(Mention of self harm)

The morning light seeped through the thin curtains, casting golden rays across the room. Dust particles danced in the sunlight, but the warmth did nothing to ease the cold weight pressing against Gemini’s chest. His eyes remained on Fourth’s face, watching the slow rise and fall of his breathing.

The night had been brutal. Fourth had barely slept, his body trembling even under the thick blankets. Every so often, he would shift, his brows furrowing as if trapped in a nightmare he couldn’t escape. Gemini had stayed awake, watching over him, but it didn’t feel like enough. It would never be enough.

A soft knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts. He looked up as Prim stepped inside, carrying a tray with a bowl of steaming soup and a glass of water. Behind her, Tu, Phuwin, and Pond followed, their faces tight with concern.

"How is he?" Prim whispered, setting the tray down carefully on the nightstand.

Gemini exhaled, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "Still sleeping. Barely got any rest." His voice was low, thick with exhaustion.

Tu frowned. "Has he said anything?"

"No," Gemini muttered. "Not a word."

A heavy silence filled the room, the weight of unspoken worries pressing down on them. Then, Phuwin shifted uncomfortably before speaking. "Gem, I think… there's something we need to tell you."

There was something in his voice that made Gemini tense. His eyes snapped up, sharp and searching. "What?"

Phuwin hesitated, exchanging a glance with Prim. She sighed and stepped closer. "Gemini… we think Fourth has been struggling with more than just what happened with his uncle."

Gemini’s expression darkened. "What do you mean?"

Tu pressed her lips together before pulling out her phone. With careful fingers, she tapped the screen and then turned it toward Gemini. The moment he saw the image, his breath caught in his throat.

A close-up of Fourth’s wrist. Pale skin marred with thin, faded scars. Some old, barely visible. Others newer, still raw.

The world seemed to tilt, the image burning into his mind. His fingers curled into a fist as he reached for the phone, his grip tightening around it. His chest constricted, a sickening realization settling deep in his gut.

He had spent so much time pushing Fourth away, treating him like an inconvenience. All this time, Fourth had been suffering, carrying this pain alone.

"He's been hiding it," Prim whispered, her voice soft but heavy with sorrow. "We never knew how bad it was. He’s always been good at masking his pain."

Gemini clenched his jaw. "And you're telling me this now?" His voice was tight, frustration slipping into his tone.

"We only just found out," Pond said firmly. "We suspected something was wrong, but last night confirmed it. His panic attacks, the way he shuts down—it’s not just from the kidnapping. This has been going on for years."

A crushing silence followed.

Gemini inhaled sharply, but the air felt thick, suffocating. His mistakes flashed before his eyes. The times he had dismissed Fourth’s emotions, brushed off his pain as weakness. He had thrown cold words at someone who had already been drowning. And now, those words felt like blades turning against his own skin.

"I was horrible to him," Gemini whispered, more to himself than anyone else.

"You didn't know," Prim tried to reassure him.

"That’s not an excuse," he muttered. "I should have seen it. I should have known."

Tu crossed her arms, her voice firm. "What matters now is what you do from here. He needs help, Gem."

Gemini turned his gaze back to Fourth, his heart twisting painfully. His sharp remarks, his dismissive actions—they replayed in his mind like a cruel reminder of his failures. But underneath all that regret, something else was stirring.

Why did it hurt this much?

Why did seeing Fourth like this feel like his own chest was being ripped open?

Why did he feel this overwhelming need to protect him?

For the first time, Gemini questioned everything he thought he knew about himself.

And for the first time, he realized that maybe Fourth wasn’t just someone he was forced to marry.

Maybe he was something more.

---

The air felt too heavy. Too thick.

Fourth stirred, his body aching as he slowly regained consciousness. His eyelids fluttered open, the dim light of the room making him squint. His head throbbed, his limbs weak.

The first thing he noticed was the presence of others. The hushed voices. The lingering silence that followed when they realized he was awake.

Swallowing against the dryness in his throat, Fourth turned his head slightly. His gaze met Gemini’s.

Something was different.

Gemini’s usual indifference was gone. Instead, his eyes held something else. Something intense. Something Fourth couldn’t quite decipher.

His fingers curled under the blanket. His heart pounded. Anxiety crawled up his spine.

“You’re awake,” Gemini finally said, his voice quieter than Fourth had ever heard it.

Fourth hesitated, nodding slightly. He could feel the weight of everyone’s stares. Prim. Tu. Phuwin. Pond. Their faces were filled with something unbearable—concern.

But it was Gemini’s gaze that unsettled him the most.

An awkward silence stretched between them before Tu cleared her throat. "Fourth, we need to talk."

Fourth stiffened. "About what?"

Prim stepped forward, her expression soft, hesitant. "We know."

The words slammed into him like a punch to the chest.

His breath hitched. His stomach twisted violently. His hands gripped the blanket so tightly his knuckles turned white.

"Know what?" he whispered, his voice barely there.

Gemini didn’t look away. "The scars."

Everything inside Fourth froze.

His vision blurred. His ears rang.

No.

They weren’t supposed to know. No one was supposed to know.

"I don’t—"

"Don’t," Gemini cut in, his tone sharp but not unkind. "Don’t lie. We’ve seen them."

Shame crashed over him, hot and suffocating. His skin burned, his heart pounded so hard it hurt. He wanted to disappear.

"I’m fine," he choked out, the lie bitter on his tongue.

"No, you’re not," Prim said, her voice breaking. "And that’s okay."

Fourth shook his head. "It’s not—it’s not okay."

His breathing turned erratic, his chest tightening. The walls felt like they were closing in, pressing against him. His vision blurred, the voices around him overlapping, becoming too much.

Then, suddenly—warmth.

A firm hand wrapped around his wrist. Steady. Grounding.

Fourth gasped, his blurred vision sharpening just enough to see Gemini kneeling beside the bed, his hand holding Fourth’s trembling one.

"Breathe," Gemini instructed, his voice low, steady. "Just breathe."

Fourth squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on the warmth anchoring him. Gemini’s touch wasn’t forceful. It wasn’t suffocating. It was just… there. Unyielding. Patient.

Slowly, painfully, his breathing evened out.

When he opened his eyes, Gemini was still there. Watching him with an expression Fourth didn’t recognize.

It wasn’t pity.

It wasn’t disgust.

It was something else. Something that made Fourth’s chest ache in a way he couldn’t understand.

"We’re not leaving you alone in this," Gemini murmured.

Fourth bit his lip, his walls threatening to crack.

He wanted to believe him.

But years of pain weren’t so easily undone.

For now, though, he let himself hold onto that small, fragile thread of hope.

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