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‘You failed’ was the first thought that raced through Chan's head as he sat staring, looking but not seeing, at the white hospital ceiling above him.
You failed, and look at what you did. You made your kids see you at your worst, you forced them to clean up, you made them report your body. How much worse could a person be?
The thoughts swirled around and around in Chan's head, sticking to his brain and making him feel like he was suffocating in a river of worries. The feeling was made worse by the fact that his hands and bandaged arms were restrained at his sides, trapped down to the white, infuriatingly clean hospital bed.
Chan knew, bitterly and regretfully, that they were there to prevent him from hurting himself again. That he had broken the trust of his members and they could not rely on him to keep his own body safe, so they had to tie his hands down.
His entire body hurt, but the feeling of knowing, with absolute certainty, that his members didn't trust him anymore hurt worse–it stung deeply, digging into his skin and embedding into his bones.
His racing, wild thoughts were interrupted when a nurse entered his room, carefully closing the door behind her and giving him a short but pity-filled smile that he absolutely hated with his entire being.
“Hello, Bang-ssi. I'm just going to check your vitals. If they're stable, we can allow visitors into your room. This won't take long,” she assured him concisely, brown eyes watching him with sympathy.
Chan simply nodded at her, not trusting himself to speak just yet, and returned to his ceiling-watching. He felt the nurse take his blood pressure and pulse, among other things, but couldn't find it in himself to actually care about the results.
Maybe it would be better if my vitals weren't stable-
“Alright. Thank you for your patience, Bang-ssi. Everything seems normal, but I'm going to hook you up to more fluids and then we can let visitors in. Does that sound alright, honey?” she asked after she had finished bustling around the room, checking monitors and fussing over equipment and also putting a pitcher of water and a glass on his bedside table.
Once again, Chan nodded, head knocking into his soft pillow, and the nurse gave him that sad smile once again as she grabbed a bag filled with clear fluids and started attaching it to the IV connected to a vein in his arm, replacing the previous bag.
“Okay. Just one more thing. Before I allow visitors in, do you want visitors right now, Bang-ssi? You don't have to respond right away. I want your truthful answer, please,” the nurse instructed, and Chan looked at her, startled, before pondering her question.
Did he want visitors? Well, last time his members had seen him, he had been trying to kill himself, so maybe some talking would help?
Maybe they don't even want to see you, dumbass. Who says you have any visitors in the first place? Even if you do, they're probably just obligated to visit. How dare you assume that they want to see you-
“ Bang-ssi?”
“I–sorry,” he forced out, voice dry and crackling painfully. Before he spoke again, he took a swig of water from the nearby cup, taking the brief moment of silence to compose himself and gather his scattered thoughts.
“Yeah, I think…I think that visitors would be fine. Thank you, noona,” he hurriedly tacked onto the end of his sentence. Even if he hated the pity she was clearly exuding, he didn't hate her enough to stop being courteous.
“Alright. If you're sure,” she said after looking at him for a second, trying to figure out if he was actually telling the truth. “Just one person at a time, though,” and Chan didn't have the energy to argue with her on that.
With that, she exited the room, her short heels clicking on the ground as she walked away.
And then Chan was left with his thoughts, again.
Was that the wrong choice? Almost definitely.
Do they want to see me? Probably not.
What if they're mad at you? They probably are. Scratch that, they definitely are.
Shaking his head in a futile attempt to take the thoughts away, Chan chose to start formulating his apology. He knew it wasn't enough; he would likely never be able to make up for what he did, but he could at least fix things on a superficial level. Hopefully.
His hands unconsciously twitched, and Chan was once again reminded of his restraints, of his broken bonds, the shattered trust-
“Channie-hyung?” a meek voice said, and he recognized that voice. He desperately didn't want it to be the person he was thinking of, but at the same time he wanted it to be him more than anything else.
“...Felix?”
“Channie-hyung,” and that one was closer to a sob than words, and suddenly a body was flying towards his bed, stopping at the railing but still being as close as possible without breaking any barriers.
Chan opened and closed his mouth, his clinical apology completely forgotten at the sight of the sobbing boy in front of him. His boy.
He instinctively reached towards Felix, desperate to sooth him, to wipe the tears streaming down his face and over his gorgeous freckles, but was once again restrained by his bonds.
He saw the moment Felix noticed them too, saw the way his eyes widened, saw the way a flood of tears fell out of his eyes as he sobbed louder, giving into his body’s desperate plea and burying his face in Chan’s chest, arms coming to gingerly wrap around him, careful to not jostle or disturb anything.
“Felix,” he repeated, stupidly, because what else was he supposed to say when his baby was sobbing uncontrollably into his chest? Your baby that you made hold your bleeding body-
“I thought you were gone,” Felix forced out, words jumbled and barely audible from where his face was still smashed into Chan. “I thought I was going to have to hold you as you bled out, as you grew cold as life left you and I knew it would have been my fault. I thought –” he cut himself off with another choked sob, trembling from his spot on top of Chan.
“Oh, baby…” he started and faltered again, unsure of what the proper next steps were. He settled for a weak, “Hyung is so, so sorry, Lix. I'm sorry, and it was my fault, and I never should have put any of you through any of that and this is hyung's fault, alright? It is not your fault,” he repeated firmly, because this was his mistake and he could not, absolutely would not let one of his boys blame themselves for his doing.
“No- hyung…” Felix trailed off, deciding that words were useless and once again burrowing into Chan. His cries had subsided, but his body still shook with residual tremors and his face was streaked with tears. Chan once again wished with his whole being that he could hold or even reciprocate Felix’s touch, but he couldn’t, and that hurt him more than he would care to say.
“How are the other kids doing?” Chan settled for asking, because he couldn’t stand Felix crying on his chest and him not doing something to maybe help his boy.
Felix lifted his face up, wiping his face messily with his hand and taking a deep, calming breath before answering. “They’re…holding up, I guess. We were all so shaken up…” He looked away briefly, seemingly composing himself before continuing. “Minho-hyung has kind of stepped into his leader role in your absence, but things…aren’t the same. We all just want you back, so, so bad.”
And wow, that didn’t help at all, leaving Chan feeling gutted and absolutely horrible for knowing that he had abandoned his kids, leaving them to pick up his shattered pieces while also trying to keep their own from falling out and making them crumble.
A silence settled over the pair again, Chan too scared to risk asking anything that might reveal more heart-breaking information about his kids, feeling pretty overloaded from all his emotions at the moment.
So he didn’t.
Neither of them spoke for around 10 minutes, until Felix gently lifted himself up from his position. “I guess I should leave and let the next person come see you, hyung,” Felix said dryly, trying for a smile but falling short.
Chan looked at him, startled. “There’s…they’re…all here?” he asked meekly. “They want to see me? Actually?”
Felix stared at him for a moment before responding. “...What do you mean, hyung? Of course they all want to see you! You were whisked away so quickly, and none of us could come with you in the ambulance, and we have so many questions.”
“No, I meant…they don’t hate me enough to not see me?” Chan explained, shrinking backwards a little, scared of Felix’s response.
“Of course not, hyung! We would never, ever hate you enough to stop talking with you. Now, I’ll be on my way; knowing the other members, Minho-hyung is probably the next in line,” Felix said, slowly removing himself and leaving Chan desperately wishing that his warmth would hold him again. Chan could do nothing but watch as Felix exited the room after giving him a peck on his forehead, slowly leaving and walking down the hall.
They don’t hate me.
The thought was enough to bring tears to his eyes, and he desperately tried to blink them away.
“Now, now, hyung, what are the tears for?” a voice said, and Chan whipped his head towards the door, seeing…
“Minho?”
“Yeah, it’s me, hyung,” Minho said, approaching the bed wearing another sad smile. Chan was, frankly, getting tired of those smiles. “How are you feeling?”
“Like crap,” Chan responded instantly, and Minho barked a laugh.
“Yeah, you look like it.”
No one said anything after that, leaving the pair just looking at each other, one in a bed and the other perched on the side of the mattress.
“Lix was really going through it, you know,” Minho eventually murmured. “He kept sobbing and looking down at his hands, even long after he had washed the blood off.” The your blood went unsaid, but it still made Chan give a sad exhale.
“I know. He tried, at the end, to piece himself back together, but I know him too well. No one’s really doing well, are they?” he asked, pretty much knowing the answer but needing Minho to confirm his suspicions.
“...Yeah. That night was…awful. It was so bad, Chan-hyung. Felix and Jisung both had multiple panic attacks and that left everyone’s nerves so frayed. The maknaes are actually acting their age, even Seungmin, for once, but that means that the older ones have to take care of them more. Changbin and Hyunjin are trying to hold it together, for their sakes, but everyone is at their wits’ ends. It’s…yeah, it’s bad,” Minho admitted, and he must have seen some kind of change in Chan’s face, because he scooted closer, face soft but determined. And there it was, the question Chan was dreading but knew was inevitable. Just three letters, but enough to shake his world. “Why?”
And that was the problem, wasn’t it? Because Chan didn’t really know why. He didn’t know why he started dissociating throughout the day. He didn’t know why his thoughts took such a dark turn. He didn’t know why he knew there was glass in the cabinet, he didn’t know why he started dragging violent red lines up and down his arms, he didn’t know why he tried to kill himself.
“I don’t know,” he tried, looking down. “I…don’t know.”
Minho frowned, clearly not accepting his answer. “What’s going on in that genius head of yours, hyung?” he asked, momentarily making Chan snort a laugh at the word ‘genius.’
“I don’t know, really. I just…I was thinking a lot, but the thoughts were darker and then I got so overwhelmed and everything became too much. I don’t remember most of it, to be honest. I just don’t know,” and now frustrated tears were starting to build in his eyes but he couldn’t wipe them away, his hands still restrained. Minho did it for him, wiping them away in a show of gentleness that Chan rarely saw around anyone. Looking up at him questioningly, Minho only offered a sweet smile in return.
“Once you return, because you will, we’re going to have a talk. All 8 of us,” he said.
Chan nodded, “I know. I figured. Just…don’t say anything to the maknaes? Well, maybe a little information, just to calm them down, but I really don’t want them knowing everything we talked about just yet. They’re not ready.”
Minho stared at him for a long second, like he was judging Chan silently, before nodding. “Okay. I won’t. I might tell them a little, like you said, just to placate them, but that also means that you have to bring it up yourself when we have our big meeting later. Can I trust you to do that, hyung?”
And then Minho was looking at him with such a sad, pleading gaze, and Chan couldn’t do anything but nod, throat closing up in sorrow. “I will, Min. I will, hyung promises.”
Minho nodded in satisfaction before leaning forward to give a soft kiss to his cheek, chuckling quietly at Chan’s flustered face. “I’ll tell the rest of the boys to cool it a bit. I can tell you’re running out of steam, but I can also tell that they are not going to wait another day before talking with you. We’ll get through this, hyung. I promise,” Minho said as his parting words, and Chan gave him a small smile in return, watching as his back exited the doorframe, suddenly feeling not so alone anymore.
***
It seemed like whatever short talk Minho had with the other members had worked, as they all came into his room, one after the other, talking with him but not prodding or pushing. And it was nice, knowing that he wasn’t expected to answer such deep questions about himself that he probably couldn’t answer anyways. It was nice to just chat mindlessly with them, even though a couple of them were crying when they came into his room and he had to comfort them.
At the end of the day, they all poked their heads into his room and waved goodnight, and Chan smiled at them in return, hoping desperately that they could feel how much he truly loved them, even though he couldn’t express it normally.
And then the kind nurse--Chimu, Chan was told was her name--came back into his room, fiddling with the equipment, giving him food and water, and wishing him a goodnight as well before she left too, and Chan fell asleep feeling a sense of hope he hadn’t experienced in quite a while.
***
Chan stayed in the hospital recovering for the next 4 days. His members visited him every day, often leaving flowers and cards, and he grew closer with Chimu, feeling more positive and chatting with her.
Chan was glad that he was feeling better; he knew that his sad attitude affected his kids, no matter how they tried to hide it. But now they were talking more freely, and Chan loved seeing their natural smiles gracing their features more often. Chan felt like he could talk with them without crumbling inside anymore, and that made him hopeful for his recovery.
Then, on the fifth day in the hospital, he finally got the news he had been waiting for since day one.
Chimu came into his room with a clipboard, and Chan’s guard was instantly up a little higher, suspicious. But then she looked at him and her face broke out in a grin. “You’ve been cleared for discharge. You can go home, Bang-ssi.”
Chan couldn’t breathe. He could go home? He didn’t have to stay in the hospital? He could see his boys? “I…really?” he dared ask, scared that this was some cruel trick or something.
“Yes. I have your discharge papers right here. You can go back to your boys,” Chimu told him, and as she undid his restraints (which he had gotten used to and had actually not tried to escape in a while), Chan let a few tears slip down his face.
He could go home. He could see his boys again. He knew he would have to have ‘the talk’ with them, but in the moment, that didn’t matter. What mattered was that he wouldn’t be separated from the other 7 pieces of his soul.
The restrained fell off and Chan instantly lifted his arms, wiping at his face. “I…thank you, noona. Thank you,” he said to Chimu, bowing to her as much as he could in his bed. She laughed and waved him off.
“I’m not doing anything special, Bang-ssi. I was just the bearer of good news. If anything, you should be proud of yourself for taking the necessary time to heal,” she responded, looking at him warmly, and Chan looked away, a bit flustered.
“Still. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me, noona.”
“I just can’t win, can I?” she lamented jokingly, making Chan crack a grin. “Well, then, if only to placate you, you’re welcome, Bang-ssi. It was my pleasure to assist you.”
Minho suddenly poked his head into the room. He looked at the pair, flustered. “Is this a bad time? I can go…”
“No, no, Minho, it’s fine,” Chan assured him, wiping his hands over his face one more time before opening his arms wide. Minho ran into them, relaxing against his hyung’s chest and taking a deep breath of relief.
Chimu watched the two fondly, letting them have their moment, before she cleared her throat, still holding her clipboard. “Before Bang-ssi goes home with you, Lee-ssi, I just wanted to tell you some of the basics to make sure Chan is cared for appropriately,” she said, glancing down at the papers on the board before looking back up at them.
“I--yes, of course, noona,” Minho said, releasing Chan from his hug and turning to her to give her his undivided attention.
“As you can see, Bang-ssi’s arms are still covered in bandages. The bleeding has stopped and his body has mostly recovered, but I would still recommend keeping the appendages covered or wrapped to prevent the urge to itch or scratch that Bang-ssi will most likely feel. Above all, please try to ensure that he does not reopen any wounds, like the gashes on his arms, or try to draw blood again. I would also recommend putting Bang-ssi in therapy, though that is not my decision to make,” Chimu continued before looking back up at Minho. “Though, besides those things, once you sign his discharge papers, Bang-ssi is free to go.”
She presented Minho with a pen and the man walked over to her, taking it and briefly reading over the papers before signing in neat, black ink at the bottom of the page.
“Well,” Chimu said, smiling once more, “I wish you boys all the best. I suppose this is goodbye, but may you have all the blessings you deserve. Thank you once more, Bang-ssi and Lee-ssi.” She bowed to the pair and they reciprocated it, Minho making sure to bow low to express his gratitude.
Once the kind woman had left the room, Minho turned to Chan, a few tears running down his face, and said the words Chan had been wanting so desperately to hear.
“Let’s go home, hyung.”