Chapter Text
"You still haven't slept, have you?"
Seungmin's question cut through the living room just as Chan crossed it for what had to be the fifth time that hour, laptop tucked under one arm while he scrolled through something else on his tablet.
Chan waved a dismissive hand without looking up.
"I slept."
"You passed out for forty minutes yesterday."
"Exactly—I slept."
"That doesn't count," Changbin muttered from where he was sprawled across the floor.
Chan ignored him entirely, already moving again.
Jisung looked up from where he was half-curled on the couch, brows pulling together as he watched Chan disappear back down the hallway toward the in-house studio. The door clicked shut a second later.
He rubbed absently at one eye, trying to blink away the heaviness that had settled behind it sometime yesterday.
It wasn't like he'd slept badly.
If anything, he'd probably gotten more sleep than the rest of them.
Which somehow made feeling this exhausted even more annoying.
Silence lingered for a moment.
Then Minho sighed.
"He's gonna pass out again at this point."
"He's been saying that track's almost done for like four days," Felix mumbled, leaning against the counter. "I don't think he's leaving that room until it is."
"I think he forgot how lunch works earlier," Jeongin added. "I literally watched him walk into the kitchen, stare at the fridge for thirty seconds, then leave."
That actually got a tired laugh out of a few of them.
Jisung didn't laugh, trying to stifle a yawn before the others noticed.
The apartment had been like this for almost three days now.
Not quiet—someone was always moving somewhere, music playing faintly from a speaker, the TV running in the background, Changbin and Seungmin arguing over something stupid in the kitchen—but a different kind of quiet had settled underneath it all.
The kind that came when everyone was carefully pretending not to notice something.
Or someone.
At first, none of them had thought much of it. Comeback prep always got bad near the end. Though none of the rest of them seemed to have much in the way of schedules for whatever reason. Chan disappearing into the in-house studio for twelve hours straight wasn't exactly unusual.
But this time felt different.
Maybe because it wasn't stopping.
Maybe because Chan had looked exhausted earlier. Not normal tired. Not comeback tired. Something heavier than that. The kind where his eyes stopped focusing properly sometimes when people talked to him.
The kind demigods at camp used to get before collapsing from burnout.
Every time Jisung caught sight of him lately, the weight behind his own eyes seemed to settle a little deeper.
His stomach twisted slightly.
“He’ll sleep eventually,” Changbin said after a second, though he sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than anyone else.
Jisung leaned back against the couch cushions, gaze drifting toward the hallway again.
Eventually.
Right.
⤗⤗⤘
By the next evening, Chan was getting worse.
Not dramatically.
Just in small ways that kept adding up.
He was quieter, too tired to properly engage when conversations happened around him the few times he did leave the studio, responding automatically more than actually participating. At some point Felix had asked him a question three separate times before realising Chan wasn’t even processing that anyone was talking to him.
"Are you good?” Felix asked carefully after the third attempt.
Chan blinked hard like he’d just surfaced from underwater. “Hm?”
Hyunjin frowned immediately from where he was sitting at the table. “Okay, no, seriously. When was the last time you slept for more than two hours?”
“I slept.”
“Chan.”
“I did.”
“When?”
A pause.
“…Tuesday?”
“It’s Friday.”
That finally seemed to make Chan stop for a second.
He stared blankly at Changbin like he was trying to work through the information manually before rubbing a hand down his face with a tired groan.
“Okay, maybe I’m a little tired.”
“A little?” Seungmin repeated incredulously.
Chan pointed at him without opening his eyes. “Don’t start.”
“You’re literally losing track of days.”
“I know what day it is.”
"You didn't realise it had been four days since you last slept fully.”
“I remembered eventually.”
Jisung watched the interaction quietly from the edge of the room, unease settling heavier in his chest.
The dull ache behind his eyes had been building all afternoon.
He'd tried taking a nap earlier.
It hadn't helped.
Chan laughed weakly at something Changbin said.
The headache pulsed a little harder.
Because Chan was trying to joke about it.
But his hands were shaking slightly when he reached for his coffee.
⤗⤗⤘
The second moment happened early the following morning.
Jisung had wandered into the kitchen around nine AM expecting to make a quick breakfast before heading out to meet his brother and instead found Chan standing motionless in front of the counter, staring vaguely down at his phone.
For a second Jisung genuinely thought he’d fallen asleep standing up.
“…Chan?”
No response.
Jisung stepped closer. “Hyung?”
Chan blinked hard, visibly startling, before turning toward him too quickly. “Jesus—you scared me.”
“You were just standing there.”
“I know.”
“…why?”
Chan looked down at the cup sitting beside him like he’d only just remembered it existed.
“I was making coffee.”
Jisung stared at the completely empty mug. No actual coffee to be seen on the counters.
“…with what?”
Chan followed his gaze.
Silence.
Then he sighed heavily and dropped his forehead against the cabinet with a quiet thunk.
“Okay, maybe it’s getting a little bad.”
“A little?”
Chan laughed weakly at that, though it sounded exhausted more than amused.
“I just need to finish this one last thing,” he mumbled. “Then I’ll sleep.”
Jisung frowned. “You’ve been saying that for days.”
“I know. I’m just…busy."
The frustrating part was that Chan sounded sincere every time he said it.
Like he fully believed it himself.
Jisung rubbed tiredly at his temple.
The dull ache behind his eyes had followed him into the kitchen that morning, settling heavier the longer he stood there.
That was what finally started pushing Jisung from worried into genuinely uneasy.
Because Chan wasn’t stopping.
And he didn’t seem capable of stopping anymore either.
⤗⤗⤘
Chan still wasn’t asleep by two in the morning.
Neither was Jisung.
Not because he hadn't tried.
He'd gone to bed hours ago.
He'd even fallen asleep for a while.
But somewhere around one-thirty, the dull pressure in his head had dragged him awake again.
It hadn't eased since.
He sat cross-legged near the end of the couch, staring blankly at the paused television while the apartment glowed softly blue around him.
Somewhere beyond the walls, he could feel most of his soulmates sleep.
Safe.
Resting.
And one...
Still moving.
The in-home studio door finally opened sometime after three.
Chan walked out slowly, rubbing at his eyes with one hand while still looking down at his phone with the other. He looked dead on his feet.
Just drained in a way that made the pressure behind Jisung's eyes spike so sharply he actually flinched.
His stomach dropped.
He'd never felt exhaustion like this before.
At least not since he was back at camp.
Chan made it halfway across the living room before stopping abruptly, blinking slowly.
“…why are you still awake?”
Jisung blinked up at him. “Why are you still awake?”
Chan huffed out a weak laugh at that, too tired to argue properly. “Touché.”
“You should sleep.”
“I will.”
“That’s what you said yesterday.”
“And the day before,” Minho’s voice called sleepily from somewhere down the hallway between his room and the bathroom.
Chan looked mildly offended. “Why are none of you asleep?”
“Why aren't you asleep?” Minho shot back immediately.
That earned another tired laugh from Chan, softer this time.
For a second, he just stood there swaying slightly on his feet, eyes half-lidded in a way that made Jisung’s concern sharpen.
“You okay?” he asked quietly.
Chan nodded automatically.
Then paused.
“…actually I think I might be hallucinating a little.”
“That’s not reassuring.”
“Mhm.”
Jisung watched him carefully as Chan finally lowered himself onto the opposite end of the couch with a groan, dropping his phone onto the cushion beside him before leaning his head back.
Within minutes, his breathing started slowing.
Not asleep.
Close.
Close enough that Jisung could feel the edge of it.
He waited.
Maybe...
Maybe this time Chan would drift off on his own.
Another minute passed.
Chan's breathing hitched.
His fingers twitched toward the phone beside him.
Jisung watched him begin pulling himself back toward consciousness.
"No..."
The word slipped out before he realized he'd spoken.
Please.
Just sleep.
Chan's eyes cracked open.
Barely.
Already searching for the phone.
Something in Jisung's chest twisted painfully.
He couldn't do this again.
Not tonight.
Not after a week.
His own head was pounding, every instinct he inherited from his father screaming that the person in front of him desperately needed sleep.
But—
Chiron's voice echoed through his memory.
‘Consent matters.’
‘Your abilities are not shortcuts.’
‘Sleep is still part of someone's mind.’
Jisung squeezed his eyes shut.
"I'm sorry."
Barely louder than a whisper.
Then he reached forward.
The familiar warmth slipped quietly between them.
Not a command.
Never that.
Just...
Rest.
A gentle nudge toward something Chan's own body was already desperately trying to do.
The fight left his shoulders almost immediately.
His breathing deepened.
His hand relaxed, falling away from the phone.
A few seconds later...
Nothing.
Sleep.
“Finally,” Jisung muttered quietly.
The relief in his own voice surprised him a little.
Chan shifted slightly against the couch cushion, face softening further as he settled deeper into sleep, and guilt twisted briefly in Jisung’s stomach again.
Maybe he really shouldn’t have done that. Maybe he should have given Chan the ultimatum, tell him he would do it if he didn’t sleep on his own. Tell him how it had been affecting not only himself
Chan needed sleep. And he would have argued if he had tried. Would have felt guilty if Jisung had explained.
Jisung exhaled slowly before leaning forward and carefully slipping one arm under Chan’s knees and the other around his back.
Chan barely reacted as Jisung lifted him.
Demigod strength made it easy. Back at camp, carrying injured people through the woods had never really been optional, and Chan weighed significantly less than a half-conscious camper in full armour.
Still, he adjusted his grip automatically, careful not to jostle him too much as he carried him down the hallway.
Most of the lights had been turned off, the only sound the faint hum of the air conditioner and Chan’s slow, even breathing against his shoulder.
Jisung nudged Chan’s bedroom door open with his foot before stepping inside carefully.
The room looked exactly like Chan had for the past week—clothes half-folded on the chair in the corner, notebook open on the bedside table, charger hanging halfway off the bed where he’d probably forgotten to plug his phone in properly.
Jisung lowered him onto the mattress gently.
Chan made a quiet noise of protest at the movement before immediately settling again the second his head hit the pillow.
Still completely asleep.
Jisung couldn’t help the small smile that pulled at his mouth.
He tugged the blankets up over him carefully before pausing for a second, looking down at Chan’s face.
Without the stress and exhaustion tightening everything, he looked younger somehow.
Softer.
Jisung brushed his hair back again automatically, fond more than anything else settling warm in his chest now that the worry had eased slightly.
“There,” he whispered. “Now you can actually rest.”
Chan didn’t stir.
After a second, Jisung’s attention shifted toward the phone still loosely clutched in Chan’s hand.
Carefully prying the phone from Chan’s hand, he glanced at the screen long enough to see more reminder notifications piling in before grimacing.
No wonder he wasn’t sleeping.
They were all supposed to have the day off tomorrow anyway. Whatever it was could wait a few hours.
Without thinking too hard about it, Jisung held the power button down until the screen went black.
“Nobody’s bothering you tomorrow either," he muttered, quieter this time.
He set the phone face down on the bedside table before giving Chan one last look.
Still asleep.
Still breathing slow and deep.
Good.
Jisung finally let himself relax slightly as he moved toward the door, switching the light off before slipping quietly out of the room behind him. The tension behind his own eyes easing the longer Chan slept.