not afraid to fall [chapter 14]
Title: not afraid to fall [chapter 14]
Author: ivoryroyale
Genre: supernatural, friendship, hurt/comfort
Rating: PG
Summary: in which a group of six aren't afraid to stand tall because they have each other.
Note: 5,121 words.
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[prologue] [chapter 1] [chapter 2] [chapter 3] [chapter 4] [chapter 5] [chapter 6] [ chapter 7] [chapter 8] [ chapter 9] [chapter 10] [chapter 11] [ chapter 12] [chapter 13] [chapter 14] [ chapter 15] [ chapter 16] [ chapter 17] [ chapter 18] [ chapter 19] [ chapter 20]
not afraid to fall
chapter fourteen
Yongguk stares at Himchan's door a second longer than he really needs to, leaning his ear against the cool wood as he listens to Himchan's deep breaths. They comfort Yongguk, fill him with more relief than they probably should, and it sort of scares him to death that he's missed Himchan's breathing so much in the short amount of time they've been arguing-that he knows if anybody outside of this family knew about this, Himchan would be dead. Or worse than that.
"So does this mean you're not mad at me anymore?" Yongguk asks hopefully, ignoring the way his own breathing stutters when he hears Himchan shuffling on the other side of the door. He angles his head away from the door to look up at the doorknob, most likely still locked, and he wonders if Himchan will hate him forever if he burned a little hole through his door so he could get through.
Probably, he thinks, sighing.
"Depends," Himchan mumbles, and Yongguk picks at a loose thread at the end of his shirt, waiting for Himchan to ask the inevitable. Preparing to explain everything because he can't exactly hide everything now without a huge blow up. He doesn't like when Himchan and him argue, no matter how little they actually do legitimately fight. "Are you going to keep hiding stuff from me?"
Yongguk shakes his head on reflex before he realizes Himchan can't exactly see him through the door.
But Himchan continues anyway, and Yongguk nearly scoffs because his best friend already knew he was going to agree to anything he said. "Then how about you tell me what you were doing yesterday that was stressing you out so much?"
Yongguk rolls his eyes. "It wasn't stressing me out."
Himchan is silent for a minute and Yongguk can easily see him rolling his eyes too, pursing his lips into a thin line, and leaning forward where he sits cross-legged behind the door. "I know you, Yongguk." He says simply, and in the back of his head, Himchan leans his head against the door and he has a sort of pleased, sort of not, half-smile on his face. Yongguk wants to see it, and silently thinks about picking the door's lock, because he's pretty sure Himchan hasn't smiled in a while. "Obviously, you were stressed out about something."
Yongguk likes to think he isn't that transparent, but gives up on it before they get ahead of themselves and start a whole new argument. "I was just researching."
"Researching what?" Himchan mumbles, and Yongguk adjusts himself on the ground so he's laying more comfortably against it.
"You remember that guy Junhong mentioned before? Key?" Yongguk waits a minute. Imagines Himchan on the other side of the door, taking in the name, remembering, readying himself for Himchan to blow up in a fit of anger again.
When the younger man is silent, Yongguk feels a little worried.
There's a sigh, but it's so soft Yongguk almost misses it and then, "Of course I do." And the words are so tiny, so the complete opposite of what Yongguk was expecting that he closes his eyes and holds in a breath. "Did you get anything on him?" Himchan asks and his voice doesn't hold any anger, no vengeance, just tired resignation, like he already knows what Yongguk is going to say.
"No." Yongguk admits. His eyes ghost over Junhong's bedroom door briefly, standing only a few feet away from him. He eyes the gray-green of the wood, examines how horrible the paint job looks, and he remembers how Himchan had somehow convinced him to let Junhong paint his own door at age twelve when he first moved in with Youngjae, when the boy didn't know one fragment of the meanings to the words "patience" or "neatness". The door looks like a mess, but at the same time, Yongguk remembers Junhong, holding the paint can and brush toward him, smiling, paint clinging to his clothes, specks dusting across his nose with Youngjae right beside him examining just how bad the door looked. He remembers how happy he seemed, remembers when Junhong's smile seemed to brighten when he pat him on the head and told him how amazing it looked.
Yongguk feels a lump in his throat and forces it out with a swallow. "I've got nothing except for the fact he is probably a mutant who can make illusions, and that his real name is most definitely not Key."
Himchan is quiet. The silence is deafening.
A full three minutes pass before Himchan can work up enough power to say anything at all. "He's a scientist then too, right?" Right. "And he works for the government." Yes, that too.
There's a swallow, harsh and unintentional. "And he experimented on Junhong... right?"
Oh.
Right.
"Can you tell me when?" Himchan whispers, but Yongguk can hear it, over the door, over his breathing, over the silence. "When they experimented on Junhong in the first place?"
Yongguk sighs, seeing the face Himchan is making in his head, the slight crease in between his eyes, his bottom lip sucked into his mouth in thought-in anger. "I don't exactly know when. He doesn't remember any of it so probably when he was just a baby or a toddler when he wasn't old enough to remember anything..."
The information sinks in and he can hear Himchan on the other side, breaths getting shorter, shallower, angrier. "Can you tell me why?"
Yes, but I don't want to, Yongguk thinks, dropping his head against the door behind him. "You know the government, Himchan." Yongguk says instead, simply, with memories playing in the back of his head. Memories of bases, memories of the past eating at his brain. "You can probably guess why."
"Yeah, but I'd rather you tell me," Himchan defends quickly. "I'd rather hear it straight out of your mouth. I don't want to imagine why, because I'll probably come up with something entirely worse."
Yongguk doubts that, leaning deeper into the door, imagining it was gone and it was Himchan's back he was propped up against, closing his eyes. "They experimented on him so they could give him an ability that would be useful to them. I'd say they do that with every mutant they kidnap. And considering how powerful Junhong was the first time we met him, I'd say they're creating an army of some sort, possibly to fight against and kill any of their enemies."
So most likely people like me, Yongguk adds in his head silently, hiding just this from Himchan in order to keep him from worrying, to keep him from finding out Yongguk is in more danger than he's cut out for.
From where he is, Yongguk can almost hear Himchan turn, can almost hear him slide along the door, can almost feel him leaning against him from the other side. "Oh, is that it? I was totally expecting much worse." Himchan says and Yongguk knows he's trying to brave it out, trying to prove he's tough enough to know about stuff like this, that he doesn't need to hide things from him, but Yongguk can still make out the small tremors in his voice, the way he can hear the younger man tapping a finger uneasily against the door, every single detail that points out he's worried, he's scared, he thinks that army is going to attack them, going to kill them.
I'll protect you, Yongguk almost says, but he bites his tongue, because Himchan probably already knows. I promise, I'll protect you if it's the last thing I do.
"I could be wrong," Yongguk says, trying to be helpful but probably achieving very little.
"You usually aren't though." And Yongguk can hear a bit of a smile in his voice.
Before Yongguk can say much of anything else, Himchan continues. "So now that I'm caught up about the experiment thing that you so desperately attempted to hide from me," He sounds mocking now, not irritable, and Yongguk smiles in relief at that. "What are you going to do about the Key thing? You don't have any information on him, right?"
Pursing his lips, Yongguk nods. He hasn't gotten around to actually thinking about what he was going to do next, and he almost smiles because Himchan probably already knew that and that was why he was asking. "I'm going to have to leave." Yongguk says regretfully and from the other side of the door, Himchan stills, fingers that were previously drumming along the door ceasing. "I've got to collect information on this guy somehow and breaking into a few government research facilities is probably the best way,"
Himchan's breathing, low and even, is the only thing Yongguk can hear, and he grasps onto that, focusing on the sound. "Besides, I think it's about time I visit Jaebeom hyung," Yongguk adds in hopes of reassuring Himchan just a bit. If he learns he'll be staying with an old friend, Himchan won't freak out as much. "I need to make another money trip anyway."
Yongguk can practically hear Himchan's ears perk up at that. "You're going to stay with Jaebeom?"
There's a hint of nostalgia and maybe a bit of happiness in Himchan's voice and Yongguk almost laughs. "Jaebeom hyung, yes," Yongguk corrects. "It's been a while since I last visited. He might even have more information on this Key person than I do,"
"Knowing his luck, of course he does," Himchan snorts, before going silent again, sounding much more solemn. "Are you going to see your mom again then, too?"
Yongguk pauses, frowning, narrowing his eyes at the hallway floor, playing with the thread at the end of his shirt again. "I don't know," The pyrokinetic shrugs. "Maybe. If I'm not too busy." He'd rather not see his mom at all though, and Himchan probably knows that, but he's always been one to push things that he thinks need closure.
"Can you pay a visit to my parents too then?" The brunette asks hopefully, a glimmer of longing behind his words. He wants to go himself, Yongguk knows, but one of them has to stay with the kids and it's always been Yongguk that goes out, that knows what he's doing.
"Sure."
A beat of silence.
"When do you plan on leaving?"
Yongguk thinks, thinks about how things are messed up right now, thinks about Junhong and how he doesn't want to leave him, thinks about the rest of the family and how he doesn't want to leave them either. "I definitely don't want to leave you guys after something like this happened," Yongguk admits. "And I don't want to leave until Junhong gets a little bit better at least. So I guess I'll leave in a few months, maybe?"
"I should look for a job then," Himchan points out, already thinking ahead. "We'll run low on money before you even leave and you'll probably stay at Jaebeom's place for a while before you come back, so I better start looking for one soon. Maybe some kind of part time job. At a diner. I could cook or something..."
"Or I could get a job," Yongguk offers and from the other side of the door, Himchan scoffs.
"Please," Himchan laughs. "You wouldn't last a day working a normal job. No offense but I can't imagine you working without using your ability."
Yongguk smiles, although he probably should be frowning at the fact he was just insulted. Maybe it's because it's so much easier talking this through with Himchan, so much easier to have someone else plan for you. Or maybe it's because he likes to hear Himchan ramble after spending the past day arguing.
"So are we good now?" Yongguk asks hopefully. "No more fighting?"
He waits, sitting in silence, and his stomach flips when he suddenly hears Himchan moving again and the lock on his door turning.
Yongguk scoots away from the door, turning around to stare up just as Himchan opens his door, revealing how disheveled he looks, how puffy his eyes are, how tired he is. He's wearing the exact same clothes he was wearing yesterday, and this is probably the most unattractive Himchan has ever allowed him to see him.
And Yongguk can't help but think, wow. He missed this face, missed this idiot.
"If you say anything about how I look, I swear I will choke you in your sleep," Himchan groans out after seeing the look on Yongguk's face.
The older man rolls his eyes, pushing himself up from the ground to stand at eye level with his best friend, smiling. He reaches out a hand and pushes the bangs out of Himchan's face on instinct, ghosting a hand underneath his red eyes, painting over his tear stained cheeks. "You look fine. Like a princess." Yongguk teases, pinching Himchan's cheek lightly before Himchan smacks his hand away testily, a horribly suppressed smile on his face.
Himchan opens his mouth to retort a comeback, but his stomach, growling low and angrily interrupts whatever he's about to say.
The two of them are silent, and Himchan holds onto his stomach with pursed lips. Yongguk catches the younger man's eyes before he smiles. "Race you to the kitchen?" Yongguk offers and Himchan returns his smile, eyes glistening behind the puffy red.
"Loser has to cook," Himchan adds, already running down the hallway before Yongguk even has a chance to accept to the conditions.
Yongguk counts to ten before he dashes after him.
And he may or may not have let Himchan win as a way of apologizing for making him cry.
Youngjae and Junhong are unbearably silent after the argument. It's just Junhong sitting still in his bed, curling and uncurling his fingers in his blankets, most likely trying to feel something and Youngjae standing next to his bed, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he stares down at Junhong's stitches, scrutinizing them, making sure they're perfect enough to leave alone for now.
He contemplates redoing them, because he didn't do the best job. The spaces between each stitch aren't even and the stitch work itself is shabby at best, and he doesn't pay too much attention to detail when he's too busy being angry and too occupied with the storm buzzing around his head because of the fact he was too busy being angry. But he decides to leave them alone.
They're fine; it's just his mind, too difficult-too meticulous now, criticizing him, judging every move he makes.
"So," Youngjae hears and the genius freezes. Junhong's voice grates at his ears, plays with his head. It's a robot's and nothing else than that to Youngjae's brain. It's not him, his brain screams-tries to convince him. "How exactly do you plan on fixing me?" The boy asks casually, but his voice makes it sound less so, and Junhong can probably tell because he's twisting his hand further into the blanket again.
Youngjae swallows, blinking, more tears cascading down his cheeks as he does so. He doesn't have a plan. He hasn't really thought of that yet, but before he can open his mouth to say just that, his brain is working, fast and faster, spewing words different from his thoughts. "Maybe we could have you reminisce things from the past," Youngjae offers, voice coming out in a stream, calculating and even. He doesn't have to think about it when he starts to speak again. "Things from the past could, hopefully, trigger some sort of emotional response if we talk about a poignant enough event,"
Junhong turns toward Youngjae then, staring at him blankly, brown eyes a dull light, and Youngjae pauses for a moment, biting his lip to suppress whatever word garble his brain was about to spew at the sight of Junhong-thinking up more ideas, more plans to help him.
He turns away then, walking toward the wall behind him, to the mess he made before of sutures and bandages and little scissors. He crouches down to pick up all of the stray objects slowly-carefully-when he finally gets to the wall.
He knows Junhong told him to leave the mess alone, but it gives Youngjae something to focus on, something that'll keep his brain occupied, so he doesn't really care what the younger has to say about it.
It's not like Junhong can get mad at him, anyway.
"We could also train," Youngjae offers, picking up yet another bandage. This time he says what he thinks, not what his brain tells him to say. He controls his vocal chords, he forces the words out his head. It's not his mutation doing the talking, and Youngjae lets out a breath that he hadn't realized he was holding. "You know, like we did when you were younger,"
When his parents first adopted Junhong, he had no control over his power then, too. Certain emotions seemed to bother Junhong more than others and he always managed to suck them away from people like a vacuum.
Hate, love, loneliness-any emotion that discomforted the boy, he nullified it. Junhong could feel at least, but only so little, and back then, Youngjae had tried to help too-the best he could as a thirteen year old boy. He tried to expose Junhong to every emotion possible, taking him to places filled with different feelings to keep him from nullifying them so often-to amusement parks with giggling children, to the orphanage Junhong lived before with nostalgic faces and children filled with loneliness, to the streets of restaurants with couples eating with each other, the hue of love almost blinding as it floated through the air.
To school with children filled with hatred toward Youngjae, always toward Youngjae, for being too smart for his own good.
It worked back then at least. Junhong got better at controlling his ability with each place they visited, with each emotion Youngjae forced upon him, and maybe it'll work now.
"Oh," Junhong says, and Youngjae knows he's trying to play off normal, trying to say things in the manner he would have before.
It isn't working, Youngjae wants to say, hearing him like this just makes him want to cry more.
"It's not like before though. My ability is different. I can only nullify someone else's emotions upon contact now and my ability seems more intent on blocking away my own emotion than others. It's almost like I have a whole new power, in a way."
Youngjae frowns, having picked up all the objects. With a sigh he stands up from where he is, crouched to the ground, walking back over to Junhong's dresser, tossing all of the items back into the drawer. "Then I guess we'll have to find a new method," They can't exactly travel around places anymore either, anyway, not with Junhong in this state and not without risking some sort of danger upon them.
His brain comes up with something faster than his mouth can move, and Youngjae has to bite his lips to keep from spewing anything that would embarrass himself.
Does "just use me, you can touch me to get better" sound entirely too inappropriate to say?
Yes, Youngjae's brain screams for him, and he coughs awkwardly before finally finding the right words to say. "You can just use me then,"
Junhong just stares blankly at him, and Youngjae is too busy dissecting his next set of words to even care.
"Just..." Youngjae scratches the back of his head. "We can make contact," The genius says slowly, sighing at how difficult he was making this. "And you can try to keep from draining my emotions." With a more satisfied sigh, Youngjae nods. That was a perfect explanation.
Not. Youngjae's brain interjects and the genius nearly groans.
"Are you sure about that?" Junhong asks, and if Youngjae didn't know better, he would say the youngest was almost concerned. Too bad his voice and eyes are still as devoid as always. "Being drained of emotion is a pretty scary thing. Jongup hyung was completely freaked out when I accidentally did it on him yesterday."
You're obviously forgetting how often you drained my emotions when we were little, Youngjae points out in his head, rolling his eyes. "I can handle it." He explains instead, reaching toward Junhong.
Entirely on instinct, Youngjae supposes, Junhong backs away. Junhong's eyebrows move down an inch and his mouth looks sort of a cross between a thin line with his lips jutted out in a horrible pout.
Youngjae realizes he's trying to glare.
"Actually," Junhong says. Youngjae is getting used to his voice like this. "I think you need a breather."
Youngjae is about to argue about how no, shut up, I already told you I'm fine, but Junhong interrupts him before he gets the chance. The older boy frowns and contemplates finding some way to get Junhong to shut up. "You've been doing way too much and you know it."
I really haven't though because you're not any better, Youngjae thinks, I'm not doing too much if you're still like this.
"Go have fun." Junhong commands, and Youngjae can tell he's trying to sound commanding. Trying to tease like he used to. "Go hang out with Daehyun. You bought him all that stuff, right? Go help him decorate his room or something. Or check up on Jongup for me."
At the thought of spending time with Daehyun, his heart seems to falter, contradicting and clashing horribly with his brain. His brain tells him to keep working, it tells him not to leave Junhong, and his heart whispers, ten times worse, a thousands times more convincing, but you want to be with Daehyun.
Youngjae wants to scream at how noisy his head is being.
"I'll be fine," Junhong explains, calming the pounding in Youngjae's head long enough for the genius to focus on him, just him, only him. "It's not like you're going to be far and it's not like I'm going to try to leave again,"
Of course not, Youngjae's brain says. You would just be stupid if you tried again.
"I might not be able to feel it," Junhong says, as if it weren't obvious enough, and Youngjae bites down hard on his lip. "But I know I need to look out for my big brother,"
Youngjae feels his heart stutter again.
"So go relax a bit," Junhong continues. "I know you've probably been tearing away at yourself for this."
Youngjae is stuck between kind of wanting to yell angrily at Junhong for knowing him so well and wanting to kiss him on the cheek for worrying over him as best he can with the way he is right now.
But all he does is nod, a sudden need to cry again bubbling in the back of his throat. "Um. Okay," He chokes out. "I guess... I'll just check up on you later," The genius says slowly, looking Junhong up and down worriedly, wondering now more than ever if he'll be okay by himself.
"I'll be right here." Junhong states, forcing his cheeks up in what Youngjae believes is supposed to be a smile.
He feels tears blinding his eyesight at the attempt.
So he inches himself away from the bed, while Junhong sits, unbelievably still, hands curling into his covers deeper, focusing on the sound of his own footsteps with each step he takes away.
He waves, just to be sure, and Junhong returns it, concisely, relying entirely on his own mobility and thoughts than his emotions now-looking way too unnatural for Youngjae's liking.
"Bye." Junhong says.
He's empty and so different than how he was before, Youngjae thinks bitterly. I'm leaving him alone and all he can say about it is bye.
With a long sigh and a forced smile, Youngjae leaves the room.
Youngjae finds himself standing in the dark hallway, standing in front of Jongup's door, working up enough nerve to knock as he listens to them (well, listens to Jongup), a tinge of affection hiding behind his words, behind every short laugh and every tiny beat of silence.
From downstairs he can hear Yongguk and Himchan, talking over the clang of their dishes as they eat, casually making conversation after that huge fight they had. From Junhong's bedroom he can hear the boy, still sitting as still as ever in his bed, wrinkling his sheets with the curl and uncurl of his fingers. From outside Jongup's door he can hear his own thoughts as they scream at Youngjae, you're just going to be an intrusion, they're not going to want to talk to you, Daehyun likes Jongup more than you.
In a flurry of simple stubbornness, Youngjae knocks, the sound of the hollow wood connecting with his knuckles drowning out the voices of Himchan and Yongguk, of Jongup and Daehyun, of the ones whispering softly in the back of his head.
"Come in," Jongup sings.
Youngjae opens the door slowly, focusing on the creak of the door as he pushes the door open. Inside, he sees Daehyun draped over the covers in front of Jongup, curled up on the bed. The sight discomforts him, makes him regret even leaving Junhong.
Maybe if he runs back now, Daehyun and Jongup will just forget about him.
"Hi, Youngjae hyung!"
Nope, too late.
"Hey," Youngjae greets walking over to stand next to Jongup's bed. Daehyun is busy scribbling something onto his post-its and Jongup pats the empty space next to him on the bed invitingly. Youngjae scoots himself onto the bed instinctively, bringing his knees up to hug them in front of him, just like Jongup.
The blonde in front of him lifts up his post-it, letting Youngjae read it. How's Junhong doing?
Oh, peachy. You know-other than the fact he can't feel anything, he's doing fine. "He's okay," Youngjae says softly, the complete opposite of his previously harsh thought. "He's trying to get a hold on his power. I wanted to help, but he told me I was overworking myself and that I should hang out with you two,"
Not the best idea, considering I'm obviously interrupting you two. Youngjae thinks, bringing his knees closer to his chest.
They're silent, and Youngjae sighs, feeling a sudden severity in the air. He leans his head against Jongup's shoulder, a sudden wave of exhaustion hitting him like a ton of bricks. "Are you feeling better?" Youngjae asks, staring down at Daehyun, staring back up at him with big brown eyes but talking to Jongup.
"Yeah," Jongup says, adding in a smile that Youngjae can hear with his eyes closed. "Daehyunnie hyung made me feel a lot better."
"Daehyunnie hyung?" Youngjae asks, eyes flying open, lifting his head just slightly off of Jongup's shoulder. He looks down at Daehyun, adjusting the mask on his face and looking at anywhere but at Youngjae. There's a slight twist in his gut, and he narrows his eyes just the slightest. "Since when are you called Daehyunnie hyung?" Youngjae murmurs quietly, ignoring the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, ignoring the slight irritation building in the back of his head in favor of dropping his head back down on Jongup's shoulder. "Since when do you call him Daehyunnie hyung?" Youngjae asks Jongup, louder, so that the two of them can hear him this time.
"Since today," Jongup exclaims.
Youngjae watches Daehyun carefully. The blonde scratches the back of his neck and Youngjae can see, behind the mask and behind his bangs-the way his eyes sparkle in almost glee. The pang in his gut flares. "Why did you give him it?"
"Don't know," Jongup shrugs gently, avoiding Youngjae's head, leaned up against his shoulder. "I just felt like giving him a nickname."
Youngjae sort of envies the younger boy. He wouldn't be able to come up with a nickname-especially not one as cute as Daehyunnie-with so little difficulty. Youngjae would have spluttered, would have had his tongue tied into knots before he could even say even the first syllable. He gets way too nervous, way too easily, and it doesn't help that Daehyun seems to make that even worse.
Please don't start calling me Daehyunnie too. Daehyun sneakily glides a post-it note beneath Youngjae's eyes, making sure Jongup doesn't notice as he does. I'd rather be called something a bit cooler.
Youngjae smiles, mouthing, how come you don't tell him that. He points his thumb inconspicuously at Jongup who is too busy playing with his fingers boredly to even pay attention to them.
Daehyun makes a face split between conflicted and tense behind his mask. Discreetly, he writes, oh, please, don't tell me you'd even have the heart to tell him you didn't like a nickname he gave you.
I actually have, Youngjae mouths back proudly. After he made a habit out of calling me "Tubby Hyunggie" after he accidentally caught a glimpse of my stomach.
Dropping the pencil in his hands, Youngjae swears he can see Daehyun's jaw drop behind the mask he's wearing.
And within a few seconds, the older man is curled in on himself on the bed, clutching at his stomach and-
"Are you laughing?" Jongup shrieks beside him, leaning forward, and Youngjae slips off his shoulder and nearly falls over in shock. There's a huge smile on the boy's face and Youngjae briefly wonders if he's won the lottery because the look on Jongup's face is entirely too excited.
Daehyun tries to answer him, but all that comes out are loud guffaws blocked by his black mask. The blonde raises a hand, a sign saying to wait or to stop or something along those lines. Youngjae is too busy staring down at the older man, trying to cover his face with one hand as he giggles, to convey completely what he's trying to say. His laugh is cute, Youngjae can't help but think, and he's pretty sure Jongup is thinking along the same lines too because he's practically cooing at Daehyun, leaning forward, trying to steal away the mask around his mouth to see his smile.
"This is the first time I've ever seen you laugh!" Jongup exclaims, starting to laugh along too after successfully managing to peel the mask away to reveal Daehyun's smile, huge and bright.
And Youngjae feels a slight sense of accomplishment in his gut having been the first out of all of them to get Daehyun to laugh.
The aching pang in his stomach dies down, to a minimum at that fact, and Youngjae starts to laugh too, along with Jongup and Daehyun, falling forward on the bed to collapse on the two of them in a fit of giggles.
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Previous | Next
Author: ivoryroyale
Genre: supernatural, friendship, hurt/comfort
Rating: PG
Summary: in which a group of six aren't afraid to stand tall because they have each other.
Note: 5,121 words.
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[prologue] [chapter 1] [chapter 2] [chapter 3] [chapter 4] [chapter 5] [chapter 6] [ chapter 7] [chapter 8] [ chapter 9] [chapter 10] [chapter 11] [ chapter 12] [chapter 13] [chapter 14] [ chapter 15] [ chapter 16] [ chapter 17] [ chapter 18] [ chapter 19] [ chapter 20]
not afraid to fall
chapter fourteen
Yongguk stares at Himchan's door a second longer than he really needs to, leaning his ear against the cool wood as he listens to Himchan's deep breaths. They comfort Yongguk, fill him with more relief than they probably should, and it sort of scares him to death that he's missed Himchan's breathing so much in the short amount of time they've been arguing-that he knows if anybody outside of this family knew about this, Himchan would be dead. Or worse than that.
"So does this mean you're not mad at me anymore?" Yongguk asks hopefully, ignoring the way his own breathing stutters when he hears Himchan shuffling on the other side of the door. He angles his head away from the door to look up at the doorknob, most likely still locked, and he wonders if Himchan will hate him forever if he burned a little hole through his door so he could get through.
Probably, he thinks, sighing.
"Depends," Himchan mumbles, and Yongguk picks at a loose thread at the end of his shirt, waiting for Himchan to ask the inevitable. Preparing to explain everything because he can't exactly hide everything now without a huge blow up. He doesn't like when Himchan and him argue, no matter how little they actually do legitimately fight. "Are you going to keep hiding stuff from me?"
Yongguk shakes his head on reflex before he realizes Himchan can't exactly see him through the door.
But Himchan continues anyway, and Yongguk nearly scoffs because his best friend already knew he was going to agree to anything he said. "Then how about you tell me what you were doing yesterday that was stressing you out so much?"
Yongguk rolls his eyes. "It wasn't stressing me out."
Himchan is silent for a minute and Yongguk can easily see him rolling his eyes too, pursing his lips into a thin line, and leaning forward where he sits cross-legged behind the door. "I know you, Yongguk." He says simply, and in the back of his head, Himchan leans his head against the door and he has a sort of pleased, sort of not, half-smile on his face. Yongguk wants to see it, and silently thinks about picking the door's lock, because he's pretty sure Himchan hasn't smiled in a while. "Obviously, you were stressed out about something."
Yongguk likes to think he isn't that transparent, but gives up on it before they get ahead of themselves and start a whole new argument. "I was just researching."
"Researching what?" Himchan mumbles, and Yongguk adjusts himself on the ground so he's laying more comfortably against it.
"You remember that guy Junhong mentioned before? Key?" Yongguk waits a minute. Imagines Himchan on the other side of the door, taking in the name, remembering, readying himself for Himchan to blow up in a fit of anger again.
When the younger man is silent, Yongguk feels a little worried.
There's a sigh, but it's so soft Yongguk almost misses it and then, "Of course I do." And the words are so tiny, so the complete opposite of what Yongguk was expecting that he closes his eyes and holds in a breath. "Did you get anything on him?" Himchan asks and his voice doesn't hold any anger, no vengeance, just tired resignation, like he already knows what Yongguk is going to say.
"No." Yongguk admits. His eyes ghost over Junhong's bedroom door briefly, standing only a few feet away from him. He eyes the gray-green of the wood, examines how horrible the paint job looks, and he remembers how Himchan had somehow convinced him to let Junhong paint his own door at age twelve when he first moved in with Youngjae, when the boy didn't know one fragment of the meanings to the words "patience" or "neatness". The door looks like a mess, but at the same time, Yongguk remembers Junhong, holding the paint can and brush toward him, smiling, paint clinging to his clothes, specks dusting across his nose with Youngjae right beside him examining just how bad the door looked. He remembers how happy he seemed, remembers when Junhong's smile seemed to brighten when he pat him on the head and told him how amazing it looked.
Yongguk feels a lump in his throat and forces it out with a swallow. "I've got nothing except for the fact he is probably a mutant who can make illusions, and that his real name is most definitely not Key."
Himchan is quiet. The silence is deafening.
A full three minutes pass before Himchan can work up enough power to say anything at all. "He's a scientist then too, right?" Right. "And he works for the government." Yes, that too.
There's a swallow, harsh and unintentional. "And he experimented on Junhong... right?"
Oh.
Right.
"Can you tell me when?" Himchan whispers, but Yongguk can hear it, over the door, over his breathing, over the silence. "When they experimented on Junhong in the first place?"
Yongguk sighs, seeing the face Himchan is making in his head, the slight crease in between his eyes, his bottom lip sucked into his mouth in thought-in anger. "I don't exactly know when. He doesn't remember any of it so probably when he was just a baby or a toddler when he wasn't old enough to remember anything..."
The information sinks in and he can hear Himchan on the other side, breaths getting shorter, shallower, angrier. "Can you tell me why?"
Yes, but I don't want to, Yongguk thinks, dropping his head against the door behind him. "You know the government, Himchan." Yongguk says instead, simply, with memories playing in the back of his head. Memories of bases, memories of the past eating at his brain. "You can probably guess why."
"Yeah, but I'd rather you tell me," Himchan defends quickly. "I'd rather hear it straight out of your mouth. I don't want to imagine why, because I'll probably come up with something entirely worse."
Yongguk doubts that, leaning deeper into the door, imagining it was gone and it was Himchan's back he was propped up against, closing his eyes. "They experimented on him so they could give him an ability that would be useful to them. I'd say they do that with every mutant they kidnap. And considering how powerful Junhong was the first time we met him, I'd say they're creating an army of some sort, possibly to fight against and kill any of their enemies."
So most likely people like me, Yongguk adds in his head silently, hiding just this from Himchan in order to keep him from worrying, to keep him from finding out Yongguk is in more danger than he's cut out for.
From where he is, Yongguk can almost hear Himchan turn, can almost hear him slide along the door, can almost feel him leaning against him from the other side. "Oh, is that it? I was totally expecting much worse." Himchan says and Yongguk knows he's trying to brave it out, trying to prove he's tough enough to know about stuff like this, that he doesn't need to hide things from him, but Yongguk can still make out the small tremors in his voice, the way he can hear the younger man tapping a finger uneasily against the door, every single detail that points out he's worried, he's scared, he thinks that army is going to attack them, going to kill them.
I'll protect you, Yongguk almost says, but he bites his tongue, because Himchan probably already knows. I promise, I'll protect you if it's the last thing I do.
"I could be wrong," Yongguk says, trying to be helpful but probably achieving very little.
"You usually aren't though." And Yongguk can hear a bit of a smile in his voice.
Before Yongguk can say much of anything else, Himchan continues. "So now that I'm caught up about the experiment thing that you so desperately attempted to hide from me," He sounds mocking now, not irritable, and Yongguk smiles in relief at that. "What are you going to do about the Key thing? You don't have any information on him, right?"
Pursing his lips, Yongguk nods. He hasn't gotten around to actually thinking about what he was going to do next, and he almost smiles because Himchan probably already knew that and that was why he was asking. "I'm going to have to leave." Yongguk says regretfully and from the other side of the door, Himchan stills, fingers that were previously drumming along the door ceasing. "I've got to collect information on this guy somehow and breaking into a few government research facilities is probably the best way,"
Himchan's breathing, low and even, is the only thing Yongguk can hear, and he grasps onto that, focusing on the sound. "Besides, I think it's about time I visit Jaebeom hyung," Yongguk adds in hopes of reassuring Himchan just a bit. If he learns he'll be staying with an old friend, Himchan won't freak out as much. "I need to make another money trip anyway."
Yongguk can practically hear Himchan's ears perk up at that. "You're going to stay with Jaebeom?"
There's a hint of nostalgia and maybe a bit of happiness in Himchan's voice and Yongguk almost laughs. "Jaebeom hyung, yes," Yongguk corrects. "It's been a while since I last visited. He might even have more information on this Key person than I do,"
"Knowing his luck, of course he does," Himchan snorts, before going silent again, sounding much more solemn. "Are you going to see your mom again then, too?"
Yongguk pauses, frowning, narrowing his eyes at the hallway floor, playing with the thread at the end of his shirt again. "I don't know," The pyrokinetic shrugs. "Maybe. If I'm not too busy." He'd rather not see his mom at all though, and Himchan probably knows that, but he's always been one to push things that he thinks need closure.
"Can you pay a visit to my parents too then?" The brunette asks hopefully, a glimmer of longing behind his words. He wants to go himself, Yongguk knows, but one of them has to stay with the kids and it's always been Yongguk that goes out, that knows what he's doing.
"Sure."
A beat of silence.
"When do you plan on leaving?"
Yongguk thinks, thinks about how things are messed up right now, thinks about Junhong and how he doesn't want to leave him, thinks about the rest of the family and how he doesn't want to leave them either. "I definitely don't want to leave you guys after something like this happened," Yongguk admits. "And I don't want to leave until Junhong gets a little bit better at least. So I guess I'll leave in a few months, maybe?"
"I should look for a job then," Himchan points out, already thinking ahead. "We'll run low on money before you even leave and you'll probably stay at Jaebeom's place for a while before you come back, so I better start looking for one soon. Maybe some kind of part time job. At a diner. I could cook or something..."
"Or I could get a job," Yongguk offers and from the other side of the door, Himchan scoffs.
"Please," Himchan laughs. "You wouldn't last a day working a normal job. No offense but I can't imagine you working without using your ability."
Yongguk smiles, although he probably should be frowning at the fact he was just insulted. Maybe it's because it's so much easier talking this through with Himchan, so much easier to have someone else plan for you. Or maybe it's because he likes to hear Himchan ramble after spending the past day arguing.
"So are we good now?" Yongguk asks hopefully. "No more fighting?"
He waits, sitting in silence, and his stomach flips when he suddenly hears Himchan moving again and the lock on his door turning.
Yongguk scoots away from the door, turning around to stare up just as Himchan opens his door, revealing how disheveled he looks, how puffy his eyes are, how tired he is. He's wearing the exact same clothes he was wearing yesterday, and this is probably the most unattractive Himchan has ever allowed him to see him.
And Yongguk can't help but think, wow. He missed this face, missed this idiot.
"If you say anything about how I look, I swear I will choke you in your sleep," Himchan groans out after seeing the look on Yongguk's face.
The older man rolls his eyes, pushing himself up from the ground to stand at eye level with his best friend, smiling. He reaches out a hand and pushes the bangs out of Himchan's face on instinct, ghosting a hand underneath his red eyes, painting over his tear stained cheeks. "You look fine. Like a princess." Yongguk teases, pinching Himchan's cheek lightly before Himchan smacks his hand away testily, a horribly suppressed smile on his face.
Himchan opens his mouth to retort a comeback, but his stomach, growling low and angrily interrupts whatever he's about to say.
The two of them are silent, and Himchan holds onto his stomach with pursed lips. Yongguk catches the younger man's eyes before he smiles. "Race you to the kitchen?" Yongguk offers and Himchan returns his smile, eyes glistening behind the puffy red.
"Loser has to cook," Himchan adds, already running down the hallway before Yongguk even has a chance to accept to the conditions.
Yongguk counts to ten before he dashes after him.
And he may or may not have let Himchan win as a way of apologizing for making him cry.
Youngjae and Junhong are unbearably silent after the argument. It's just Junhong sitting still in his bed, curling and uncurling his fingers in his blankets, most likely trying to feel something and Youngjae standing next to his bed, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he stares down at Junhong's stitches, scrutinizing them, making sure they're perfect enough to leave alone for now.
He contemplates redoing them, because he didn't do the best job. The spaces between each stitch aren't even and the stitch work itself is shabby at best, and he doesn't pay too much attention to detail when he's too busy being angry and too occupied with the storm buzzing around his head because of the fact he was too busy being angry. But he decides to leave them alone.
They're fine; it's just his mind, too difficult-too meticulous now, criticizing him, judging every move he makes.
"So," Youngjae hears and the genius freezes. Junhong's voice grates at his ears, plays with his head. It's a robot's and nothing else than that to Youngjae's brain. It's not him, his brain screams-tries to convince him. "How exactly do you plan on fixing me?" The boy asks casually, but his voice makes it sound less so, and Junhong can probably tell because he's twisting his hand further into the blanket again.
Youngjae swallows, blinking, more tears cascading down his cheeks as he does so. He doesn't have a plan. He hasn't really thought of that yet, but before he can open his mouth to say just that, his brain is working, fast and faster, spewing words different from his thoughts. "Maybe we could have you reminisce things from the past," Youngjae offers, voice coming out in a stream, calculating and even. He doesn't have to think about it when he starts to speak again. "Things from the past could, hopefully, trigger some sort of emotional response if we talk about a poignant enough event,"
Junhong turns toward Youngjae then, staring at him blankly, brown eyes a dull light, and Youngjae pauses for a moment, biting his lip to suppress whatever word garble his brain was about to spew at the sight of Junhong-thinking up more ideas, more plans to help him.
He turns away then, walking toward the wall behind him, to the mess he made before of sutures and bandages and little scissors. He crouches down to pick up all of the stray objects slowly-carefully-when he finally gets to the wall.
He knows Junhong told him to leave the mess alone, but it gives Youngjae something to focus on, something that'll keep his brain occupied, so he doesn't really care what the younger has to say about it.
It's not like Junhong can get mad at him, anyway.
"We could also train," Youngjae offers, picking up yet another bandage. This time he says what he thinks, not what his brain tells him to say. He controls his vocal chords, he forces the words out his head. It's not his mutation doing the talking, and Youngjae lets out a breath that he hadn't realized he was holding. "You know, like we did when you were younger,"
When his parents first adopted Junhong, he had no control over his power then, too. Certain emotions seemed to bother Junhong more than others and he always managed to suck them away from people like a vacuum.
Hate, love, loneliness-any emotion that discomforted the boy, he nullified it. Junhong could feel at least, but only so little, and back then, Youngjae had tried to help too-the best he could as a thirteen year old boy. He tried to expose Junhong to every emotion possible, taking him to places filled with different feelings to keep him from nullifying them so often-to amusement parks with giggling children, to the orphanage Junhong lived before with nostalgic faces and children filled with loneliness, to the streets of restaurants with couples eating with each other, the hue of love almost blinding as it floated through the air.
To school with children filled with hatred toward Youngjae, always toward Youngjae, for being too smart for his own good.
It worked back then at least. Junhong got better at controlling his ability with each place they visited, with each emotion Youngjae forced upon him, and maybe it'll work now.
"Oh," Junhong says, and Youngjae knows he's trying to play off normal, trying to say things in the manner he would have before.
It isn't working, Youngjae wants to say, hearing him like this just makes him want to cry more.
"It's not like before though. My ability is different. I can only nullify someone else's emotions upon contact now and my ability seems more intent on blocking away my own emotion than others. It's almost like I have a whole new power, in a way."
Youngjae frowns, having picked up all the objects. With a sigh he stands up from where he is, crouched to the ground, walking back over to Junhong's dresser, tossing all of the items back into the drawer. "Then I guess we'll have to find a new method," They can't exactly travel around places anymore either, anyway, not with Junhong in this state and not without risking some sort of danger upon them.
His brain comes up with something faster than his mouth can move, and Youngjae has to bite his lips to keep from spewing anything that would embarrass himself.
Does "just use me, you can touch me to get better" sound entirely too inappropriate to say?
Yes, Youngjae's brain screams for him, and he coughs awkwardly before finally finding the right words to say. "You can just use me then,"
Junhong just stares blankly at him, and Youngjae is too busy dissecting his next set of words to even care.
"Just..." Youngjae scratches the back of his head. "We can make contact," The genius says slowly, sighing at how difficult he was making this. "And you can try to keep from draining my emotions." With a more satisfied sigh, Youngjae nods. That was a perfect explanation.
Not. Youngjae's brain interjects and the genius nearly groans.
"Are you sure about that?" Junhong asks, and if Youngjae didn't know better, he would say the youngest was almost concerned. Too bad his voice and eyes are still as devoid as always. "Being drained of emotion is a pretty scary thing. Jongup hyung was completely freaked out when I accidentally did it on him yesterday."
You're obviously forgetting how often you drained my emotions when we were little, Youngjae points out in his head, rolling his eyes. "I can handle it." He explains instead, reaching toward Junhong.
Entirely on instinct, Youngjae supposes, Junhong backs away. Junhong's eyebrows move down an inch and his mouth looks sort of a cross between a thin line with his lips jutted out in a horrible pout.
Youngjae realizes he's trying to glare.
"Actually," Junhong says. Youngjae is getting used to his voice like this. "I think you need a breather."
Youngjae is about to argue about how no, shut up, I already told you I'm fine, but Junhong interrupts him before he gets the chance. The older boy frowns and contemplates finding some way to get Junhong to shut up. "You've been doing way too much and you know it."
I really haven't though because you're not any better, Youngjae thinks, I'm not doing too much if you're still like this.
"Go have fun." Junhong commands, and Youngjae can tell he's trying to sound commanding. Trying to tease like he used to. "Go hang out with Daehyun. You bought him all that stuff, right? Go help him decorate his room or something. Or check up on Jongup for me."
At the thought of spending time with Daehyun, his heart seems to falter, contradicting and clashing horribly with his brain. His brain tells him to keep working, it tells him not to leave Junhong, and his heart whispers, ten times worse, a thousands times more convincing, but you want to be with Daehyun.
Youngjae wants to scream at how noisy his head is being.
"I'll be fine," Junhong explains, calming the pounding in Youngjae's head long enough for the genius to focus on him, just him, only him. "It's not like you're going to be far and it's not like I'm going to try to leave again,"
Of course not, Youngjae's brain says. You would just be stupid if you tried again.
"I might not be able to feel it," Junhong says, as if it weren't obvious enough, and Youngjae bites down hard on his lip. "But I know I need to look out for my big brother,"
Youngjae feels his heart stutter again.
"So go relax a bit," Junhong continues. "I know you've probably been tearing away at yourself for this."
Youngjae is stuck between kind of wanting to yell angrily at Junhong for knowing him so well and wanting to kiss him on the cheek for worrying over him as best he can with the way he is right now.
But all he does is nod, a sudden need to cry again bubbling in the back of his throat. "Um. Okay," He chokes out. "I guess... I'll just check up on you later," The genius says slowly, looking Junhong up and down worriedly, wondering now more than ever if he'll be okay by himself.
"I'll be right here." Junhong states, forcing his cheeks up in what Youngjae believes is supposed to be a smile.
He feels tears blinding his eyesight at the attempt.
So he inches himself away from the bed, while Junhong sits, unbelievably still, hands curling into his covers deeper, focusing on the sound of his own footsteps with each step he takes away.
He waves, just to be sure, and Junhong returns it, concisely, relying entirely on his own mobility and thoughts than his emotions now-looking way too unnatural for Youngjae's liking.
"Bye." Junhong says.
He's empty and so different than how he was before, Youngjae thinks bitterly. I'm leaving him alone and all he can say about it is bye.
With a long sigh and a forced smile, Youngjae leaves the room.
Youngjae finds himself standing in the dark hallway, standing in front of Jongup's door, working up enough nerve to knock as he listens to them (well, listens to Jongup), a tinge of affection hiding behind his words, behind every short laugh and every tiny beat of silence.
From downstairs he can hear Yongguk and Himchan, talking over the clang of their dishes as they eat, casually making conversation after that huge fight they had. From Junhong's bedroom he can hear the boy, still sitting as still as ever in his bed, wrinkling his sheets with the curl and uncurl of his fingers. From outside Jongup's door he can hear his own thoughts as they scream at Youngjae, you're just going to be an intrusion, they're not going to want to talk to you, Daehyun likes Jongup more than you.
In a flurry of simple stubbornness, Youngjae knocks, the sound of the hollow wood connecting with his knuckles drowning out the voices of Himchan and Yongguk, of Jongup and Daehyun, of the ones whispering softly in the back of his head.
"Come in," Jongup sings.
Youngjae opens the door slowly, focusing on the creak of the door as he pushes the door open. Inside, he sees Daehyun draped over the covers in front of Jongup, curled up on the bed. The sight discomforts him, makes him regret even leaving Junhong.
Maybe if he runs back now, Daehyun and Jongup will just forget about him.
"Hi, Youngjae hyung!"
Nope, too late.
"Hey," Youngjae greets walking over to stand next to Jongup's bed. Daehyun is busy scribbling something onto his post-its and Jongup pats the empty space next to him on the bed invitingly. Youngjae scoots himself onto the bed instinctively, bringing his knees up to hug them in front of him, just like Jongup.
The blonde in front of him lifts up his post-it, letting Youngjae read it. How's Junhong doing?
Oh, peachy. You know-other than the fact he can't feel anything, he's doing fine. "He's okay," Youngjae says softly, the complete opposite of his previously harsh thought. "He's trying to get a hold on his power. I wanted to help, but he told me I was overworking myself and that I should hang out with you two,"
Not the best idea, considering I'm obviously interrupting you two. Youngjae thinks, bringing his knees closer to his chest.
They're silent, and Youngjae sighs, feeling a sudden severity in the air. He leans his head against Jongup's shoulder, a sudden wave of exhaustion hitting him like a ton of bricks. "Are you feeling better?" Youngjae asks, staring down at Daehyun, staring back up at him with big brown eyes but talking to Jongup.
"Yeah," Jongup says, adding in a smile that Youngjae can hear with his eyes closed. "Daehyunnie hyung made me feel a lot better."
"Daehyunnie hyung?" Youngjae asks, eyes flying open, lifting his head just slightly off of Jongup's shoulder. He looks down at Daehyun, adjusting the mask on his face and looking at anywhere but at Youngjae. There's a slight twist in his gut, and he narrows his eyes just the slightest. "Since when are you called Daehyunnie hyung?" Youngjae murmurs quietly, ignoring the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, ignoring the slight irritation building in the back of his head in favor of dropping his head back down on Jongup's shoulder. "Since when do you call him Daehyunnie hyung?" Youngjae asks Jongup, louder, so that the two of them can hear him this time.
"Since today," Jongup exclaims.
Youngjae watches Daehyun carefully. The blonde scratches the back of his neck and Youngjae can see, behind the mask and behind his bangs-the way his eyes sparkle in almost glee. The pang in his gut flares. "Why did you give him it?"
"Don't know," Jongup shrugs gently, avoiding Youngjae's head, leaned up against his shoulder. "I just felt like giving him a nickname."
Youngjae sort of envies the younger boy. He wouldn't be able to come up with a nickname-especially not one as cute as Daehyunnie-with so little difficulty. Youngjae would have spluttered, would have had his tongue tied into knots before he could even say even the first syllable. He gets way too nervous, way too easily, and it doesn't help that Daehyun seems to make that even worse.
Please don't start calling me Daehyunnie too. Daehyun sneakily glides a post-it note beneath Youngjae's eyes, making sure Jongup doesn't notice as he does. I'd rather be called something a bit cooler.
Youngjae smiles, mouthing, how come you don't tell him that. He points his thumb inconspicuously at Jongup who is too busy playing with his fingers boredly to even pay attention to them.
Daehyun makes a face split between conflicted and tense behind his mask. Discreetly, he writes, oh, please, don't tell me you'd even have the heart to tell him you didn't like a nickname he gave you.
I actually have, Youngjae mouths back proudly. After he made a habit out of calling me "Tubby Hyunggie" after he accidentally caught a glimpse of my stomach.
Dropping the pencil in his hands, Youngjae swears he can see Daehyun's jaw drop behind the mask he's wearing.
And within a few seconds, the older man is curled in on himself on the bed, clutching at his stomach and-
"Are you laughing?" Jongup shrieks beside him, leaning forward, and Youngjae slips off his shoulder and nearly falls over in shock. There's a huge smile on the boy's face and Youngjae briefly wonders if he's won the lottery because the look on Jongup's face is entirely too excited.
Daehyun tries to answer him, but all that comes out are loud guffaws blocked by his black mask. The blonde raises a hand, a sign saying to wait or to stop or something along those lines. Youngjae is too busy staring down at the older man, trying to cover his face with one hand as he giggles, to convey completely what he's trying to say. His laugh is cute, Youngjae can't help but think, and he's pretty sure Jongup is thinking along the same lines too because he's practically cooing at Daehyun, leaning forward, trying to steal away the mask around his mouth to see his smile.
"This is the first time I've ever seen you laugh!" Jongup exclaims, starting to laugh along too after successfully managing to peel the mask away to reveal Daehyun's smile, huge and bright.
And Youngjae feels a slight sense of accomplishment in his gut having been the first out of all of them to get Daehyun to laugh.
The aching pang in his stomach dies down, to a minimum at that fact, and Youngjae starts to laugh too, along with Jongup and Daehyun, falling forward on the bed to collapse on the two of them in a fit of giggles.
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