Chapter Text
Chanyeol heard his bedroom door knob rattle and quickly scrambled to clean up his mess of books and posters that littered the floor. He’d gone through a pretty severe growth spurt recently, and wasn’t yet used to having all the added length on his limbs. So, when he’d tried to climb up from the floor back onto his bed, adorned in his cloak made from bed comforter- things got tangled and he squawked as he fell backwards onto the floor. Chanyeol stared up at the ceiling, stunned. Kris walked into view, his upside down head blocking the rest of Chanyeol’s sight. Chan tilted his head to the side and smiled sheepishly.
“Oh, hey, dad... Didn’t hear you come in.”
Kris regarded him with an amused expression and an arched eyebrow.
“Uh-huh, sure.”
“Did you need something?”
“Well,” Kris said, offering his hands to help pull Chanyeol to his feet. “I would like to know why my clever kid is up at almost five in the morning on a school night.”
Chanyeol snorted. “I don’t go to school.”
A look passed over Kris’ face, too quickly and foreign looking for Chanyeol to know what it meant.
“Yeah, well... The guys and I have been talking, and we think you should enroll, this quarter.”
Chan gaped up at his father, too shocked to remember how to use words. He recovered quickly enough- kind of. “What- how- who...i don’t need school!”
Kris sighed heavily, moving to sit on the bed. Chanyeol hesitated for a few moments before moving to sit beside him.
“I, for one, think you would have a lot of fun at school.” Kris said, defending himself. Chanyeol always got filled with a wild satisfaction knowing that his parents were two of the toughest guys in all of Gotham city but still reduced to grasping blindly at straws when it came to pleasing him. “You love learning about new things, you’re super smart. With a little bit of education- you could rule the whole world.”
Chanyeol considered his words for a moment before scrunching up his nose. “Nah, I’m already edumacated. Nini and Baek buy me books all the time and Sehun steals cool books for me to write on and Minseok taught me to draw!”
“And i’m sure that no matter how many times i tell them to stop,” The last half of his sentence was barely audible through his clenched teeth. “They will continue to do that. But you could make friends with kids your own age. Do things like go on field trips and learn more about the subjects you love!”
Chanyeol stared at his dad, biting his lip. Kris attempted to put on his serious face, but he was clearly stressing about Chan’s reaction because he just ended up looking constipated.
“This is serious to you?” Chanyeol said after a heavy pause.
Kris nodded his head. “All of us know that you are already capable of greatness, kid. But if you go to school- they’ll provide you the tools. It’ll make it that much easier for you to achieve your goals.”
Chanyeol didn’t know if he should tell him about his complete lack of goals right now. Maybe his first one would be to figure out why Sehun hadn’t come to take him out for ice cream in a long time and no one would answer him when he brought it up.
“So what you’re saying is,” Chanyeol said. “It’s important to everyone here that I go to school?”
Kris smiled, ruffling Chanyeol’s hair. “No, I’m saying that you’re important to us. And we want you to be successful no matter what.”
“Okay. Sign me up.” Chanyeol said.
He’d always known he was important to his family. But hearing his dad say it reminded him of when he had another family. Of when he hadn’t been important at all. He remembered his last few days in that house and decided that his goal from now on would be to protect his family no matter what.
Chanyeol may have never gone to school but he wasn’t stupid. He saw the various news reports. Some of them had pictures of Nini and Baek; others were just vague descriptions that matched up really close to Jongdae and Kyungsoo. He knew Gotham thought his family was the bad guys. But his uncles, even being as scary as they were sometimes, would never treat him like his real parents had. So how on earth could they possibly be bad? If his family killed someone, that person probably deserved it.
Just like his father and step mom had it coming.
*****
3 years ago~
*****
“AAAAAGHHH!!!”
Chanyeol grins when he hears the scream of horror from upstairs. He listens to the rapid clacking of heels coming down the large spiral staircase, so fast and so quick it sounds like they might break.
“You little worthless punk!” comes the feminine voice from behind him and Chanyeol turns around and tries to put on a straight face to mask his amusement. The woman in front of him is covered head to toe in purple paint Chanyeol found in the basement. He was pretty sure it was leftover from the paint they’d used for his new step-mom’s gym.
It’d taken him a little less than an hour to place the bucket right over her bedroom doorway and he’d snickered to himself before padding downstairs and turning on the TV like he’d been watching it all along when he was just waiting for the time that his horrid step-mother would step outside her bedroom door, draped in her silk nightclothes and expensive jewelry his father bought her.
“You...you!” she growled pointing a well-manicured finger at the little eight-year-old boy.
Chanyeol looked at her in mock confusion. “Me?”
“Don't play dumb!” she shouted and Chanyeol noticed her walking towards him; dripping paint as she stepped. “I know you're behind this nonsense. You've been the biggest pain in my ass since I got with your father. First the dog food in my shoes, tearing the leather off my pocketbook, and nearly killing me with that cinnamon sugar in my tea; that’s only scratching the surface.”
Chanyeol furrowed his eyebrows and scowled. “What are you gonna do? Beat me? That didn’t work out so well for you last time, remember? We wouldn’t want the school nurse to start asking questions again.” His tone was playful, but he was hiding the fear lurking beneath.
Wiping the paint from her shoulders and arms, the woman shakes her head. “Worse.”
She lunges toward Chanyeol and grabs him by the arm, and drags him off the sofa--flinging purple paint onto the white couch as Chanyeol struggles against her. He tries to scratch and bite at her wrists but it's all in vain as she drags him up the staircase and into his room.
“Get offa me!! Lemme go!” Chanyeol screeches as her nails dig painfully into his shoulder sending pinpricks down his arm.
Smack!
He’s stunned into silence when her hand comes into contact with his cheek. His face stings painfully, but he’s not sure if he’s bleeding or not.
“Little shit,” she grates forcing one of Chanyeol’s long socks in his mouth and knotting it behind his head and doing the same to his bony wrists and ankles.
It’s too late when Chanyeol finally regains his thoughts and he’s already being tossed into his cramped closet, landing painfully on his shoes and boxes.
He whips his head to the woman in the doorway and lets out all the muffled curse words he knows and struggles against his makeshift restraints.
“I’ll be sure to tell your father that you ran away,” she says, smiling evilly and Chanyeol begins to panic, fear spreading through his body and he can only let out a pathetic whimper as the door slams shut leaving him in darkness save for the peeps of light through the shutters of his closet door.
He squirms and fidgets, desperately trying to rid himself of the binds and ultimately starts sobbing when he realizes he’s stuck. Stuck in his closet with a stinging cheek, wet eyes, and a shoebox digging uncomfortably into his spine.
He knows that his father won't give a damn about his disappearance even if she tells him her made up story and Chanyeol feels sadness begin to well up inside of him at the thought of his father just going on with his life despite his only son going missing.
Would anyone wonder about him?
He eventually tires himself out and with tear tracks drying on his face and numbing arms, Chanyeol falls asleep.
-
1 week later
-
Chanyeol startles awake to the sounds of gunshots and terrified screaming.
He’s too weak to sit up, but his heart’s beating at a million miles per second and he hears loud shouting and then silence...
He stays completely still, in his almost dry waste and starts breathing heavily when he hears footsteps come near his room. It’s quiet until his bedroom door opens and Chanyeol can see legs pass by from the cracks in the closet. The stranger is checking the room and even underneath his bed.
“Nobody in this room,” the person--a man--says. He pauses for a minute before checking out of the window. “Looks like a kid slept here, though. Didn't know Park had a future heir.”
His tone is a sneer.
Chanyeol watches as the long legs turn around and face towards where the closet is. A whimper catches in his throat, too dry from disuse and dehydration; it turns into a small cough. Chanyeol realizes his mistake and he wants to slap himself. The man notices the noise and starts stepping closer to the door and Chanyeol’s heart feels like it might stop.
He’s nearly blinded with light as the door swings open and Chanyeol curls in on himself waiting for his inevitable death. But, it doesn't come. He peeks open one eye to see the man looking surprised and lowering his weapon.
“Holy shit” he breathes, and Chanyeol notices a small blinking earpiece in his ear. “They locked their kid in a closet.”
The man holds his hand out to him and Chanyeol seizes up and averts his eyes. He hears the other swear softly and he presses his finger against the device in his ear.
“I can't kill him, Luhan” the stranger snaps into his earpiece. “Hell, he’s practically already dead as it is..”
He paces in the doorway, arguing with whomever and Chanyeol watches him with wide eyes. He zones out after a while, hearing the distant noise of the man lose his patience and lean his head back against the cold wall.
“Hey.”
Chanyeol snaps his head to the man, immediately getting dizzy as he tries to focus his eyes and blink away the blur.
The man looks around before turning back to him. “I can get you outta here. Do you want my help?”
Chanyeol eyes him warily, hearing shouts from the device in the man’s ear. He didn't want to die in his closet, with wet underwear and starvation looming.
“C’mon kid I need an answer before your father's backup comes. And I don't really wanna have to risk you ratting me out,” the man rushes, holding his hand out. “Trust me.”
Chanyeol pauses before ultimately nodding solemnly, and letting the man pick him up like he doesn't weigh a thing. He knows he must stink, as the man makes a face and scrunches up his nose.
He gets carried down the stairs, eyes being shielded away from what could be the grisly sight of dead bodies and blood. Chanyeol doesn't need to see -- can smell the stench of blood and bitterly hopes that one of the many bodies is his wicked stepmother. It’s probably taboo to wish death on family, but Chanyeol feels almost no remorse in his heart for thinking so.
A shiver racks through his body and he’s not sure if it's from the man holding him gruffly giving orders to his other comrades or the chilly air when they hurry outside in the fall evening. He’s shuffled into a large black van and the man’s hand falls from his face, making him squint when his eyes don't adjust to the light inside.
“Kris, are you fucking nuts?!” someone screeches as soon as the man--Kris--sits down with Chanyeol in his lap. Chanyeol flinches at the volume of the person’s voice.
“Luhan, can you shut your trap?” Kris mumbles. Chanyeol curiously peeks around the van and jerks forward when they begin moving.
“Shut my trap?” Luhan gapes. “You literally kidnapped our enemies’ son! Even though we all told you not to, but you didn't listen! We’re so fucked -- Minseok is gonna have our heads on a silver platter and serve them as gourmet to his casino guests,” the man bemoans.
Kris pays him no mind, tugging and pulling at the tight knot of socks holding Chanyeol’s limbs together and huffing triumphantly when he’s able to rip the fabric off with a satisfying sound.
“Where’s Jongdae?” Luhan asks, to a quietly laughing Tao, tapping away on his laptop. He takes off his jacket and wraps it around Chanyeol who looks close to passing out in his grip.
“Doing one more check around the house with Squad B and they’ll head out,” Tao answers easily. He stares at the boy in Kris’ arms but doesn't say anything except hum and give directions to the driver.
Kris tunes out Luhan’s rambling about how trigger happy Jongdae is and how Kyungsoo will lecture his ear off later, instead he takes to staring intently at a sleeping Chanyeol with a lot of questions and so little answers.
“This is the last time i’m doing a group job with you assholes.” Luhan says, mostly to himself. He begins muttering as he pulls the van out of the driveway and seamlessly into Gotham city traffic. “Kidnapping little stinky kids..not even letting me have some fun. Why couldn’t Sehun be the getaway driver?”
-
There’s a dining room in their large home which is rarely ever used by all 11 of them. Everyone takes food to the parlor or to their own rooms to eat and the room has been sitting around catching dust and making home to spiders in the corners of the walls.
However, on this particular night, everyone’s already gathered in -- save for Kyungsoo cooking in the kitchen -- looking at the frail little boy at the head of the table. There's no talking or even a whisper and Chanyeol feels uneasy with the heavy tension in the air. He doesn't look at anyone’s face -- doesn't wanna see what emotions they have towards him.
As soon as he was taken to this place, Kris had begun all but shoving water down his throat. Even now, his table was set with more bottles of water.
He’s been bathed and given some big, but comfortable clothing by Kris’ hands, not really trusting anyone else at the moment. They’ve taken the time to give him some space -- let him be alone. Kris stands guard outside his door to keep out a nosy Baekhyun and Jongin who “Just wanna talk to him! We swear!”, but Kris doesn't believe them for a minute.
Chanyeol’s head snaps up to a plate clattering in front of him on the polished wood table and he thanks Kyungsoo gently who just gives him an unreadable look in return.
“Will you all stop looking at the boy like that! He’s too nervous to even eat,” Junmyeon scolds the men at the table, casting a warm smile to Chanyeol when easy chatter starts almost instantly.
Junmyeon had been the second person Chanyeol had spoken to. He’d peeped into the room the child was resting in and skirted around the topic of his father and instead introduced himself claiming that dinner was ready. He gave off a nice aura that Chanyeol liked immediately but still kept his distance to himself.
At the table, Chanyeol had barely realized conversation had stopped as he practically vacuumed down the food.
“Is it that good?” asks one man, eyes in mischievous crescents and his mouth curled into a smile. He looks like a cat, Chanyeol thinks. If he had purple and pink stripes and glowing green eyes and talked in riddles, he’d surely be the Cheshire Cat.
“Jongdae,” Junmyeon warns, voice steely. Jongdae just shrugs, eyes still on Chanyeol.
The boy finishes swallowing the rest of his noodles down and nods curtly. “It’s really good,” he admits, voice raspy but soft from lack of use.
He doesn't notice that the conversations have stopped when he speaks and from further down the table he spots Kyungsoo staring intently at him and he immediately averts his gaze back down to his plate.
“Kyungie you're scaring him,” a sarcastic, saccharine voice says and Chanyeol’s head snaps up.
“Baekhyun, I’ll stab you with this butter knife if you call me that again,” Kyungsoo says and Baekhyun visibly flinches when Kyungsoo moves to pick it up.
“Just kidding, just kidding!” Baekhyun nervously laughs out, waving a dismissive hand. He gulps when the other makes a move to get up. “Jongin-ah, save me.”
The sleepy looking one, stops scarfing down his food for a moment and looks between a terrified Baekhyun and a threatening Kyungsoo. The doe-eyed boy--Luhan--from beside Kyungsoo tries coaxing him back in his seat to no avail.
“Uh,” he says inelegantly. “May I have some seconds please, Soo?”
Kyungsoo says nothing, but does gingerly take the empty plate from Jongin’s hands and heads into the kitchen to give him more food. Baekhyun sighs in relief.
“Ah jeez, what’s with all the commotion,” an annoyed and pitched voice says from the staircase.
Junmyeon smiles again but this time it looks strained and a little scary. Chanyeol shrinks in his seat even though it's not directed at him.
“Zitao, Sehun,” he greets them as they take their seats, one of them reluctantly prying himself free of the other’s gangly limbs. Chanyeol fuzzily remembers the computer boy in the van as “Tao”. He’s sure the other one is Sehun.
“You’ve come to join us during dinner this week,” Junmyeon eyes them. “How novel.”
“I was doing something!” Zitao defends himself. “It shouldn't be weird that I’m eating.”
“Eating Sehun don't you mean?” Luhan smirks. Sehun suddenly gets up and mumbles something about noodles, much more awake than when he was a few minutes ago. He stalks to the kitchen and it’s no surprise about the pink on his cheeks.
Zitao stays silent after that, throwing a quick glare Luhan’s way and speedwalks to the kitchen where he and Sehun share hushed words.
“Are we forgetting there’s a child in the room?” Jongin says peering at Chanyeol and smiling gently. Chanyeol tries to smile back but his face doesn't feel like working at the moment. There’s too much going on and so many new people. He feels tired all of a sudden. He wishes Kris were here, but the man had left so quickly before dinner.
“Excuse me,” Chanyeol mumbles to nobody, sliding off his chair and making way to his bedroom. After his 4th step he nearly falls over, eyes going unfocused and body swaying.
“Are you okay?” someone asks and there’s the too loud sound of feet scrambling towards him and he flinches when someone's hand touches his shoulder.
“Don't touch me!” Chanyeol yells, and the room goes quiet. “Don't touch me,” he repeats, voice shaking and swallowing vomit threatening to come up.
He continues his trek to his room, using the cold hallway wall to ground him. There’s whispering and murmurs from behind him and Chanyeol wills himself not to break down on the floor.
He must look pitiful; Kris’ shirt hanging off his shoulder and his skinny frame tumbling to bed. When he gets there, he locks the door and sobs violently into a silk, expensive pillowcase that isn't even his.
-
When he wakes up, it’s morning with the too bright sun shining in his face and someone sitting next to his bed. Rubbing his eyes, Chanyeol sees it’s Kris, in a chair next to his bed and snoring soundly. Sitting up and reaching over, Chanyeol pokes Kris in the stomach and the man wakes up with a wheeze and covers his belly with his hand.
“Sorry,” Chanyeol apologizes with a small smile as Kris blinks a few times to wipe away the remains of sleep. “I didn’t wanna be up by myself.”
“S’fine,” Kris yawns, rubbing a hand down his face. “You were out like a light when I came in here last night. I called your name and patted your back and I didn’t get one reaction out of you.”
Chanyeol makes a face. “I thought I locked the door?”
“I caught Baekhyun prying open the lock,” Kris says tiredly like this is a recurring hobby. It probably is. “He told me you didn’t stay for dinner, though. Wanna talk about it?”
Chanyeol shifts, grabbing the comforter tightly and staring at the pillow instead of Kris.
“I’m afraid,” Chanyeol confesses. “I don’t know why. I’m really scared after what happened.”
Kris leans forward, drawing Chanyeol’s gaze and their eyes meet.
“Listen to me careful, kid.” Kris says, his tone solemn.”You don’t have to be scared ever again. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I promise.”
Kris looks so serious that Chanyeol almost starts to believe him.
*****
Present day~
*****
“Whoa, cool! What is that?”
Luhan turned to greet the small figure in his doorway.
“Heya, kid. What are you doing up?”
Chanyeol stepped further into Luhan’s bedroom. It was minimalistically decorated but full of eye-catching pops of color in the form of mismatched chairs, rugs, and lamps. His massive four poster bed was tucked into a corner and adorned with various, different colored sheer draperies. The concrete floors were covered in an eclectic mix of different rugs and carpet. The room always smelled of sandalwood and acrylic paint. This was Luhan’s happy place, and where he drew most of his inspiration for his artwork.
Right now, Luhan was practicing a new technique he'd seen on YouTube that involved a spatula, and a wet cotton rag. Out of anyone living in the converted warehouse presently, Luhan brought in the least amount of money with his day job. But it was what he enjoyed and all that junk.
“You wanna give it a go?”
Chanyeol bobbed his head excitedly and stepped onto the small footstool beside Luhan’s painting table.
Luhan had spread a bunch of yellows and golds and silvers along with a bunch of glitter onto the canvas and then covered it all with a coating of glossy black. He had just finished agitating the paint with a torch and now Chanyeol got to do the really fun part.
Luhan looked on; feeling pleased as Chan used the damp cloth to wipe away the black in long swirling movements, revealing the glittering metallic colors beneath.
“You’re pretty good, you know that?”
Chanyeol beamed at him, admitting shyly. “I’ve watched you a lot.”
“Well that means we have to put you in a fancy ass private school with 3 art classes a day!”
Chanyeol laughed. “No!”
“Oh, I think so!”
They continued like that, Luhan teasing Chanyeol until he was laughing uncontrollably and Chanyeol denying everything.
A loud piercing scream sounded from one of the rooms down the hall, quickly followed by a loud crashing noise- startling them both.
Luhan could hear the sound of heavy breathing and bare footsteps coming up the hall, toward his room, occasionally punctuated by hoarse shouts.
Moving quickly, Luhan suggested Chanyeol take over for him and listen to some soothing jazz music on his headphones to get his creative juices flowing. Chanyeol was perplexed, but said nothing and as soon as his attention was on the painting, Luhan quietly escaped his room and stepped out into the hall just in time to collide with a terrified looking young man whose hands were bound behind his back. The man fell back, right on his bare ass before wildly whipping his head around, eyes landing on Luhan.
“Please, man! You gotta help me! Some fucking psycho kidnapped me!”
The man definitely looked a bit worse for wear. He was buck naked, with budding bruise marks on almost every inch of his pale skin. His right eye was swelling, and his lip was split open.
Poor guy. Today just wasn’t his day.
Luhan tilted his head, doe eyes widening as he squatted down towards the man. “Psycho, you say? Tell me, what did he look like? Dark hair, kinda wavy? High cheekbones? Curly little lips that look like a cat's? Almond shaped eyes?”
Recognition flared in the man’s eyes. “Yes! How did you know.”
Luhan shrugged, rising to his full height. “Cause he’s right behind you.”
And he was. Jongdae had managed to creep silently up on them through the hallway despite looking like he’d just been in a fight with a chicken. His denim shirt was unbuttoned a few buttons too many, exposing his chest and several long scratch marks with about as many hickies. His sleeves, which were rolled up to his elbows were soaked in blood, and he had a fine sheen of sweat on his skin. His expression was murderous.
Luhan thought he looked fucking sexy. Even licked his lips.
“Oh no,” the man wailed, still not fully comprehending his situation. “Please, help me, oh god- help!.”
Luhan looked the man dead in the eye. “And why would I help you?” He said, as Jongdae pulled an aluminum bat from behind his back and swung with full force at the man’s skull.