It was past twelve a.m. when Jaemin heard the front door being pulled open.

He jerked upright from his seat, pulling his headphones off his neck and tossing them thoughtlessly onto his table, and wincing when they made contact. His heart was beating at the speed of a cheetah sprinting, sweaty fingers flying across the keyboard as he shut down the game in a hurry. And he was so close to completing the event, too. A shame.

It was the sound of the creaking steps that came next, and Jaemin's fear elevated. The dull orange light from his table lamp illuminated the beads of perspiration dotting his forehead; he wiped them away before switching off the lamp and jumping into bed, pulling the covers over his head and imitating an exaggeratedly dumb sleeping posture.

In good time too, because the door to his room opened a second later. Illumination flooded into the room as Taeyong leaned against the door, the lit-up side of his face contrasting with the half that was in shadow. "Don't bother hiding," he said. "I heard the bed creaking."

Stupid creaking bed, Jaemin thought as he considered his options. Should he admit that he was awake, or try his best to pretend that he was completely innocent? He gave up, pulling down the blanket and sitting up in his bed so he faced Taeyong. "I think I need a better bed."

Taeyong's lips thinned as he looked at him, folding his arms over his chest. "Jaem, I told you to go to sleep by eleven."

Jaemin's eyes narrowed. He pushed his cotton-candy hair away from his eyebrows, dully noticing that the edges of his hair were damp with sweat. He'd managed to lose track of time again. "Don't act so high-and-mighty," he said, looking at his brother pointedly. Well, not his biological brother, but his brother nonetheless. "You've been coming home even later than usual. Forget going to bed by eleven, you don't even step into the house by then."

Taeyong's expression turned guilty, and Jaemin's lips fashioned themselves into something imitating the teenager version of a pout. "Look," he started, then hesitated, brow furrowing, "it's something important. I'm doing this for both of us."

Jaemin watched the way he spoke, observing the tiny details that would probably be overlooked by someone who didn't know Taeyong. The slight tightness in his expression, the slurred rs, and the shadows under his eyes. Granted, the shadows looked like they practically belonged on his face, but Jaemin knew this was only because Taeyong stayed up late a lot, juggling work and college at the same time.

Jaemin often felt guilty when he looked at his brother, mainly because he knew that Taeyong was doing it for both of them. He had done so for the past few years, being the only parent and only family Jaemin had ever known, somehow keeping a roof over their heads and feeding a growing adolescent at the same time.

He sighed, tipping his head back to hear the satisfying way his neck spine cracked, and his pink hair fell back into his eyes. He needed a haircut. "Sorry," he mumbled, voice sounding low and gravelly to his ears.

Taeyong's eyes flashed as he heard him apologize, and he took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," he said, uncrossing his arms. "For always coming home late. But that doesn't mean I will hesitate to ground you if you stay up all night gaming again."

"You can't ground me if you're not home," Jaemin countered, grinning.

"Watch me," he replied, a ghost of a smile playing over his lips like a candle's tiny flame wavering in the wind. For a moment, Jaemin felt pleased to have been the one to bring it, however small, to his face. "Now go to sleep. You have school tomorrow."

|

"Don't you have school, though?" Kai asked Mark, who was sitting directly opposite him in the minivan.

Mark frowned. "I'm in college."

Whatever Mark may have expected for the team's first mission together, it had definitely not involved them going to the scene of the to-be-committed crime in a family van. Taemin had been sure, though, and Mark didn't want to cross him. It wasn't that big of a deal, he guessed. At least the van fit them all and smelled nice. There were worse options.

The ability training they had undergone was minimal, curtailed by their deadline and the other stuff they had to deal with. Neither Baekhyun nor Taemin had revealed the exact nature of their mission yet: was it a raid? Taking in a big-shot gang leader? Saving someone? Mark's mind came up with a thousand different ideas, but none seemed to fit Taemin's acute excitement or Baekhyun's sharp concern.

It almost felt like a common scene from the action movies Mark liked to watch, when everyone was getting ready to dive off a plane. They were all sitting in the back of the van, strapped to the sides with the modifications that Taemin had made to the vehicle, with Baekhyun and Taemin occupying the front seats. Everyone was already in their suits, developed versions of the suits that they had worn on partner missions, tailored specifically to fit and control their respective powers.

Mark's mask was clutched in his hand. He couldn't easily forget the last time he had forgotten it—Taeyong had made him sit in the back of the car in a parking lot for the entire mission—and the time he had thought he had forgotten it, and had ended up bombing a car.

It felt strange seeing everyone suited up and sitting in the same place. The word 'team' wasn't one Mark usually associated with them, as the environment wasn't exactly cooperative, but that was the first word that came to his mind when he looked at all of them. Maybe we really can work together.

"Like a superhero team," Ten mused, as if completing his thought as if he had read his mind. For a long second, Mark wondered if mind-reading was Ten's power (and almost freaked out) but then realized that he had spoken out loud.

"A superhero team? Does that mean we're like, the Korean Avengers or something?" Mark grinned, unable to not make the reference.

Taeyong rolled his eyes, and Mark could almost see him respond even before he did. "For the last time, Mark, no, we're not. Lucas and Ten aren't even Korean."

They fell silent again, the black-haired boy still too proud of his reference to feel embarrassed about being shot down. "Do we get to choose a name for ourselves?"

Taeyong gave him a dead-eyed look.

"We may have to," Lucas said, and everyone looked at him, because he rarely spoke. He squirmed a bit under the attention. "Seeing as we're in the papers and everything."

"We're in the what?" Ten exclaimed, and Mark blushed as he remembered himself and Taeyong getting caught by paparazzi. "Aren't we supposed to be top-secret?"

Everyone fell into a brooding quiet. Mark and Taeyong shared a look of understandingly, silently agreeing not to breathe a word about their sort-of failed mission to the rest.

It was a moment before Taeyong turned to him, something close to friendliness in his expression, but Mark couldn't be sure. This was Taeyong, after all. "So," he started conversationally, and one could see the amount of effort it was taking him to even look casual while knowing that the team was in the news partly because of him. "What's your power?"

"Uh." Mark pursed his lips, managing an embarrassed smile. "I don't have one."

The man stared at him, uncomprehending. "What do you mean?"

"I don't have powers," Mark repeated, feeling uneasy as all of them looked at him, the weight of his gaze making him feel small.

He remembered the time Taemin had first recruited him, and Mark had told him he didn't have superhuman abilities. That's okay, Taemin had told him, smiling the most genuine smile Mark had ever seen on him before pressing a hand to Mark's chest, right over his heart. I need what's here, he had said, proceeding to tap the side of his head. And what's here.

It was the fondest memory he had of the billionaire, and he held on to it whenever he started to doubt the man's intentions.

"You don't have superpowers?" This was Lucas, sounding as incredulous as the rest of them looked. Mark shrunk further into his seat, regretting ever opening his mouth. I shouldn't have said anything.

Thankfully, he didn't have to reply, because at that moment, the van rolled to a stop. Ten looked up, tilting his head to the side in a questioning manner. "Why did we stop?"

"It's kind of obvious," said Taeyong, undoing the buckle on his seatbelt and smiling his special, thin smile. "We're here."