tw: mentions of suicide, child exploitation and abuse

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It was Friday evening and Seonghwa's house was currently empty, which did nothing to quench the flurry of thoughts that had swarmed his head. Most of them were negative, urging him to back out of it as soon as he could, and maybe Seonghwa should have. After all, it'd been years since he'd gone to the attic for this particular reason.

But, something in him kept him in place and prevented him from going back down and shutting his plans for tonight out of his mind entirely. As he stood by the attic's opening, all that could replay in his head were memories of the past. It made his chest and heart hurt, the nostalgia he felt bordering on bitter.

You can go back now. You don't need to do this, he told himself, but for the first time in a while, he wasn't keen on abiding by his mind's words. He wanted to do this, even when his emotions were threatening to spiral out of control.

Seonghwa exhaled a deep breath as soon as he finally entered the attic. The week had been tasking one so far with him trying to rid the thoughts about his mother and his supposed powers, as well as trying his best to not make Mingi any more suspicious of him. And surprisingly, convincing his best friend turned out to be the easiest of the three to accomplish. In fact, Mingi took his excuse in stride, not seeming all too bothered by his disappearance on Tuesday, which made Seonghwa a little more relieved than before.

But now, here he was in the heart of it all, inside a room that held everything that'd belonged to his mother. Despite the fact that he and his dad had moved places after his mother's death, his dad couldn't find it in his heart to give out, or throw away, the things she owned. So the man had put them in the small attic, neatly stacked and nearly spotless.

Seonghwa's feet felt like they'd sunk into the floor. It was like his body just refused to take a step further, and for a second the urge to listen to it was stronger than ever. But, Seonghwa pushed through; forced himself to keep moving.

One...two...three... Seonghwa mentally counted every step he made as he fought his hardest to remain composed. His eyes ran all over the dark room, noticing the many books and drawings tucked into the corners. His mother had always loved art.

Deciding against switching on the lights, Seonghwa inhaled yet another deep breath and knelt down beside the first set of closed boxes he spotted. His hands lightly trembled as he opened the first one, careful not to exert too much force because the last thing he wanted was to damage anything. Even with him being surrounded by things that had belonged to the woman who'd raised him once upon a time, he still felt like a stranger here.

It'd been so long...

A lump settled in Seonghwa's throat as soon as the first box was fully opened. It was the one with the pictures, all sorts of them depicting their early lives they'd all had together as a family of three. Of course. Something harsh twisted inside Seonghwa's chest at the mere sight of them.

Every part of Seonghwa screamed to quickly shut the box and just move along with his day. He could've walked out of there, maybe enter his room and call Mingi or something. Maybe he could've even texted Hongjoong and have the shorter boy distract him from everything else. He could've done all that, even more. Yet, his body remained rooted there, unable to leave.

His thumb ran over the smooth surface of the first picture. It was a framed one, showcasing him as a toddler all bundled up with puffy cheeks and everything, his features twisted with a huge frown even when he was situated between sheets of bright snow. Seonghwa could only faintly remember that time as it'd been so long since it'd happened, but he had no idea why he looked so close to crying.

It was then he remembered his mother telling him one night during summer that he'd used to get all pouty and cry for no reason as a baby. At that memory of her, Seonghwa felt the lump in his throat increase.

There were lots of pictures in there -- especially of him as a kid-- so Seonghwa couldn't go through them all. But he stopped on a particular one, his pulse quickening at the image.

His baby self was there in the photo, snug in between a younger version of his father and his mother. His dad was feeding him something, and his mother had been smiling big and wide, appearing to have taken the picture herself. It was times like these where Seonghwa got awestruck at the resemblance he and his mother had. He'd gotten his build and his dark hair from his father, but he had his mother's round eyes, nose and her exuberant smile. Even her face shape was the same as his.

Looking at her felt like he was looking at himself, but soon enough the wonderment eased away, leaving aches and wounds that were now opening up after years and years of bottling them up.

Because now, now he could see it. Maybe it was because he'd grown older, a little more experienced. Maybe it was because he'd seen things and had gotten more exposed to the outside world and its disappointments. Or maybe it was because he'd seen it countless times on his own face when he'd been trying to cope with the loss of his mother.

Because all he could witness while staring into his mother's eyes was dullness. Nothing. Seonghwa began to recount his most precious moments with her, remembering the way he used to get amazed at her positivity and her eyes that never seemed to lose their sparkle. But as he replayed them again, looking deeper into the details, he began to notice the many times her smiles had been forced, and that maybe, just maybe, those sparkles in her crinkled eyes were actually tears.

How could Seonghwa not have noticed? He felt like blaming himself like he'd done years ago, but the realized he'd been just a kid when it happened. He wouldn't have known anything back then because everything seemed alright on the surface, and as a kid, you always seemed to ignore the things that mattered most in favour of video games, or homework, or hanging out with your friends whenever you could. Things shouldn't have been complicated as a child, and to Seonghwa back then, that had been the case until it wasn't.

He'd known less of his mother's inner thoughts and feelings like he'd thought he did. He hadn't even known she was a Variant until recently. It made him feel...useless, because why couldn't he have been more observant of the signs? Why did he choose to get in trouble as a kid and worry his mother instead of being there for her?

But of course, he'd been just a kid. He didn't know anything was wrong until the world he knew of as home came crashing down before he could even catch his breath.

That day flashed behind Seonghwa's eyelids as soon as he shut his eyes and attempted to steady himself. The memory itself was so vivid, so fresh that it felt like it'd taken place only yesterday.

Seonghwa remembered that elatedness he'd felt rushing into his old house after spending some time over at Mingi's that December as clear as day. He'd been excitedly searching for his mother at that time, eager to tell her about the fun things he'd done with his best friend only for him to step into find her sound asleep in the bedroom she'd shared with his father. At least, he'd thought she'd been sleeping.

But soon enough, he found out she wasn't waking up. Obviously, Seonghwa blamed her unresponsiveness on her just being tired, but after a while, he'd begun to get a little worried. He'd then thought of Ms Hong's science classes, especially when she'd taught the students how to check for pulses. Realization gradually set in when he'd checked his mother's pulse and discovered she had none.

Everything passed by in a blur after that. After learning his mother had ended her own life by overdosing, nothing seemed to make much sense anymore.

Seonghwa liked to think he could've done something to stop it, or even reverse time and prevent it all from happening in the first place, but deep down he knew it was impossible. In the beginning, he'd often caught himself wondering why his mother had chosen to take her life. Was she not satisfied with what she had? Were he and his father not enough? Why did she have to go along with it? Looking at it all now, it'd been out of his hands, and hell, he was tired of asking questions he wouldn't be able to get the answers to. Now, he'd mostly accepted this reality, the one his mother was no longer a part of.

His father didn't take her death lightly, and Seonghwa suspected he'd probably never get over it either. Witnessing the mental and physical deterioration of the man had taken a toll on Seonghwa, causing him to lock up whatever he felt and experienced. Whenever the man had lashed out and blamed him for letting his mother die, anger and despair lacing his words, Seonghwa would never dare let his emotions show or allow himself to cry.

Despite that his father had already apologized countless times for what he'd done in the past, Seonghwa would often think about them and wonder if they were in fact true.

Seonghwa swallowed thickly as he looked at another picture. It wasn't framed, but it was another picture that showcased him and his mother together. He was smiling -- for once -- the baby pink scarf wrapped around his neck quite similar to the one his mom had herself. They were holding hands, and it was dark, the roads wet.

The lamps lighting up the streets shone into the area, shimmering soft gold over their grinning faces.

Seonghwa flipped the picture around once he took note of something behind it, and tears rapidly clogged his vision as soon as he saw the familiar scribble of his mother's handwriting.

I hope you can always smile as bright as this in the future, my little one. I hope we'll keep being happy together, with many more joys to celebrate!

Always know that I love you so, so much.

Mom♡♡

Seonghwa dropped the picture and sunk his head on his knees, his emotions finally getting the best of him. As he wrapped his arms around himself, trying to be as small as he possibly could, it was like everything -- from his racing heart and the tears dripping down his chin, to his trembling fingers -- had been struck into flames, encroaching him with destructive, multiplying heat.

He couldn't stop crying, and he hated it. He hated it so much. He was in pain, pain he could've easily avoided if he'd just listened to himself and left the attic as soon as he could. But he'd chosen to be stubborn instead, and now he was paying the price.

Seonghwa couldn't deny it any longer. He missed his mom. He missed her so much that there was no word in the world to describe how much he yearned to see her again, even it ended up being only once. He wanted to hug her and hold her hand for one last time, wanted to have her gently rock him to sleep. He wanted to experience that feeling of having her ruffle his dark locks as they laughed about a joke together, happy and carefree and in the moment. God, he wanted it all again.

He wanted his mother back again.

"Seonghwa?"

Before Seonghwa could lift up his head, the person was already crouched next to him, their hand on his back.

"D-Dad..." Seonghwa whispered, not caring anymore about the way he appeared or the numerous pictures of him and his mom scattered all around. He just needed to not be alone right now.

His father held him close -- their first real hug in years -- and Seonghwa finally allowed himself to lean into the man's shoulder. He still continued to sob, and he was sure his face was all gross and red and stuffy, but his father didn't once loosen his hold on him.

"I m-miss her." Seonghwa sounded hoarse and miserable. "I w-wish she was h-here."

"I miss her too," his father answered. His voice was noticeably tired, which was the norm lately, but Seonghwa couldn't bring himself to criticize it. He was tired as well. "But... You have me, right?"

Seonghwa looked at his father; really looked at him, and the man smiled in response, although it was clear he was close to crying too.

Seonghwa slowly nodded, choosing to believe his father this once. He inhaled a deep breath, the pounding in his chest a little lighter now. "And...you have me."

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"Seonghwa, oh my god, are you okay?"

The aforementioned male blinked, eyes settling right on Hongjoong. The shorter's hands were cupping his face, his gaze so alarmed it took the taller male aback for a second. But, then he remembered what'd prompted it all.

He'd talked to his dad for a bit, only to fall asleep and wake up in an ashen metallic room that only had one exit. He rushed out of there, of course, but then he was quickly met by stagnant water that swallowed his legs up to his knees. Still, he continued to wade through until he came across what appeared to be some sort of...examination room. It'd been dark as well with static, broken lights and numerous corroded equipments.

Then he'd seen Hongjoong strapped onto a platform, the binds digging horrifyingly deep into his skin, and at that point in time Seonghwa could no longer control himself. He'd wasted no more time and tried to get Hongjoong out of that death trap, panic burning through his bloodstream. He kept panicking even when Hongjoong awoke and broke himself off, which in turn brought them to this moment.

"I'm okay," Hongjoong tried again, but Seonghwa's eyes could only run over the faint bruises that'd already formed over the smaller's exposed arms. "You just happened to end up in one of my nightmares."

"I'm sorry," Seonghwa apologized. "I just -- my dad and I managed to have a decent conversation for the first time in months, and I kinda had a rough evening."

Hongjoong lowered his hands to wrap them around the taller's shoulders. He seemed determined not to let him go, and honestly, Seonghwa didn't mind it. "I'm happy for you and your dad, but what do you mean by a 'rough evening'?"

This was supposed to be Hongjoong's nightmare, but with the boy's body so closs and his warm honey eyes trained solely on him, Seonghwa felt protected. He maintained their eye contact, slowly finding it easier to open up about tonight.

"It's about...my mom," he bit his lip, thinking about how he should word his next sentences. "You already know she died. But she'd... ended her life, and -- and I decided to look through our family photos for whatever reason. And then I may or may not have cried, and then my dad showed up and hugged me and I told him I missed her." Seonghwa paused, letting his gaze drop. "Sorry -- I'm rambling a lot aren't I?"

"Maybe," Hongjoong teased, but the worry had returned to his pretty eyes. "I'm sorry that happened."

"There's no reason for you to apologize, so it's fine."

"But I feel bad," Hongjoong said, stroking Seonghwa's dark hair that had already started growing longer, which the taller boy wholeheartedly welcomed. "You didn't deserve any of that."

"Well, I dunno," Seonghwa allowed himself to grin, "maybe I can get a little kiss...?"

"Wow, you missed me that much?" Hongjoong asked, his smile wide and his eyes flashing with mischief.

Seonghwa only nodded, tugging softly at Hongjoong's loose, black shirt to pull him even closer. "I always do."

Hongjoong's lips were on his in less than a second, so achingly tender it had Seonghwa's heart skipping multiple beats.

He knotted Hongjoong's hair with his hands, feeling the shorter boy shiver underneath his touch. It was something Seonghwa hadn't expected, but committed to memory nonetheless.

Seonghwa soon had Hongjoong backed up against the wall, the shorter's soft giggles like heaven on earth as he sucked and kissed his skin, working on making him feel good. Hongjoong's touches were pure, unadulterated bliss, and his kisses were like magic, and for a while, Seonghwa was happy with it all.

But as the minutes stretched on, Hongjoong started getting a little less responsive.

"I wish we were somewhere else but here, Hwa," he uttered, and truthfully, Seonghwa agreed with him.

"Does teleportation work here?"

Hongjoong shook his head, beaming when Seonghwa absently twirled a lock of his brown hair with his fingers. "Unfortunately, it doesn't."

"I remember Yeosang saying I can Dreamwalk," Seonghwa said. "Maybe I can dreamwalk us out of here."

Hongjoong's golden eyes sparkled with anticipation as he eagerly clapped. "Come on, give it a shot."

"Where do you want to be the most right now?" Seonghwa asked, the shorter's enthusiasm spreading over to him.

"Your bedroom."

Pink shone on Seonghwa's cheeks. He scratched his neck. "R-Really?"

Hongjoong ruffled his hair. "Woah, you're so fucking cute it's insane. But...if that's what you want..."

Shockingly, Seonghwa brought them over to the dream version of his room as a result of only thinking about it. Then, they both laid on his bed, unashamedly making out again for some time before the atmosphere became a lot more serious.

With Seonghwa's head nestled right on Hongjoong's heartbeat, fingers languidly trailing patterns over his collarbone and chest, he listened attentively as Hongjoong began to disclose his earliest memories as a child. He never once lost his concentration as Hongjoong talked about being abandoned as a baby with no recollection of how his real parents looked like until the Gathering gained information about them, as well as having to grow up in an orphanage as a result.

"That orphanage was, quite frankly, nothing but trash," Hongjoong joked to try and lighten the mood, and when Seonghwa smiled he cupped the taller's face and rubbed his thumb over his cheek. "It'd been called Sunrise Orphanage, which was ironic since I barely got to see a real sunrise since I had to be kept inside most of the time. No family wanted to adopt me, so I made friends with the other kids that weren't wanted as well so I could feel a little better about my situation. That was how I met Yunho."

"I want you though," Seonghwa said, to which Hongjoong chuckled at.

"And I want you." Hongjoong winked, laughing when Seonghwa cringed. "Anyways, Yunho and hit it off instantly. He'd been such a quiet kid and never really talked much, which earned the attention of a couple bullies that loved to pick on him. I quickly fought them off and made them scared of me, and even when I got in trouble for it, at least Yunho was finally being left alone.

"He always liked following me around and got really talkative whenever we hung out, which made me so happy. We spent so much time together, went through all the good and the bad moments together, and it solidified our relationship." The adoring look in Hongjoong's eyes as he spoke about Yunho let Seonghwa know just how much he treasured his brother.

However, Hongjoong's smile faded as he spoke his next words. "When I was around nine and Yunho had just turned eight, we'd snuck out of the orphanage for a bit to see the stars before dinnertime. But we ended up never making it back. A group of people known as the Red Owl had taken us."

Seonghwa held Hongjoong tighter than before. "You don't need to continue, Joong..."

Hongjoong grinned at the nickname. "I want to, though. I wanna get this off my chest once and for all."

He proceeded to speak of the horrendous experimentations he and Yunho had undergone with the countless other children and teens in the same position as them. He'd also talked out the dark matter called Mons that the mastermind of it all, Dr Choi, had implemented in his experiments as well. Seonghwa thought it was nothing short of wicked and barbaric.

"There were different labels, different categories that everyone was sperated into. Yunho and I were put under the 'aquatic section', and almost everyday we had to be put in water and tested on to force us to develop our powers. That horrible doctor and his workers genetically altered our DNA, and up until I was thirteen and the Gathering found out about their base, Yunho and I had to endure all of that."

Seonghwa didn't know what to say. Hongjoong and Yunho had gone through much worse than he could have ever imagined, and it broke his heart. "I'm so sorry you guys went through that. I really am."

Hongjoong laughed. "It's okay."

"No, it's not."

"Then...make me feel better?"

Seonghwa shortened the distance between them, and planted a chaste kiss on Hongjoong's forehead. "...Think of it as a 'well done' for getting through it all and coming out victorious... despite all the pain you'd gone through but never, ever deserved."

An odd, unfamiliar look crossed Hongjoong's features, and then he was biting hard on his lip and averting his stare, blinking repeatedly.

"Hongjoong, are you -- are you crying?"

"Nope!" Hongjoong exclaimed, covering his eyes with his hands. "I'm not crying. It's just allergies, I swear."

Seonghwa leaned in, holding Hongjoong's wrists. "Hey, it's okay. I won't judge you or anything. Heck, you saw me crying too."

Hongjoong did not budge, but his sniffles were still heard.

"Aww, Joongie..." Seonghwa cooed. "Don't be shy..."

Hongjoong scoffed. "Shut up."

"I'll kiss you again if you let me see your face."

Hongjoong's hands fell, revealing his tearstained cheeks. "I didn't show my face because of what you said, by the way. My hands were just getting tired."

Seonghwa only hummed, wiping the shorter's tears away. Hongjoong kept staring elsewhere, his long lashes framing his glowing eyes. He looked so pretty. "You're still as handsome as ever, Hongjoong."

Hongjoong's lips jutted into a tiny pout. "Fuck... You're making me feel things I never thought I could."

"You've made me feel things ever since I saw you that night." Seonghwa brought Hongjoong's hand to his lips and kissed it. "I'm so thankful, so grateful you're in my life."

Hongjoong didn't respond, but he didn't need to. It was clear from his eyes and expression alone that Seonghwa meant so much to him too. They'd both faced their own share of hell in the past, but in the end they found each other, and that was all that mattered.

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a/n: fave comment is by H0PEMINGI cuz its so relatable lmao. this is also my fave chapter

thoughts?