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Jeongin rested his heavy head onto the plain white door of his hyung's bedroom door. It was midnight. 2:17am to be exact.He knew Chan wasn't asleep. He could see the light peeking out from beneath the door. He wasn't exactly sure how he got there, nor what good it could bring him. But, there he was, lifting his left arm to knock.
"Yea?"
Silence.
"Jeongin? "
Silence.
Chan got up off his seat and opened his door to see a tired Jeongin, meeting his gaze through his messy hair. He examined the younger's face and took a second to come up with an assumption. Yep. By all visual indicators, Jeongin was sick. He lifted his hand and pressed the back of it to the boy's neck and then his forehead.
39⁰C.
Chan concluded
"Jeongin-ah?Are you feeling okay?"
He knew the younger was definitely not okay, but he still felt the need to ask him. Chan wanted to hear it straight from him.
Jeongin shook his head. He didn't feel like speaking. He didn't want to do anything. He didn't want to take care of himself. He felt too sick. No, no. Sick isn't the right word. He felt too icky.
"C'mon. Let's sit down, okay?"
Chan placed his hand on Jeongin's back, gently leading him into his bedroom. Jeongin sat down on Chan's bed as he watched his hyung run out of the bedroom.
"I'll be right back."
He looked around his hyung's room. Every thing felt so much bigger. Not solely in a physical sense, but in a way that he couldn't understand. All these things were too big. What's all this stuff? What are those words on the laptop? What do those books say? What are all these big things that he doesn't feel the need to understand?
"Here you go. It's a a bit warm, I thought that might help."
Chan rummaged through his bedside table, then his dressing table, and finally the drawer inside his large cupboard. He returned with a tiny bottle.The sound of the pills colliding against eachother as Chan shook the bottle caught Jeongin's lost attention. He handed one to Jeongin.
Don'...don' wanna...
Jeongin shook his head from side-to-side and a small frown developed on his dry lips.
"Wha-" Chan let out an airy laugh "you don't want it?" He let out with a hint of surprise to his voice.
"No." Jeongin said in a voice, barely above a whisper. He looked up at the man standing over him. The Australian let out a sigh and thought for a few seconds before he spoke.
"Alright. Drink the water, okay? It's good. Lie down. I'll ask the boys if they have syrups or something." Chan said as he picked up his phone and paced across the length of the room, searching for Minho's number.
"Hello?" Minho answered the midnight call in a groggy voice.
"Yes. Hi, Minho. Do you have some syrup painkillers or anything of that sort?"
"Yea. I have some left from when I was sick."
"You drink the syrup?"
"You want it too, don't you?"
"Nah, Jeongin doesn't want to eat the pill. Not sure why. Sorry for calling so late. I'll get the-"
"Nope. I wasn't asleep, anyway. I'm coming."
Chan had no time to protest. All he heard was a few rustles and movement, then the call ended.
"Minho-hyung is coming with some medicine. Is that better?" Chan bent down and waited for an answer.
A tired "Mmmmm." was his reply.
Chan let out a sigh of concern and confusion.
"I'll turn the lights down. Just rest, okay?"
Jeongin covered more of his aching body with the blanket. It smelled like Chan. He liked that. He curled himself into a ball, hoping all this pain would somehow go away.
Too tired. Too hurt. Too icky.
He stared at the ground. The cold, hard, plain ground.
No. No. No. No. Please...I...I don' wan'
His silent begging was of no use. He could feel the hot vomit rise up his aching throat and spew out onto the very ground he was staring at. It all came out at once with barely any warning. He let out a piercing cry before it escaped him.
Chan stood infront of his kitchen counter, pouring himself some of leftover the hot water. His throat hurt from the multiple recordings he had done that day. Then suddenly, he heard it. A cry. A certain repetitive two-syllable cry, coming from the small boy in his room. Within seconds, Chan rushed to the source of the sound and turned the light on.
He saw Jeongin, sat up straight with tears brimming his tired eyes.
"I din' wan' p-puke." Jeongin whimpered, shifting his gaze to the mess he had made on the floor. "I soww- sorry."
"Th-that's fine. It's okay." Chan said, trying to not intimidate the younger.
To be honest, Chan was tired. Really tired. He was hoping to sleep after completing one last track. He was so close, too. But none of that mattered anymore. His friend was sick. And he was going to help him, no matter what.
"C'mon, Jeongin-ah. Let's get you cleaned up." Chan said, walking over to the other side of the bed to help Jeongin.
"I made mess." He slurred out, between sniffles and sobs.
"Hey, no, no." Chan replied, without skipping a beat. He held out his hand for Jeongin to hold, which the latter reluctantly accepted.
It wasn't that Jeongin didn't want to hold his hyung's hand. He was just too dirty. Too icky.
Chan walked the younger to the bathroom and stood by his side as Jeongin swished water around in his bitter mouth.
Oh no.
"I...i..hmm." he looked up with a sorrowful downward turn on his lips.
"Wha- oh! Okay, sit down, look into the toilet." Chan said with utmost urgency. He opened up the lid and winced with empathy as he listened to Jeongin hurl his insides into the ceramic bowl.
Tears and snot equally covered the younger's pale face. He couldn't hold it in anymore. He wasn't doing a very good job before, but he certainly couldn't continue his mediocre job of secrecy.
"Sowwy. I s-so sowwy. It all come out. I m-make mess." he brought his hand up to wipe his face. "Wan' eep. So i-icky."
'Sowwy'? 'Eep'? Is he okay?
"No, no, my baby. It's all okay. We can fix this. It's alright. Let's..uhh.. let's get you out of this icky place." Chan mimicked his vocabulary "Why dont we sit on the couch?"
Jeongin stood up with a small nod and followed Chan into the living room after he rinsed his mouth once more. He sat down. Guilt, sadness, annoyance, fatigue- everything flowed out of his eyes. He lifted his knees to his chest and buried his woeful face into his legs. He heard Chan walk off to the bedroom. He could also hear a few cabinets open and close.
He clean? Oh no. He clean my mess.
The ring of the doorbell that came a few minutes later pulled him out of his self-deprecating spiral of thoughts. He lifted his head to see Chan put away the cleaning supplies and welcome Minho. He was dressed in a dark blue sweatshirt and brown, patterned pajama pants.The latter handed a small container to Chan and walked over to him.
Minho sat down next to Jeongin. A sense of relief flooded through the younger as he heard the words escape from Minho's mouth.
"Hey, baby. You okay?"
Sure, they were simple. But to Jeongin, they held a deeper meaning. They meant safety. Jeongin lowered his barrier of legs and climbed onto Minho's soft lap.
"N-no. M-mama.. I sick. Isso icky. "
Chan's forehead wrinkled as he heard Jeongin speak.
What on earth is going on? Mama?
"I know. Channie-hyung told me. I have medicine."
"Mama bring?"
"Yep. Mama brought baby medicine. But before that, you need to eat something." Minho gestured for Chan to sit next to them. He silently complied." Will you be a good boy and sit with Channie? Mama is going to make you some soup. You do have those instant soup packets, don't you?" Minho directed the last question towards his hyung.
Chan nodded and so did Jeongin. The little was carefully placed into Chan's lap as Minho stood up and made his way to the kitchen. Chan was hit with a pang of awe and heartbreak when Jeongin wrapped his arms around Chan's neck and rested his legs on either side of the older. Chan heard a soft, unintelligible murmur of words leave Jeongin's mouth. But he didn't quite undertand.
"What was that, Jeongin-ah?"
Sniffle."Sowwy,Dada." Sniffle "I make you clean icky." Sniffle
"Th-that's okay, Innie. I'm not mad. I wouldn't ever be mad to take care of you, my love."
Wait a minute. He said it again.
"Baby?"
"Hmm?"
"Am..am I Dada?"
"Mmhmm." The little replied, matter-of-factly.
Oh. Okay, then.
"Dada isn't mad, baby." Chan gently laid Jeongin's head back onto his shoulder and started rocking him from side-to-side. He used to do this to his younger siblings when they were sick, too. He used to daydream about his own children as he caressed their small heads. And here he was.
"Channie-hyung." Minho called out softly "Soup."
Chan stood up with ease, keeping one hand under Jeongin's bottom and the other on his back. He sat the little on a seat of his own and watched as Minho placed a small bowl with chicken soup and a spoon in it onto the wooden table. Minho sat close, feeding Jeongin small spoonfuls of the warm soup, blowing on it as to not burn the boy.
"Min?"
"Yea?"
"What is happening?"
"He does this thing, almost involuntarily, where his brain kinda just becomes a kid. Mainly when he's super stressed. But, sick works too, I guess."
"Does he know?"
"He knows that it happens. I don't know if he is fully aware now. Or if he will remember the whole thing when he's back to himself."
Chan watched his youngest member. What could be stressing him out this much? Is he really okay? Why didn't he know?
"How...how did you find out? "
"We found out together. " Minho paused for an airy laugh. "It was around a month ago. It was only me and little Innie in the studio. I had just switched his position with" he paused to think "Changbin. We were in the studio the whole evening because he kept kicking with his left, which was his choreo before his place changed. The poor thing, I guess he remembered the change while dancing and tripped. He fell down and rolled his ankle. I ran over to him." Minho looked at the boy he was talking about with pure fondness in his shiny eyes. "Next thing I knew, he was apologising for getting it wrong and, I quote 'Wan' eep wif Mama'. "
"Oh, my poor aegi."Chan cooed, ruffling Jeongin's messy hair.
"When we woke up, we did our research. With much confusion, and Jeongin's embarrassment, we figured out it's a real thing. Age regression. It's safe, as far as I'm concerned. And speaking of safety, he only does it when he feels safe. So, props to you."
"Is that why you insisted on coming over?"
"Yea, I had the feeling he had gone little when you said he wasn't eating the pills."
"Gone little? Oh my god. That's the cutest thing ever! Aren't you so adorbale Innie? Like my little baby?"
"Dada baby?"
"Yes!" He replied, cupping Jeongin's face in his gentle hands "You are Dada's little gem. The sweetest little baby. You are so polite and kind. Aren't you?"
Jeongin's face grew red and he rushed to hide his face in Minho's shoulder. The latter carefully caressed his head and let out a joyous giggle.
"Mama. Wan' eep. Wan' eep in Dada room."
"You're staying the night, right?"
"Mama go?" Jeongin asked as a frown tugged at his lips.
"No, no. Mama is staying."
The three slowly waddled over to Chan's cozy bedroom. Chan filled up Jeongin's medicine in the tiny cup and handed it to the little. Innie swallowed the disgusting liquid and let out a "Blegh." right after.
He was sent to the bathroom with Minho as Chan got the bed ready. He placed a multitude of pillows, borrowed from Jeongin's bedroom and the living room. He spread out a few blankets and turned the bright light off. He knew Jeongin probably had a piercing head ache. He turned the night-light on and grabbed a plastic bag to line his trash can with.
What if my baby pukes again?
The said baby and his maternal caregiver exited the bathroom and joined Chan on the nest he had made for them.
Jeongin quickly took his spot in the middle of the bed,legs spread out and arms flailing, trying to get comfortable.
No. Not right. Need hold.
He wiggled around a bit more. Nothing felt right. He turned onto his other side and grabbed a hold of...of something. He wasn't sure what it was yet. That was until he moved a around a bit more and felt a strong, firm chest against his back. He was holding his Dada's arm!
Chan held onto the little pressed against his front with such tenderness, his heart was about to burst out of his chest. Jeongin's hands gripped onto the arm that was wrapped around him.
"I can't believe he let us in so easily. " Minho voiced, quiet.
"I'm just glad that he did. I hope he's alright."
"He will be. We're right here. We'll make sure of it." Minho ended as he watched Jeongin's face grow soft and blank.