"We have an hour to make an almost two-hour drive," Blanca said.

Ash nodded, stepping out into the dark night. Wind blew, frigid knives cutting at their faces. Sing, Cain, Alex, Bones, Kong, and Lao were all following along. We're the strangest gang ever.

"Charlie said we're not allowed to kill," said Sing. "Unless necessary. He said 'please,' so we should probably listen."

Ash gulped. He looked down at his hands, clad in black gloves Aurora (or, Eiji) had bought him for his birthday back in the summer. Can I? It was still automatic, sometimes, to kill. Even if he hadn't killed anyone in years.

I don't want my son or Mingyu to see me like that. They were too young.

Then again, who knew what they had seen already. He clenched his fists. He had to remember. Had to keep it in his mind. He loved those kids, and he wasn't going to lose them, and he didn't want to kill because he loved them.

"Got your motorcycle, Sing," said Lao.

"I'll drive the rest of us," said Cain. "See you there."

"You have the address?" Ash asked Sing.

Sing tossed him a helmet, fastening his own over his head. "Yeah. Hold on."

Ash rolled his eyes. Gone were the days when Sing was a shrimp whom he could intimidate, who looked up to him. They'd been meeting eye-to-eye for awhile now, and honestly Ash had been looking up to him just as much for years.

Sing took off. The wind was brutal in this weather. Christmas lights sparkled. Griffin loved Christmas lights. Ash vowed to decorate their entire living room and kitchen and also Griffin's bedroom with Christmas lights if they all came out of this okay. And they had to.

He remembered zooming along New York's streets with Shorter, both of them yelling things like "fuck juvie" after they'd gotten out. Sing would have been really just a kid then. Maybe Ash had met him, but he wouldn't remember. The moon glowed bright above them, splashing them in silver light.

Shorter, if you're there, help us.

Sing ignored speed limits. Good. So did Cain, and it almost seemed as if they were racing each other, but of course they weren't. Ash's heart pounded. His son—what if they'd hurt him? Could he really stop himself from killing Rebecca Wiley and her father then? And what the hell were Griffin and Mingyu even thinking to get themselves in this kind of—

Griffin, you're grounded forever.

Sing swerved to avoid a patch of ice.

What if this is our life? What if we'll always be chasing?

He supposed Eiji would drag him along, if so.

Sing slowed as they reached what looked like a huge field. Lights glimmered in the distance. Small planes, for the rich.

Blanca jumped out of Cain's car. Lao was shaking. "Charlie said they got a call—Rebecca Wiley and her father are dead. The kids aren't there, but their school bags are."

"Son of a bitch!" Ash kicked Cain's car.

"Do not," snapped Cain.

You fucking idiot, biting off more than you could chew, endangering my—and you're dead now—

"Charlie and Jenkins have SWAT on their way," added Lao, teeth chattering and not from cold, in all likelihood. "But—"

"They'll kill them, won't they?" asked Ash.

"They want you in a country where you have no resources," said Blanca. "If SWAT gets too sloppy, then, yes." He adjusted his rifle. "I'll stay up here."

"So you'll be killing them."

"No, I'm shooting a chemical that's going to knock them out immediately for at least twelve hours, of Sing's husband's invention," Blanca retorted.

"Pacifistic weapons," Sing offered. "Just sell them as weapons and leave off the fact that they're not killing and you'd be shocked how many people will buy them anyways."

I can't. Ash shook his head. "Well, this has real bullets." He held up his gun.

"As will they." Blanca jerked his head. "Get going." His jaw was set, knuckles white.

"I've seen that look on his face once before," said Sing. "When we were in that hospital, that night. He's not going to miss." The grim look on Sing's face suggested he had no intention of missing, either.

Ash nodded. Sing, Cain, and Lao took off in one direction, heading towards the planes, Ash leading Alex, Kong, and Bones in the other, towards the actual airport. Bones carries a briefcase. "The hell is that?"

"Jessica lent some grenades."

Ash didn't even want to ask. Charlie was probably not going to sleep for a week worrying about all the criminal activity he'd heard about tonight that he wouldn't do anything about. But not because he didn't want to stamp out crime like most cops, but because he actually got the point of law enforcement far more than anyone else. Protecting people.

You're one of the few good people I know, Charlie.

Shorter would like you.

"A few guards in the corridor there," reported Alex, peering through binoculars. "I don't see the kids. Some receptionists, normal people who probably have no idea that the guy reading the magazine or the woman on her phone are in some kind of mob."

"Jessica also gave us some tear gas canisters," said Bones. "In her defense I think they're Blanca's."

Again, Ash was not going to ask. "You wanna?"

Bones smirked, grabbing two canisters and running.

Sorry, receptionists and rich parents jetting off to the Bahamas, Ash thought. The kidnappers had probably played off Mingyu and Griffin as kids, too—their kids. Maybe they'd been given something to make them sleep.

"Nice one, Bones," said Alex. "People are freaking out, running around. Oh, the two guards are heading towards the back."

Blanca was probably keeping watch over Sing and the others on the tarmac. Ash sprinted for the building, Kong and Alex behind him, Bones joining as they raced in an emergency exit people were rushing out of, gasping. Ash yanked his scarf up over his mouth. His eyes stung. His lungs burned. He didn't care.

Gunfire. Out on the tarmac. "Shit!"

"Keep going," Alex hissed.

"Search the rooms, right?" Kong broke open a locked door.

"Right," Ash choked out. Sing, don't get yourself killed! Don't get any of yourselves killed! He couldn't handle Griffin blaming himself for something like that.

Ash burst into an empty women's room, shoving open each stall. He yelled their names. He couldn't help it. He raced over the tiles, the fumes dissipating the further he ran, his gun firing of his own accord, aiming not to kill but to incapacitate. "Griffin! Mingyu!"

"Ash, this way!" bellowed Alex's voice.

Ash wheeled to his left, charging down a hallway. A woman dressed in a business suit fired at him. He shot her hand, knocking the gun from her, stepping on her hand to break it as he ran towards the exit. More gunfire peppered the air. People would be hurt—the kids—Griffin with his soft eyes and—

He burst out a door to find himself in a hangar, doors shutting and someone in an unfamiliar voice shouting about a sniper. Thanks, Blanca. But now Blanca couldn't—

A bullet narrowly missed his skull. Ash ducked. He spotted Sing and Cain, firing from behind a plane. Lao looked to be behind another one, bullets the only sign of his life. Kong and Bones were behind a plane, in danger if anyone tried to shoot the—

Alex shot someone who had the exact same thought Ash did. Get away from something with gas in it, idiots!

They were all risking their lives for them. For their kids. His son, Sing's daughter. Ash wanted to cry.

And then heat, and light, and sound. One of the planes towards the back, shot from where it looked like Lao was hiding. And Ash was screaming, and he couldn't even hear himself. What if they were—

There. Right there. Griffin and Mingyu, running together, holding hands. Ash's scream changed to his son's name, the movements to form his name familiar in Ash's mouth even if he couldn't hear it.

Mingyu slipped in what looked like a puddle of gasoline. Griffin whirled around, but it was okay—Sing had seen, Sing was running closer just like Ash was, Sing had snatched Griffin in his arms and raced for his daughter too—

"One more step and she dies!" A man with slicked back hair had sprung out of nowhere, now holding a gun to Mingyu's chin. He clutched her by her hair.

"Mingyu!" screamed Griffin.

"Mingyu!" Sing shoved Griffin behind him, protecting him. Ash didn't hesitate.

And then his son's eyes turned to his left, and they landed on Ash, gun in hand.

The bullet fired. The man howled as the bullet went into his buttocks. Cain sprung, sending another shot to knock the man down, yanking Mingyu to safety. Sing was screaming, sobbing, holding his daughter. Lao grabbed them both, dragging them out of the hanger. Ash swooped down, snatching his son. He couldn't scream. He couldn't even breathe now. Griffin clung to him, and Ash ran faster than he'd even run in his life, his son safe and alive in his arms, sobbing over and over again. He raced up the hill, towards Blanca, towards wailing sirens and flashing blue and red, towards Charlie smiling, and he realized what his son was saying again and again.

"Daddy, I love you, Daddy."

Ash dropped to his knees. Around him Cain had a grazed shoulder, Lao a likely concussion, and Alex kept coughing from the tear gas, but Kong and Bones were fine. Blanca was informing Charlie of what happened. Sing, like Ash, had fallen to the ground holding his child, bawling like he often teased Yut-Lung for.

He pressed his lips to the top of Griffin's head, unable to speak. Tears fell hot down his cheeks. His son kept repeating it.

"I love you, too," Ash croaked. "You're—did they hurt you?"

Griffin shook his head.

Relief poured through Ash. He folded his head over Griffin's shoulder. You're okay. You're really okay.

I love you so much.

"I'll watch them," promised Jessica after the receptionist gave them the room numbers.

Eiji nodded. He and Yut-Lung flew through the hospital's emergency room doors.

"No running!" scolded a nurse. Eiji didn't even stop to apologize to her. He couldn't. His heart was in his throat and sweat dotted his forehead and he felt like he was about to throw up. He found the room number, across from where Mingyu was, and flew inside.

Griffin and Ash both sat together on a cot, Ash with his arm draped around their son. Ash had a bruise on his hand, but nothing serious.

"Dad!" shrieked Griffin.

Eiji flung himself at his son, squeezing him and gasping. Tears streamed down his face. Griffin sniffled. Eiji met Ash's own eyes, wet. You saved him.

I knew you would.

"Are you hurt?" Eiji eked out.

"No." Griffin shook his head.

The door opened again. Charlie appeared.

"Uncle Charlie!"

"Hey there, kiddo," Charlie said. He met Ash's gaze. Ash mouthed that he was okay, and Charlie nodded. "Got a few questions for you, if that's all right with your parents."

"Sure," said Eiji, sitting down next to Ash, Griffin on his lap. He might be nine and getting too big for this, but not right now. Eiji wanted to protect him forever and he couldn't fathom that they'd almost lost him.

Ash squeezed his hand. Eiji felt the ring on Ash's hand, its promise.

Little by little the story poured out. Charlie didn't mention that Rebecca Wiley was dead and Griffin didn't seem to know, which relieved Eiji. That could wait.

"She said she was working on a story about you, Dad." Griffin kicked his legs out. "It was mostly Mingyu who wanted to—she said that if Mingyu helped prove her parents were heroes, Jingwei and Xiaoli wouldn't be bullied anymore, so—" He frowned. "I don't want Mingyu to get in trouble." His cheeks reddened.

"She's not with us at least," Eiji assured. "I think Yut-Lung and Sing are too happy you're both okay to be mad."

"So she'd just talk to us and bought us things like ice cream and stuff. She didn't ask us to do anything. And then she said to meet her at recess because she had a surprise, and then she took us to her house, and her dad was weird, and she—Mingyu wanted to go home and she hit her and said we couldn't go—" Griffin's lip trembled. "Then the other guys showed up and we were asleep."

"She hit Mingyu?" Ash asked sharply.

Griffin nodded, crying. "I told her to hit me instead and she laughed. She seemed like she was a friend, but she was mean."

She was a total bitch, but Eiji kept that to himself.

"I just—wanted to help—" Griffin wiped at his eyes. "They said they knew people who hurt—both of you and Yut-Lung and Sing before—"

"Hurt how?" Charlie asked, tone even.

Griffin shrugged. "Didn't say."

"Thank you, Griffin," Charlie said, patting the boy on his knee. "You've been very helpful. And brave. It must have been scary."

Griffin nodded. "But I knew they'd be coming. All our dads. Even when they were saying they worked for people who hurt you, I knew you'd come."

Charlie looked as if he was about to cry. Ash's mouth fell open. Eiji felt frozen. To our son… we're not broken.

"I'll give you a minute." Charlie left.

"If the bullying is getting so bad, why didn't you tell me?" asked Eiji. Ash's face screamed the same question.

Griffin shrugged. "You and Dad always seem to have everything sorted out. Everyone likes you, and I—"

"That isn't true," Eiji cut in. He almost laughed. "Griffin—Yut-Lung used to bully me."

"Huh?" Griffin's eyes widened.

"It's true," Eiji said. "But eventually we—worked things out. We talked to each other and to other people for help, and lots of people helped us. Blanca and Cain and Alex and Kong and Bones, Sing and—" Well not Lao. "Lots of people. You don't have to do everything on your own."

"That's how I got myself in a lot of trouble," Ash said. "Trying to do things on my own too much. Then your father came along."

Griffin almost giggled. "Really?"

"Really. I'll tell you the full story another day." Ash cleared his throat. "Griffin… none of us four were heroes. We did some good things and we did a lot of bad things to do good things, but it's very complicated. Some people will never think I'm a good person and that's okay."

"Well, I think you're a good person," said Griffin.

Ash's eyes misted. "I think you are, too."

Ash's phone rang. Eiji glanced at the screen and held it up. Jim. Ash's face whitened.

Eiji answered. "Hello?"

"Eiji? How is—is my son—is Griffin—"

"Ash saved Griffin," Eiji said quickly. He hesitated, looking at Ash. Ash gave a tiny nod. "Do you want to talk to Griffin? He'd probably like to hear from you."

"Um, okay—"

Eiji handed Griffin the phone. "It's your grandpa." He tugged Ash away for a moment as Jessica, Max, and Aurora finally arrived, Aurora shrieking and rushing towards her brother.

"Got the full story?" came Blanca's voice behind them, as Eiji was weighing what to say.

"Pretty much," Ash confirmed. "Thanks, by the way."

Blanca shrugged. "It doesn't seem like there is a lot that could have been done to prevent it."

"That's not reassuring."

"I don't know," said Blanca. "What reassures me is how well you two—you four—handled it." He put his hand on Ash's shoulder. "They'll be all right."

"He's talking to his grandfather now," Ash said. "Who's suddenly concerned." Ash's voice cracked.

Why didn't he protect you? Why didn't he show up, guns blazing, to rip that coach away from you, move you away, hold you and tell you it was all right? Why did he tell you to prostitute yourself? Eiji had no answers. He rested his chin on Ash's other shoulder. Ash exhaled.

They watched as Max swung Aurora around, teasing her. Griffin hung up the phone and immediately rushed towards Blanca.

They had good grandparents, too. Eiji checked his own phone and saw a dozen calls from his mother. Akira and Ibe probably let her know. He sent a text and a promise to call in the morning.

You can't repair every wound. His hand traced his scar, the place a bullet cut through him, and he saw Yut-Lung and Sing emerging with their kids, and he smiled at Yut-Lung. But some you can.

He put his hand on Ash's shoulder, the place Foxx had once stabbed him. And when you can't… I'll hold you.

My soul is always with you.

Yut-Lung was shaking and crying, Mingyu in his arms. She'd already sobbed her apologies, scared she'd upset them, knowing she should have come to them instead of trying to do it herself.

"We're here to help you," Sing assured her.

"We love you," Yut-Lung repeated again. "No matter what. Okay, Mingyu?"

She wiped her nose. "You're not mad at me?"

Yut-Lung shook his head.

"What about Jingwei? He didn't know—he really thought it was Evie and I thought it'd make him happy—"

"It's okay," Yut-Lung insisted. "You wanted to make him happy. He just didn't need an elaborate lie, because most lies hurt in the end even if they're well intentioned."

"But you learned a lesson," said Sing. "That's okay. We're all learning."

"What if he—hates me?" whimpered Mingyu. "Or Xiaoli. She knew something was wrong and I told her—not to worry—"

"Oh, sweetheart, they won't hate you," Yut-Lung assured her, taking his daughter's hands. "I promise." He met Sing's eyes. "I did something really, really bad to your father once, and to your uncle Lao. Not even with good intentions. They forgave me. Your brother and sister will forgive you, I promise."

It was, possibly, the first time he'd said aloud that he'd done something horrible, and not hated himself for it. Because Sing loved him, in spite of it. Sing married him, and because of Sing they had these three children Yut-Lung loved more than anything.

"You did something bad?" Mingyu blinked.

"Yes," Yut-Lung said. "And your dad told me he loved me anyways. And that he would help me. Yes, Mingyu, you should have talked to us. You made some poor choices, but even if you'd known what you were doing, we'd still love you and want to help you, want to save you."

Mingyu's eyes welled up. "I wanted to be brave, take care of people, help people, like you."

That's what you think of me? Yut-Lung met Sing's gaze, Sing with his mouth open.

"You are," Yut-Lung assured her. "And I'm only... I wasn't brave for a long time. And I didn't take care of people. But I learned how to. You'll learn to. It's okay to make mistakes."

"If we had died, would it have been my fault?" Mingyu pressed her face into Yut-Lung's shoulder. "I really thought they might kill us. And Griffin was just trying to help me, and if he'd died because of me, I—"

"He didn't," Yut-Lung told her, cupping her face, her cheeks soft and damp. "Neither of you died. It's not your fault, Mingyu. You're a kid who made a mistake. We're not mad. Ash and Eiji aren't mad at you, either, and neither is Blanca, or Charlie, or Nadia, or Uncle Lao. We all are just glad you're okay." Please believe me. He didn't know how to convince her. He need to, though. He couldn't stand to watch her in so much pain, hating herself, when he loved every part of her, even the times she was selfish or obsessive about studying, or too trusting.

Living it, he supposed. Love was messy and complicated, filled with nuance and shifts, unpredictable and a risk, with every person a unique risk.

Someone who isn't loved cannot love.

I'm loved. And I love. I love so many.

"You don't have to be perfect," Yut-Lung choked out. "You're not a failure." No matter what. No matter what.

She clung to him, sobbing. "I was—so—scared."

Sing came over, sitting on her other side. Both of them held her. "We were scared, too."

Her sobs quieted. Sing rubbed her back.

The door opened, and Xiaoli and Jingwei rushed in, both hugging Mingyu so tight Sing had to remind them not to strangle their sister.

"She's a good big sister," Yut-Lung whispered to Sing.

He nodded. "She is." He glanced at Yut-Lung.

"For a moment," said Yut-Lung. "When we were waiting for news, I was afraid it was karma, for what I did to Hua-Lung."

"He was never a brother to you," said Sing. "He abused you."

Yut-Lung swallowed. "They'll probably find out someday."

"Yes," Sing said. "And I'll be here. And they will know how much you love them, even if they're angry, because you show it to them every day."

"I do?"

Sing smirked, his thumb tracing Yut-Lung's chin. "Yeah. You do. It's something I love about you."

"Tell me more." Yut-Lung tossed his hair.

Sing snorted. "You love that you love them. It makes you happy. You radiate joy when you're with them. Like Eiji, you seem to have an endless well of empathy."

"Like you, too, you mean." Yut-Lung's face flushed.

Sing kissed his temple.

You used to be filled with hatred. It poured from every word you spoke.

It was never more than a shadow. It was only ever love that you wanted to show, and be shown, and couldn't.

Loving you is an adventure. I get to wake up each day and see you resurrect, come alive, and feel alive too.

"Why him?" Lao had asked when he first found out after seeing them kissing. "He tried to kill us!"

"You tried to kill Ash," Sing had reminded him. "And ditched me."

"I don't approve."

"I didn't ask." Sing shrugged. "He's not who you think he is."

"I'd rather you found a nice girl and settled down and had kids like any—"

"I don't know how much I like girls. Maybe a little bit." Sing's nose wrinkled.

"Okay, fine. A nice boy."

"Yut-Lung is nice."

Lao moaned.

"I don't need to lead the gang," said Sing. "I'd rather—be with Yut-Lung than be a boss. Like Ash with Eiji. I care about all the guys, but—you're probably better suited to lead them."

Lao studied him, and then he smiled softly. "But they chose you."

It took Sing years to free himself from the underworld, but with Yut-Lung and Lao's help, he did it, and his guys still had as much protection as Yut-Lung could give them. His relationship with Yut-Lung was equally slow-moving, pettiness chipping away and arguments frequent, but laughter more so, and kisses became heavier and deeper, until when Sing was eighteen and Yut-Lung turned twenty and they were making out and Sing's body was reacting beyond his control, and Yut-Lung asked him if he wanted something.

And then Yut-Lung was kneeling in front of him. "If you want to," he'd said. "I'd like to."

And Sing had nodded.

"I don't want to pressure—"

"You're not," Sing cut in. "I was beginning to wonder if you'd ever want to."

"And you were still here?" Yut-Lung blinked.

"Yeah," Sing said. "I can always jerk off alone. I can't spend time with you with anyone else." Because I love you. "Don't cry!"

Yut-Lung sniffled. "You're crying."

"I am not!" Sing's eyes stung.

"Are too," Yut-Lung teased and Sing laughed. I just realized I love you.

He didn't say it just then, though, even as waves of ecstasy rolled through him. It wasn't even his body so much as that realization: I really love you.

And you love me. He didn't even need to ask.

When he led Sing to his bedroom, Sing found that Yut-Lung had scattered rose petals and couldn't keep himself from teasing him. "Planning this, were you?"

Yut-Lung shoved him. Sing pressed him up against the wall, kissing him, and Yut-Lung bit his lip gently. His fingers roved through Sing's hair as Sing hitched him up. Sing pulled Yut-Lung's shirt over his head, his knuckles tracing Yut-Lung's tattoo.

When their clothes were in a heap on the floor and they'd moved towards the bed, Yut-Lung stiffened.

"What's wrong?" managed Sing. Yut-Lung was tiny in comparison—maybe he was—

"Nothing," Yut-Lung said, turning over.

Sing caught Yut-Lung's wrist. "I'd rather face you."

Yut-Lung's eyes widened. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," said Sing. "I'm not just—doing this to feel good. I want to see you." I want to make love to you, not just screw for the sake of screwing.

Yut-Lung's lips opened slightly, curving upward in a smile. "Okay."

It soon became apparent that Yut-Lung did, in fact, know what he was doing. But he didn't mind teaching Sing, shifting and adjusting, and whenever ghosts invaded, he would reach up and cup Sing's face, as if to remind himself.

It's you.

"I love you," Sing finally whispered, and shock fell over Yut-Lung's face. And then something else: a full smile.

He didn't even question it. He wrapped his legs around Sing's waist. Sing felt teeth on his ear. "I love you, too." Yut-Lung's voice sounded almost giddy, freefalling, spinning, something e couldn't believe he got to say, but he did.

Yut-Lung couldn't maintain a cool facade in the end, and neither could Sing, but that was okay. Their chests sticky with sweat, Sing held him.

I want a life with you.

He didn't care about the ghosts battling for Yut-Lung's face in that moment. He'd spend his life batting them away, because he was someone who saw Sing and believed in him, always had, gave him sound advice, pulled him back on his feet just like Sing pulled him back up, too.

Whatever kind of life they would build, he wanted it with Yut-Lung. Even Lao came around, minus the one time five years ago where he had to stay overnight and found pink handcuffs in Sing's dresser and spent two weeks not speaking to either of them.

They left the hospital as dawn broke through the clouds, Yut-Lung carrying Jingwei. Xiaoli and Mingyu held Sing's hands. Eiji carried Aurora, and Ash had his hand on Griffin's shoulder.

"Call you later?" Sing asked. "After a nice long nap?"

Ash snorted. "Yeah." Aurora was proclaiming that she would never ever make fun of her brother ever again.

This life we have together, Sing thought, watching as Yut-Lung buckled Jingwei into his car seat, careful not to wake the boy. Mingyu was tried to figure out how to buckle herself in without letting go of her hug with Xiaoli. It's a good one.