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The sky hung low and gray over the outdoor arena, a thick blanket of clouds promising rain that hadn't yet fallen. Chan pulled his black hoodie tighter around himself, the fabric soft and worn from countless wears, as a gust of wind cut across the empty seats surrounding the stage. October in Seoul could be unforgiving, especially in an open-air venue with no shelter from the elements.
"From the top!" their choreographer called out, voice carrying across the vast space. "Let's run through the pyro cues one more time before we break."
Chan rolled his shoulders to loosen the tension that had settled there after three hours of rehearsal. Around him, the other members shuffled into their starting positions, all bundled in hoodies and joggers, as they waited for the music to start.
This was their third day of technical rehearsals for the upcoming world tour, and today's focus was integrating the pyrotechnic effects with their choreography.
The opening beats of "Thunderous" roared through the speakers, and Chan's body moved on instinct, muscle memory taking over as he hit each sharp movement with precision. The choreography was intense—all aggressive angles and powerful gestures that told the story of the song. He could feel the familiar burn in his thighs as he dropped low, the stretch in his shoulders as he extended his arms.
They were approaching the first chorus, and Chan moved into his position at stage left, Changbin shifting to his back left. Chan could see the pyro rigs positioned around the stage in his peripheral vision—sleek black cylinders that would send controlled bursts of flame shooting upward in perfect synchronization with the music.
Three, two, one—
The explosion of sound and light came exactly on cue, but something was immediately, terribly wrong.
Instead of shooting straight up in a controlled column, the pyrotechnic effect nearest to Chan—positioned just two meters to his left—made a crack of sound as a support broke loose, the cylinder snapping sideways to erupt in a violent spray of flame and sparks. The malfunction happened so fast that Chan's mind couldn't process it, could only register the sudden wall of searing heat and blinding orange light rushing toward him. Instinct took over—with a shout of alarm, Chan threw his arms up to shield his face, turning his head away from the blast. A flash of thought—where are the others, how close were they—barely formed before the heat washed over his left side in one brutal second. Something sharp and vicious bit into his raised forearm with teeth made of fire. Somewhere, a kill switch slammed. Too late.
Blindly trying to escape, Chan threw himself backward, his balance abandoning him as shock and adrenaline overwhelmed his nervous system. He fell hard onto the stage floor, his back hitting with an impact that drove the air from his lungs.
He didn't even realize his hoodie sleeve was on fire.
"CHAN!"
Changbin's voice cut through the chaos, raw with terror.
Flames. Orange and hungry, were licking up Chan's black hoodie sleeve.
Changbin, having froze in place at the sight of sparks and shooting fire, now moved.
"HYUNG!" The shout tore from his throat as he lunged forward, his hands already ripping his gray hoodie over his head with such force his white tank top nearly came off with it. Changbin threw himself toward Chan, his hoodie clutched in both hands.
Chan was on his back on the stage floor, his arms raised defensively. His face was contorted in confusion and shock, head turned away with eyes squeezed shut, his breath coming in sharp gasps as he tried to recover the breath that had just been knocked out of him, oblivious to the flames dancing along the fabric of his arm.
Changbin crashed to his knees at Chan’s right side, and without hesitation, he leaned over him and pressed his hoodie down onto Chan's burning sleeve. "No, no, no, no—" The words tumbled out of him in a frantic litany as he used his body weight to smother the flames, pressing down hard, wrapping the fabric around Chan's arm to cut off the oxygen feeding the fire even as he felt the hoodie turn hot in his hands.
"Put it out! Put it out!" Lee Know's voice, high and sharp with fear, came from somewhere behind them.
The smell hit him then—burning synthetic fabric mixed with something else, something organic and terrible that made Changbin's stomach lurch. He patted the hoodie down trying to smother the flames, his hands shaking, his whole body shaking.
The flames died under Changbin's hoodie, finally starved of air, leaving only wisps of smoke curling up from the fabric. The music had cut off—someone had killed the sound—and in the sudden silence, Changbin could hear running footsteps as the other members and staff rushed toward them from their positions across the stage.
But Changbin didn't move, didn't lift the hoodie away. He kept it pressed against Chan's arm, terrified that the fire might reignite, terrified to see what was underneath.
"Hyung, hyung, look at me," Changbin said, his voice cracking. He was still kneeling over Chan, one hand holding his hoodie on the burned arm while his other hand came up to cup Chan's face. "Chris, open your eyes."
Chan's eyes fluttered open, unfocused and glassy with shock. His pupils were blown wide, and he was breathing too fast, shallow gasps that weren't bringing in enough oxygen. "What—what happened?" His voice was thin, confused. Then his gaze sharpened slightly, darting past Changbin's shoulder frantically. "The others—" his breath hitched. "Is everyone—are they okay?"
"Everyone's fine, hyung," Changbin said quickly, his hand still cupping Chan's face. "Everyone's fine. Just you—you got hurt."
At Changbin's words, the pain suddenly registered, seeming to ignite like a spark to shoot up his arm, and Chan was brutally brought back to the present.
Chan's entire body went rigid on the stage floor, his back arching off the ground. Then his body curled inward protectively, half sitting up to bring his injured arm toward his chest, knees following. His lips pressed together in a tight line, his jaw clenched so hard that the muscles jumped beneath his skin as he tried to smother a keening moan of pain that came from deep within his chest. Tears sprang to his eyes immediately, pooling there and making his vision swim. His right hand shot out, grabbing onto Changbin's wrist where it held his injured arm, his fingers digging in so hard that Changbin felt his bones grind together.
"Hyung!" Changbin's own voice broke on the word. "I've got you, I've got you, just—"
Chan squeezed his eyes shut against the pain, hunched over and rocking slightly. The tears that had been welling immediately streamed down his face, dripping onto his lap. His breath came in sharp, controlled gasps through his nose as he struggled to stay quiet, teeth clenched.
The other members had surrounded them now, their faces pale with shock and fear. Felix dropped to his knees on Chan's other side, his hands hovering uselessly over their friend, not knowing where to touch, how to help. "Oh my god, oh my god—"
"Someone call an ambulance!" Han's voice was shrill with panic. His hands uselessly patting his pockets for his phone. He cursed at himself as he couldn’t remember where he’d left it. "Now, call them now!"
"I'm calling!" Seungmin was already pressing his phone to his ear, his face white as a ghost. "Yes, hello, we need an ambulance, there's been an accident—"
Lee Know's voice cut through the chaos. "Water! We need water for the burn!" He was already moving, his eyes scanning the stage. "I.N, Han—grab the bottles from around the stage!"
I.N and Han immediately scattered in opposite directions. I.N ran toward the front of the stage where they'd left bottles near the monitor speakers, while Han sprinted toward stage right where more bottles sat near the lighting equipment. Lee Know himself ran to the side of the stage where their bags were piled, dropping to his knees beside the crate where they kept additional supplies.
"Don't move him!" their choreographer had appeared, his face stricken. "Don't move him, keep him still—"
"The hoodie," Hyunjin said, his voice shaking. He knelt down near Chan's shoulder, his hands trembling. "We need to get the hoodie off, it's—the fabric might be stuck to—"
"No!" Felix's voice was sharp. "We can't just pull it off, we'll make it worse—"
"We have to get it off to try and keep the wound clean," I.N said, and his voice was surprisingly steady despite the tears streaming down his face, his arms filled with water bottles as he approached. "Carefully. We have to do it carefully."
Changbin looked down at Chan, who was still gripping his wrist with desperate strength, his face twisted in silent agony, tears streaming steadily down his face. "Hyung, we need to take your hoodie off, okay? We need to see—we need to cool the burn."
Chan's eyes opened, watery and red-rimmed, and he gave the smallest shake of his head. His lips stayed pressed together, but Changbin could see the plea in his eyes.
"I know," Changbin said, his own voice thick with tears. "I know, but we have to." He looked up at Felix. "Help me. Slowly."
Lee Know reached for the water bottles he found in the crate with shaking hands. "I've got water—" he called.
"Wait until we get the hoodie off," Hyunjin said. He had shifted to Chan's left, nudging Felix over, and his face was set in grim determination despite the fear in his eyes.
Changbin carefully pried Chan’s hand from his desperate grip on his wrist, wincing at the barely audible moan of objection Chan made, the fingers of the now bereft hand curling into a tight fist. Changbin lifted his own hoodie away from Chan's burned arm, and the sight underneath made him suck in a sharp breath. The sleeve of Chan's black hoodie was partially melted, the fabric warped and discolored, and even from here he could see the angry red skin visible through the damaged material.
"Okay," Changbin said, though his voice shook. "Okay. Hyunjin, help me with the left side. We go slow."
Chan's breathing had picked up, panicked gasps through his nose, but he kept his lips pressed together, kept struggling to maintain control. The knuckles of his fist turned white.
"I'm sorry, hyung," Changbin whispered. "I'm so sorry."
They moved as carefully as they could, but there was no way to make it painless. As they began to ease Chan's hoodie up his torso, they had to manipulate his left arm. The fabric caught on the burned skin, and as they gently pulled it free, the melted synthetic material separated from raw flesh with a sickening resistance.
A whimper broke past Chan's lips—small and involuntary and utterly devastating. His control shattered for a moment, and a cry tore from his throat, raw and agonized. His body twisted, curling further inward.
"Almost there, almost there," Felix was murmuring, wishing he could do more from his position beside Chan’s trembling knees. "Just a little more—"
The hoodie came off, and Felix grabbed it and tossed it aside with shaking hands. Chan was left in just his white t-shirt, and the contrast made the injury on his left arm stand out in stark, horrible relief.
The burn covered the outside of his forearm from just below his elbow down to his wrist, and it extended partially onto the back of his hand. The skin was an angry, mottled red, already beginning to blister in places. The edges were the worst—where the melted fabric had adhered to his skin, leaving dark residue that made Changbin's stomach turn.
"Oh god," Han whispered from above them, and he turned away, his hand over his mouth.
"Water," Lee Know said as he approached with the water he found in hand, his voice tight. "We need to cool it down."
"Not too cold," I.N said quickly. He had his phone out, clearly reading something. "Not ice, just cool water. We need to run it over the burn for at least ten minutes."
"Ten minutes?" Seungmin repeated. He was still on the phone, but he caught I.N's words. "That's what they said about the ambulance. Ten minutes, maybe a little longer with rush hour traffic—"
Changbin bit his lip at that information but nodded, forcing himself to stay calm. He looked down at Chan, who still trembled in restrained pain, his right hand still locked in a fist against his chest. Tears continued to stream down his face, but his lips stayed pressed together, his jaw clenched. "Hyung, did you hear that? Help is coming, okay? Just ten minutes."
Chan managed the smallest jerk of a nod, but his eyes were squeezed shut again, his whole body stiff with the strain of holding himself together.
"You can do this," Changbin said. He shifted so he could gather Chan against his chest, sliding his left arm behind his back to support his friend's weight, careful not to jostle the injured arm. "I know you can."
Lee Know kneeled opposite Changbin, opening one of the many bottles of water they had gathered. "I'm going to pour this over the burn, okay? It's going to help."
Chan's only response was a slight tensing of his body, bracing himself.
Lee Know tipped the bottle, and cool water began to flow over Chan's burned forearm. The reaction was immediate—Chan hunched forward with a sharp intake of breath, instinctively trying to curl around his wounded arm, pulling it away from the water. He released his clenched fist to reach out and push Lee Know away, but Changbin snatched the hand before it could make contact. Instead, he threaded his fingers through Chan’s and pressed their palms together in a solid grip. He pulled their hands to his chest, giving a comforting squeeze.
“Easy now, Chris,” he spoke softly, trying to catch Chan’s attention, but instead Chan jerked his injured arm toward himself again.
"Hyung, I need—" Lee Know struggled to keep Chan's arm extended, his hands gentle but firm. "Felix, help me. Hold his arm still."
Felix moved immediately, his hands carefully grasping Chan's forearm above and below the burn, holding it away from Chan's body. But his lip caught between his teeth, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment as Chan again tried to pull his arm back, tried to curl around it. Every instinct Felix had screamed to let go, to let Chan protect himself, to stop causing him more distress.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Felix whispered, his voice breaking as he held firm.
Lee Know kept pouring, and the sensation was torture—the coolness brought blessed relief that washed through the burn, but it also seemed to wake up the raw agony beneath, the two feelings trading places with each beat of his pounding heart. Cool-sharp-cool-sharp, alternating so fast it was impossible to know if the water was helping or making it worse. A small sound of distress escaped Chan's lips.
"I know, I know," Lee Know was saying, his own voice thick with held emotion. "I'm sorry, hyung—"
But he kept pouring, because they all knew it had to be done. The water ran over the angry red skin, over the blisters, over the places where the fabric had melted into flesh. Feeling trapped, Chan pressed his face into Changbin's chest, his body trembling, and Changbin felt the dampness of tears soaking through his tank top. Chan's control had finally broken completely—he was crying now, really crying, his breath coming in shuddering gasps against Changbin's chest.
"Keep talking to him," Hyunjin said quietly from where he knelt on Lee Know’s other side. He had taken over water duty from Lee Know, having opened a second bottle to continue the flow. They'd take turns to keep the water flowing steadily. "Keep him focused."
Changbin tightened his hold on Chan, hugging his friend to him. "Remember when we first met? You were so serious, so focused."
Chan's grip on his hand tightened, and Changbin returned the pressure. He didn't know why that was the memory that popped into his head now, but he continued.
"You smiled at me and said my rap was good. Said I had potential. You remember?"
A tiny nod against his shoulder.
"You've always been there for us," Changbin continued. "Always took care of us."
"Now we take care of you," Felix added softly, his accent thick with emotion as he continued to hold Chan's arm still. "We've got you, Chris. We’re not going anywhere."
Han paced back and forth behind them, wringing his hands in helplessness. He dragged his gaze from Chan to seek out Seungmin, his eyes shining with held tears. "How much longer?"
Seungmin shook his head. "It's only been five minutes." He stood just behind Lee Know's shoulder, the phone still pressed to his ear, shifting his weight from foot to foot. His free hand clenched and unclenched at his side, the only outward sign of his anxiety as he maintained his steady voice for the dispatcher.
”Yes, we're still cooling the burn," he said into the phone, his voice clear and controlled. Then he pulled the phone slightly away. "They're asking about his breathing," he reported to the others, then back into the phone: "Shaky but controlled. He's conscious and responsive."
Hyunjin had finished the second water bottle and was opening another as Lee Know took over, maintaining the steady flow. He was focused on his task, wishing he could say something to comfort Chan, but his normally expressive mind had gone blank.
Chan's sobs had quieted against Changbin's chest, though the tremors still ran through his body. He'd cried himself out, but the pain wasn't lessening. His breathing was shaky but more controlled now, like he was trying to pull himself back together.
"How long has it been?" Changbin asked, not taking his eyes off Chan.
"Six minutes of water," I.N reported, checking his phone. "Ambulance is still at least five minutes out."
Five more minutes. It felt like an eternity.
Chan's grip on Changbin's hand had loosened slightly, not because the pain was better but because exhaustion was setting in. His face was still pressed against Changbin's chest, and Changbin could feel each shaky breath.
"Hyung, you need to breathe slower," Felix said gently. "In through your nose, out through your mouth. With me?"
Felix demonstrated, taking a slow breath. Chan tried to follow, his breath hitching, but he managed it. Then another. His lips were no longer pressed in that tight line—now they were parted slightly as he focused on breathing, on getting through each moment.
The wind had picked up, and it cut across the stage with bitter cold. Chan was shivering now, his body's temperature regulation thrown off by the shock and trauma.
"Someone get blankets from the van," Lee Know said. "He's going into shock."
Han jerked to attention at the request, his pacing halting as he immediately grasped at the chance to do something to help his friend. He spun around and sprinted toward the parking area where their vehicles were waiting.
"Stay with us, Chris," Changbin said urgently. He felt Chan tremble in his arms. "Hey, keep your eyes open. Look at me."
Chan slowly lifted his face from Changbin's chest. His eyes were red and swollen from crying, his face pale and drawn, but he met Changbin's gaze. Tears still shone in his eyes, brimming and making everything look watery and unfocused.
"Cold," he mumbled, his voice hoarse as a shiver racked his frame. "An' tired. So tired, Bin."
"I know, but you have to stay awake." Changbin looked up at the others, fear sharp in his eyes.
"Chan-hyung!" I.N moved closer, his voice urgent. "Look at me. What song are you working on?"
It was a good tactic—appealing to Chan's passion. Chan's brow furrowed slightly, his lips moving as he tried to form words.
"It's... for the next album," he managed, his voice slurred. "The bridge isn't... isn't right yet. The melody needs..."
"Needs what?" I.N pressed. "Tell me."
"Needs to build more," Chan said, and his voice was a little stronger now. "The energy isn't... coming through..."
"You'll fix it," Changbin said firmly. "You always do."
"Have to... finish it..." Chan's eyes were starting to drift closed again.
"You will," Felix promised. "But first you gotta get through this. Yeah? Stay awake, Chris."
Han returned at a sprint, blankets clutched to his chest, his breath coming in hard gasps—not just from the run, but from the flood of relief at finally being able to do something to help.
They carefully arranged the blankets over Chan, tucking them around him while still keeping his injured arm exposed. Hyunjin and Lee Know had fallen into a rhythm, trading off pouring water over the burn—Lee Know would empty a bottle in a steady stream while Hyunjin twisted open the next one, then they'd switch.
Hyunjin's hands shook slightly as he poured, his jaw tight with concentration. He needed to do this, needed to help somehow, even as each of Chan's pained gasps made his chest ache. When the bottle ran empty, he looked up and met Lee Know's eyes.
For a moment, they just stared at each other—the same distress and worry reflected in both their faces, the same helpless fear. Lee Know reached out and squeezed Hyunjin's shoulder, firm and grounding, before taking the empty bottle and handing him a fresh one.
Han moved to stand beside I.N, wrapping an arm around the youngest's shoulders and squeezing—as much to comfort I.N as to steady himself. I.N leaned into the touch slightly, his eyes never leaving Chan.
Seungmin stood a few feet away, phone still pressed to his ear, his free hand gesturing slightly as he listened intently to the dispatcher. He nodded once, then again, his expression focused despite the worry in his eyes.
"Yes, we're keeping the burn cool with water," he said into the phone. "He's conscious but in shock, it's getting hard to keep him awake—" He paused, listening, then nodded again. "Okay. Okay, I understand."
He looked up at the group, hovering close but staying out of the way of those actively helping Chan. "The ambulance is a few minutes away," he reported. "The dispatcher says to keep doing what we're doing—keep him warm except for the burn, keep talking to him, and keep that water flowing."
A few more minutes. They could do a few more minutes.
Chan had started shaking again, harder this time, and his teeth were chattering. "C-cold," he managed, his voice barely above a whisper. "So cold..."
"I know, the blankets will help," Changbin said, though he knew the cold was from shock. He held Chan tighter, rubbing his friend's back in an effort to increase heat. "Just a little longer, Chris. Hold on."
"Bin..." Chan's voice was barely audible. "Scared..."
The admission broke something in Changbin. Chan never admitted to being scared. To hear him say it, in that small, broken voice...
"I know," Changbin said, resting his chin on top of Chan's head as he pulled him close. "I know, hyung. But you're not alone. We're all here."
"Not going anywhere," Felix echoed, moving a hand to give Chan's knee a squeeze.
"We've got you," Lee Know added.
"You're going to be okay," Hyunjin said, though his voice cracked with emotion.
Chan's response was lost in another wave of shivering, but Changbin felt the way his friend's hand tightened around his, their fingers tightly entwined. He felt the way Chan pressed closer, seeking comfort and warmth and safety.
Han pulled I.N even closer to him, both of them watching with tear-filled eyes, unable to find words but refusing to look away.
Seungmin leaned forward slightly, still hovering behind Lee Know, still shifting his weight from foot to foot as he kept the phone pressed to his ear. He looked down at Chan, his expression focused. "Ambulance is almost here, hyung," he said, his voice steady and reassuring even as he nodded at something the dispatcher was saying. "They're turning onto our street now."
The sound of sirens finally cut through the air, growing louder as they approached. Changbin had never been so relieved to hear that sound in his life.
"They're here," he told Chan. "Help is here, hyung. You did it. You made it."
The ambulance pulled up as close to the stage as it could get, and two paramedics jumped out, grabbing their equipment and running toward the stage. Their choreographer and several staff members were directing them, pointing toward where the members were clustered around their injured friend.
The paramedics climbed onto the stage with practiced efficiency, their faces professional and calm in a way that immediately made Changbin feel slightly better. These were people who knew what they were doing, who had seen worse, who could help.
"Okay, let's see what we have here," the first paramedic said, kneeling beside them. She was a woman in her forties with kind eyes and steady hands. Everyone except Changbin moved away, giving the paramedics room. "Can you tell me what happened?"
"Pyrotechnic malfunction," their choreographer said quickly. "It shot sideways and hit him. His sleeve caught fire."
The paramedic nodded, already examining Chan's arm without touching it. "And you've been cooling it with water? Good, that's exactly right. How long?"
"About twelve minutes," Hyunjin said, still holding a water bottle though his hands were shaking with exhaustion. He looked very meek as he stood there, shifting his feet to make contact with Lee Know beside him for support. Lee Know immediately grasped his hand and squeezed.
"Excellent. We'll take it from here." The paramedic looked at Chan, whose eyes were half-closed, his face pale and drawn. "Hello, I'm Nurse Lee," she said in formal, careful Korean. "Can you tell me your name?"
"Chan," he mumbled. "Bang Chan..."
"Good. Chan, I'm going to give you something for the pain, okay? It's going to help a lot."
The second paramedic had already prepared an IV, and he moved with quick efficiency to insert it into Chan's right arm, Changbin having been forced to lean back and lower the limb, but he still held on to Chan's hand, not willing to let go. Chan barely reacted to the needle, too exhausted and overwhelmed to register it.
"This is going to work fast," Nurse Lee said as she pushed medication through the IV line. "You should start feeling better in just a minute or two."
Changbin watched Chan's face anxiously, looking for any sign of relief. It took about ninety seconds, but then he saw it—the tight lines around Chan's eyes eased slightly, his breathing slowed and deepened, and the death grip on Changbin's hand finally loosened.
"Better?" Nurse Lee asked gently.
Chan nodded, just barely, and his eyes closed fully. "Yeah... better..."
"Good. Now we're going to get you onto the stretcher and into the ambulance, okay? We need to get you to the hospital so the doctors can properly treat this burn."
The paramedics worked quickly but carefully, transferring Chan from Changbin's arms onto the stretcher. Changbin had felt the loss of Chan's weight against him like a physical ache, he'd noticed the way Chan's hand had tightened on his when he was pulled away, and he had to resist the urge to yank his friend back, to keep holding him.
"Can I—" Changbin's voice cracked. "Can I go with him?"
"One person can ride in the ambulance," Nurse Lee said. "Are you family?"
"We're his group," Felix said quickly. "His friends. We're—we're all he has here."
The paramedic's expression softened. "Okay. One of you can come."
"Changbin should go," Lee Know said immediately, and the others nodded in agreement.
Changbin didn't argue. He stepped toward the ambulance when a sudden gust of frigid air tore around the side of it and he shivered—he was still in just his tank top, goosebumps rising on his bare arms. His hoodie lay in a crumpled heap on the stage floor where he'd dropped it after smothering the flames. For half a second, he considered grabbing it.
Then he saw the black char marks streaking across the fabric, remembered the acrid smell of burnt synthetic that clung to it, and his stomach turned. He left it where it was.
Changbin climbed into the ambulance behind the stretcher. He sat on the small bench seat and immediately reached for Chan's right hand, lacing their fingers together again despite the IV.
"The rest of you can follow in your vehicle," the second paramedic said. "We're going to Seoul National University Hospital. It's about ten to fifteen minutes from here."
"We'll be right behind you," Lee Know promised, and his eyes met Changbin's. "Take care of him."
"I will," Changbin said, though his voice was barely audible.
The ambulance doors closed, and the vehicle started moving, sirens wailing. Through the small back windows Changbin caught glimpses of the gray Seoul sky sliding past, but he kept his eyes on Chan's face, watching the way the pain medication had smoothed out some of the tension, though he could still see the exhaustion and lingering fear there.
"You did so good, hyung," Changbin said softly, squeezing Chan's hand.
Chan's eyes opened slightly, finding Changbin's face through the haze of medication. "You... you saved me," he whispered. "The fire... you put it out..."
"Of course I did," Changbin said, and his voice broke. "Of course. I'll always protect you, Chris. Always."
"Hurts less now," Chan mumbled, his words starting to slur as the medication pulled him toward sleep. "The medicine... it's good..."
"That's good. You can rest now, okay? I'm right here. Not going anywhere."
Nurse Lee was working on Chan's arm, carefully covering it with a sterile, non-stick dressing. "The burn looks to be second-degree with some first-degree areas," she said, speaking to both Changbin and Chan. "The doctors will assess it fully at the hospital, but he's going to need specialized burn treatment. The good news is that you all did everything right—cooling it immediately, keeping it clean, keeping him calm. That's going to make a big difference in his recovery."
"How long will recovery take?" Changbin asked, though he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.
"For a burn this size and severity? Several weeks at minimum, possibly a few months for complete healing. He'll need regular dressing changes, probably some physical therapy to maintain mobility in his hand and wrist. But he's young and healthy, and with proper treatment, he should make a full recovery."
Several weeks. Possibly months. Their tour was supposed to start in three weeks.
But Changbin pushed those thoughts away. The tour didn't matter. Nothing mattered except making sure Chan was okay.
Chan's eyes had closed again, and his breathing had evened out into something that looked almost like sleep, though Changbin knew it was probably more like unconsciousness from exhaustion and medication. He kept holding Chan's hand, his thumb moving in small circles over Chan's knuckle.
"You're going to be okay," Changbin whispered, more to himself than to Chan. "You're going to be okay, and we're going to take care of you, and everything is going to be fine."
He repeated it like a mantra, like a prayer, all the way to the hospital.
---
The emergency room was a blur of activity—doctors and nurses moving with purpose, questions being asked and answered, forms being filled out. The other members arrived within minutes of the ambulance, and they filled the waiting room with their presence, their worry, their love.
Changbin stayed by Chan's side through the initial examination, through the careful cleaning and debriding of the burn, through the application of specialized dressings and the discussion of treatment plans. He held Chan's hand every time they allowed it, and Chan held back, even when the medication made him drowsy and confused.
It was only when the doctors finally said that Chan was stable, that he was going to be admitted overnight for observation and pain management, that Changbin finally let himself step away. He walked out into the hallway where the other members were waiting, and the moment the door closed behind him, it all came crashing down.
The scene hit him like a physical blow—He could see it so clearly. Chan jerking back with a shout of surprise, the way he'd tried to shield himself, collapsing to the stage floor, the flames... God, that imagery would haunt Changbin for the rest of his life.
Changbin's legs felt weak. He pressed his back against the wall, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps.
Chan had been on fire. On fire.
Changbin's hands started shaking. He stared down at them, remembering the heat of the flames as he'd thrown himself onto Chan, remembering the desperate, frantic need to make it stop, to put it out, to save him. What if he'd been a second slower? What if he hadn't been close enough? What if the flames had spread to Chan's face, his chest, what if—
The terror of it seized his chest like a vice. Chan could have died. Right there on that stage, in front of all of them, Chan could have died, and Changbin had watched it happen. He had seen his friend, his hyung, his brother, burning and collapsing in pain.
A sob tore from his throat before he could stop it.
Felix grabbed him first, appearing at his side as Changbin's knees buckled. Strong arms wrapped around him, pulling him into a tight hug, and then the others were there too—Seungmin and I.N and Hyunjin and Lee Know and Han—all of them surrounding him, holding him up, holding him together, holding themselves together.
"He's okay," Changbin managed to say through his tears, his voice breaking on every word. "He's going to be okay."
And for now, in this moment, that was enough.
They would face the recovery together. They would face the postponed tour dates, the difficult rehabilitation, the long road ahead. They would face all of it together, the way they always had.
Because they were Stray Kids, and they were family, and nothing—not fire, not pain, not fear—could break that bond.
**The End.**