*translation for this chapter will be at the end*

"Sehun?" Baekhyun spoke, holding at the boy's shoulders. He could feel him shaking under his palms, hearing his hyperventilation of quick quick breaths. "Sehun look at me"
He was having a panic attack, Baekhyun knew from when his sister would have them every other day after he had left, only staring from her window and watching her suffering on her own. He wanted to walk in and help her, yet he stayed behind the glass.
"Just breathe, okay? In and out, slow." He calmly instructed, feeling his younger gradually come back to him, the shaking steadying and the breathing slowing down. He had been like this for a few minutes, lost somewhere. Sehun looked up to Baekhyun, his tearful eyes trying to focus on his concerned facial features, watching as a smile of relief creeped across Baekhyun's lips.
"He's okay." He said, answering a question that Sehun didn't hear. He felt frightened, though he was out of the trance that he was suffocated in, he could still see the terrifying images that took him hostage.
"Are you alright, Sehun?" He quickly glanced to where the question had come from, knowing it was Chanyeol but scared he hadn't transformed back to his original state. His eyes were back to being hazel black and his skin returned to its normal pale brown. He nodded to him, his heart steady now he knew that Chanyeol was now Chanyeol, and not the sick, green, zombie that was sat in his body.
"I don't want you going out like this Sehun, Chanyeol please take his place." Kyungsoo spoke from the driver's seat. Most of the boys were staring at Sehun as they drove down the empty roads, oblivious to the paths they were passing. D.O, however, focused only on driving, getting the group there was all that he wanted. Sehun felt tough at his throat, like he was beginning to believe what Baekhyun had warned him about: that Kyungsoo didn't care at all.
"It's okay, I'm fine." Sehun said, heightening himself so he could look over at the man he was speaking to, elongating his neck to look over the faces that watched him. "I want to do it, please"
"Sehun, I don't know if you'll be able to, not after what just happened." Kyungsoo argued calmly, almost as if he was begging his youngest to just do what he said, for his safety and theirs.
"Let him go Kyungsoo, he'll be worse here." Chanyeol remarked, not facing his opponent. There was a tone in his voice, the sharp hiss of annoyance. D.O felt his heart jitter again, just like it had when he was tested by Baekhyun earlier that day. He closed his eyes for a second, tired of all the ordering from those at a lower status. He glanced over to Suho, watching him give a subtle nod of agreement.
"Okay, Sehun you can stay on the mission, just make sure you tell me if you think it's going to happen again." He gave in.

They had arrived outside the police office just before three o'clock, Kyungsoo pulling up into an avenue near the back of the station. A surprising amount of nervousness flooded the van, the silence after the engine giving them that extra boost of spine tingling, heart racing suspense. The silence that didn't commonly occur before a situation like this.
"We're going to get ready in here, so don't get out until I say." Kyungsoo said lowly, unbuckling his seat belt to turn at his group. He froze for a moment, unsure of what member he should look at, what part of the plan he should address. He felt stuck. Immobile.
"Boss, it's almost three." Suho slipped subtly, as a way to get him sparked again.
"Yes. Lay, go in now, you have an appointment with Kai booked under the name of Elliott Lang. Once it's over, come back to the van to get equipped." Lay was instructed, unbuckling his seat belt and opening the door to his left, heaving the heavy metal across its slides. He hopped off the seat and onto the tarmac gravel that supported the road, pulling at his red bomer jacket when the rough wind snatched the sides away from his white T-shirt. He gave a last glance at his group, all of which were watching him leave, before taking sturdy steps towards the station. He had never been inside a police station before, but recognised the basic layout from when he'd watch police documentaries about gang violence with his brother. There was a section of desks in which employers were seated inside, each small square guarded by, what Lay presumed was, bulletproof glass. The basic mixes of pale browns and dark oak was settling, block colours and long stripes. There was a couple dozen citizens waiting around the lobby, mostly sat in Tawney leather seats or leant against the tall tinted windows that were double Lay's height. It was quiet and still. Small chatter from the office boxes and gentle tapping from passing guests was all that Yixing could hear. He began to hitch forward, each step of his black vans creating echoes that seemed louder than the noise they were making. Every elongated step, every push of his toe and snap at his heel felt like he had been walking for miles and his knees only now were giving in.
"How can I help you, sir?" A woman asked who was sat inside one of the cubes he had approached. Her dark, umber skin casted back the apricot light coming from the windows, her cheeks golden. Her head of hair bounced from her scalp like it was repelling from her, coils and coils of thick black strands pushing out of her head. Her glossy, hickory eyes shone like bokeh, taking in every light source the lobby had to offer them.
"I'm here to visit a prisoner, I've booked under the name of Elliott." Lay hesitated, unsure how to approach his character of Elliott. He imagined him to be the nervous kind, the type of man who would live alone under a pair of glasses.
"If you could go through the corridor to your left, there should be an officer by the waiting room who will assist you." She said clearly, Yixing watching her reach out of her chair to point at the very corridor she spoke about. Lay nodded gratitude, smiling at the lady as he left her cube. He walked down the lobby and around the corner, admiring none of the decor or paintings that the walls had to offer. He had his eyes on what he came here to do: get Kai out of prison.
"Excuse me sir, how can I help you?" A voice asked from behind him. Yixing felt as if he should freeze and put his hands in the air, but instead he turned over his shoulder to the man.
"I'm here for visiting, I was told to come down here." Lay answered in his Elliott voice. The officer was much taller than him and grew more as his figure approached.
"Visiting room is on your right, there's only a few minutes wait."
Lay left the officer's company and wandered through the door. As he entered, he could see the dozen tables set out around the room, each accommodated with three meagre chairs. Multiple seats were taken and most of the tables had visitors awaiting their prisoners, every person sat in the room making no sound at all. It was like they were all embarrassed about being there, like visiting the person they loved meant they must be ashamed. Lay didn't feel embarrassed or frightened, he felt uneasy.
As he strode to an empty table, he gazed at the bare and dusk walls cubed around him, each and every piece on concrete cemented with thick grey paint, and simply nothing else. No markings in the blocks, no windows letting in natural light and only two exits both guarded by officers. As he reached a free table a noise sounded in front of him, the beep of the steel door unlocking to allow policemen to bring in their convicts like they were presenting them as the best in their batch. Lay didn't seat himself, but instead gazed eagerly as prisoner after prisoner entered the room to embrace their loyal visitors. He awaited Kai, counting every man who was dressed in orange overalls as they walked out the door.
"Kai?" The words stuck in his throat and he choked on them. He felt his blood run cold and curdle in his veins as the stranger approached him. A man a little less than 6 feet tall was stumbling before Yixing, with his hands captive at his waist and his head slung low. Yet, before his neck dropped, Lay could see every maroon bruise and his blooded face. Scratches and scars, scabs and slices, all slithered upon his skin; tan gone red.
"Will." Stated the battered man in the voice of Kai. He pulled a seat, beside Lay out with his foot wedging his heel to drag the chair so it stood in front of him. "그게 내가 가는 거야." That's what I go by.
"What happened to you?" He asked, his throat making his words come out as whisper, eyeing every mark on Kai's face like he was replaying the event in his mind: just imagining his younger so weak and vulnerable to a beast sent shivers down his neck. Jongin slowly looked up to Yixing, his eyes shy and gradual.
"You've got to get me out of here," he begged, "I can't..."
Lay could see the rest of his words in his eyes. He was breaking and for Yixing to see such a strong and brave young boy quiver and quake in front of him, even began to make him feel frightened. Tears clung onto his eye's lashes, but no water ran down his cheeks, like he was holding back so they didn't sting his fresh cuts. A wisp of cotton honey hair touched his forehead, his neck. He had said just a few days ago that he needed a haircut, but he had left it too late now.
"It's okay. We have a plan." Lay reassured, placing his hand on Kai's thigh, on the tiger nylon that separated their skin. He could feel Kai's warm body through the thin fabric, sensing no further clothing under the material. It made him wonder if Kai had changed himself or if an officer had forced the foreign clothing onto his body. It made him muse on whether he was wearing anything at all under the overall, if the police had taken away every source of clothing he had worn when he entered the building and thrown it to be locked up just like him. Chained and bolted to be stored away forever, never see the daylight again. Yixing's thoughts went to what Kai's first scenes of prison would've been like: how strongly he was question, how long was his sentence. If the man that he had pointed his gun at had also been arrested for making Kai broken and got the same time in prison as he would. Lay felt a more prominent sense of heat, when Kai's fingers reached to touch at his knuckles, looking down to see no marks on his warm beige hands. There was a flush of reality that suddenly hit him, that he could see Kai did not fight back. It almost made him cry.
" 당신은 만날 수 있습니다 시우민 및 첸 곧. 그들은 경찰에서 당신을 데려 갈 것입니다." Lay whispered lightly; his head bowed at Kai to guard his mouth from the officers who were prowling around the table. "그들은 위장하고 세포에서 멀리 당신을 내보낼 것입니다." He continued, speaking quick Korean of the plan Kyungsoo had run them through earlier that day. His eyes scanned the room, marking where each guard stood and if their own eyes seemed to gaze upon them. Kai, however, seemed attached to him, like his eyes were stuck to Yixing. He missed seeing someone like him, he had missed being around someone that he didn't feel immediately threatened by or scared of a future violent encounter. But as he sat, eased by Lay, with his fingertips at his knuckles and his eyes locked on his nutmeg skin, he felt home; a weird feeling for a man who had never had such a place. 
"상황이 잘못되면, 우리 모두는 총을 가지고있다." He finished with a smirk.
"Excuse we sir, English please." An officer announced from behind Yixing, as he turned a corpulent man stood heighted above him. Though his thick skin stretched at his uniform, his stature was abnormally tall and reach much further than both Jongin and Lay.
"I'm so sorry, sir," Lay announced, feeling the sudden need to push up a pair of spectacles that weren't even at the tip of his nose. "Apologies."
The officer ambled away from them, drifting in such a way that seemed unfit for a man of his kind: so plump he was soon to burst.
"And this will work?" Kai asked, barely looking at the guard that Yixing was staring at. He was too focused on the information given to him to pay attention to any officer who asked them a simple question.
"Boss has got it covered." Lay replied in a gracious whisper, his leg bouncing up and down, up and down. He still had his hand at Kai's thigh, Kai's fingers upon his warm and tender bone. He felt Jongin's palm get clammy with nerves, sensing his fear already trembling inside of him. He knew he got like this; it was the waiting that made him panic. But the second he was to see Xiumin and Chen, hear bursts of bullets through concrete, he knew that the adrenaline inside of him would kick-start his machine and get his blood pumping. But for now, Yixing knew that Kai would simply have to be patient. He glanced at him, every mark on his face, each cut and punch and kick that was given to him. It almost made him gag.
"그리고 일단 당신이 밖으로, 우리는 당신에게이 작업을 수행 한 사람을 죽일 거야." He gritted through his teeth, stamping on the words like he was killing them right this second. He watched as Jongin's face faded grey, the muscles in his cheeks became sluggish and raw. Even the hand that Yixing shared the warmth of became slack.
"Hyung. I can't do this anymore." Kai spoke gently, previously pondering eyes looking up at Yixing like he was to be punished for saying such things. Like he was awaiting a pinch at the ears or a hit of the shoulder, the same things his mother would do when he got himself into trouble at a younger age.
"It's okay. I promise, at the cost of my own life, I will get you out of here." Spoke Yixing softly, the words trickling off his tongue like water between the rocks of a stream, so light that it was hardly dampening the stones at all.
"Not just that, but the group..." Jongin stuttered. He took away his hand from Lay to hold his own in between his legs, pulling and pushing at his skin and tangling bone into bone.
"You want to quit?" Lay uttered, less of a question but more of a reassurance even though he understood what Kai was saying. He could feel his chest sink; losing Jongin right in front of him felt like a stab to the chest.
"I don't think I can continue any longer. It's not what I want to do with my life." Kai explained anxiously, slow words untangling themselves from his mouth, knot after knot coming lose.
"I want to open a school and teach kids how to dance." Kai mused, "I don't want to be a killer anymore."
Lay felt as if he had witnessed the mountains kiss at high heavens, the pinch of rock just at a touch with the clouds. He found Kai's dream vacating and mobile, like the movement of a dancer when listening to Enzalla.
"Will boss let me go?" Kai faltered quietly, Lay feeling his simmer of unease just through the lack of eye contact and the persistent picking and peeling that Kai demonstrated with his hands.
"Possibly." Yixing answered truthfully, not willing to lie to an open man.
"I just don't want to be a monster for the rest of my life. Sehun said that he'd join me," Kai sparked at the mention of his brother, highs and lows shifting perpetually. "he said that we'd get a house by the coast and buy a dog. He said that we could teach dance together."
"Did he?" Lay muttered just above his breath. His question was more of a way to get Kai to continue talking just to pass time, wanting him to distract him before horrors engulfed his vision.
"Yeah. I also said I'd teach him how to write." Jongin bounced with his back matchstick, almost squealing with pride.
"To write?" Lay questioned, granted with the only eye contact Kai had given him since walking into the room.
"You didn't know?" Kai responded. "Sehun never learnt how to write in English, he only knows Korean. So, I told him that when we leave, I would teach him."
Lay drowned himself in memories to dig for one that showed Sehun writing in the neat English alphabet, but he saw nothing but the circles and lines of Hangul. He was confused as to why he didn't know, for the two of them were close due to the trust they put in one another to gain money for their poker addictions. Yet he couldn't think of a moment where Sehun had spoken to him without an act; stripped back everything and spoke with honesty. It was like the poker faces they pulled to their opposition were the only side they shew.
"He's also never been to the beach or owned a pet." Kai added, as a pinpoint on their dream.
"Missed alot, hasn't he?" Lay murmured.
"He left home at 15 to be with his gang." Kai began, Yixing studying him and his words as he spoke. "He wasn't good in school, so his parents saw him as having no potential. They treated him horribly, you know. Made him like their house slave. Living on the streets with a group of ex-convicts in his eyes was better than the house he was supposed to call home."
Lay's eyes still hovered at Kai, doing nothing as he was stunned to silence with what Jongin had told him. He found it preposterous that Sehun was not enough for his parents when he was so smart and strategic.
"Is that why he's so held back?" Lay questioned.
"That was his family's fault." Kai chuckled in an obvious tone. "He went home after being kicked out of his gang, turned out that his family removed him completely. No baby pictures, no holiday photos: nothing. They even cleared out his room and made it into a study." Kai exclaimed, his hands going from tan to red as the friction being created at his palms made his fingers hot and burnt. The colour in between his knuckles almost matched his overalls.
"He was so young." Yixing muttered, thinking about what Sehun was like in a gang at fifth teen, dealing drugs to pigeon men and being ordered around by leathers. He looked up at Kai, the second youngest member of their group bound by handcuffs and suffocated in nylon.
"Kai?" Lay uttered to get his attention, Jongin lifting his head to look right at Yixing.
"Yeah?"
"You're going to be okay, you know that, right?" Lay assured, feeling how nervous and scared Kai was even though they shared no contact.
"I trust boss, I trust you. I know you'll get me out of here." He gave with a smile, a smile so empty and so warm.
"We will, I promise."

"Are we going to have enough time to wipe up this blood?" Xiumin asked after locking the changing room that Chen, two limp convict porters and himself were locked inside. The man of which Jongdae had suffocated was bleeding from his lower back where Chen had pushed his knife to harshly as they walked the men into the very room they would soon die in. Tall blue lockers stacked themselves around the walls, a long-elongated mirror attached to the door. A pile of towels was neatly stacked on top of a case and many coats were hanging from black railing. A growing pool was gathering by the lanky blonde as his clothes were soon getting red.
"I'm sure we will, just get them out of the uniforms quickly." Jongdae insisted, feeling rushed by their important roles. He began unbuttoning his porter's baby blue polyester shirt, taking each white button from its clasp to reveal unharmed cream skin. Xiumin joined him at his side to do the same with the dead Indian man that was laying flamboyantly across the tiles.
Soon enough the clothes were off the two men, after the struggle of shimmying down awkward jeans and untying oddly joined laces. Jongdae stripped off his jumper and exchanged it with the slightly bloody shirt he had taken from the nude policeman below him, taking a note to ensure he tucked in the back to hide the blood. Xiumin was doing the same behind him except he came to a halt once he took away his black tee.
"We can't forget to..." Chen started but did not finish as he turned to his elder. He stared as Minseok frowned at the great number of scars across his body, each like a tiger had clawed at his skin and left pigmented slices on his