Chapter Text
The first thing Minho became aware of was that he was finally feeling warm and dry. In fact, he was completely engulfed in warmth, from his head to his toes. Dull whispers echoed occasionally in his ears, as well as faint footsteps from an unknown source. Minho let himself lay in his newly found heaven, not bothering to open his eyes before he drifted back into oblivion.
---
The next time Minho came to, he was too warm. The heat was radiating now, and he felt like he wanted to take his skin off. He started to fight the heat, trying to remove whatever it was making him feel so stuffy. But something cold, almost icy to his wrist makes him recoil, snapping his eyes open.
A blurry figure quickly removed his touch, and with a few blinks, Minho was able to make out a round-faced boy, who placed another hand to Minho's forehead. His eyes were wide, his mouth slightly agape as he turned away from Minho's view.
"Changbin-hyung! HYUNG!" Jisung yelled, Minho flinching at the sudden noise increase.
Another shadow appeared, and Minho was able to make out Changbin's thin figure behind the younger's shoulder. "Aish, Ji, you're gonna wake him up."
"I'm already awake," Minho curtly responded, figuring it's too late for him to fall back asleep now.
The two heads above Minho snapped towards him, mouths agape. "He's burning up," the younger pressed his lips, without turning to look at Changbin.
Changbin placed a hand on Minho's forehead, which Minho attempted to swap away, but his hand didn't seem to have its usual reflex speed. "He is looking a bit red," Changbin responded, frowning.
Minho didn't say anything as Changbin left, presumably looking for fever reducers. Jisung turned back to his hyung laying on their living room couch. He had looked so small, so fragile since Chan had burst in two days ago, an unconscious, drenched Minho limp in his arms. Jisung had never seen Minho so vulnerable. He was always the steady one, the one who could joke through any tribulation, the one who was only soft when a member needed it. He never, never expected in all his life that Minho would attempt to walk six miles in one of Seoul's worst storms of the year. Never had he seen Chan look so unbelievably helpless, even when he refused to leave Minho's side for twenty-six hours straight, before his body finally gave up and he had fallen asleep holding Minho's hand while kneeling on the floor, leaning into the couch. Changbin had carried Chan to his own room, and then had delegated members to take turns watching Minho. Changbin had carefully instructed that if anything happened, to let him know immediately, no matter how small.
"Whatcha looking at, Han-ah?" Minho teased the younger with his stage name. He smiled weakly, his fingers reaching around the blankets, searching. Jisung slipped his fingers into Minho's as warm droplets formed around his eyes. Minho's hand relaxed in Jisung's grip on the blanket as he leaned back into his pillow with a sigh. Jisung's lips thinned.
"It's just- I can't-" Jisung tried to form thoughts between hiccups, tears rolling down those preciously large, 70%-of-his-face cheeks that Minho adored. "You really had to do the most after- after-"
Minho bursted out in a laugh, but tried to quiet down when Jisung slapped his shoulder. "No!" Jisung snapped, starting to turn red now too. "It's not funny. I don't know why you think this is funny."
Minho opened his mouth to respond, but Jisung continued, the veins in his neck popping out. "You could have fucking died, hyung. People have died in those storms. What the fuck happened that you didn't just call a taxi?"
Suddenly, the weight of his actions felt a lot heavier now that Minho wasn't the only one carrying them. He looked away. "I'm..." Minho sighed. "I'm really sorry." Minho had to find courage in himself to look back at his younger brother. "I'm so sorry for everything, Jisung-ah." Minho whispered. He wasn't even sure Jisung heard it. He knew he had fucked up, from the moment he was elimated to now. He had hurt everyone when he was only trying to hurt himself.
Jisung's hand squeezed Minho's, and he looked up to Jisung's sparkling eyes. "Don't do it again Hyung." Jisung's voice was shaky, but soft. "I'll pick you up if you don't want to pay for a taxi."
Minho felt his lips turn up at his sweet, innocent younger brother. At least Chan didn't tell them where he had found Minho. At least, he would only have to have one uncomfortable conversation with one person.
He wasn't even going to do anything. Minho didn't really remember why he stopped on the bridge in the first place. Everything about that afternoon was a complete blur now. Because Minho surely wouldn't actually act on some frustrated impulses?
Footsteps returned, and Changbin appeared once again behind Jisung's shoulder. The older offered a small smile at Minho as he scooched Jisung off the nearby chair. "There you are, hyung."
Minho put his weight onto his elbow so he could sit up for the pill and water Changbin was holding. Changbin placed the pill in Minho's hand, and let Minho hold the cup in his other. The cup started to shake violently in Minho's hold, and Changin hurried to help Minho place it to his lips.
When he had swallowed the pill, Changbin took back the cup, placing it beside his chair on the floor before gently grabbing Minho's shoulders and pushing until Minho was laying on his back again.
Minho smiled softly, a twinge of pain radiating from his chest. "Comforting your hyung?"
Minho could have sworn that Changbin's eyes sparkled before he blinked it all away. "What, I can't check on you?" He whispered back, a half-formed smile shaking near his dimple.
"Oh my god!" A voice that could only be their youngest called somewhere from behind the couch Minho laid on. "Minho-hyung! You're- you're awake!"
Then came the stampede of footsteps that usually only came running into the kitchen when someone brought home free dinner. Jeongin, with Hyunjin and Felix right behind, tackled Minho into a hug that had him choking for a breath of air.
"Let him breathe, you big dumbasses." Seungmin pushed through the heads of hair just to brush Minho's strays from his eyes. "He just came back to us and you're going to send him back to the other side."
Minho let the kids hold him, taking turns hugging him and babying him, asking him if he needed anything every ten minutes. It didn't stop the entire afternoon. Minho felt like a prince, taking full advantage of his temporary celebrity status in the dorms. He commanded Seungmin to bow before giving him chamomile tea (Seungmin gave him the finger in response) and teased Jeongin with cuddles while he helped Minho change out of sweaty clothes when his temperature broke.
The only thing they refused Minho was his ability to get up and check on his hyung. The door to Chan's room had been closed for hours now, without a single peep of noise from the other side. The window shone orange hues onto the rusty knob. A morning dove cooed a soft sob. Jeongin and Hyunjin had gone on a walk, while Changbin and Felix had gone to the local grocery store roughly three blocks from their dorm. Jisung had fallen asleep on the chair next to the couch Minho was laying on, leaving just Seungmin chopping onions in the kitchen behind him. Minho used his arm to prop himself up, twisting his torso to peer at his deongsang from just above to the couch's back.
Seungmin didn't look up, but he seemed to know exactly Minho's intentions anyway. "No."
Minho's jaw dropped dramatically. "No, what?" He demanded.
"No, you're not going to visit hyung." The knife thudded five beats before Minho stood up, for the first time since he woke up.
"Hey!" The younger shouted, finally giving Minho his full attention. Minho grinned as he started to take wide, shaky steps to the oranged hued door.
"Hey, hey, hey." Seungmin all but sprinted to Minho's side, his voice suddenly dropping to a hoarse whisper. "Hey. Hey." He grabbed Minho's arm and wrapped the other around his shoulders.
"Jesus, Seungmo." Minho's head fell back with a laugh. He turned to Seungmin's dead serious frown. "Just help me walk in and sit with him."
"No."
"Okay," Minho turned away from Seungmin's grip. "Then I'll see you after."
"Fine!" Seungmin gave up, hands thrown into the air. "I'll help you in." He compromised.
Seungmin gently twisted the knob and pushed open the door to Chan's room before he slid an arm around Minho so the older could lean on him. Minho honestly felt the strength already returning to his legs, but he let his little brother have this one.
Chan was stretched across his bed like a seastar. The sheets were jumbled up in bunches, the pillow sitting upright on the floor, hunched over in abandonment. A peak of fading blonde was sticking out in between the mountains of sheets, the only clue that Chan was even there.
Seungmin helped Minho sit on the edge of the bed, back resting on the headboard before he leaned against the corner of the creaked open door. Minho had to death stare him until he finally slipped out to give the eldest two boys privacy.
Minho used his fingers to smooth out the rippled sheets before finding Chan's head of curls. He used the edges of his fingers to softly scratch the crevice behind the eldest's ear, a habit he'd picked up from coddling his cats back home. Chan groaned, limbs causing the sheets to collapse and rise again, before a big brown eye poked through the pale covers.
The eye blinked once, then twice before they widened in recognition. Chan sat up before he had bearings on his location, nearly toppling over and out of the bed. Minho reached out, but Chan caught himself, eyes catching Minho's figure over and over again like he was trying to draw Minho with his irises.
Chan's arms reached for Minho's shoulders, trying to steady the younger without realizing that Minho was the one trying to steady him. "You're, what- you're awake!" Chan exclaimed, trying to process everything at once. Minho huffed a laugh. "So are you."
"You- ah- are you okay?" Chan's eyes were wide and shiny, and Minho's heart was tender from bruising. "I'm okay, Channie-hyung."
Chan looked away then, and the air seemed to get heavier. They sat together, one with a foot under the thigh, and one with both legs crossed. The silence was deafening. Minho had to put in effort to relax his lips, before sighing and turning back to his hyung. "I'm sorry, Chan."
There was the silence again, and for a half-second Minho regretted speaking at all before Chan turned back. "I'm the one who should be sorry." His voice sounded folded up, like a piece of paper pressed by a fist. “I… I should have protected you.”
Minho instantly knew that Chan wasn’t talking about the bridge. “It wasn’t your fault, hyung.”
“It is,” Chan disagreed. “If I had spent more time with you on Glow, you would have been more confident in your performance.”
“No,” Minho argued. “It was never you.” He reached out, gently laying a hand over the elder’s. “I should have practiced more. It was a mistake.”
Chan’s eyes stayed glued to the floor. “A mistake I can’t fix.”
Minho sighed. “And that’s okay.”
Chan suddenly turned. “You’re one to talk.” He retorted sharply. Minho flinched. He knew this was coming, but the coldness and hurt in Chan’s voice felt like an ocean’s freezing wave washing over him. Minho waited for a scolding to come. But it never did.
Soft sobs replaced it, filling the room with sniffles and stuffy tears. Minho didn’t say anything as Chan started to cry. He knew that Chan hated it when someone tried to comfort him when he broke down. Chan liked to be left alone to process things. So Minho sat silently, removing his hand and staring at the slightly adjacent door.
Several minutes passed before the hiccups started to fade, and the sniffles started to soften. Minho had spent the time examining Chan’s bedroom, which he shared with Seungmin, Jeongin and Changbin. Minho slept on the other side of the dorm with the rest, so he didn’t spend much time in here. Peeling beige paint stared back at the two, comforting Minho in a nostalgic, bittersweet way. Minho knew he didn’t have much more time in the dorms. After he talked with Chan, he was sure he would have to pack his things and go home. His episode on the bridge was only a distraction from the fate that awaited him. He technically shouldn’t even be here right now. He’s no longer a member of Stray Kids. He’s just Lee Minho, a nobody kid that was destined for a forgettable office job.
“You know you really scared me, Min?” Chan’s voice was different again. Shaky. Hoarse. Like he was comforting a violent animal, all while tending the bite that proved it. Minho looked down. “I know.”
“You- you- if I hadn’t gotten there, if I hadn’t went looking-”
“Why were you looking?” Minho interrupted. Chan turned, big eyes washing over Minho like he was the most precious thing in the world. “I tried to find you after they finished filming. I found Millie-noona instead.”
Minho’s heart dropped as he cursed himself. He thought he hadn’t been obvious. Clearly, he shouldn’t have spoken to his favorite noona, even if it was the last time.
“She said she offered to drive you home, but you wanted to practice some more.” Chan took in a breath. “Which to me, didn’t make any sense because what would you have been practicing for?” A beat passed. “I wanted to check on you.”
Chan continued without taking a breath. “But you weren’t there. You weren’t anywhere in the building. I checked everywhere.” Minho nodded. When Chan said everywhere, he meant it. But Minho was long gone.
“I called you,” It sounded painful to say. “But you didn’t answer. I- I know I worry a lot, maybe too much, but with everything that happened… with everything that happened to him…” Chan gulped hard, his voice dropping low. “I didn’t want to assume you were safe.”
Minho shuddered. “To who, hyung?” He questioned, voice barely a whisper.
Chan’s silence felt so long that Minho wondered if he even heard, before Chan finally spoke up. “My own hyung. Seojun.” Chan said the name with a shaky exhale, like it hurt to let it surface. Minho had never heard of Seojun before. Chan’s hyungs- the ones he lost before Stray Kids- were like a hidden passageway into his hyung’s life that Chan refused to open. Maybe it was because it hurt too much to talk about, or because Chan was like Minho: hating the pitying eyes of his deongsangs, that Chan never once spoke their names, until now.
“He… he wanted to make it. We all did.” Chan turned his eyes to Minho’s, and the younger’s chest tightened when he saw the reddish, shiny glint in the elder’s. “But that’s not how life works, is it?”
No, it isn’t. Minho’s mind answered, but his lips remained tied shut, fearing that if he opened them, he would lose it.
Chan continued. “Seojun-hyung… he was hard-working. So, so hard-working. So, when he was removed from the trainee program, he… he didn’t know what to do with himself. This was his everything. His whole life. He- he completely lost it when he found out.” Chan was staring at his hands, his mouth seemingly moving faster than his mind could keep up. Minho remained silent, not wanting to disrupt Chan’s frantic train of thoughts. He never thought that Chan would ever open up like this. Especially not to Minho, the newest member of the team, who Chan technically knew the least. It was weird seeing Chan talk about his life before Minho and the kids. But at the same time, Minho wanted nothing more but to be the listening ear his brother needed right now. Minho wanted to be someone Chan could lean on, even if it was for the last time.
“When Seojun-hyung didn’t show up to practice that morning, we were told that he had left the company. Nothing else. The guys and I, we figured, ‘Let’s talk to him after our schedule today. We’ll take him out to eat and make sure he’s okay.’” Minho watched as Chan flexed his knuckles, eyes hovering on the floor. “So we stayed at practice, acting like nothing happened.” Chan flexed his knuckles again, bones cracking softly in the barren silence.
“When we walked back to the dorm,” Chan continued softly, “Hyung wasn’t there. We checked all the rooms, the bathroom, and the yard. He was gone.” Chan choked on his words, blinking as saliva blocked his airways. Minho hurried to hand Chan the water bottle on his desk, which Chan accepted after hovering his hand in the air for a second.
“We split to find him, and I was sent back to the company to check, since it was the closest.” The water bottle in Chan’s hand started to shake, plastic cracking as it curled in on itself. Minho offered his hand to take the water bottle back. “You don’t have to keep going, hyung,” Minho offered quietly. “It’s… it’s hard.” Wow, what a way with words, Minho cursed himself silently as Chan gave him back the bottle.
“No,” Chan refused, his voice weaker than ever. It was like this story that Chan was so keen on telling was sucking the life out of him. Sweat glistened the pale skin on Chan’s brow. “You- you should know. It’s why… it’s why I looked for you.” Minho nodded, defeated.
“I checked the bathrooms last. They were vacant and I almost left, but in the corner of my eye, I saw something red on the floor of the corner stall.” Minho’s stomach dropped, his face suddenly losing all feeling. His stomach churned as he anticipated Chan’s next words.
“And that’s how I found him.” Chan’s words drew a bite. “Unconscious and covered in his own blood from self-inflected wounds, with a kitchen knife from the breakroom.” Minho did everything in his power to keep his face neutral as Chan continued. “I screamed, like a baby, at the sight.” The elder’s words were laced with regret. “I’ll… I’ll never forget it.”
When the silence told Minho that Chan had finished, he inhaled deeply, new information explaining why Chan had looked for Minho.
He was afraid of losing another brother.
“Did…” Several seconds of silence ensued. “Did he survive, hyung?”
Chan shook his head. New tears rolled down his dimpled cheeks, constant yet quiet. “He was buried with his eomma back in Canada.”
Oh.
Minho’s chest felt empty, eyebrows fixed together like glue. A fist squeezed his heart in pulses, realizing the hell he put Chan through, for the second time. No kid should have to go witness something like this, yet alone twice.
No wonder he got sick worrying over me.
“Oh Chan… I am so sorry.” Minho turned his figure to face his hyung, blinking as he traced the elder’s figure with his eyes over and over.
Minho was so, so sorry, and so, so angry at himself. Why did he stop at the bridge? He knew he wasn’t going to do anything, he’s not like that, so why did he have to stop? He scared Channie-hyung. He made Chan relive something Chan had buried for years. Chan, who sacrificed hours of sleep, comfort, and life just to keep his deonsangs afloat.
A real good friend you are.
“I’m glad you’re okay.” Chan’s words pulled Minho out of his spiraling thoughts. “Don’t… don’t do anything you’ll regret, okay?” Chan faced his deonsang, hand reaching out to brush a few strands of hair out of Minho’s blinking eyes. “Just talk to me. Talk to any of us. We’ll listen.”
Minho opened his mouth, blinking, and then closed it. I wasn’t going to do anything, Minho wanted to say. But if the words left his mouth, would it be a lie?
“Thank you for checking on me,” Minho murmured instead, barely enunciating.
“You know I always will,” Chan replied softly.
------
Chan rarely let Minho out of his sight for the last two days he was in the dorm. He had stayed up late on the phone, demanding, then begging their company to give him some time to recover before he left. While Minho felt a little bit like a bug under a microscope, he let his hyung have this one, because he knew Chan needed it. Changbin made sure Minho stayed on top of every medication prescribed for his recovery that he had to take at every odd hour of the day, and Jeongin magically showed up with pudding from the local vendor each evening. Jisung came home with a bike adorned with a pink ribbon, the lime colored handles making Minho roar with laughter. So he doesn’t get lost in another storm, Jisung had pouted. Hyunjin scribbled and scribbled on his sketch pad as he sprawled onto the living room chair next to Minho, until a hasty, beautiful sketch of an orange cat appeared on top of Minho’s suitcase. Minho recognized the markings of his baby, Soonie, as he picked it up. It looked suspiciously like the photo Minho had of her on his desk. Felix, the freckled cuddlebug that he was, practically melted into Minho’s lap at every waking chance he got. Minho pretended not to feel the wetness that moistened his neck, which involuntarily caused Minho’s own eyes to water. Seungmin, well, was Seungmin. He was always around, but never too close. But when it was finally time for Minho to step out of the dorm for the last time, Seungmin had used the most tissues.
Minho never liked being taken care of. Especially not by his younger brothers. It made the tips of his ears warm and made his chest turn. But it did lift the dread that had been plaguing Minho since his last performance with Stray Kids. And for that, he would always be grateful.