JOON POV:

The guilt doesn't ease straight away, it lingers. Like the remnants of a nightmare that seeps into consciousness, like the ebbing tide that laps gently at your feet before drifting away, leaving the remnant of its salty touch behind. It remains when we come back home, even if the solid warmth of her remains like a phantom touch, pressed against me and winding careful arms around me.

It remains even as Tae climbs into my bed and winds himself around me, spooning me and presses small kisses to the nape of my neck, tugging my shirt away to press his warm lips to my shoulder too.

"Stop thinking so hard hyung. I can hear it." He murmurs lowly, his voice vibrating against my skin as he speaks.

I sigh, hand drifting to hold onto his laced hands, feeling the steady warmth of them, he separates his interlinked hands to grab mine and trap it underneath.

"Hyung we can't erase what's happened, we can't make the clock reverse but we can help her going forward, we can help by being there for her, helping her heal and healing alongside her." he says.

He can't see my face but his words makes a small smile appear on my face.

When did Tae get so mature and so wise? When did the time come when he had to reassure his hyung, rather than require the comfort from me, from us?

"I just never want her to ever suffer again. I don't want her to speak because of a compulsion but because she wants to." I confess.

All this time working with Habaek, with doing research about the connections with trauma and selective mutism made me realise that the reason Habaek was so intent on it was because above everything, he wanted her to heal, he wanted her to overcome that trauma, to grow stronger and past it.

Which was why I threw myself into researching and reading just as much because I wanted her to heal. I wanted to hear the sweetness of her voice without her having to ever feel burdened to speak.

Which was why the screams and pleas haunted me, why in the six days that we hadn't seen her, hadn't heard from her- they echoed in my ears, they pulled me out of sleep, they kept me distracted and troubled. Why when I read her notes written to me, poured over the notes we'd exchanged- I couldn't hear anything but the agony in the tremble of her voice, hearing those same words as steeped in pain. And the pleading distressed voice was always hurt no matter how much the words changed.

It made me beg and wish for a way to turn back time, to halt the clock and stop time in that instance when she was falling backwards and tug her forward, tug her towards me.

That rather than pull me away, she'd let me fall. I could've climbed out of the water, but her trauma which I grew certain was tied to water, or a larger body of it, had pushed her to save me. Even if it meant she got swallowed up by it instead.

And seeing her. Seeing her was something I'd needed, not only craved and wanted, I needed to see her whole and healthy, I needed to see her alive, to wipe away that small niggling worry and paranoia that she hadn't made it out, that she was still captive to the waters. And when I saw her it was like the anchor that was holding me down, keeping me restrained was finally releasing its hold, was releasing all the worries and fears I'd harboured and gently nudged them out to sea.

And Tae's words help become that final nudge, that final push to free me from the chains that had wrapped around my heart and soul and constricted them until it felt like I couldn't breathe, that I could suffocate from this feeling of helplessness and grief and horror.

"She won't. Our stubborn girl won't do anything she doesn't want to. You can count on that." He says, fondness seeping into his tone, lips curved into a smile when he presses a kiss to the curve of my ear, to the skin behind it.

Fondness at calling her ours, at knowing her well enough to know what she'll do, how she'll behave.

And as selfish as it feels, I want her to speak, I want to hear more and more of the sweet gentle voice, hear it until it's all I hear, hear it until the sweet melody of her voice becomes merged with my heart, intertwines with the steady constant thud of it.

But I want her to do so happily, want her to speak, to tell me more, to have deep endless conversations that pan over hours.

I want it all. And I want it with her.

Want to share this with her.

And I hope that our sweet stubborn girl, fights for what she wants, fights to overcome what she has endured because she wants to see the stronger version of herself.

Never because of force or compulsion.

-----

A week passes of constant visits, of Jin hyung cooking up foods for (Y/N) because he fretted as he was packing boxes, was that she needed feeding up- that she looked run-down and could do with all the nutrition hyung could make, dashing out to the supermarket late at night to stock up on food and get the finest ingredients to feed her with. Sometimes he went to drop them off himself, returning quite some time with a pleased smile and empty boxes. Sometimes he gave in to the maknaes whining and fussing and sent them off, because it was worth it when we saw the relaxed states and smiles that wouldn't slide off their faces.

And it was a week of (Y/N) spending more time with us, petulantly sitting out of dance practice Hobi remarked over dinner until her pouting and sad expressions had been too much to bear and they'd tugged her to let loose and dance with them. Because Jiminie shared, her set of puppy eyes coupled with the softest 'please' was a sure-fire way to turn them into putty, Kookie adding that we really didn't stand a chance against them. That maybe just maybe they outdid the maknaes' combined.

And in that week I'd resigned myself to not be able to see her, to only hear of her spending time with the others even as my longing grew and grew.

But was surprised when one day Yoongi hyung called and asked me to come to Magic Shop, that (Y/N) was there and wanted to speak to the two of us.

I didn't know why it felt so ominous, so daunting to hear those words when all I wanted to do was spend time with her, to know if she was doing okay.

It felt as if I didn't deserve to be in her company, and hearing the slight tone of vulnerability from Yoongi hyung only solidified that fear for me. 

And as I push open the door to enter, fear thrumming in my veins the last thing I expected was to walk in and see (Y/N) and Yoongi hyung holding hands, intertwined and laced together over one of the tables, (Y/N)'s hand encased in his, his fingers rubbing circles into her skin.

"Namjoon-ah." Yoongi hyung greets with a sigh of relief, eyes brightening even if there's a nervous set to his jaw. A flash of worry that passes through his eyes but can't quite disguise.

"Hi Joon. I need to talk to the two of you." she says softly, gently.

And the small smile to her lips seems almost foreboding, as if the truth of what's about to hit us is disguised in it.

As if what she's about to say to the two of us, specifically us, is something that we'll need to be strong for. That it'll wipe any trace of a smile off her face.

And for a single instance I wish I didn't know how to read the stories in her expressions so easily. Wished that I was wrong.

"Do you have somewhere...private that we can talk?" she adds tentatively.

The hope flickers out of Yoongi hyung's face, expression shutters. As if whatever optimistic thoughts he was holding on to, slip out of reach, slip away from his grip.

No matter how tightly he'd been holding onto it in the first place.

And when we sit in hyung's personal office, the three of us fidgeting nervously on the couches, she sits opposite us, facing us.

And I don't know what to make of it.

"(Y/N)...you can tell us anything you need to." Yoongi hyung says gently.

She peers at us, fidgeting with her hands nervously.

And already I want to bolt over to her side and hold her, want to hug the nervousness away and calm her.

But the look of resolve that enters her eyes tells me she wants to do this alone, wants to say whatever it is by facing us, looking us in the eye.

But never did I expect her to open her mouth and say the words she does.

"I think the two of you deserve to know why I have trauma related to water. Why I reacted the way I did. I feel the two of you have the right to know before the others." She says.

And there's a look of finality in her eyes. A determination that comes with a raw agony and vulnerability.

And all I know is we have to be brave for her. And no matter what she says I'll be there to support her through it.

(Y/N) POV:

I don't know how one thought leads to the other. Or where the initial thought came from as I stood in the kitchen washing dishes and spoke up as the others cleared up.

"I'm thinking about telling them." I say vaguely as I'm rinsing off a plate.

There's the sound of a glass shattering as it hits the tiled floor, I turn to see the slack hand of Mi-sun unnie as she peers at me wide-eyed. Shocked. For the first time perhaps I see her looking truly stumped and confused and scared. All at once.

"Tell them what?" she says, voice a nervous screech.

Behind her Habaek oppa has stilled, turns to look at me wide-eyed and unblinkingly, face neutral.

Maybe it's the shattering of the glass that makes me think of Namjoon specifically. That if I tell he and Yoongi are the first ones who come to mind.

Because they'd been the closest when I fell, they'd harboured the most guilt and because I knew they were undeserving of all the negativity that was building up inside. Knew they deserved to at least know why I'd gone into a meltdown.

"Tell Namjoon and Yoongi why I'm scared of water...of open water." I say.

There's the sound of the water still rushing out the tap, my hand going to shut it from the sensor as I look at them.

Watch carefully to see how their expressions shift.

And it's almost complete stark opposites of each other.

Mi-sun unnie's posture loosens from the statue she'd become- a mixture of relief mingling with sorrow and pain. It makes me wonder 

And Habaek oppa freezes, stiffening. And yet his eyes are raw and brimming over with emotion.

"Cherub...you don't need to share your griefs for the sake of it." He says slowly, softly. Watching me to see how I take the news, whether my words hurt.

"I know that...it's not only that I feel they deserve to know the most. But I want to. I trust them." I say simply.

His stiffness thaws, melting into something tender and sweet and deep. As if those words trigger something inside him. And he leaves the dishes as he hurries forward and scoops me close, a tight firm squeezing embrace, pressing his lips to my head.

"You've never said those words. You've never wanted to tell anyone before. And...I'm proud of you. So proud cherub." He murmurs, lips moving against my hairline before he tucks me close again, voice muffled and thick.

"For a moment.. for a moment I thought you wanted to tell them you're a siren." Mi-sun unnie's voice comes out, spluttering and choked.

I peer from around Habaek oppa's broad frame.

She looks stunned still. As if she's still processing it.

I immediately shake my head.

"Never. I don't want them to ever know the worst part of me. The part I hate about me. That's a secret I intend to take to my grave." I say firmly even if my voice comes out shaky.

Because the amount of resentment and hatred I have for me because of who I am, because I am a siren is something I couldn't ever beat to see reflected in their eyes. As selfish and greedy and deceptive as it is, I don't think I could ever survive it- to see even a glimpse of it in their eyes. In the eyes I always wanted to see only the same tender affection in. To see even a shred of the hatred I harboured for myself in theirs would tear me apart. Would destroy me.

Habaek oppa's arms tighten around me at the same time that unnie's expression falls.

"Don't hate yourself for something you couldn't control, don't blame yourself when you're a victim." Habaek oppa says fiercely.

Mi-sun unnie nods in agreement.

"As much as I despite being in service to the Ocean, I'm glad you got to find the boys. I'm glad that after decades you're falling in love again. Just as boldly and vibrantly as if it was the first time." she says, lips curved up gently.

And I nod.

The boys somehow appeared in my life at a moment I needed them, needed someone the most. They came at a time where my life was upturned and things were becoming uncertain. When I didn't know what my future could hold.

And now I know they're there until my service is over. That even if time will eventually tear us apart, they'll have made my time beautiful and memorable and sweet.

They'll have helped in a way they'd never could've known.

"We'll support you through everything. And be right by your side." Mi-sun unnie adds, coming to wrap her arms around me from behind, pressing a kiss to my neck.

And I wish that the security and comfort I felt then, of them gathering up my broken pieces and putting me together, stayed with me tomorrow.

That when I met them, I wouldn't be afraid and hesitate.

And that above all, that once they knew why I hurt, they wouldn't see me as weak and leave.

But a deeply-rooted part of me trusted them, felt as if I could.

That I'd been truly lucky and blessed to have them.

But even so, that doesn't stop the nerves when I get ready to leave the next day, hovering at the door as Habaek oppa hugs me again.

"If you want to turn right around when you see them and leave without saying a word then that's fine too." He says softly, making sure I know and remember there's an out, that there is always another option for me.

I hug him back tightly.

"I know. I love you." I say, pecking his cheek.

"I love you too cherub. Never forget that." He says before letting me go.

I nod.

And this time when I step out, it's with a lot more courage and confidence.

And the strong fierce love of Habaek oppa and Mi-sun unnie is what doesn't let my resolve fail me as I walk into Magic Shop, where I know Yoongi will be working.

Though his face is surprised he smiles as he steps out from behind the counter, handing over the job to Yugyeom- the friendly tall worker.

"(Y/N) it's nice to see your sweet face. How are you?" he says softly, my cheeks warming from the casual compliment.

I nod.

Making an okay gesture out of habit before I startle, realising I could speak now, that there's nothing holding me back from speaking to them.

But he shakes his head when my mouth opens.

"No pressure." He says, easily.

And leads me over to one of the small nooks with comfy armchairs, sitting me down first, hands lingering on my arms and peering at me with soft tenderness with his dark observing eyes.

"Is there anything I can get you? I can make you a drink? Or go to the café nearby?" he asks once he sits down opposite me.

I shake my head.

"Thank you though Yoongi." I say softly.

And watch as his soft open expression becomes brighter. Lips curving into a sweet gummy smile.

"Your voice is lovely." He says.

I duck my head, cheeks getting warmer.

He laughs.

"I mean it. I'll say it for as long as I need to as well." He says, face radiant with genuine sincerity and joy.

I peer up at him.

"Yoongi could you call Namjoon to come too?" I ask.

His face expresses confusion but he nods, already getting his phone out and shooting a text to him, peering at me when his phone pings in response.

"He'll be here as soon as he can." He says.

I nod, fingers fidgeting on the surface of the table restlessly until after a few moments, Yoongi's hand stretches out to take mine in his, lacing our fingers together and giving a gentle squeeze.

Giving me silent comfort as if he knows I need it.

That same comfort I wish I could have when I choose to sit opposite him and Namjoon later, on different couches. But feeling as if I needed to see their expressions, that if I sat between them I'd crumble more.

"I think the two of you deserve to know why I have trauma related to water. Why I reacted the way I did. I feel the two of you have the right to know before the others." I say.

Their expressions soften, eyes flicker with hurt and understanding.

"You don't need to tell us anything you don't need to." Namjoon says softly, face open and understanding.

I nod.

"I know that. I want to. If you'll listen." I add on nervously.

Yoongi's face which had been carefully observing becomes soft and gentle and he nods immediately.

"I'd listen to anything and everything you have to say. I'll listen whenever you want me to." Yoongi says.

I feel emotion catch in my throat, feel it clog up.

And think for a few long moments that I won't be able to speak, won't be able to get the words out because they're so, so understanding.

"Take your time. Take all the time." Namjoon says.

I nod and take a deep breath.

And when I talk, I don't stop. Can't stop.

Not until the words have spilled out of my mouth.

That the reason I hate open water is because I lost my parents and my younger brother to it. That the ocean, the water is a constant reminder of what I've lost, of the family that was cruelly torn from me, snatched prematurely from me.

That I hate the ocean because it reminds me of what I could still lose, reminded me that it could at any point take me too.

I don't speak of sapphire eyes peering at me from across the deck, of soft lips brushing my knuckles and of a name whispered to me. I don't speak of sparkling chandeliers casting a magical glow, or of bright joyous jolly tunes played out and bodies swaying and dancing. I don't speak of a satin smile and of sweet words of my mother or the bear hug of my father. I don't speak of the frantic desperation as I begged and pleaded to be saved from a watery grave, to be given a chance to live, to experience life before it was snatched away from me. I don't mention freezing numbing merciless waters tugging body after body into it, of silence falling under the night sky and of finding two other lost souls, shivering and numb- unable to process what's happened.

I don't say any of that.

But my words bring those memories to slam into me like crashing waves. Fierce torrent waters that are intent on consuming, destroying of engulfing me whole.

And don't realise that to speak those words aloud after centuries, to someone who wasn't Mi-sun unnie and Habaek oppa is like feeling just as lost and desperate as I'd been when the realisation sunk in that I was alone and had no-one.

"And I hate the water, it scares me and...I can't..." I sob, tears trickling down cheeks as my head bows, an echo of the grief I'd felt that had made me feel as if there was no other feeling that remained, that it would tear me apart and swallow me whole. It's not the same profound soul-tearing agony, it's dimmed the slightest over two and a half centuries, but the feelings are still raw, the fear and grief and horror still is. It's something I don't think I'll ever escape.

And I'm so lost in the feelings that I don't even realise when Namjoon and Yoongi had moved off the opposite sofa, have wound their arms around me carefully and tightly- silently promising to not let go, to not let me get washed away and consumed by those waves.

"We've got you. We'll always have you." Yoongi murmurs as warm fingers wipe away my cheeks and soft lips press to the side of my head.

I feel nothing but comfort and silent promise in the firmness of their hugs, as if they know that I'm feeling adrift and that I need the firmness of their touch to keep me still, to save me.

"We're so sorry. For all that you've endured and suffered. And for taking you there." Namjoon says before his arms tighten.

My hands go to clutch at their arms that encase me, grip tightly at them even as tears trickle down my cheeks, even as I feel my heart shatter afresh, even as my soul is torn open because of the rawest agony once more.

And through it all I feel the slightest sense of lightness, of the burden boring down and threatening to shatter my shoulders lifting in the slightest.

Because as I cling to them, they cling back just as fiercely.

And I know I'm not alone, I know they'll hold me and not let go.

(THERE YOU GO!! IT TOOK LONGER TO WRITE, SHOULD'VE BEEN TWO DAYS AGO BUT INSPIRATION DIDN'T HIT AND I DIDN'T WANT TO FORCE IT- STILL UNSURE ABOUT THIS CHAPTER TBH, BUT I KNOW IT'S BETTER THAN IF I'D FORCED MYSELF TO WRITE IT TWO DAYS BACK! LET ME KNOW YOUR ANGSTY HURTY THOUGHTS FOR THE CHAPTER, REACTIONS...EVERYTHING! BABY SIREN IS HURTING AND THE BOYS ARE WILLING TO DO EVERYTHING AND ANYTHING FOR HER!! AND SHE TOLD THEM!! ABOUT HER PARENTS! OBVIOUSLY NOT ABOUT BEING A SIREN- IT'S NOT SOMETHING THAT CAN JUST...COME OUT! SHE STILL HAS A LOT OF SELF-HATE TO GET THROUGH AND OVERCOME! I HOPE YOU ENJOYED AND LIKED THE CHAPTER! TAKE CARE AND STAY SAFE LOVES!)

QUESTION...WHAT'S THE WEATHER LIKE ATM FOR YOU ALL?

Mine is..cold. Rainy and cold. Every Londoner can relate to this. And for rainy...it's all year round- doesn't come planned.

Borahae! 💜💜💜

PurpleQueenie <3