Work Text:
Seungmin will be the first to say that he's a logical sort of fellow. As much as he likes to throw some sass at his pack members, tease and poke and prod at the limits of their patience sometimes, he prides himself on being the kind of person who doesn't let his wolf get the better of him. Sure, one could argue that Kim Seungmin could be the poster boy for Beta stereotypes -- the dependable, quiet one, the one who plays peacemaker and conflict resolver -- and Kim Seungmin would only shrug and agree with nothing more than a hum.
Because the truth is, being the only Beta in a pack of eight with 4 Alphas and 3 Omegas leaves no wiggle room for error. Ask Seungmin about the ins and outs of a heat or rut and he'd be able to regurgitate the lived experiences of his pack members. Quiz him about the right kinds of snacks to bring to an Alpha in a rut or the sort of birth controls an Omega should be on, and he'll be able to recommend the best from every convenience store or pharmacy in a five-mile radius from wherever he is at.
Yet, ask Seungmin to explain why he wakes to find himself standing on the edge of a road wearing nothing but his sleep pants and oversized shirt in the middle of the night, he'll only look at you with empty eyes and the tilt of a head.
Gripping onto the nearest bollard, he shivers in the chill, gritting his teeth against the chatter. Sensations come back to him one by one; the ache in his feet that he realises is from the cuts and bruises on his bare soles, the numbness on his fingertips that begins to tingle when he blows a trembling breath on them to warm up, the pounding in his head that cuts through all the confusion and panic wrapping around his neck in a noose.
He doesn't recognise the trees. The nearest street signs seem aimed at providing him with at least some sort of navigation point, but Seungmin can't register them one whit. Towers upon towers of apartments with blinking lights stretch out behind the treeline but Seungmin's brain pulls up only blanks when he tries to name them. They look familiar and yet not at all.
Seungmin, the only Beta of his pack, will be the absolute first in line to tell you that logic is a mantle he wears with pride. But here, at this moment on a lonely street, dissolving into panicked tears, he can't seem to grasp anything that resembles reason.
"Min?"
"Mm?" Seungmin answers, not looking away from the passing scenery outside the window of their van. He's tired, he aches all over. There is a strange sense of disconnect between his body and his thoughts, and it feels like he is being wrapped in gossamer threads that cling to his every fibre, keeping him from anything that could anchor him. He remembers an old book he read once, about a boy with nine lives and his friend who had his soul locked away and trapped in a room where it was bewitched with a thousand spell knots.
Did it feel a little like how he was feeling now, he wonders.
"...doctor?"
Clarity comes to him then and he turns to see his Pack Alpha looking over at him with worry in his eyes. Oh no, a trickle of conscious thought wiggles through the fugue, this is bad.
"I'm sorry?" He asks, blinking away the haze in the corners of his eyes.
Chan frowns and something dark crosses his eyes. "I'm asking if we should schedule a visit to the doctor for the pack. We're due our yearly checkups and we'll have downtime soon enough."
Seungmin blinks again. Gaze moving to where Minho is also looking at him with an intent curiosity that reminds him of a cat observing its prey, he swallows back against a mild ache that begins to curl at the base of his skull. "Shouldn't you be asking Minho hyung that?"
The answer doesn't seem to satisfy Chan. "I'm asking you and him because you're the Pack Beta and he's the Pack Omega," Chan says slowly, the corners of his lip tightening as if he is annoyed that he even has to say this. "You both have a say in the overall running and well-being of this pack."
Seungmin flinches a little and hides his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. A tiny voice that sounds a lot like his own begins to replay a tinny of 'you're just a Beta nothing more, Chan is only being kind and including you because you're the only Beta in his pack, you have nothing to add to this'. Looking up back at Minho whose eyes are beginning to narrow at every second he doesn't give a satisfactory answer to their Pack Alpha, he darts a tongue out quickly to lick over the dryness of his lips.
"I'll defer to whatever Minho hyung decides."
"That's..." Chan trails off, the syllable lost in the humming quiet of the company van. Seungmin turns his body away, muffling down a groan when the motion aggravates the ache in his feet. He'll need to pop a few pain meds before dance practice today if he wants a shot at making it out without breaking down in pain.
A random street becomes the bridge near their dorms, then becomes the middle of a crossing, which then becomes Seungmin waking up in their dorm's darkened kitchen with a knife to his arm.
He carefully resheaths the knife.
Dance practice is cancelled in favour of vocals and Seungmin could almost weep.
But sitting on the sofa of the recording studio waiting for his turn in the booth, he can't help the niggling sensation that this, out of everything, would not be the furthest from the realms of hell. Changbin and Chan are sitting on the chairs with Jisung on his feet doing one last run of the lyrics. The producer hyung scheduled to take them on today has gone out for coffee, while Danceracha has taken advantage of the pause to make a run for the company cafeteria. Which leaves their maknae reclining against the armrest, scrolling on his phone.
There's a buzzing in Seungmin's head. He decides it's something better than the fugue that has played host in his mind for the better part of the day.
"You okay?"
Jeongin's fox eyes watch him from behind black-rimmed glasses. Seungmin offers a smile. It probably falls flat judging the raising of Jeongin's brows. "Just tired, I guess," Seungmin offers.
Their maknae mumbles a response, but Seungmin doesn't quite catch it. Not that he needs to. 3racha calls for him to be the first up in the booth and he rises to do his job.
Time in the booth passes like a slippery eel against the tips of his fingers. He takes on the direction given to him and then puts it into practice. It's good enough, he reckons because he steps back out to see the rest of his members crowding the waiting area with proud smiles on their faces. "Good job, Min-ah," Changbin laughs, moving to wrap him up in a hug. On a bad day, one of Changbin's hugs is the cure to any ills, but today is worse than worst.
He flinches, jumping back as if scalded. Changbin startles, the air immediately going sour with the scent of a rejected omega. Seungmin croaks out a rushed, "Excuse me" and flees, barely managing to grab his bag as he runs out of the studio, ignoring the calls of his mates behind him. Someone, he thinks Jisung, reaches out to grab him by the wrist but he shakes him off with a pained cry. Someone else calls his name but the buzzing rises into a crescendo and he can only focus enough to put one foot in front of the other until his heart doesn't feel like it's about to break right out of his chest.
Seungmin isn't proud of it.
It's easy enough to hide in plain sight and it's something Seungmin becomes adept and almost preternaturally skilled at doing.
A smile and quick deflection, and no one notices the never-ending cuts and bruises on his skin. A simple question to start the ball rolling and no one is asking why he isn't eating. A lie becomes two, becomes three, and soon Seungmin thinks even he believes the bullshit that takes shape on his tongue when he says, "I'm fine."
It's ridiculously easy to slip away.
He hates this.
Seungmin doesn't see anyone for the rest of the day and he is simultaneously grateful and pissed about it.
"Stupid, stupid," He grouses, hitting the heel of his hand to his temple, wincing when the action brings him even more pain for his troubles. Biting down a stuttering exhale, he shoots a text to the managers to tell them he's going to make his own way back. It's late enough. They'd be grateful for the reprieve.
As he takes to the streets, face hidden behind a black face mask, Seungmin infers that this whole mess began when they split the dorms.
Sure, it's not as if they don't see each other every day. They're always in each other's dorms if they're not on their own or at the company. There's always some group activity planned or some impromptu sleepover in one dorm or the other. With Alphas like Hyunjin, Jisung, and Jeongin to circle out Felix and Changbin's Omegas, there's no way anyone can be left to stew or sit alone for too long. And even on the days that aren't together physically, they're on group calls even when doing things like the dishes. The fact that he is in a pack so intertwined with each other, so wrapped up and drenched in love and support should be enough for Seungmin, but it isn't.
It's not enough that his pack is not around him constantly, that he can't reach out to them the instant he wants to. It's not enough that it feels like he is missing parts of himself in ways he cannot explain. It definitely is not enough that Seungmin feels like he is constantly on the edge of breaking apart into a thousand million tiny pieces at the slightest touch.
And that is his problem, his cross to bear.
There's a part of him that knows somehow, that in the grand scheme of things, a pack like theirs really doesn't have a need or use for a Beta. Chan has them all so well-trained that there's really little need to worry about keeping the peace or helping calm their members down through any high-stress situations. In short, they don't need Seungmin.
But even with that certainty, Seungmin allows himself to be mated to them. Even with that truth hanging above his head like a Sword of Damocles, he buys into the lie he tells himself that he is wanted and loved here, that in this pack, there's space for him. That there is use for him. Not when their Omegas are burning up with the fevers of their heat, not when their Alphas are tearing at the seams in the middle of their ruts. Not when all he is good for is to remember to leave food and water outside the pack den for them, waiting like an unwanted puppy as he listens in but can never be a part of them.
He isn't allowed to, he knows that much.
He this time to a gust of wind knocking him sideways. Someone gasps and Seungmin has the presence of mind to realise that ah, his feet are bleeding again. He looks around himself, finding that he's sitting on his window ledge. Heart kicking up a beat, he winces.
"Seungmin-ah, no sudden movements ok?"
Minho's voice is gentle from over his shoulder. "Hyung?" He breathes, his dry eyes watering. "Hyung, what...?"
Careful hands slide around his waist. Someone else gently takes him by the armpits as they pull him back into the room with a grunt. Seungmin lolls his head against a strong shoulder, nosing against the line of a throat with a sigh. The scent of Chan's deep ocean tang fills his lungs. Somewhere above him some curses at the sight of his feet. Seungmin whimpers, curling into himself even when Chan's voice hushes him, fingers curling through his hair.
"You need help."
Seungmin comes back to himself when he feels Chan's fingers brushing away the tears on his cheeks. The press of Changbin's body to his side is the anchor point tethering him to this reality. Distantly, he registers Minho and Felix working on bandaging his feet while Hyunjin and Jisung are quietly puttering away in the kitchen heating up some food. Jeongin is holding onto his hand. Stoic and silent as his eyes watch him cry.
"I'm--"
"If the next word that comes out of you is 'fine', you can shut it," Minho interrupts sharply from where he is gently securing his bandages. Seungmin jolts, only to have Chan and Changbin immediately tightly coddling him between their bodies.
A beat later, Seungmin hears more than feel Minho shuffling closer to his line of sight. "We've been worried about you, pup. You've been pulling away from us and refusing any help. Chan won't say it, but he's probably worn down the carpet in his studio from all his fretting--"
"Hey!"
Seungmin huffs a short wet bark of laughter.
From the kitchen, Hyunjin and Jisung walk back into the living room. Hyunjin slides his arms around Seungmin's shoulders, brushing a kiss the side of his head. "You don't have to tell us if you don't want to. But we want to help. You're our mate, our darling Beta. It hurts us when we don't know what's wrong."
A throb of doubt blossoms in his chest. Does it though? He's not sure. He doesn't even know if he wants to know.
"First thing tomorrow, I'm taking you to the doctor's. We'll get you checked out a-and--"
"And then what?" Seungmin manages. The words slur on his tongue but it's heard. Chan's warm hands come to cup at the sides of his head and tilt his face to look right at him. His leader, his Alpha, his mate looks right into his eyes and quietly cries.
"And we get you help. We'll be here. Every step of the way, if you want us there, just please," Chan takes him by the hand not held by Jeongin. Brushing a kiss to the back of his knuckles, he looks up imploringly. "Okay?"
Seungmin wants to say 'no'. He wants to twist away and bury himself away from the care and warmth of his pack. But something stays his hand, something fixes him to where he is held and comforted in the care of his pack.
So, he says, "Okay." And hopes that this at least will be reason enough to try.