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Against The World

Chapter 7: Community Service

Summary:

Taeil continues to look into Taeyong's past, while Mark begins his community service. Doyoung takes some time to catch up with Mark and talk about the past.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Taeil's eyes were flickering shut as he read the rest of Taeyong's file. He'd printed it for ease of viewing—to save his eyes as he sat in limited lighting—and sat on the couch. Mark wasn't in the room, and even if he was, he'd hardly be paying attention. Since he didn't need to hide, he began to use his phone again. The psychiatrist was amazed it still worked, even if it was slightly outdated.

The information in the file was rather repetitive. Taeyong would do his therapy, injure himself, and rampage at Doctor Park or whoever was the nearest to him. He'd made three nurses quit. He refused to take medication, would have to be held down and forced to take it. It seemed like he was in a padded cell almost every other week. He wasn't allowed to communicate with other patients and was left in his room. The entire time he was reading, Taeil was sighing in frustration. Through sickness, violence, and eventual assault, they didn't see the problem with his treatment.

No. It was more like they didn't care enough to make the changes.

Taeil was dreading watching the video footage, but he knew he had to. He made himself a coffee to force himself awake and grabbed the pen drive, slotting it into his laptop. He opened the file. Relieved to find them labeled, he took a sip of his drink—burning himself in the process—and clicked on the first video. It was from the orphanage in 2009; Taeyong was ten years old. The psychiatrist held his breath, nervous. He didn't know why he was having such an emotional day. It took him a while to acknowledge that the small boy who sat on the end of the bed was indeed Taeyong.

He was sat so still that Taeil had to check whether the video was paused. After confirming that it wasn't, he looked into the back corner. The video was from midnight. It seemed as though they had a camera fitted in the room to monitor him, he did understand why, though. Taeyong was probably unpredictable back then. However, from what the psychiatrist had read, from various sources, he wasn't violent toward the orphanage staff in the first few years. He was more scared than anything.

Soon, the young boy stood up. He walked over to the door to the room, limping, as Taeil noted, and began to pull on the handle. It was in vain—the door was locked. He pulled it some more, trying to look through the gap. He shrunk onto the ground in defeat. Sat in a crouch, he began to preoccupy himself by pulling at his sleeve. Sighing, Taeil had another drink of his coffee. There was a sudden change in lighting on the footage and he quickly placed his cup back on the table. The door opened, and Taeyong immediately scrambled away from where he was, hopping onto the bed using all four limbs, which made Taeil furrow his eyebrows. He must have grown out of traveling like that.

It was a woman who walked in. A staff member, the psychiatrist assumed. She seemed rather young. She slowly edged over to the bed, crouching down as close to his level as she could, and Taeil guessed that she was talking to him. The young boy refused to look at her. His gaze was fixed on the wall beside him. Because of the camera angle, he couldn't actually see the woman's face, but he had enough faith in the orphanage staff to not be the type to shout at a terrified young boy who'd heard his own mother's murder and was abused by his father. The boy soon adopted a position that was all so familiar to Taeil. He pulled his legs up to his chest and began to gently rock, which seemed to alarm the woman, and she stepped back.

She turned around and after a moment, another, older woman walked in. The latter actually got onto the bed, maneuvering carefully around Taeyong. She slipped one hand behind his head and another gently on his arm. If the quality was any better, Taeil wondered if he would be able to read the woman's lips. She said something to the younger woman, who moved over to the door, soon disappearing beyond it. By then, the boy was visibly hyperventilating. The woman continued to talk to him, trying to calm him down. Taeil began to hold his breath again, quickly pausing the video. He needed some fresh air.

As he opened the window, the psychiatrist wondered what the orphanage staff would be doing all those years later. If their identities were noted anywhere—which he guessed they would be—then he'd have the chance to contact them. The more he knew, the easier his job would be. Taeil sighed, looking out of the window.

"What's this?"

Mark.

"When did you come through?" asked Taeil, taken aback.

"Just then," he replied, "what are you watching?"

Closing the window with a thud, the psychiatrist hurried over to his laptop. He shut it, turning to look at the younger with a serious expression. "It's for work."

"And this," said Mark, pointing at Taeyong's file, "I can read, you know. Is that Taeyong in the video?"

"You can't see it. It's confidential."

"I asked a question, I didn't say anything about seeing the video."

Taeil sighed. "Yes, it's Taeyong. Happy?"

"Who's the woman in the video? His mother?"

"No, she's a staff member in the orphanage he was put in—" the elder paused, "you already know too much, can you leave?"

"Who am I going to tell? I won't even think about telling anybody. Plus, I'm technically Taeyong's family since we're dating," said Mark.

"It's nothing interesting. It's actually depressing if anything."

"I can take anything. I've had to watch him in plenty of horrible states these last three years."

"No, Mark," Taeil responded, sternly, "I signed a confidentiality agreement when I was employed, I can't break that, not even to family."

"But who will find—"

"No. I mean it."

The younger sighed bitterly. "Alright, fine."

"You should sleep, you have community service in the morning."

"Who are you? My mother?"

"More like a probation officer. Now, I have work to do."

Mark turned around, shaking his head as he walked away. He slipped into the other room and Taeil sighed in relief. He sat back on the couch, had a drink, and opened his laptop. Rather than continuing to watch the same clip, he returned to the list of files and scanned through it. There were fourteen videos in total. Four of which were from the orphanage. He looked through the titles: "managing trauma", "teaching attempts", "violent responses" and "introduction". Aside from the peculiar order, the titles made him raise an eyebrow. They almost sounded like the videos belonged to some textbook archive or something along that line. But surely that wasn't the case.

The videos from Namhyeon were labeled with dates rather than anything notable. But the final video caught Taeil's eye. "October 23rd, 2017". Three days before the closure. Three days before Doctor Park was supposed to kill Taeyong. Six days until their fates were reversed. Not thinking of much else, he clicked on the video. The quality was far better—but it was eight years later—and the patient looked recognizable. He was eighteen years old. Yet again, there was a mounted camera, but it made slightly more sense. Taeyong was in the padded cell. Taeil felt a shiver take over his body.

The patient's eyes were hardly open as he sat upright, dressed in the straitjacket which he'd later kill Doctor Park in. The psychiatrist could tell almost immediately that his calm behavior was due to sedatives. Whether they were given to him by the book, as was written, was beyond Taeil's knowledge, and there certainly wasn't any information in the video. He just hoped it wasn't the aftermath of Taeyong being assaulted by his psychiatrist. The patient's body soon fell back against the wall, his eyes closed completely. The video footage was once again silent, so the psychiatrist was left to ponder what exactly was going on as he watched Taeyong's lips part and join repeatedly.

Paying closer attention, Taeil furrowed his eyebrows. He mimicked the patient, trying to decipher what he was saying. His mind clicked; Taeyong was counting. As the psychiatrist had a drink, the younger began to hit his head on the wall, but upon realizing it wasn't doing anything at all, he pushed himself over and fell onto his side. It didn't take long for Taeil to become thankful that there wasn't actually any sound. Taeyong seemed to be literally screaming, rolling on the ground. Like in the last video, the door opened.

Taeil expected Doctor Park to enter. But instead, two men walked in, who he soon realized were actually the security for when people were really acting up. Soon, a middle-aged man in a doctor's coat walked in, and the psychiatrist immediately scowled. Doctor Park. Taeyong must have stopped shouting as the two security men grabbed him by each arm, pulling him up to his feet. But they weren't going to take him quietly. He was kicking at them, trying to break free. That was the Taeyong that he once knew.

The psychiatrist was taken aback as the video cut but switched to another room. His eyes instantly widened. He could recognize that machine from anywhere, and he was sure Taeyong would too. He must have been forced into the bed—now out of his straitjacket and instead restrained to the bed—by the security men, but they were nowhere in sight. The patient wasn't under anesthetic, which, in modern practice, he would have been. He was wide awake, fighting against the restraints keeping him in place.

Taeil looked away as Doctor Park pressed a button. He only looked back to press away from the video. He closed his eyes and sighed, placing his head in his hands. He had a feeling that the psychiatrist was going to haunt his dreams that night, but he'd had enough. He couldn't watch anything else. He knew he'd have to watch the videos properly eventually, but he didn't want to make his day worse than it already was.

 


 

Mark wasn't enjoying the surprisingly bright Autumn sun at ten-thirty in the morning. Taeil had forced him out of the car—literally—to begin his first day of community service. He hadn't gotten a job to pay back the fines, as he hadn't even begun looking for one. He thought community service would be a walk in the park, but as a contraption that he immediately recognized as a litter-picker was held in his direction, he closed his eyes, sighing in frustration. It felt like he was back in high school.

"I'm sure you don't need a tutorial on how to use one of those, right? Get a bag and get picking. If you're feeling brave, use your hands."

Mark scowled, pulling the metal into his grasp. Somehow, a thought slipped into his mind about how the large tong-like contraption would be far more effective at beating the community service officer over the back of the head—

But since he'd narrowly escaped prison time, he assumed that wouldn't be the best move.

He pulled a bag out of a bucket, and very unenthusiastically, he began to pick up rubbish. Several times, he'd miss the bag and end up going on a chase, following around a small wrapper as passersby gave him funny looks. The officer was preoccupied with his phone as Mark slaved away. He didn't understand why there was so much discard just pushed away at the corner of the street. Just abandoned, left to rot. The space was probably ridden by rodents when there wasn't somebody poking around through the litter.

Being down an alleyway, Mark found that time was going exceptionally slowly. As a result, he was beginning to lose his patience early. He thought community service was usually a group thing. Either he was special, or he was wrong. But he didn't particularly care which it was. He made an effort to show his distaste, aggressively stuffing things into the bag. For a moment, when he looked toward the officer, he saw a car drive past slowly, and Mark was almost certain it was the detectives. He sneered. They were treating him like some sort of hazard.

Through his irritated and hazed mind, he never noticed Namhyeon peeking through the gap on the other side of the alleyway, being assisted by scaffolding that surrounded the building. Or, not for a while, anyway. But when he turned and saw the familiar structure, he dropped all activities to just stare at it. It was obvious the building was probably close to being demolished. Oddly, it made Mark feel kind of sad.

Everything that happened—the good and the bad—in that building would be left to nothing but a memory. In some cases, he revered that. Some things that had happened were best left in the past, like the violence, murders, and fighting. But connections blossomed in a place renowned for being a place of gloom. To everybody else, it was a waste of space and an eyesore. But to a few, it was home. Even Mark felt that way.

He heard somebody clear their throat, and turned to see the community service officer looking at him with his arms crossed. "You're here to work, not daydream."

The Mark that existed three years earlier would bow and apologize. Perhaps he'd work even harder from thereon. But the Mark that stood in the present day wasn't like that. He dropped the litter-picker onto the floor with a metallic thud and walked away. He had nothing to apologize or repay for. All he did was for survival.

 


 

"How are you doing?" asked Taeil as the door closed gently.

Donghyuck sat down on the couch, gripping onto his knees as he sat up. "Alright, I suppose."

"Did you look over the medication options and decide which one to change to? I heard your mother visited, did you bring it up to her?"

"I did, she just told me to let you decide. 'You know better'."

"That may be so," said the psychiatrist, "but I can't just decide for you, this is your treatment."

"But, can't you just say I chose?"

Taeil sighed, shaking his head. "I don't want you to put your life in my hands, that's not a mutual partnership, is it? You can decide with my help—of course—but you need to make the call for this one."

"I'll just nod along," said Donghyuck.

"You're aware that medication has side effects, so why would you let me dictate what hell you have to go through? I could just pick the worst, but cheapest for you."

"But I know you won't. You're not like that."

That was somewhat relieving to Taeil. "My point is, don't rely on your psychiatrist to decide what is right for you. I'll help you, but I'm not deciding for you."

"Alright, fine."

"So," Taeil flipped through his file and removed the sheet which he'd given a copy of to Donghyuck. "Have you at least decided to stay on a specific type? Do you want to continue using SSRIs?"

"That's probably better, so the change won't be too different, I suppose."

"You're currently on a reduced dose of sertraline. That should be maintained for another week or two, to be safe. Before I get into the medications, have you got any concerns, or have you had any physical struggles recently? Your blood test results are back and they're all clear, but just to be safe."

"Just the usual headaches, but the ward is loud when everybody is out for lunch and we're allowed to get some exercise," Donghyuck replied.

"Is that the only time? I do know you've reported headaches consistently, so that isn't too worrying. Have they gotten any worse recently?"

"No, they're just the same. It's only during free time."

"Alright, that sounds rather normal then. Anything else? Any pain or discomfort?"

Donghyuck shook his head. "That's all."

"Well, we can keep that in mind. Now—medication. Let's look at all possible options and weigh up which one is better, okay?"

 


 

"I can't believe you're here, at my door, when you're supposed to be doing community service. What happened?" asked Doyoung, "You look horrible."

"I'm not doing it."

"I don't think you can just not do it, it's kind of a legal bind now. You signed the paper."

Mark sighed, his fists clenched by his side. "I haven't done anything wrong!"

"You stole for three years."

"I was doing what I had to in order to survive and keep Taeyong as healthy as I could, you should understand that!"

"You could have gotten help—"

"No!" Mark exclaimed, "I can't trust anybody with him."

"You trusted Taeil."

"Because I thought I could. He's the reason I managed to get so close to Taeyong. We wouldn't be together today if it wasn't—"

"Wait," said Doyoung, "together?"

"That's what I said, yes."

"As in, dating?"

"Old news, Doyoung. We've been together for over three years."

The elder looked alarmed and pulled Mark into the apartment, closing the door behind him. "You've been dating since you were seventeen."

"I just said that."

"Taeyong was twenty-one."

"I'm glad you have a good memory."

"You're missing the point," Doyoung groaned, "that's... potentially illegal."

"You're telling me you didn't think about dating Jaehyun until you turned twenty?"

"That's exactly what I'm implying—" he paused, "How did you know we're dating?"

Mark sighed. "I might have only talked to Taeyong for three years, but I haven't lost my brain. That's how I also found your apartment. Taeil writes everything down."

"He wrote down that we're—"

"No, he wrote the date. Probably for your anniversary of dating or whatever. Plus, he did look after Jaehyun, he's the type of guy who cares about this kind of thing."

"Stop shifting the topic over to me," said Doyoung, "you didn't break the law with him, did you?"

"You're acting like a child who doesn't like the word. If you put it like that, then yes."

"But we had that talk about not going too quickly with him. You know, because he's... how he is."

"'How he is'?" Mark sneered, "He's not an alien, he has a decent understanding of when something is wrong."

"But you slept with somebody who has been abused, my concern is that for one, it was illegal, and two, was that somehow traumatizing to him in the past?"

"He's never mentioned it."

"Because it's not an easy topic, Mark. You can't pull the 'he hasn't told me' card with this. This is serious."

"Alright! There was one time when he freaked out. But I apologized, left him to calm down, and was more careful afterward."

Doyoung sighed, burying his face in his hands. "Did you even think about what that means?"

"Well, he's not the biggest fan of having s—"

"Mark. I'm still being serious."

"I asked him why he reacted like that, but he didn't want to talk about it. I just assumed he wasn't up for it. That's been the case before and believe me, he does make that clear."

"As long as you were never pushy with him, that's better. But it was still illegal."

"Who do you think I am? I would never be pushy with anyone, let alone him!"

"Alright, sorry. I'm just worried," said Doyoung, "it wasn't my intention to suggest that you would."

"I get it."

"Now, do you want to explain why you're refusing to do your community service? Surely something happened, or you wouldn't have left. Taeil told me you went this morning."

They both moved over to the couch, and the younger friend sighed. "The guy who was with me was an asshole. But I'm sure community service is usually done in a group, but I was alone."

"Maybe they think you're dangerous," Doyoung joked.

"I'm not dangerous!"

"You have the temper of a lion."

"And even the detectives keep checking on me like I'm some kind of threat."

"It might be their protocol, Mark," said the elder, "plus, you have been off the radar for three years, it's to help you adapt—"

"I'm the same person I was three years ago!"

Doyoung sighed. "You've become more agitated."

"That's because they've taken Taeyong away from me and are forcing me to repay them for surviving."

"Look, I can understand your frustration, but because you're alive, they have to punish you, otherwise everybody would use the excuse that it was for survival."

"The difference is, we're serious. I could have stolen more, but instead, Taeyong's health was a little unstable. It's not as if we were some poor people living in a house they could barely afford. We were technically homeless."

"But as far as they're concerned, Taeyong ran away—so did you. You didn't have to become homeless."

"Somebody tried to kill Taeyong. Why would we have just risked it happening again?"

"Well, it's fine now. He's getting treatment. But I don't know if you realize, but he probably doesn't have health insurance. That means he'll have to pay more. Where will he get the money?"

Mark fell silent. Of course, they'll try to extort money from him. "I'll pay for that, but I'm not paying the people who are trying to make our lives harder than they already are."

"I believe Taeil is currently paying."

"He didn't tell me that," said the younger through gritted teeth.

"Are you seriously refusing his help? Can I remind you that you're twenty, you didn't graduate high school and you have an assault on your record for the last day you were in school?"

"He deserved it."

"But you should have at least done it away from a crowd. I had to ignore people calling you psychotic for several months, and even argued with somebody who said something incredibly inappropriate about you and Taeyong."

"You didn't need to defend me. I wasn't there to hear it."

Doyoung shook his head. "Everybody would have started calling you a masochist."

"I don't even want to know what was said," Mark groaned.

"It wasn't nice. It sounded more like something Yuta would do rather than Taeyong."

"I don't want to know!"

Doyoung chuckled. "I missed you, you know. So did Jungwoo. Lucas felt horrible when you left, he thought it was his fault."

"Well, I haven't really been thinking the nicest things about Lucas," Mark replied.

"I know he was a bit of an asshole. Believe me, even I told him that. Jaehyun punched him because I was shouting and he got worked up."

"Where is he anyway?"

"Jaehyun? He's out. Whether he's actually doing what he's supposed to or he's getting drunk somewhere, I'm not sure."

"He drinks?"

"He never stops!" Doyoung groaned, "I suppose it makes sense. He's dealing with a personality disorder and won't accept that his parents don't care about him. Most of the time, I can't even convince him to sleep in the bedroom. He's trying to stop, though."

"What about you? Are you in university?" asked Mark.

"That I am. I'm putting my intelligence to good use. I didn't want to follow the crowd, so I'm going to get into research instead. Maybe I can produce a three-hundred-page-long analysis of your boyfriend's behavior."

"I should have guessed. You always seemed curious about why Taeyong acts like he does, rather than helping the issue."

"Exactly!" the elder exclaimed, "Maybe he can help me make a revolutionary discovery about behavior."

"I wouldn't count on it," Mark replied, "maybe three years ago, but now he's struggling and I won't let you put any pressure on him."

Doyoung frowned. "Alright. I don't want to face your wrath, I'll find somebody else."

It was more of a case of "I don't want to lose a friend"—since he thought the younger would probably just drop him—but he'd never say that out loud. He just kept it inside, hoping that he and Mark remained friends, no matter what happened.

Notes:

Any criticisms of the story so far? I'd like to know so I can improve. Don't worry about offending me, I can take it!