A collaboration of crossover short stories from one creator into another creator's universe. Make sure to check out everyone's stories in the links in the author's note.

“Does it still hurt?” Taeyong asked softly, gently caressing Daehyun’s cheek.

Daehyun nodded, pressing his fingers to his temple. “Yes. This headache is not going away.”

Taeyong’s face fell, and he pressed his lips into a thin line. “Oh,” he muttered, his gaze taking him far away. Taking his hand, Daehyun kissed his fingers.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to die this early again,” he said. Taeyong blinked, and he could practically hear his heart skip a beat before reflecting on his face with a sombre smile.

“I’ll bring some food. You didn’t eat much for breakfast,” Taeyong mused, pressing an innocent kiss upon Daehyun’s lips before leaving the parlour, the door barely clicking behind him.

Daehyun sighed and leaned against the back, closing his eyes, with no headache to block his thoughts.

Taeyong coddled him and cared for him the more Daehyun feigned illness. Daehyun was surprisingly good at it, even using his cane again. The more Taeyong let his guard down, the better it was for him.

Seunghyeon’s and Myungsuk’s words were loud and clear in his mind. He needed answers.

Answers he knew were only outside.

But every time he looked at the shed, his stomach would twist, and his body went icy cold. Even for a few minutes, he’d feel sick to his stomach and dizzy. While he tried to build resistance, he knew eventually he’d have to suck it up and go and see once and for all what was locked inside.

If only he didn’t have another issue.

The door creaked open, and Daehyun sat up as Taeyong carried a tray in. He set it down on the table next to Daehyun soundlessly. He poured tea into a small cup, the steam slowly rising before disappearing. “I know you don’t like tea. But it’s chamomile.”

Daehyun frowned as he took the cup. “I don’t know how much flowers will help.”

Laughing, Taeyong fondly shook his head and leaned down to press a kiss into Daehyun’s hair. “Don’t be like that,” he said, pouring himself a cup. “The flowers work hard to keep us healthy,” he said and sat on the loveseat next to Daehyun, taking a sip, his long eyelashes fluttering closed. “After this, I’ll be in my office. Just for an hour or so. Is that okay?”

Daehyun nodded as he took a sip of his tea. Bitter. “What about your actual office? Don’t they miss you?”

“Oh, they’re fine,” Taeyong insisted and rested his head on his shoulder. “I’ve got it under control.”

“Yes, you do,” Daehyun hummed and turned away, staring at the golden grills on the window. Taeyong hadn’t left his side since the incident, and each moment compounded, suffocating him more and more.

Taeyong laid next to him, his bare shoulder peeking out from under the covers that slowly rose and fell with each breath. He slept so contently despite the thundering outside. The storm slamming against the window, shaking it to the point it may shatter.

What would Daehyun do if it did? The million tiny pieces scattered around the floor. Would he take one and hold it to Taeyong’s throat and ask for answers? Would he wound him in the same place his fingers did?

Daehyun trailed Taeyong’s hair back with his eyes. Not a single mark insight.

He laid back and sighed, running his hand over his face. Bruising him was bad enough, but permanently scarring him? His heart ached. He didn’t want to hurt him. He only wanted answers.

“Hyung,” Myungsuk’s mousy voice piped up.

Daehyun snapped up, staring at Myungsuk and Seunghyeon, standing at the end of the bed. He whipped back to Taeyong, holding his breath. But when Taeyong didn’t move, he relaxed. “What are you two doing in here?” he hissed in a low whisper.

“Answers,” Myungsuk said and took Seunghyeon’s hand. “Don’t you want answers?”

“I can’t right now,” he said, slowly sitting up. “Taeyong’s still here.”

“You know better than all of us that he’s not going to leave any time soon,” Seunghyeon whispered. He raised his eyebrow, and Daehyun gritted his teeth.

With his eyes on Taeyong, he carefully slid out of bed, slipping his clothes back on as slowly as possible. His heart pounded in his chest, loud enough he was afraid it’d wake him.

Daehyun closed the bedroom door, muffling the click with his hand. Once in the hall, Daehyun turned in their direction, not a single light in sight. “Are you two sure you want to come with me?”

“Yeah, we want to know too,” Seunghyeon said, taking Myungsuk’s hand and leading them through the corridor.

Daehyun shook the door of the gun room, and with some resistance, it opened. He crept into the room, straight to the other door, the heavy rain blocking the view.

He heard a click behind him, and his heart jumped. He whipped around and glared at Seunghyeon as he loaded the handgun. “What are you doing?” he hissed.

Seunghyeon shrugged. “We might need it.”

“Against who?”

The two paused, and the hair on Daehyun’s skin stood. He turned away, not wanting to hear the answer.

Daehyun pushed the door open, the storm snapping it open, crashing it into the wall, violently shaking as the storm battered it.

“Come on,” he called out and fought away the wind to shut the door before it tore off its hinges, the rain piercing his skin in razor-sharp pallets.

He pressed his hand against the door, taking one slow breath before turning around.

Like a rotting casket, the shed stood, its dark void ringing in Daehyun’s ears.

No. He had to check. Whatever it was, it called for Daehyun to know, the ocean sweeping him closer, his legs carried by the current, the salty water soaking into his skin.

Daehyun stared at the door, the rickety door bound by a metal chain and lock. “Fuck,” he breathed out. The ringing grew louder, and Daehyun violently shook the door, growling under his breath.

“Hyung!” Myungsuk called out from around the corner. Daehyun hurried over and there, one of the wood planks was crooked. An entrance. Grabbing the edge of the plank, it gave in with little effort and fell back without a sound.

Squeezing inside, Daehyun coughed, slapping his hand over his mouth and nose. The wind shook the creaking shed, mould spores emitting everywhere. Groaning, Daehyun blinked, adjusting to the minimal light streaming from the cracks in the roof; he made out a large, dark mound taking up most of the shed.

Daehyun made his way around it, reaching his free hand out, dragging it over the vinyl.

“What is it?” Seunghyeon asked, the two boys stuck to his side.

“It’s a tarp,” he said with furrowed brows. He made his way around and curled his fingers into it, and with one steady pull, it flew off.

Daehyun shielded his eyes from the dust, waiting a few moments for it to settle before looking up, his body going cold.

In front of him was a car with the entire front end crushed.

Daehyun stared, his trembling hand reaching out to touch the metal, rippled like an empty can.

Seunghyeon tugged the driver’s door, and it fell open, desperately hanging on by a few wires. The boys looked at him and stumbled back as Daehyun stepped around.

“What the hell happened here,” he whispered, running his hand over the deflated airbag. There was a gigantic crack in the windshield in front of the driver’s seat. He leaned in close and realized the black substance trapped in its seams was blood.

“You tried to leave once,” Myungsuk said, breaking the silence.

“What?” Daehyun asked, staring at him over his shoulder. But Myungsuk merely nodded and tilted his chin to the car, and his stomach dropped.

On its own, Daehyun’s body stepped in, pinpricks shooting through him when he settled into the driver’s seat, his hands shaking as he gripped the steering wheel.

“Get the fuck away from me!”

“Daehyun, please! You can’t leave!”

“You think you can stop me? You’re psychotic! I don’t know what you spiked me with to get me here but there’s no way in hell you can get me to stay!”

Daehyun slammed the car door behind him, revved the engine and stepped on the gas. He remembered seeing Taeyong yelling and crying in the rearview mirror. He gripped the wheel harder and pressed his foot down. He didn’t even reach the gate; it was only a few feet away before he slammed into thin air.

Daehyun froze in his seat, cold sweats, his mind raced, his stomach lurching, his lungs filled with water, suffocating him.

“What are you doing?”

Daehyun’s body sprung out of the car, shielding the light pointed to his face, one hand grabbing the car, the world around him. Taeyong stood there; jaw slacked and wide-eyed.

“Daehyun,” he called out with a whimper and Daehyun couldn’t help but stare. Why did Taeyong sound so desperate? Why were his eyes teary when he was the puppet master, orchestrating this whole thing.

His vision went red, and Daehyun gritted his teeth, holding up the gun in his hand.

Taeyong shrieked, his flashlight and umbrella crashing to the floor. “Don’t!”

“What the hell is all this,” Daehyun growled, hands shaking with the rest of his body. “Did you kidnap me?”

“Please, put the gun down,” Taeyong whimpered.

“Answer me!”

Taeyong gulped. “I-I… You said you didn’t— they were going to take you to an institution. You didn’t want to go. And— and I thought you. I brought you here instead.”

Daehyun tightened his grip, and Taeyong flinched. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“There’s no case,” Taeyong said. “You’ve already lost.”

“You’re lying!” Daehyun growled. “Just admit you’re insane! You don’t even acknowledge your own brothers!”

“What brothers!”

“They’re right here!” He yelled, pointing at Seunghyeon and Myungsuk, trembling in the corner.

“There’s no one there!” Taeyong shrieked.

Daehyun’s body went cold, needles in his skin, the ringing blowing his eardrums. But they were there. He was looking at them, and they were looking back. Why weren’t they saying anything? Why weren’t they defending themselves?

“Please, Daehyun,” Taeyong whispered and took a step forward.

Snapping back, Daehyun gripped the gun. “Don’t move.”

Taeyong gulped and slowly nodded.

Daehyun growled, shaking his head. “You still kidnapped me,” he snarled.

“I know—” Taeyong sucked in his breath. “I know, I just didn’t realize— I forgot that you didn’t remember me. I forgot you didn’t know me in this life yet.”

“That’s bullshit—” 

“It’s not!” Taeyong’s lip trembled, and two perfect streams rolled down his face. “We’re soulmates, Daehyun. Ten lives we’ve shared. I’m usually so patient, but I got scared when you said you were going back, that I hurt you. But I didn’t mean to. I love you, Daehyun,” he sobbed.

“You still kidnapped me,” Daehyun repeated, trying to stay focused despite the sobbing.

“What was I supposed to do?” Taeyong wailed. “You’re going to be locked up the moment you step out there!”

“Still! This is still a prison.”

“There’s nothing left for you out there!” Taeyong pressed his hand against his chest. “Call this a prison too, whatever. But here I’ll do whatever you want here. I’ll make this place perfect for you. It’s here or there. But remember, you’re not a free man anymore.”

Daehyun didn’t speak, the words drowning in the ocean, spinning in the riptide. That prison or this one. Here or there. Daehyun placed his finger against the trigger.

Taeyong screamed. “Don’t hurt me!”

His chest tore open, the paralyzing weight of the water broke out. “What,” he breathed out.

“Don’t hurt me,” he whimpered, the water in his eyes reflecting the light, like glass, staring at him with a million words, all saying the same thing.

Daehyun lowered his hands and stepped closer. Close enough until he wrapped his arms around Taeyong’s body, the other tensed before release, falling against him.

“I’m sorry,” Daehyun breathed out. “I’m sorry.”

Taeyong shook his head and reached up, brushing his fingers through Daehyun’s hair. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “Drop the gun, and we’ll go inside. It’s okay.”

With no strength left, Daehyun dropped the gun, his trembling finger grabbing onto Taeyong, pressing his face into his shoulder.

“It’s all going to be okay,” Taeyong whispered into his ear. “I’ve got you.”

Nodding, Daehyun lifted his head. In the rain, a few feet away, hand in hand, Seunghyeon and Myungsuk watched him, filling Daehyun with dark, icy dread.