Chapter Text
Jaemin wakes up when the first rays of golden sunlight hit his face. It's uncomfortably warm underneath the blankets, even more so with Jeno attached to his side, and it only gets worse when he recalls the previous night and feels his face burn in embarrassment.
How dramatic, he scoffs. Crying over ramen, what the fuck was wrong with him?
The shame is more than enough to propel him out of bed, though he takes a moment to stare at Jeno, who looks like an absolute angel while asleep. A wave of fondness overtakes all the negative emotions for a few seconds, before it is immediately replaced by guilt when he remembers the way Jeno had to take care of him. His precious acorn has been so, so patient with him, and Jaemin feels that he hasn’t expressed the extent of his gratitude properly.
Outside, he can hear clacking in the kitchens, signalling that the other two are awake as well. He steels himself as he makes up his mind to go meet them. He knows, regardless of the bitter well in his heart that tries to convince him otherwise, that they have missed him, and it’s unfair to ignore them after making them worry so much.
Just a light conversation, he tries to convince himself.
It’s a bit surprising to realize that his breakdown last night has made his head much, much, more clear today. And perhaps it’s the knowledge that Jeno doesn’t hate him even after being pushed away, combined with the water he drank settling in his body and quelling his dehydration-induced headaches, but going out doesn’t seem like a daunting task anymore. Now that he feels calmer, albeit extremely embarrassed and guilty, he realizes how much he’s missed Jisung and Renjun’s company.
When he enters the kitchen, Renjun is prodding at a lump of batter on a frying pan while Jisung stands to side with a fearful expression on his face. It’s an oddly endearing sight, and familiar on top of that. Memories of a year ago, when Renjun, energetic and eager to learn as always, would always make a mess in the kitchen trying to make something new, with Jisung his faithful assistant.
He can’t help the giggle that he lets out, and he’s pleased to notice that he doesn’t grow self conscious when Jisung and Renjun whirl around to look at him with wide eyes.
“Jaemin!” Renjun greets, abandoning his project to walk over to him in hurried steps. “How are you feeling? Have you gotten enough rest?”
It’s a safe question, doesn’t get on his nerves like their prodding usually does. It doesn’t feel laced with pity or confusion, rather just genuine concern that friends would always show each other.
“I’m fine,” Jaemin responds, voice raspy from sleep. Then, knowing that they’ve all noticed, he adds, “Jeno’s still asleep.”
Renjun grins at that, and so does Jisung, and Jaemin feels so incredibly light. He wonders the extent to which they had noticed his spiral, wonders how long they would have left him alone, thinking that he was just taking the rest he claimed to have needed.
It’s a question for another day. Here, Jaemin just wants to enjoy time with his friends without reality weighing down. What was wrong with him, what was wrong between them, what he had been feeling, what they had been feeling, it’s all important conversations to have, but it can wait.
So, they eat Renjun’s imitation of a pancake, save the burnt one for Jeno, and Jaemin watches happily as Jisung and Renjun banter back and forth. They do try to involve him in the conversation, but when he responds with smiles or nods, they cut back a bit and let him observe silently. Jaemin notices this, and he’s infinitely glad that they aren’t pushing him to talk anymore.
Of course, the pounding in his head soon returns, and he’s quick to get up to make himself coffee before the deprivation kicks in and kicks his ass. In his haste, he doesn’t notice Renjun and Jisung’s horrified look, and when he finally turns around to meet them, he realizes that they had been watching every single step of making the horrible instant coffee, including just how much of the coffee grounds he put in.
The silence stretches. Jisung is the first one to break it.
“Hyung, that’s… that’s so much! That can’t possibly be healthy for you, right?! Why are you drinking that much?”
Of course, the ever-present irritation spikes at that moment, and internally, he sighs. He hates his brain for doing this, making him annoyed at Jisung, when the boy is just expressing his rightful concern. But he recognizes the signs his brain is throwing at him, that every word they speak, every sound they make, will start getting on his every nerve, until his brain starts conjuring vile thoughts that physically repulses him and makes him hate himself. What a dramatic reaction for being asked about his coffee. Jaemin wishes he could understand why his brain does this to him without warning.
He forces a smile, and he sees the way Renjun’s face drops. They’ve noticed his irritation, fucking hell, Jaemin absolutely despises himself right now.
He wonders what he could possibly say to explain. The reason is easy enough; if he doesn’t drink that much, his body will give him hell for it. But that throws them onto the road of why he started drinking that much in the first place, and he’d rather not go there.
Renjun sighs. “He’s been drinking that much for a while, Jisung. He can’t suddenly stop now, or the side effects can hurt him badly.”
Oh, so they’ve noticed.
“But Jaemin,” Renjun says, careful as he regards him with a soft gaze, one that makes Jaemin fidget. “Please… please try to lower it? One step at a time?”
The ugly side of his brain doesn’t appreciate Renjun trying to meddle. The rational side tells him he should be touched that Renjun cares, and perhaps he can’t conjure that feeling right now, but he does manage to squash down the irritation and flash a much less forced smile. “I will, okay? I’ll cut down on the cups before I cut down on the concentration."
He doesn’t tell Renjun just how many cups he drinks in a day. Cutting down one or two will still do no favours for his health.
Renjun however, doesn’t know this, and smiles at him. “Thank you.”
It leaves them in an awkward atmosphere, but before he can dwell on it, Jeno walks in, blinking adorably. His hair is a mess atop his head, and he smiles as Renjun walks over to ruffle it aggressively. They exchange a look, and Jaemin knows it's about him, so he looks away, only to find Jisung watching him with a frown.
Jisung quickly moves to stand next to him, pouting. It's a sign that he's displeased with something.
"What side effects?" Jisung asks, wrinkling his nose. Jaemin almost sighs in relief when the expected pang of irritation doesn't hit him. He wishes his thoughts would stop being so volatile and out of his control, but he'll take what he can get.
"Just really bad migraines," Jaemin answers, not seeing a point in hiding it from Jisung. Jisung only pouts harder.
"They said drinking coffee also has really bad side effects."
"That's also true. I just have to find a compromise somewhere. I promise I got it under control, okay? Don't worry too much about it," Jaemin says, mouth stretching into a soft smile without him forcing it. Jisung grins back, and Jaemin's heart melts.
"Of course I'll worry about you, hyung. Everyone else is so useless — so I have to be the one protecting you," Jisung says with a huff, looking at where Renjun and Jeno are engaged in quiet conversation. "Me and Chenle talk about it so much, just how stupid everyone else is."
Not the first time Jisung has mentioned it. Jaemin laughs, asking, "Really? How so?"
"They just are! I promise I'll look after you, okay? And you can look after me too. I really missed you, hyung, so I can't let you go away again," Jisung declares earnestly, and Jaemin can't help but reach over and pinch his cheeks with a grin. A mirror into their old relationship. Perhaps things really were not as broken as he thought.
Practice would start again soon. Dream members are left without much to do whilst NCT U members rush around trying to perfect their performances. Eventually they'll be thrown headfirst into practices as well, but there is a lull in schedules for now.
Jaemin worries about his stamina, his physical condition, and his muscle memory, so he excuses himself to go into his room. He pulls out his phone and types in a list of things he should do, feeling his heart drop more and more as it keeps piling up. Medication, stretches, exercises, practices, how was he meant to keep track of all of this? He knows, that just because he feels okay today, doesn't mean he won't crash again tomorrow. Everything about him is unpredictable now. His mental state is fickle and prone to dry up at any given time.
The door opens. He looks up, surprised to see their manager walk in. Jaemin has had the room to himself for a while now; he knows the manager probably stays with his girlfriend at nights, and they all keep hush about it the way he keeps hush about their escapades.
"Jaemin, you have a therapy session scheduled for today," Manager hyung says, quiet, looking around and making sure no one is there to listen. Jaemin knows that it's not something to be embarrassed about, but the idea of his teammates knowing about his sessions makes him feel nauseous — once again, a feeling he cannot seem to control. He had begged to his unwilling manager to keep his appointments a secret, and thanked the heavens that most of the staff have a soft spot for him.
When Jaemin says silent, hyung continues, "You missed last week's one — for obvious reasons. Unfortunately, she could only schedule for today without it clashing with anything upcoming. I'm sorry for springing this on you without warning."
Jaemin nods. He doesn't want to go outside, but he knows it's necessary. Perhaps he can finally work through what he's been feeling.
He spends the rest of the time laying on his bed, unable to do anything now that his brain is fixated on therapy at 12PM. How stupid, there's still hours left, yet he can't bring himself to do anything else.
Instead, he thinks about the inevitable. When Renjun and Jeno would sit him down to talk. What can Jaemin even say? I'm feeling left out, I feel like I have to earn back your trust, I feel like you all take me for granted sometimes. There is so much wrong with that; first of all, he doesn't want them to start including him because he asked for it. He wants it to happen naturally, as selfish as it sounds. And he knows that there's nothing to take for granted, not when Jaemin should be the one grateful as they accepted him back into the group in the first place.
He hates it. He hates himself for losing himself the day he came back. If he had just stayed normal, kept up his mask, acted like the old Jaemin, everything would be fine. He wouldn't have set off the first domino that lead him here.
The pancake he ate sits heavy in his stomach. He isn't used to food anymore — god, that's another issue he has to deal with. It certainly was not intentional at first, but he would be lying if he said skipping meals didn't give him satisfaction. If you can't impress them with your skills, impress them with your looks. It goes against everything his trainers have told him. He needs a strong core, a strong back, to support his spine. All the muscle he has worked hard to build will wither away the longer he neglects his body. But still.
The feeling of being overwhelmed creeps up, and it's so beyond his control that all he can do is sigh.
It's strange, now that he thinks about it, having a day where he isn't cooking anything or cleaning anything up. No one has mentioned it yet; rather, they had seen that Jaemin wasn't making breakfast and did it on their own.
They really did make him do all that because they thought he liked it. He almost scoffs, but it feels hypocritical to laugh at their lack of communication when he hasn't been particularly exemplary as well.
Before he can dwell on it for any longer, the door creaks open, and Jeno pokes his head in.
"Hey," he greets softly, walking over and taking a seat next to Jaemin. The mattress bounces a little under the weight, and Jaemin waits for it to settle before responding with a quiet greeting of his own.
"I want to talk to you," Jeno says, looking at Jaemin. Jaemin suppresses a sigh, but nothing gets past Jeno as usual, and he turns to face Jaemin fully with a serious look on his face.
"Jaemin, the last thing I want to do is push you beyond what you're comfortable with. I've always been attuned to your needs and your limits, but obviously things have changed, and I need to relearn all of it," Jeno says, staring down at his hands. "I… You're still my best friend, Jaemin, and I will always love you the most, so it doesn't matter to me if you're a little different now, okay? And I was stupid to keep assuming things about you — oh, he'll still be loud, he wants to do the chores, he doesn't want to cook for Jisung."
Jaemin stays silent, so Jeno continues, though the steadiness in his voice is slowly fading, replaced with shaky words he's clearly barely holding together. "We never got to talk properly, after that day in the kitchen, and the days that followed were the worst days of my life. I thought you being injured was the worst it could ever get for me, but you being hurt from something I caused…. I can never forgive myself for doing that to you."
He's openly crying now, and Jaemin is stunned beyond words. Being mad at Jeno hasn't even crossed his mind. Even during the fight, all he felt was overwhelming hurt rather than anger. There's a part within Jaemin's brain that resents them all, is constantly irritated with their words, and is always, always angry, but that's not him. Jaemin doesn't hate his friends. Jaemin loves them so dearly he'd rather tear himself down than ever see them sad.
"Jeno," he begins, inching closer and wrapping an arm around his best friend, holding tight when Jeno falls into his chest, limp and weak. " I've forgiven you. I was never even mad at you. Things just accumulated, and all this time I've just been expecting you to read my mind. I was the one who stayed quiet about the chores. No one was forcing me to do them except for my own brain. And you've all been stupid too, but ultimately, it was all because I pushed you away and you didn't push back hard enough. We're both at fault, aren't we?"
Jeno sniffs, then looks up into Jaemin's own water eyes. "Can we... put this past us? We'll talk about things properly from now on, we'll tell each other what we want and what we don't want."
Jaemin nods. He knows it's empty. Jeno knows it's empty. Jaemin will let bygones be bygones of course, but being open and vulnerable is too much for his current state.
Jeno shakes his head stubbornly. "Well, I don't care if you don't want to talk. I'm your best friend, I can't stand to watch you destroy yourself like this. If… If it means annoying you because I'm pushing too hard, then I'll take it. I'd rather have you dislike me than ever step foot into another hospital." He ends with a huff, and it's so endearing that Jaemin can't help but to smile.
"I'm sorry for being difficult. I really am trying," Jaemin whispers, stroking Jeno's hair.
Jeno tucks his head back into Jaemin's neck. "I know you are. And I love you for it. And I'm trying too, Jaemin, I really am. Maybe I can't read you as well as I used to, and maybe I've misstepped over and over, and I'll keep misstepping, but I'm trying. And I need your help to actually succeed, so please."
Jaemin can't stand to watch Jeno beg for something Jaemin is being too stubborn to give. So, he settles for honesty that goes against all his wishes, and he tells Jeno, "I've been going to therapy."
Jeno jerks up in surprise. His eyes are wide, and Jaemin searches them for judgement, but when he finds none, he’s the one slumping into Jeno instead.
“It’s been… a few months, I guess,” Jaemin continues, hesitant about how much he should reveal. One look into Jeno’s eyes changes all that. Fuck it, he thinks. “When I was still in recovery… I guess I hit a point where everything felt hopeless. That is not to say that recovery itself was going badly, I was honestly quite pain free and mobile at that point. But…”
He trails off, wondering how on earth he could word this without coming off as desperate. As clingy. As jealous.
“I saw how well you all were doing without me. Harder choreos, harder songs, wins, all that hit me of course… but seeing how… close all of you got, it hurt. I felt like there was no place left for me anymore. And I know it’s irrational, I really do, but I can’t help what I felt. What I feel now. The only motivation I had to get better was completely drained out of me, and the voice that kept telling me that I wouldn’t be welcomed back only got louder and louder, until it was the only thought I had. So… I gave up.”
Jeno’s face is pinched, but his hands have found purchase in Jaemin’s own, calloused and rough yet so gentle and soft. It keeps Jaemin going despite how his voice gets progressively more shaky, and his breath begins to escape him.
“ I didn’t want to go through gruelling PT and exercise anymore. I didn’t want to try anymore. It had been so long since I had left, I was wondering what I was even fighting for at that point. Not trying eventually evolved into not taking care of myself… and…”
This is the hard part. The part that could make or break Jaemin’s image in Jeno’s eyes.
“I could’ve come back, you know? After the first six or so months. But I neglected myself so heavily my condition deteriorated all over again, and I had to start from square one again, and - “
He bursts into tears. He can’t help it. He hates reliving this; the frustration, the self-hatred, the disappointment that all came with being informed that his spine got worse instead of better. It was awful, so fucking awful, that Jaemin’s already feeble mental state had snapped completely. A lifeless husk was what was left, until his mother had decided enough was enough and scheduled him an appointment with a therapist.
“I understand if you hate me, Jeno. I would too, if I were you… but Jeno, I couldn’t help it. If I could choose, would I choose to be in that position? None of it was in my control, I swear I tried my best, but I was just so tired. And I know no amount of apologies can make it better, but I… I’m so frustrated, nothing that goes on in my head is within my control anymore, absolutely nothing.”
Jeno, who had remained silent all this time, stares at Jaemin with so much compassion that sobs break free once more. He’s immediately wrapped up in a warm embrace, and when Jeno speaks, it’s with an infinite amount of patience and care.
“And yet you’re still here. You managed to get better, against all those odds, and you managed to come back. And I know how awful coming back has been for you, but it doesn’t have to be that way anymore, Jaemin. You don’t have to hurt anymore, okay? We’ll take it one step at a time, one day after the other. You’re so, so much stronger than you think. So please, I’m asking - no, I’m begging - let me help you.”
And what can Jaemin do, except agree?