Work Text:
Beomgyu stared at the growing puddle of water around his feet. Why wasn't there a towel? There was supposed to be a towel. He didn't know why this bothered him so much, but as the puddle grew, his mind had trouble staying in the present. The water seemed to turn red in an instant, and the tile of the bathroom floor blurred out until it changed into the vinyl of a practice room floor.
He hated moments like these, where past and present blend together, an indistinguishable mass of colours, sound and an all consuming feeling of pain. There was still a part of him aware of the fact that he was not standing in a practice room, that Soobin was not lying on the ground in front of him, that he should not be feeling pain right now. One shuttering breath later-
Beomgyu lay on his back winded, the tumble he had taken with Soobin stealing all the breath from his lungs. For a few moments he stared at the practice room ceiling, wondering how this seemingly simple step that they had been working on together had somehow managed to, quite literally, knock them off their feet. The other three members had gone to find snacks, but they had been delayed, so he had convinced Soobin to get back up off his feet and continue dancing.
It took a few moments, but Beomgyu finally drew in enough breath to sit up and open his eyes. The sight of Soobin lying there, blood pooling under his head was enough to send Beomgyu's head spinning and his heart racing. He knew he should have realized something was off when Soobin didn't immediately apologize like he normally did whenever he made a mistake or anything bad happened.
In less than a second, Beomgyu was kneeling by Soobin’s side, hands poised above his head, fluttering about uncertainly. His brain was short circuiting, making him unable to act. There were times when Beomgyu wished he was not himself. It was in the times that he needed to be strong, that all sense left him. It was the times when he needed to focus that his brain strayed to places it should not go. So as Soobin lay in a growing pool of blood, all Beomgyu could do was stare, wondering what would happen if he died. It took maybe ten times longer than it should have, but Beomgyu's hand made a decision. Mind you, it was not the right decision—throwing his palm down into his hyung's blood—but it got him functioning again as he registered that this was happening and was not some figment of his imagination, some hallucination or haunting phantom come to wreak havoc on his psyche.
Beomgyu frantically patted his pockets in search of his phone, but then remembered that it was in his bag which was in the locker room. He abandoned the search for his phone and instead shrugged himself out of his jacket, moving to prop Soobin's head up into his lap. His hand went into Soobin's hair, fingering through it to locate the origin of the blood that continued to flow out and over his hand. Within seconds his hand was so covered in blood he could not think straight because of fear.
Logically, Beomgyu knew that even minor head injuries bled profusely, but his brain could only function enough to tell him that bleeding was bad and there was a lot of blood coming out of Soobin's head. He snapped out of his panic when his fingers felt the split in the skin at the back of Soobin's scalp. He brought his jacket up to the gash in an attempt to staunch the flow of blood. His hands were shaking so badly by this point that he was unsure whether he was putting enough pressure on the wound. Additionally, he had no real sense of how much time had passed since they fell. In his head, he knew that it hadn't been long, but it felt like an eternity.
He hadn't noticed the tears streaming down his face or the desperate pleas he had been mumbling, "Soobin-ah, wake up! Hyung! Open your eyes! Make the blood stop!"
The door to the practice room was flung open and Kai, Taehyun, and Yeonjun's laughing voices echoed in the small practice room as they sauntered in, pushing each other around as they joked around.
It was Kai who first stumbled to a stop, his face paling at an alarming rate. The others glanced at him, concerned, and then their eyes followed his gaze. For a moment the room was paralyzed, and then all hell broke loose. The members raced over to the pair on the floor, a phone pressed to Taehyun's ear as Yeonjun immediately took control of the situation, shifting Soobin onto his lap, panic in his eyes. Beomgyu just sat, watching numbly, barely aware of Kai's loud sobs as he pressed himself into his hyung's side.
Before he could register everything that was happening, paramedics were wheeling Soobin out of the room on a stretcher, followed closely by a visibly distraught Yeonjun. Taehyun, Kai, and Beomgyu were left alone in the practice room, frozen in various positions. Taehyun was standing, facing the door, shoulders shaking as he broke down in tears after being strong for so long. Kai had not moved from his position, pressed into Beomgyu's side. Beomgyu sat, kneeling, arms still outstretched, frozen in the same position he had been in since the other members had entered the room. Tears ran down his face in a silent stream and he could not tear his eyes from the puddle of blood on the ground. As he watched, the puddle seemed to grow and expand, until he felt like he could drown in the amount of blood covering the floor.
Breathing became difficult, his vision a red blur, but he pushed the hysteria he felt building inside of himself down. There would be time for this later.
It was their manager who broke them out of their respective states. They entered the room, taking in the condition of the group and quietly approached Taehyun, laying a hand on his shoulder and squeezing gently. Taehyun's head jerked up and he immediately brought up an arm to swipe the tears off his face with his sleeve. The manager began talking with him, convincing him to wash up, eat some of the snacks they had just bought and then head over to the hospital. Taehyun began moving again, looking as if his limbs were weighed down by an invisible load.
Next the manager made his way over to Beomgyu and Kai. Beomgyu glanced up at him through his skunk-striped hair, finally able to tear his eyes aways from the pool of blood that seemed to bubble with life and speak of death. His eyes were fastened to his manager’s face with desperation, the need for instruction filling him like never before.
There are certain traits that make people level-headed in difficult situations. Beomgyu did not possess a single one of these traits other than perseverance. He was absolutely useless when it came to dealing with others around him being hurt unless it was something minor that he knew he could deal with.
So his eyes clung to his manager (a reflection of his heart and psyche). The tears continued to flow down his face, but his breathing slowed by the slightest degree.
The manager crouched next to him and turned to Kai.
“Huening-Kai-nim, look at me for a minute,” they said, briefly touching Kai’s hand, but not lingering, unsure about how much affection the young boy was willing to accept.
Kai rubbed his face on Beomgyu’s shirt before lifting his head. The maknae looked up at their manager, his eyes pooled with tears and his cute nose scrunched up and dripping.
Kai was handed a tissue which he used to wipe his face, dabbing the corners of his eyes with a shaking hand. His breathing gradually slowed and he stopped crying, crumpling his tissue into a tight fist.
Beomgyu felt stupid to be the only one in the room left crying, but for the life of him he could not keep the silent tears from pushing their way out of his eyes and etching tracks down his cheeks. His heart felt like an empty void, and yet it ached. It was a strange feeling; he hadn’t known that even empty space could bring pain. He refused to accept the facts of what happened, instead pushing them from his mind and body in the form of tears.
Kai and Taehyun were heading out the door, making their way to the bathroom to wash up before leaving for the hospital. At their movement, Beomgyu realized that he had zoned out yet again, eyes open, but unseeing. A slight embarrassment filled him and he glanced up, hoping no one had noticed.
Beomgyu’s eyes refocused to see his manager reaching down with a hand to help him up. Their expression was pulled tight in a concerned look and Beomgyu realized with shame that he must have been staring at their face, eyes unfocused, for some time now.
Reaching for his manager’s hand, he was surprised when they suddenly recoiled, retracting the proffered hand, their gaze fixed on his fingers which were suspended in the air between them.
His gaze followed their’s and he was startled at the sight of his blood covered hand. Reality hit him and he gasped in a breath, heart rate going wild as he lost control of his breathing. It was almost like, until now, he had been watching the happenings as if they were scenes from a kdrama; as if he were a spectator on the sidelines, not one of the main characters in this storyline. The avoidance of reality had been effective in the short term, but now reality slapped him in the face as he stared at the offending appendage.
His panic turned manic as he tried to get his hands away. His fingernails gouged into his palms in an attempt to scratch off the browning red layer that coated his hands. If the blood was gone maybe that would mean that this was all not real. Maybe it would mean that he could look up and see a room clean of blood.
His effort increased at the thought, but all that produced was a reminder that this was indeed real, as fresh blood dripped onto the floor from the deep grooves he scratched into his palms with his fingernails.
His manager worked to ground him, crouching down in front of him and grabbing his face, forcing him to look in their eyes as soothing platitudes poured off their tongue. On a surface level, their efforts were successful as Beomgyu’s gaze was distracted from the bloodstained hands, but inside of him a piece of Beomgyu’s heart lay shattered by the heavy weight of an image he knew that he would never forget and the pieces of it chafed; a constant reminder.
He managed to drag himself off the ground and head to the bathroom to wash his hyung’s blood off his hands. His manager trailed behind, brows furrowed. They rushed ahead of Beomgyu each time he reached a door to open it, as if they knew his hands could not be allowed to contaminate any part of the outside world. This act, however well-intentioned, caused him to glance at his hands, driving the pieces of his broken heart deeper into his chest.
As Beomgyu watched the red liquid flow off his hands and swirl down the drain, a sharp twisting feeling grew behind his ribs, causing him to clutch at his chest. He looked to the others for support, but Kai and Taehyun were busy washing their faces. When Kai looked up, Beomgyu made eye contact with him, expecting his maknae to immediately notice that something was up with him and come to comfort him just like normal.
Kai looked away, checking his reflection in the mirror, and Beomgyu’s heart broke just a little more, something he had not thought was possible. The comfort he normally relied on from his members seemed absent as they were all consumed in their own pain. He wished Kai would act all clingy like he usually did in tense situations, but something about this whole ordeal seemed to be different, and the maknae kept to himself.
He wanted to go to his members and give them the comfort he felt he needed, but something held him back. It was as if there was a small voice in his head telling him that his dongsaengs would not appreciate comfort from the person who was responsible for their pain.
If only he hadn’t pushed Soobin to keep practicing. If only he had gotten a proper sleep last night so that he wouldn’t have fallen. If only he was a better dancer who didn’t make mistakes in the first place.
Kai and Taehyun finished washing their faces and Beomgyu turned his tap off, his body unintentionally imitating them as he went into autopilot, completing the actions mindlessly.
Before he knew what was happening he was being pushed toward a separate vehicle than Kai and Tae. He vaguely registered something about them heading to the hospital while he went to the dorms to change out his blood-soaked clothes and shower.
A conflicted feeling arose in him as he fought the urge to chase after the other vehicle, desperate to get to the hospital and check on how Soobin was doing. At the same time, something held him back. It was a feeling that he couldn’t quite name, spoken by a voice he knew he shouldn’t listen to, but it lay somewhere between self-loathing and self-preservation.
On one hand he knew that he had hurt Soobin and he hated himself for it. He wanted to punish himself for it, but he didn’t want to end up hurting the other members in doing so.
On the other hand he knew that if he went to the hospital something inside him would break at the sight of his leader lying broken in a hospital bed and everything he was holding inside would come rushing out. Soobin didn’t deserve that. He shouldn’t have to deal with the person who hurt him so soon after the event. He knew his hyung would comfort him and tell him that it wasn’t his fault because that is the type of person he is. If he was even alive or coherent.
He would leave Soobin to the other members to be comforted by them. He’d have to see him soon enough anyway, and it was better to have his emotions under control before then.
The van stopped in front of their dorm building and Beomgyu climbed out, making his way up the stairs and entering the dorm alone after receiving instructions about how to care for the cuts he had self-inflicted on his hands.
The silence hit him like a wall and he slid down the front door until he was huddled just inside the threshold, a shivering heap, much too small for his five foot eleven frame as he collapsed in on himself.
He sat trembling, wondering why the silence felt so cold. If only the other members had been there the air would have been filled with the warmth of their love as they joked around.
He wanted to attribute the cold feeling to the fact that he no longer wore his jacket after using it to staunch the flow of blood from Soobin’s head, but he knew physical temperature had nothing to do with it. This was a mental game, and he was losing miserably.
From where his head was pressed against his knees all he could smell was the stench of blood.
He jerked back and his eyes focussed on the red handprints all over his clothes, a souvenir of his search for his cellphone. As his eyes continued down to take in the blood-soaked state of his pants, an itching feeling crawled across his skin.
His hands found their way to his waist and before Beomgyu knew what he was doing, his clothes lay in a heap several feet away and he stood breathing hard, his eyes fixed on the offending articles.
The crawling feeling moved up his legs and throughout his whole body. A cry was ripped from his lips and he rushed to the bathroom, climbing into the shower as he turned it on, the cold water hitting him straight in the face.
He scrubbed at his body with hands, sobs wracking his body as the water swirled red down the drain.
He didn’t know how long he stayed standing in the shower, washing his skin over and over again with soap, but he did know that the water had long turned from pink to clear and his skin ached as it was rubbed raw.
He brought a hand up to finger his long tangled hair and he was immediately transported back to the moment where he was sitting beside Soobin, hand in his hair, searching for his wound.
The water running through Beomgyu’s hair seemed to turn to blood as the past and present blended. He immediately doubled over, desperately reaching to switch the water off.
Beomgyu stumbled out of the shower and stared at the growing puddle of water around his feet.
+x+
Beomgyu opened his eyes, drawing in his first full breath since the flashback started.
He leaned his head back against the wall behind him as he realized that he was crouched down in a corner of the bathroom in a puddle of water. Slowly, he registered more of his state. He was shivering. This time from the cold, not some internal force.
Beomgyu pulled his bathrobe off a wall hook, a wave of exhaustion hitting him. It was all he could do to pull it on before stumbling to his room and collapsing into his bed, sleep gloriously taking him.
+x+
Beomgyu woke to the sound of breathing. For a moment he lay peacefully, listening as the other members’ sleep noises drifted to his ears. It brought him a measure of comfort.
Sunlight filtered through the window and warmed his toes as it fell across them.
He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, bringing his hands to his head as a sharp pain shot through it, a result of all his crying yesterday. He began to massage his temples, abandoning the task when he realized just how thirsty he was.
Beomgyu made his way to the kitchen, slowly padding his way down the carpeted hallway.
As he neared the kitchen he was made aware of small sounds coming from it. Stepping through the doorway, a strange feeling began to grow in the pit of his stomach. It felt as if he had drunk a heavily caffeinated beverage right before a big stage. Nerves, he realized.
In the kitchen, Yeonjun stood by the stove, ladle in hand as he made ramen for breakfast. The smell caused Beomgyu’s stomach to churn even more.
Beomgyu waited in the doorway until Yeonjun turned, startling as he noticed his dongsaeng standing just outside of the kitchen.
“Ahh! Gyu, you scared me!” Yeonjun exclaimed, his hand coming to rest on his chest.
Beomgyu ignored his hyung and wandered into the kitchen, moving toward the cupboard to get a glass out. As he passed Yeonjun, the older reached out and grabbed him in a headlock, “Ignoring me, are you? Is that how you respect your elders?”
The moment he felt his hyung’s arm wrapped around his neck something akin to panic flooded through him. He pushed Yeonjun away with more force than he meant to, causing him to stumble back and collide with the counter behind him.
“Don’t touch me,” Beomgyu’s voice broke on the words and he almost ran from the room. He didn’t turn back or he would have seen the shock and concern radiating from Yeonjun’s face. Instead his mind constructed his worst fears. He imagined his hyung getting close enough to him that Beomgyu would inadvertently hurt him, causing him to hate him forever. Just like Soobin probably did.
Beomgyu locked himself in the bathroom and turned on the sink, splashing himself with water. He told himself that the water dripping down his face was just that; water. That was a lie, though, and he knew it, especially when he felt heat against his cheeks and breathing became more difficult.
A knock on the door startled him and he quickly grabbed a washcloth to wipe his face with.
"Beoms, you okay in there?" He stood in shock for a minute and then rushed to the door, flinging it open to embrace a startled Soobin.
He hadn't expected Soobin to be home. He thought he'd be lying in a hospital bed, barely clinging to life, but here he was, feeling very real in Beomgyu's arms.
He inhaled his hyung's scent, basking in the rightness of the world. In the rightness of everything.
Beomgyu was so happy he couldn't control himself and burrowed his face into Soobin's neck, laying down a wet kiss.
He felt Soobin stiffen and panicked. Why did he think his hyung would want affection from him? He was the one who had hurt him. He didn't deserve comfort.
Pulling away, Beomgyu kept his head low, "Sorry, Hyung. I'm glad you're okay," he whispered and turned away to trudge back to his room, wishing he could fall asleep again and wake up yesterday morning so he could make everything right.
+x+
When Beomgyu finally managed to wander out of his room again, he found Kai by the front door, picking up what seemed to be clothes that were scattered around.
When he turned and saw Beomgyu watching him, he walked over and shoved the articles into Beomgyu's arms. "Here, take care of your own clothes. Why'd you even leave them out in the first place?"
Beomgyu searched his memory for why his clothes would be lying haphazardly around the front door. It took him a moment before he realized. Last night…
"I couldn't find the laundry basket," His excuse sounded weak, even to his own ears.
Kai just shrugged and bounced off, tossing a, "at least put them in a pile next time," over his shoulder.
Beomgyu sighed, picking up the rest of his clothes, and dumped them in the laundry basket that was right where it was supposed to be.
He was about to turn away when a flash of red caught his eye. A pant leg stared up at him, taunting him with the layer of dried blood that coated it.
He stumbled back, his hand finding a towel on the counter behind him and he gripped it, flinging it forward to cover the pile of clothes he had thrown into the laundry basket.
He breathed heavily, slumping forward and grabbing his hair with his hands. Why was this so hard? He didn’t have a fear of blood, but every time he saw it, it brought him back to that moment he was all alone with Soobin in the practice room and all the fear and uncertainty came rushing back in a flood that made him feel like he was there in that moment.
That was how Taehyun found him, the usually smiling boy breathing heavily, his face scrunched up in a way that screamed for help.
“Hey Gyu, what’s wrong?” He didn’t get a response, but his eyes followed the older’s gaze until it rested on the laundry basket.
Confused, the younger strode toward it, wondering why a laundry basket might put his hyung in this state.
As he went to lift the towel from on top, he was stopped by Beomgyu flying forward and gripping his arm in a death-grip, “Please don’t!”
Beomgyu didn’t know what had urged him to stop his dongsaeng, but at the shocked look on Taehyun’s face he quickly released his arm and stumbled back.
Taehyun shot him a questioning look and he turned to flee, unable and unwilling to explain what had happened.
A hand shot out and grabbed his arm and he panicked, twisting until he was free.
He heard Taehyun yell after him as he ran to his room and slammed the door shut, tears running down his face. Why couldn’t he act normal? Why couldn’t he go on as if nothing had happened? Why? Why? Why?
He knew he was spiralling, but he couldn’t stop himself and he slid down the door, clawing at his throat as he fought to breathe, choking on his tears. His heart pounded and he could feel blood pulsing throughout his body until he was surrounded by a pounding in his head.
It barely even registered within him when the door was pushed open and he was vaulted forward into a tumble.
A warmth began to spread through Beomgyu as he was scooped into someone’s lap. He was vaguely aware of his shirt being removed. Still struggling to breathe, a voice broke through the pounding in his head, “Hey, Gyu-ah! Breathe! Come on! With me. In, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four.”
His hands were on something hard and warm that moved in a way that calmed him.
Beomgyu shuttered in a breath, collapsing onto what he realized was a chest. As he began to breathe more freely a hand found its way into his hair and began to gently rub his scalp.
“That’s good. Keep breathing Beomie. That’s it,” coaxed Soobin from his position under Beomgyu.
After a few minutes Beomgyu finally looked up and found all his members crouched down, surrounding him, faces clouded with concern. Unsure, he just looked at them, wondering what would happen. Wondering what they would do. Wondering what they would say. Honestly, he just wanted it to be short so he could climb into bed and not move for at least a few hours.
Taehyun broke the silence. “Hyung, what’s going on? Why did you panic like that?”
Beomgyu sighed and buried his face in Soobin’s neck as the older answered for him, “Can’t we save this for later? Gyu’s probably super exhausted now.”
The others grumbled, but left.
Soobin moved to get up and Beomgyu whined, not wanting to give up the physical contact just yet. Beomgyu almost panicked as he realized who he was pushing his affection onto, but the older just laughed and grabbed him around the waist. Beomgyu wrapped his legs around his hyung, hesitant but relieved, as he was picked up and carried the short distance to his bed.
They cuddled together until Beomgyu fell asleep.
+x+
Beomgyu woke to the heat of a few bodies surrounding him. He sighed in contentment and shifted to wrap his arms around the nearest form, which happened to be Yeonjun.
The older hummed and opened his eyes, “You awake, Beoms?”
Beomgyu just mumbled something incoherent and squeezed himself closer to his hyung, draping a leg over him.
Slowly, everyone began to stir until they were all awake. No one bothered to get up, too comfortable and sleepy in their impromptu cuddle pile.
“Can we talk now?” mumbled Taehyun. No one seemed to move until Beomgyu nodded his head and Yeonjun verbalized his answer for him.
“So, Aegi, what’s wrong?” Soobin asked, moving to run his hand through the strands of Beomgyu’s hair.
Beomgyu shuddered, unsure where to start.
“It’s okay, Gyu, take your time,” murmured Kai.
“It’s just that you, you were bleeding and I didn’t know what to do, and I thought you were going to die and there was blood everywhere and then you were gone and I didn’t know if I'd ever see you again,” once he started, he couldn’t stop.
Soobin sat up and pulled him from Yeonjun’s arms, “Hey, it’s okay Beoms! I'm right here and I’m just fine, okay?”
“I know, I just, I hurt you hyung and I don’t like hurting you and you deserve better,” He did know when he had started crying, but tears flowed down his face.
“Gyu, what do you mean? You didn’t do anything, okay?”
“But I, I made you practice more and I tripped and knocked you over-”
“Stop it Gyu! Sure, you wanted to keep going, but we would have kept dancing whether you started it or I did, and I remember what happened perfectly, which was not you knocking me over! I stumbled over my own feet and brought you down with me! If anything, I’m at fault!”
Beomgyu began to sob, “You mean I didn’t hurt you?” Hope shone through his voice.
The others converged on him, crushing him as they reassured him that it wasn’t his fault and that everything was okay.
They stayed like that, cuddling, until Yeonjun noticed the state of Beomgyu’s unbandaged hands and the boys were all jolted as their hyung ran to get the first aid kit.
Beomgyu giggled when they fought over who would get to do the honours of applying the bandages.
+x+
It was a while before everything went back to normal and even longer before the sight of blood no longer triggered flashbacks, but throughout everything he had four boys to lean on. Four boys who promised to go with him wherever he went and love him no matter what. Four boys who promised to be honest with him in every circumstance. Four boys he would love forever.
Five boys who would seize their future together.