Mark walked the winding stone path down the garden. His expression was calm, thoughtful even, enough dispelling any assumptions that might have said he seemed moody—or at least, it could have been, except for his fisted hands shoved into his pockets, straining against his jeans.

Shao, who had been perched on a stone bench, grinned when she saw him come up the path, her silvery scar flashing like fish scales in water. The night sky was dark, but the harsh white lights from the floodlights lining the tall garden walls made everything look brighter. "You got thrown out, too?"

"I wouldn't say thrown out," Mark mumbled. He stood next to the bench for a few seconds, vacantly staring at the ground, and she raised her eyebrows at him expectantly. With a sigh admitting defeated acceptance, he sat down next to her, retrieving his hands from his pockets and resting his forearms on his knees. "Okay, yeah, I got thrown out."

She kicked up a foot to rest the heel against the edge of the bench, and interlaced her fingers. She fixed her hands over her bent knee and rested her chin against it, giving him a curious look. It seemed an impossible position to be in while wearing sturdy camo pants, but she managed it. Well, Mark thought, she was an ex-trapeze artist.

"Why?" she asked. There was nothing mocking in her tone, but a faint amusement lit up her eyes. "I understand why they'd want me to wait out here while weaponization was being discussed, but you're the master engineer and everything. It seems kind of—I don't know, stupid."

"I explained the mechanism of the Bracelight to them," Mark elaborated mournfully, head hanging. "And then I showed them how to work the controls to activate separate weaponry, but I forgot to turn on the safety, and as the controls were live—" He broke off, biting his lip. "Well, you can guess what happened."

"Actually, I can't."

Mark smiled at her ruefully. "I almost blew a hole in the middle of Ten's torso."

Shao stared at him for a few seconds, and he stared back, the smile fading from his lips like the details of a washed-out photograph. Then she threw her head back and laughed. It was a full laugh, nicer than he had expected, unrestrained and free.

He blinked at her with rounded eyes, unsure whether to laugh along or be offended. Before he could decide on an alternative, her shoulders ceased shaking, and her laugh relaxed into a wide grin. She set her feet back down, and leaned the heels of her palms against the bench, looking at him with the same disarming smile that seemed teasing and reassuring at the same time.

"I missed a lot, then," she said, eyes glittering. Her hair was tied back into a ponytail, but since her hair was unevenly chopped, strands and locks of it had escaped their bind and framed her face like limp vines the color of charcoal. "Still, they shouldn't have thrown you out. Can't have you falling to my level."

Mark glanced at her in surprise. If she was embittered by the last statement, she sure didn't show it, face still aglow with a now relaxed smile. "What do you mean, your level?"

She made a face, raising and dropping her shoulders in a single movement. "I don't know," she said. "My non-Super level, maybe. It seems crazy enough that I'm cruising along with you guys like some kind of human lackey."

"Human lackey?" he parroted, then frowned. "That's not true. We're a team. All of us, including you."

"Is that it?" She raised an eyebrow. "The others barely treat me like I'm human—they pretty much pretend I'm not there, like I'm an inconvenience. Baekhyun tries, but it's more of his unfailing politeness than anything."

Mark opened his mouth, feeling conflicted. Part of him wanted to tell her about Taeyong, but the rest of him said that it wasn't his secret to tell. "But—" he started, feeling upset at the dark turn in the otherwise harmless conversation. "Taeyong—"

"Ah, Taeyong." Her voice took on a dry tone. "Him most of all. Unlike the others, he can't keep his irritation inside. Do you see how careful he is, hiding stuff from me? That guy's obsessive."

She laughed, trying to pass it off as a joke, but it only made Mark more upset. He guessed he couldn't say anything to defend Taeyong without giving away his own assumptions, but he could try to make her feel more included. "What about me?" he asked stubbornly.

Shao glanced at him, as if she was surprised that he was still trying. "We're poles apart no matter how you talk to me, Mark."

"That's not true," he protested, fully aware of how petulant he sounded. "Remember when you said you lost everything in a fire? Well, my parents died in a fire, too, though I wasn't there with them."

Her eyes softened. "Mark—"

"That's not it." He shook his head firmly. "I'm a non-Super, too. All I have is this." He tapped the side of his head. "I'm not cool like the others, but I don't doubt for one second that I'm just as important to the team as everyone else." He set his jaw determinedly. "You are, too. We're not complete without all eight of us. You might be a late, accidental addition, but it was a stroke of luck that we found you. Good luck."

She had her lips pressed together; staying silent. He barreled on.

"And what if we're not Supers like them? We can be, like, the duper to their super." Mark knew he was slowly crossing the line to nonsensical, but he was far beyond the point of control. "I'm good with machines, and I know it. You might not be the same, but you're—you can do cool gymnastic stuff. And we're all dudes, so we can't be pretty and, I don't know, charming and stuff. But you're pretty. And you can do the Poison Ivy seduction stuff—" He broke off, realizing he had strayed from his point completely. "Uhm."

Shao, however, didn't seem to care that he had started blabbering. There was a soft, incredulous light in her eyes, and she was looking at him with all the fragile brittleness of butterflies' wings. "You think I'm pretty?" she asked softly.

Mark opened his mouth, eyes wide, but couldn't think of anything to say. "In a totally objective way," he hurried, then stopped short. "Wait, that sounds worse—"

"You're wanted in the lab," said a new voice, and both of them turned to look at Taeyong as he strolled down the path towards them, looking bored and a little annoyed. He jerked his chin at Shao, making Mark glance at her, only to realize that she had wiped her face clean of expression. "Baekhyun wants to show you how to use a gun."

"A gun?" Her voice was back to its slightly annoying, highly-entertained tone. "Did you guys think twice about not letting me near fire?"

"Yeah, well, you're going with us anyway, so they thought it would be better if you had something to defend yourself with," Taeyong said. He stopped abruptly, standing stiffly as Shao got to her feet, looking hesitant as if he was on the verge of saying something.

Behind her back, Mark gestured violently at him, his face animated.

Taeyong's eyes flickered to him, narrowing fractionally, before they went back to the ground. "Listen, I—" He stopped, and so did Shao, tilting her head at him in confusion. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I heard some of what you guys were talking about," he said helplessly. He looked the picture of anguish, and Mark ached to help him out, but knew he had to let him do this alone. "And I, uh..."

Shao raised her eyebrows at him.

Taeyong sighed, looking defeated, and slowly raised his gaze from the floor to her face. Mark looked on in confusion as he raised his arms from his sides, opening them slightly, and Shao's face broke into a delighted smile.

Realization hit him when Taeyong's arms closed around her in a stiff, awkward hug, his face a mask of discomfort. Shao tucked her chin into the crook of his neck, and he relaxed slightly. A second pair of arms closed around her from behind, enveloping both of them, and she made a tiny noise of surprise.

"Don't freak out, it's still me," Taeyong #2 grumbled as he hugged her from behind, and Mark felt like crying tears of joy.

"So you were listening," she whispered in awe as they let her go, Taeyong's clone winking out of existence as he backed up, looking more uncomfortable than Mark had ever seen him. She took a backward step, still grinning at Taeyong, whose face looked like a sheet of fire. "Don't think I'm going to forget about this!"

"Oh, please," he groaned, but she had already taken off, jogging up the garden path to the building. "Shut up, Mark."

"I didn't even say anything!" the boy protested, still grinning from ear to ear.

"You were wiggling your eyebrows," Taeyong said, with a hint of a smile on his face. "That speaks louder than words."

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me writing this scene: *takes a break to scream into a pillow* writes *takes another break to have a mental break down* writes *takes third break to cry over mark* wri