Until It Happens To You

“why would they care? i’ve seen how they look at you changkyun-ah; you’re nothing but a burden to them.”

no.

“they wouldn’t believe you even if you came home with a broken arm - you know this, changkyun-ah. they hate you.”

stop!

“it hurts more when you fight like this, so why don’t you just stop so we can have a little bit of fun, yeah?”

changkyun wakes with a start, shooting up from his spot on the ground with heavy, raspy breaths. with his heart hammering against his ribcage, the boy looks around in fear, his stomach churning with the need to puke. the practice room is empty, save for him and his stuttering breath. he lets out a pitiful sob, one that sounds more like a wheeze than anything, curling his knees up to his chest. his voice still rings in changkyun’s ear, the “they don’t care, changkyun-ah” playing over and over in his mind.

his fingers curl around bruised knees, nails digging into the darkened spots - to ground himself, changkyun excuses, taking in the rush of relief the self-inflicted pain brings. it’s different from the ache he feels across his body, different from the pain of the bruises lining his stomach and his back (most of his body, really). it’s controlled, on his terms.

changkyun laughs bitterly, glaring at the ground with swollen eyes.

it’s getting late, even without seeing outside, changkyun can tell he’s been lying here for a while already, that he should have been home by now. it’s the third time this week he’s going to arrive at the dorm late, and no doubt is he going to get an earful - but it's fine, he already knows what to say to get the hyungs off his back (not that they really care where he spent his time, but they all had a schedule to follow, they can’t have changkyun fucking everything up).

“I was getting some extra practice, ” is what he’ll tell hyunwoo, with a sheepish smile to top it all off. it’s not like he’s lying, either. he did come for extra practice, because he’s still stumbling over the footwork for their title song’s dance, but he was caught off guard when hyunsik - their manager - interrupted. the moment he caught eyes with the older man, changkyun knew he wasn’t going to make it home on time.

and he was right, because here he is, maybe 2 hours later, still at the company building. at least he’s gone now, changkyun muses with a mirthless smirk. there’s no humor in his thoughts, no real happiness to be felt because while hyunsik is gone, his presence still remains. in the crevices of changkyun’s insecure mind, in his bruises, in the scars in and around his body.

he’s sure he must look like shit (more-so than usual), so he takes the time to fix his hair, rearrange his clothes, making sure every mark, every bruise, is covered. changkyun can’t have the rest of his bandmates finding out - can’t give them a reason to hate him more than they already do. dragging himself up off the ground is harder than it first seemed. with every movement, his muscles ached and as soon as he was upright, his head spun dizzily. changkyun almost collapses but he stays on his feet stubbornly, forcing the dizziness to fade as quickly as it could.

every step is painful, but changkyun manages to get himself out of the building after an excruciating 6 minutes. the cool air of the night is refreshing, and changkyun takes a deep breath. how am i supposed to dance tomorrow? he thinks, wincing at the pull of his bruised muscles. he should be used to it, really, but hyunsik seemed angrier today - rougher. he’d hit changkyun harder than usual, stood over him and wailed insults and fists at the rapper until he couldn’t speak anymore. it was rough and changkyun is feeling the repercussions in not only his body, but also his mind.

but, again, it’s fine. this... this thing he and hyunsik have going on (the manager having free reign on changkyun, wherever, whenever) it’s nothing he can’t handle, nothing he doesn’t deserve. changkyun is used to it, he’s fine.

(but he’s not fine. it’s not fine.)

by the time he makes it back to the dorm, it’s well past midnight. nobody waited up for him tonight; usually it would be hyunwoo or kihyun, waiting on the couch with a stern lecture (kihyun) or a worried scold (hyunwoo). but tonight, it seems everyone is already tucked away in bed. they probably gave up. changkyun doesn’t mind, he probably would to if he were in any of their positions, so he ignores the hollow feeling of sadness welling up in his chest. he carefully trudges to the vacant couch, foregoing the trek to his shared bedroom. changkyun’s not sure if he could make it up to his bunk. not tonight, not when each step is harder to take than the last. he just wants to sleep.

he drops himself down onto the couch carefully, letting out a heavy sigh. his eyes slip shut the moment his head hits the cushion, but changkyun’s heart is racing too quick for him to find rest. his head is throbbing, body aching, but the ache extends past the surface, to deep inside his chest. the longer he lays there, in the quiet darkness of the living room, the colder he grows.

he wants his hyungs.

(changkyun wants a lot of things

he wants to hear the annoyance-masked worry in kihyun’s voice as he scolds changkyun for returning home so late, the awkward “come home earlier next time, changkyun-ah” from hyunwoo as he directs him to bed. he wants to listen to hoseok and hyungwon bicker about any and everything. he wants to watch jooheon and minhyuk bounce around the dorm.

he wants to not feel like a burden every waking moment of his life. he wants to not live in fear every day. he wants to feel like he has a place among these people, like he’s a part of Monsta X.

changkyun wants a lot of things, remember - but when does he ever get what he wants?)

he's too tired to pretend everything's alright, so he curls into the edge of the couch, face pressed into the cushion, and lets the tears he’s been holding back fall freely. his hyungs aren’t here, there’s no need to hide his weakness.

“changkyun?” changkyun winces when someone prods at his shoulder, pressing against one of his bruises. “changkyun-ah, wake up.”

the poking turns to a gentle shake before changkyun manages to pry open his eyes, one of his hands shooting up to rub away the dried tears and sleep. he groans under his breath, glaring vacantly at the upholster. this isn’t his bed, his throbbing brain supplies, where did i... oh, that's right. he’d fallen asleep on the couch last night (a few hours ago?), too tired and too hurt to make it to his own bed.

“changkyun-ah,” kihyun’s voice calls, again. “you gotta wake up, come on.”

his voice, his touch, makes changkyun’s stomach tumble with butterflies, a welcomed presence over the hollowness in his chest. he turns on his back, biting back a cry of pain, to look up at his hyung. kihyun is kneeling beside the couch, his eyebrows pinched in the way that only happens when he’s worried. (but why would he be worried for you, changkyun? )

“hi, hyung,” he mumbles, voice much raspier than he thought it would be.

“god, when did you come home last night? you sound horrible,” kihyun frowns, “and why aren’t you sleeping in bed?”

changkyun opens his mouth to reply, to spew out one of the manufactured responses he’s gotten used to sharing, but nothing comes out. his throat closes up before his words can be voiced, the only thing changkyun can do is give his hyung a sheepish look.

kihyun shakes his head, clearly exasperated. the annoyance in his tone is glaringly obvious when he speaks again (look what you did, changkyun), “you can’t keep doing this, changkyun - staying out all night doing god knows what. you have a responsibility and you need to start taking it seriously. now get up and get dressed, we have practice.”

and just like that, kihyun is gone again, leaving the hole in changkyun’s chest gaping once more. why do i keep fucking everything up, he scoffs dryly, forcing away the wet heat behind his eyes. he can’t cry anymore, changkyun can’t keep being weak like this - like kihyun said, i have responsibilities.

so he forces himself up and off the couch, trying his best to ignore the sharp pull in his muscles when he does. changkyun hears the rest of his hyungs bustling about the dorm; there’s more than one person in the kitchen, one crunching obscenely loud and the other laughing just as boisterous (probably hoseok and minhyuk). the shower is running and kihyun’s voice can be heard yelling in one of the bedrooms (hyungwon must not be up). the loudness is familiar, safe. changkyun sighs in relief. it’s okay.

his bedroom is empty, though jooheon’s many hats are scattered across his bed. changkyun makes sure the door is closed when he changes, doing his best not to look at his bruised body. the dizziness from the night before hadn’t dissipated, only got worse with sleep - for a second, the thought of a concussion passed through changkyun’s mind before he flicks it away. hyunsik didn’t hit him that hard (he’s just weak).

pulling on his clothes comes as a surprising difficulty and in any other situation changkyun would laugh at himself for having trouble pulling a sweater over his head, but right now the feat is pitiful more than anything. how am i supposed to dance, he worries, both frustration and self-deprecation forcing unwanted tears back up.

“what a fucking crybaby. if you can’t even handle this, what makes you think you could handle being an idol?”

changkyun’s knees give out, his ass hitting the ground roughly as hyunsik’s voice echoes through his head. crybaby, crybaby, crybaby - the word that seems to describe him most, at least in the manager’s opinion. but it’s true.

(truthfully, crying is something changkyun doesn’t do often, too used to forcing down his emotions and keeping a straight face; but hyunsik’s words are a hunting snake and changkyun’s thoughts are the vulnerable prey. like a vice, his insults have coiled around his thoughts, his self esteem, and changkyun can’t even decipher where his own opinions end and hyunsik’s begin anymore.)

a crybaby who can’t do anything by himself, hyunsik tells him, a whiny brat who does nothing but burden his hyungs. like thorns, those words stab into him every day, but where is the lie? as far as he knows, hyunsik has told him nothing but the truth - since he’d been injected into the lineup of No Mercy, changkyun’s done nothing but inconvenience everybody around him.

a sharp knock at the bedroom door snaps changkyun out of his thoughts, and jooheon is barrelling through the door moments later. “yo, let’s go, or we’re gonna be late,” the rapper rushes, sifting through his collection of snapbacks and pulling a black one from the pile.

changkyun says nothing, pulling himself up off the ground and following jooheon out of the bedroom quietly. everyone’s already there, even hyungwon, so that makes changkyun the last one out (again, even though jooheon is just as late). he doesn’t look up, not wanting to see the mirroring looks of annoyance (the same look kihyun had) on his hyungs’ faces.

changkyun held them back again.

the ride to the company building is quiet; at least, in changkyun’s opinion. he doesn’t pay attention to the conversation around him, leaning his aching head against the cool window and closing his eyes. his thought drift easily, like usual, but it’s nothing good. all changkyun can think about is the stabbing guilt of the situation - of the glaring reality that he isn’t good enough. he lets himself drown in his own thoughts, curling against the window.

(changkyun doesn’t want to think about the building anxiety gnawing at his chest, nor the fatigue pulling at his conscious, but he can’t get away. consumed by the monster hiding in the back of his mind, changkyun's hoping, praying, that he’ll be strong enough to make it through the day.)

changkyun is the last to get out of the van, following behind the rest of them solemnly. the atmosphere is dreary, too subdued for Monsta X, and it’s making changkyun nervous. his eyes stay locked onto the ground, ashamed. this is his fault.

(he misses the worried looks his bandmates share.)

they have vocal practice first and changkyun is grateful for the relief off of his feet. the very act of walking is excruciating, nevermind dancing. his bruises still ache painfully, especially the darkening ones along his ribs. changkyun can still feel the imprints of hyunsik’s knuckles in the ridges of his ribs, pressing hard enough to cut off his breath, the ghost of a heel digging into his sternum.

the couch dips beside him and changkyun jolts in shock. minhyuk settles beside him, his signature sunny grin stretched across his lips. “you know he only acts like that because he cares, right?” minhyuk asks, glancing over at kihyun (singing away in the soundbooth, amazing as always) before returning his gaze to changkyun, “he’s just worried about you, changkyunie. we all are.”

his arm wraps around changkyun’s shoulders - which usually would be a comfort, but it only makes the suffocating pressure in his chest worse. but this is his dear hyung, so changkyun forces down the discomfort, trying not to flinch as minhyuk’s arm digs into the bruises on his shoulders. if the vocalist notices his stiffness, he doesn’t say anything (changkyun’s not sure if he’s thankful or not).

his turn couldn’t come fast enough. as soon as his name is called, changkyun squeezes himself out of minhyuk’s hold quickly, missing the look of hurt that flashes across the blond’s face. he ignores the rest of his hyungs, ignores his dizziness and the shakiness of his hands, and focuses on the lyrics in front of him. don’t screw this up too, hyunsik’s voice whispers into his ear, you’ve caused enough trouble already.

with a deep breath, changkyun’s voice filters through the microphone. the lyrics flow smoothly from his lips, and with them comes a release. his shoulders relax the more he raps, and for a moment the buzzing in his head is quelled. changkyun steps out of the booth with a soft feeling of accomplishment. though his voice is shot and grovelly, a bit thicker than normal, he managed to get through recording with little-to-no screw ups. but the feeling doesn’t last once their vocal coach claps him on the bruised shoulder, his words (although a praise, really) cutting through changkyun like a knife.

“that thing you’re doing with your voice? keep at it, kid, it’s sounding good.”

changkyun freezes at the praise, his mood taking a sudden, dramatic turn. the man didn't mean anything by his words - he doesn't know.  there’s no reason for those words to have that effect on him, no reason for them to leave changkyun's skin crawling. but they do. 

(keep at it? he thinks with a silent scoff, at what? screaming? crying? it's good to know there’s at least something good that’s come out of his “quality time” with their manager.)

changkyun spends the rest of the three hours slumped rigidly on the couch, trying his best not to recoil from any of his hyungs. with the exception of minhyuk, they all leave him to himself. what should come as a relief only makes him more nervous, and changkyun finds himself sending suspicious glances towards the rest of his bandmates for the rest of the recording session.

he doesn’t mean to be like this, he doesn’t want to be, but he can’t stop the cold suspicion growing in his stomach the longer his usually-clingy hyungs ignore him. so changkyun lets minhyuk maneuver him around however he likes, leaving himself pliant in the vocalists hands. at least then, he can’t do anything to make minhyuk angry with him too.

minhyuk latches himself onto hyunwoo as soon as the leader’s turn is over, leaving changkyun by himself again. changkyun doesn’t really mind, really, he doesn’t want to drag minhyuk down with his mopey aura, so he’s fine to spend the rest of it by himself until they have to leave. the constant fidgeting was starting to grate on his headache anyway, so changkyun’s kind of thankful for the reprieve. at least with minhyuk focusing on hyunwoo, there's nothing changkyun can do to disappoint him.

(changkyun would do anything to make his hyungs, his family , happy - even if it means giving up his own happiness.)

by the time they arrive for dance practice, changkyun’s body feels ready to give up. his throat is sore from vocal practice and god, his headache morphed into a migraine that pulses right behind his eyes every time he blinks, moves, or even just breathes. it’s going to be hell, changkyun knows.

once again, changkyun is left to his own devices as they change and stretch. the solitude is unnerving, making him feel like he did something wrong (he probably did though. he always does). the conversations around him are muted, a little strained, and changkyun can’t help but feel he’s the reason why. because he’s too weak to take care of himself so his hyungs are burdened with it; no wonder they’re angry. changkyun’s an adult, he’s 20, there’s no reason why he should always be relying on his hyungs.

like i said, nothing but a burden. changkyun flinches at the dark laugh in his ears, at the poison dripping from every word, this is why i’m teaching you how to survive, changkyun-ah.

(“teaching you how to survive”, that’s what hyunsik called using changkyun’s weaknesses against him, berating him with words he can’t defend himself against (because they’re true), knocking him onto his back and kicking him while he’s down. at first, after No Mercy ended but before they debuted, he’d been in denial - no way was this helping him.

but the more it kept happening, the more changkyun understood. he knows now, that what hyunsik tells him is true. it’s always been true. even before starship, with nu’bility and even before that, changkyun’s done nothing but burden the people around him.

but now hyunsik lurks in the corners of his dreams, on the back of his eyelids, waiting for the right moment to bring changkyun to his knees in fear. changkyun’s only become more of a burden to the people he cares about, but that’s his own fault.)

the sharp clap of hyunwoo’s hands snap him from his thoughts. changkyun flinches at the sound, torn between feeling relieved at being saved from his own thoughts and feeling dread because this means he has to move. dance. “let’s get started,” the leader says quietly, sending the rest of them his signature awkward-yet-endearing smile.

as he stands, changkyun winces when a sharp ache shoots through his ribs, biting his lip to muffle a whimper. none of his hyungs take notice of the pained expression on his face as they get into position, and for that changkyun’s thankful. he doesn’t want to burden them anymore than he already has.

he can do this (don’t be weak).

the deep thrum of the music’s bass rumbles through changkyun’s head painfully, forcing his vision to swim. the dizziness sweeps over him in waves as they keep dancing, and changkyun has to force himself not to throw up whenever they pause. the nausea worsens with every rushed movement until changkyun’s stumbling over someone’s foot, knocking the both of them over.

“fuck,” someone curses, hoseok, as they tumble to the floor harshly. the sound of changkyun’s pained gasp as his head hits the ground is swallowed by the heated shout that passes the older vocalist’s lips, “watch where you’re stepping!”

changkyun squeezes his eyes shut, pushing back tears as the back of his head throbs painfully, hands flying up to cover his head protectively. he can’t see what’s happening around him, but the lights are flashing behind his eyelids and he can hear the rest of his hyungs rustling around loudly.

(angry. they’re angry, because of changkyun- because he’s fucking everything up again. “you can’t do anything right, can you,”  hyunsik purrs into the open air, mocking, teasing.)

something cold touches his burning forehead and changkyun flinches back, whimpering at the pain radiating off his skull. it’s too hot, he gasps, curling in on himself, it hurts. changkyun knows he needs to calm down (needs to stop making a scene), but the panic is already seeping deep into his skin and he can't stop it. his breath starts to get heavy, hard, lungs clogged with thick smoke and dusty ash.

the hand is back on his forehead but changkyun too panic-dazed to feel anything but the sting of the cold against his hot skin. his fingers and his toes are tingling numbly but changkyun is hyper aware of his own pain. with every breathless gasp that leaves his mouth, changkyun’s head pulses angrily.

make it stop, he grits his teeth, trying to bite back the sobs trying to force their way out. the noises around him bleed in and out, like his ears are clogged with water - he can’t make out what his hyungs are saying, what they’re doing, but he knows they’re not happy (with him). he knows.

a pair of arms snake under his shoulders to tug him off the ground carefully. changkyun can hear someone speaking (to him, maybe?) but he can’t make out the words. he can’t concentrate on anything besides the panic, the pain; finally, the dam bursts and fat tears fall down his cheeks. changkyun doesn’t even realise he’sscreaming until something covers his mouth to muffle it.

“shh, changkyun-ah,” someone whispers frantically, the pitch of his voice heightened by fright and worry. “Manager-hyung is here, we’re gonna take you to the hospital, okay?”

the voice is soothing and soft, though filled with a fear that sounds much too unnatural. the mention of manager runs his blood cold, but the moment jinsoo’s - their second manager - voice pierces through the quieted room, changkyun’s shoulders relax. not hyunsik, he reminds himself, like a mantra, holding onto the reassurance as if it could protect him (and maybe it would? with hyunsik gone, changkyun is safe). not hyunsik.

changkyun barely feels himself being carried through the halls, only curling deeper into the pair of arms holding him up. his head, cradled by his own protective arms, is pillowed carefully on a muscled chest, barely twitching in between his carrier’s gentle steps and his own grip.

“it’s okay, changkyun-ah,” this time it’s hyunwoo’s voice, whispering reassuringly - changkyun can recognise that soft baritone anywhere. “don’t go to sleep, okay? we need you to be awake.”

he wants to listen to hyunwoo. changkyun wants nothing more than to open his eyes and look at the obvious expression of worry on his hyung’s face, the pinched eyebrows, the pouted lip - he wants to look up and tell hyunwoo that he’s fine. but he’s not, and he’s so tired.

(tired of fighting. tired of pretending.)

changkyun manages to force his eyes open, just enough to catch sight of the company van approaching them, but as soon as he does his vision blacks out and changkyun’s head falls back against hyunwoo’s shoulder. the numbness in his limbs is spreading and the tingle in his fingers is kind of painful, even the pain in his ribs is frozen - but the throbbing in his skull is still red hot.

changkyun blacks out again as they step closer to the van, unable to hold his arms up any longer. am i going to die? the thought runs through his mind passively, through the haze and the dizziness, but as the smoke in his lungs wraps around his limbs, his throat, the will to care fades away with his consciousness.

that’s okay…

the first thing changkyun notices when he rouses is the dulled thudding in his head.  the pain he felt before isn’t as sharp or dizzying as it had been, but changkyun knows it’ll come back (it always does). there’s a migraine still pulsing through his head but he feels fuzzy, almost numb. his eyes blink open slowly, squinting at the soft prang of pain that shoots through his skull because of the bright light. where am i, he wonders briefly, pushing himself up with much difficulty. he can’t really feel his limbs - while a little tingly with retreating numbness, they felt much too heavy.

the last thing he remembers doing is falling over hoseok after a particularly hard run-through of their choreography, and then the feeling of someone smashing his head into the ground again and again. changkyun wishes they just brought him back to the dorm, but knowing his luck, that wasn’t the case. one quick swipe of the room (pale walls, a medical waste disposal box, among other medical tools) confirms his worst nightmare; hospital.

a shock of panic runs through changkyun, forcing him to jolt up in his spot as his heart pounds quickly in his chest. do they know? the protective paper laid under him crinkles loudly with his sudden movement, and changkyun’s eyes fly around the room in alarm.

(they can’t know they can’t.)

his breath catches in his chest once the door creaks open; changkyun’s eyes fly towards the figures walking through the door. a doctor, tall and covered in a sleek white lab coat, strolls through the door with jinsoo and hyunwoo following close behind. “Ah, you’re up,” the doctor greets quietly, looking at changkyun with a comforting smile. “i was starting to get a little worried there.”

changkyun says nothing, even as the doctor takes a seat on the stool across from changkyun. he can feel his heart beat quicker and quicker in his chest once again - but jinsoo places a reassuring hand on the back of changkyun neck to steady him and hyunwoo takes a seat beside him. changkyun can’t look at either of them, especially hyunwoo - knowing that it’s his fault that they’re here, wasting their valuable time, leaves a sour taste in his mouth.

it’s okay, changkyun tries to convince himself, looking down at himself and almost sighing in relief when he notices his own clothes, still in tact, it’s okay. “w-what happened,” he asks, voice hoarse and scratchy.

“well, changkyun-ssi,” the doctor starts, “from what i’ve gathered, you must have hit your head when you fell earlier, and the trauma, mixed with physical exertion, are most likely the reasons you fell unconscious. there’s no break in the skin, but there is some bruising on the back of your head. it’s been about two hours since you were brought here, but i’m going to need to check you over before you get to leave. ”

at jinsoo’s sigh of relief, the doctor is quick to interject, “hopefully there won’t be any permanent damage. you just need to take it easy for a few weeks; stay away from bright lights, especially phones, televisions, and computers, as well as don’t over-exert yourself physically, and make sure you ice your head when you return home. i would advise not participating in physical activity or anything that can strain your body until the pain has gone away.”

the doctor looks like he wants to say more but stops himself short, and jinsoo is quick to pick up on that. “is... there anything else we should be concerned about?”

the doctor tilts his head, looking over changkyun briefly, “nothing too big, but changkyun-ssi?” the brunet’s eyes fly up at the question of his name, “the bruising… while it could possibly be the severity of the fall, but the bruising on the back of your head is already very dark… did you hit your head sometime before this?”

changkyun’s blood runs cold; he can feel hyunwoo’s eyes pointed at him, with an almost judging look. did you hit your head sometime before this? the memory of hyunsik roughly shoving his head against the wall flashes through his mind. yes, changkyun wants to say, suddenly wanting to spill everything - but he can’t. they can’t know, he reminds himself. so he shakes his head carefully, curling his fists into each other on his lap and trying to ignore the hot feeling of his hyung’s suspicious gaze. “no, n-not that i know of,” he lies, looking down at his shoes to avoid the doctor’s worried ones. there’s too much attention on him, too much pressure, prodding and poking for answers he (wants to) can’t give. the small room feels much more suffocating than it had when changkyun woke up.

the doctor, luckily, after a few more questions, checks changkyun over once more before giving him the “okay” to leave. as the doctor bids them farewell, his words sit uncomfortably on changkyun shoulders - “no dance practice”. how does the doctor expect him to do that - he can’t do that. changkyun doesn’t have the right to just… laze around like that. especially not when he’s already too far behind the rest of his hyungs.

hoseok walks through the door once the doctor is gone and changkyun is almost glad nobody else follows after him - he’s not sure if he can take seeing all of their disappointed faces at once. he doesn’t look up at the vocalist either, glare trained onto his feet. the cold throngs of fear are slipping around his lungs once again, the suffocating feeling from earlier intensifying as his hyungs surround him. there’s nowhere to hide from these three pairs of prying eyes, nowhere to run once changkyun submits to the urge to break.

“changkyun,” hoseok’s voice breaks through the deafening silence and snaps changkyun out of his stupor. “tell us the truth, yeah?”

startled, changkyun has to force his voice to stay steady, “what are you talking about, hyung?” he laughs, but hoseok interrupts him coldly - and only then does changkyun realise he’d been listening to their conversation through the door. nosey as always.

“you didn’t hit your head that hard, changkyunnie. you barely touched the ground before i caught you.”

panic shoots through his veins (he knows, heknowsheknowsheknows). hoseok’s eyes barrow daggers into his skin and the hair on the back of changkyun’s neck stands straight. beside him, hyunwoo shifts uncomfortably. changkyun’s body feels heavy, seconds away from crumbling under the weight of the pressure - it’s too much, look at what you’ve done changkyun.  “what are you talking about, hoseok?”

hoseok’s pale cheeks bleed a soft red to match his frustrated worry, eyes still glaring sharply towards changkyun bowed head, “I’m saying, there’s no way just that could’ve resulted in him passing out like that. i’m not stupid, it takes more than that for someone to pass out.”

the room is silent for a while as hoseok’s words stew in the air, but then jinsoo’s feet move towards them slowly, “changkyun, if you were hurt before this-”

changkyun interrupts him, shaking his head frantically. the movement makes his vision shake but his body refuses to stay still, heart beating like a boxer against his ribs. “N-no, hyung-”

“changkyun,” hoseok’s sharp voice forces his words to die in his throat, the god-awful taste of bile rising in his throat at the sheer tone of anger in his voice (hoseok has never been good at controlling his emotions). hyunwoo’s hand settles gently on his shoulder, pressing unintentionally against a tender bruise but changkyun doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe, even as his leader’s calm voice takes over, “changkyun-ah, please tell us the truth.”

he doesn’t say anything, can’t say anything between the lack of oxygen in his lungs and the panic blinding his mind. they must take his silence as a confirmation because seconds later he hears jinsoo’s sigh with startling clarity, and it feels like lead has replaced his blood when the chipped words fly out of their annoyed manager’s mouth. “changkyun,” the manager snaps, exasperated, “all of this could have been avoided if you spoke up for once. it’s not fair to you, and not fair to any of your hyungs, when you let yourself get hurt and then hide it. next time something happens, tell us immediately so we don’t have to waste all this time for something that could’ve been handled easily.”

the words are harsh, but through the haze changkyun doesn’t catch the worried lilt in their manager’s voice. Changkyun knew he was wasting their time, but hearing those very words pass from jinsoo’s voice solidifies his insecurities. what did i tell you? hyunsik laughs coldly into changkyun’s ringing ears, can’t even take care of yourself, so you have to burden your precious hyungs like this. even hoseok, sweet hoseok, can’t stand you right now. how pathetic.

with a still-bowed head and now shame-reddened cheeks, changkyun heaves a weak apology, “i... i’m sorry.”

he doesn’t make a sound as jinsoo herds them out of the hospital and into the van. hoseok is silent beside him too, but changkyun can feel the anger rolling off of him in waves. it makes changkyun sick to his stomach knowing that he’s the reason for hoseok’s fury. the atmosphere around them is cold and barren - too much does it remind changkyun of their first meeting, on that stupid survival show in that stupid restaurant. the feeling of alone hits him just as bad as it had before, just as painful, but just as deserved. 

(he doesn’t want to go back to that, but changkyun knows it was only a matter of time before he does.)

changkyun makes a beeline to his shared bedroom once they get back to the dorm, ignoring the four others in favour of burying himself under his covers. the shaking in his fingers had started halfway through their trek back to the dorm, and changkyun was barely able to hold himself together long enough to make it inside. weak, weak, weak, he chides, finally letting his tears slip. they knew, they knew he was hurt and now they’re angry, all of them, and it’s all his fault.

can’t do anything but make trouble, huh, changkyun? he shoves a shaking knuckle between his teeth to muffle his sob, but it does nothing to quell the wet hiccups from raking his chest. everything feels raw, the dorm much colder than it’s ever been - all because of changkyun, because of him and his stupid problems and his stupid weakness. contempt stirs in his chest, a well acquainted curtain of self-hate clawing it’s way up to the surface once again. with nothing to protect himself from it’s claws, changkyun let’s himself fall into the abyss of his own truth.

his bitten nails, like sharp claws, scratch into the soft flesh of his thighs until he feels the sting of an open wound, the wet feeling of blood beneath his fingernails feels like a sweet release against the pressure in his head, his heart. the controlled pain is grounding, from his canines digging roughly into his knuckle to the nails digging tender wounds into his thighs - it pulls changkyun back from the hole he was too close to falling into. he lets himself break, then, safely hidden under his blankets and away from his hyungs’ cold eyes and disappointmented expressions, with the flow of blood and tears serving a reminder that hyunsik was right.

he deserves this.

(hyunsik will be angry when he finds out changkyun went to the hospital for something as stupid as this, but for some reason, changkyun isn’t scared. while the idea of being alone with an angry hyunsik is nothing changkyun isn’t already familiar with, there’s usually an underlying fear of the man swimming under changkyun's skin. but now, there’s nothing - changkyun supposes he should be grateful, but he’s not.)

as his tears fade, so does everything else. the fear, the pain, everything. he can hear the bustling of his hyungs through the closed door, the smell of food assaulting his nose.  laughing bitterly, changkyun pulls his knuckle from between his teeth with blood on his tongue. they hadn’t even called him when dinner arrived, but changkyun shakes away the bitterness - they already gave up on you, remember? nothing ever changed, truthfully. the promises of brotherhood were - are - just lies for the camera, after all. it’s only a matter of time before they all realize how much of a burden changkyun is and leave him behind; today must have been the breaking point. the noise echoing through the door confirms it. changkyun feels like an idiot for ever letting himself get close, letting himself get weak ; this is what hyunsik was trying to tell him, why he’s trying to help him, and changkyun’s only now realising it.

(he let himself get too comfortable in a place he doesn’t belong, with people he’s not worthy of, and this is his punishment.)

“ it’s okay," changkyun whispers, bloodshot eyes staring blankly at the ceiling above him. i won’t be a problem anymore, he promises silently. he can take this, changkyun needs to. he’ll do everything in his power to stop causing trouble, stay out of their way and just do what he’s supposed to.

(even if he has to take a step back and watch from afar; as long as they’re smiling, changkyun can deal with it.)

the emptiness in his chest is like a gaping void, and within a blink, it’s like he’s back on the couch with nothing but his aches and his tears to keep him company. it’s okay, he tells himself, again and again, curling his knees up to his chest tightly, it’s okay.

(it’s a desolate feeling, but this is what changkyun deserves, remember? )

when changkyun wakes up in the morning, things almost seem okay. jooheon is snoring underneath him, dead to the world, and kihyun and hoseok can be heard bickering about something (probably trivial) in the kitchen. under the guise of a warm atmosphere, changkyun almost forgets about the concussion wracking his brain. almost forgets the god-awful emptiness in his chest.

until kihyun barges in through the bedroom door calling for breakfast in an unusually pinched voice and the peaceful dream is shattered. changkyun heaves himself up off the bed, a rush of vertigo passing through him at the sudden movement - suddenly, the thought of food is nauseating. a shaky groan slips past his lips as changkyun lets his body fall back onto the mattress.

“what are you doing,” kihyun barks, slapping his clothed leg gently, “get up.”

changkyun flinches, drawing his abused leg closer to his body. his hand rests faintly against his stomach, “i don’t… i don’t feel well, hyung.”

“changkyun-ah…” kihyun’s eyes soften but changkyun forces down the yearning ache in his chest; it’s not real. the pink haired man shakes his head stubbornly, “no, you need to eat. you’re staying home for the day and you’re going to behave, alright? you’ve got a concussion, and that means you’re going to take care of yourself.”

changkyun wants to argue - he opens his mouth to do so - but kihyun levels him with a look that sends a cold chill down his spine. so he bows his head and nods, lets his body drop down onto the ground to follow kihyun into the hall. his feet drag behind him, vision swimming as his concussed brain protests at the bright lights of the kitchen. kihyun’s hand is gentle on his shoulder, guiding him to his spot at the table, and changkyun tries not to lean into the comforting touch.

(it feels like forever since someone’s touched him like this, soft and gentle and well meaning. he’s so used to the pain, so used to having to worry about someone pushing him too hard, touching him too rough, that this… soft touches and gentle holds - it’s unexpected.

even jinsoo’s hand on his shoulder, in the doctor’s office, left him tense with unintentional fear.. something deep in the back of his mind was telling him to watch out, waiting for the pain, but the only thing to surface was a strange sense of comfort.)

as... as comforting as the touch is, kihyun’s hand makes him uncomfortable. he’s going to become weak (weaker) if he lets himself lean on them again. so, after stomping out the bud of guilt blooming in his chest, changkyun pulls away from kihyun quickly, sliding into his seat without sparing another glance to the older man.

(he doesn't see the way kihyun's expression falls, defeated.)

breakfast is relatively silent. there's small talk here and there, but changkyun doesn’t miss the tense atmosphere surrounding all of them. like glass, it's like everything they worked for shattered the night before - because of changkyun concussion, because of his own damn stupidity. they were already walking on thin ice because of him, for him, and now he’s done nothing but make it worse.

the food in his bowl looks less appealing than it had before, suddenly, a wave of nausea washing over him. silently, changkyun slides away from the table to take his almost full bowl back to the kitchen. he barely makes it to the kitchenette before the bowl clatters sharply onto the counter as his stomach lurches, curling himself over the sink in case he throws up. he wasn’t lying, earlier - his stomach does hurt, like all his anxiety decided to try and force it’s way back up his throat in the form of vomit (the thick-cut tension at the table only made the feeling worse).

changkyun startles when a hand lands on the small of his back, choking on his spit. “changkyun?” it’s hyunwoo, all gentle hands and hesitant words,  “what’s wrong?”

changkyun shakes his head weakly. he tries to lean away from the touch, but between hyunwoo and the sink, there’s nowhere for changkyun to go. “i-i’m fine,” he gags around his words, blinking away blurry vision, “m’st’ve ate too much.”

if hyunwoo notices the barely-eaten food in his bowl, he says nothing - instead, his hand runs down changkyun’s spine in an action that should be placating, yet it makes the knot in his stomach tighter. but hyunwoo doesn’t take the cue, he doesn’t notice the way changkyun’s shoulder start to shake under his hand. he only pulls away when kihyun rushes into the kitchen with a bottle of water in his hands.

“here, changkyun-ah,” the vocalist says, his tone apologetic and soft as he uncaps the bottle, pressing it to changkyun chapped lips, “i’m sorry, i should have listened when you said you weren’t feeling well. this’ll help settle your stomach.”

changkyun almost laughs, swallowing down his dry, bitter snort with the first gulp of room-temperature water. kihyun was only trying to be a good hyung (no matter how much changkyun didn’t deserve his kindness), there’s nothing to apologise for - changkyun ’s the one who should be apologising. he’s the one who should be grovelling at their feet, begging for forgiveness (like he hasn’t already lost every shred of dignity) so their kindness isn’t wasted on someone so… undeserving.

(it’s a little fucked up, the more he thinks about it, how low he considers himself. though, he thinks, it’s only the truth.)

before he knows it, changkyun’s laid out on the couch, a soft pillow under his head and a blanket tucked around him. he can’t quite recall how he got here - clearly, at least. somewhere in between kihyun’s apologies and the water, changkyun threw up again. his empty stomach aches but somehow, he doesn’t really mind. the feeling takes his thoughts away from the pounding in his head, and if he concentrates on it, his gnawing insecurity goes with it.

“don’t get up unless you need to, no television, and don’t go on your phone,” kihyun nags gently, pausing briefly, “but make sure you call hyunsik-hyung if you need help, or if you’re feeling pain.” changkyun flinches at hyunsik’s name (he’s definitely not going to be calling), looking away as kihyun levels him with a stern look, ‘promise me, changkyun.”

still looking away, changkyun nods. his voice is barely above a whisper when he says, “i promise.”

the rest of them rush out soon after that, and when the door clicks closed with a soft slam, changkyun lets his body fall lax. the dorm is unsettling when he’s alone, too quiet and lifeless - but changkyun figures it suits him (also quiet and lifeless) more than anything. but being alone, in the deafening silence, in a place filled with some of his best and worst memories, gives changkyun too much freedom to travel to places he knows he shouldn’t.

his thoughts raged against him like his worst enemy, let themselves loose the longer he sat there. he thinks, and that’s one thing changkyun always makes sure not to do. but right now, it’s all he can do. with his barriers dead and gone, stripped away from him like wool on a sheep, everything tries to shove their way forward at the same time.

it’s overwhelming and it makes his brain throb, but changkyun doesn’t do anything to stop it. instead, he closes his eyes and embraces the suffocating feeling of his own insecurities. they press harshly against him in a way that’s almost comforting, and maybe it’s the concussion, or maybe it’s his bone-deep exhaustion, but changkyun starts to drift off to sleep again. wrapped up in the blanket, almost too hot, he lets himself forget the pain in his bones, the migraine, the racing thoughts.

(there’s nothing he can possibly fuck up if he falls asleep, right?)

he wakes up after who-knows-how-long, feeling immensely worse than before. it’s like all his aches, previously numbed and forgotten, have been poked and prodded, and his head swims with dizziness. he’s too hot, sweat dripping down his face, but all of that is almost buried under the burning in his veins. there’s an itch under his skin, pressing against sensitive veins and fragile skin. changkyun chokes on the irrational wave of panic that rushes through him - he needs to get up.

it hurts, he chokes, shakily pushing himself up off the couch. he needs to stop it, needs to stamp out the fire. changkyun’s hands shake when he stumbles towards the bathroom, fingers scratching weakly against the walls as he tries to hold himself up.

he doesn’t know why he’s panicking - it’s over-dramatic, unnecessary ( ike him), but it’s there and he just wants it to stopstopstopstop-

his back hits the edge of the tub painfully, the rim digging into his bruises, but changkyun doesn’t care. his hands shakily sift through his toiletry bag, hissing in relief as his fingers scrape against the sharp edge of a razor blade.

cold, comforting relief rushes through him when the skin on his hips splits, hot blood running sweetly down his fingers. you’re fucked, hyunsik tells him, a familiar tone of disgust in his voice, what would they think if they saw you like this? changkyun’s laugh is empty, hateful, as the blade rips up his sensitive skin.

what would they think? hyungwon's disgusted sneer and kihyun’s cold glare flash through his mind - no doubt they’d hate him, they’d probably call him over-dramatic and weak and they’d hate him even more. changkyun wouldn’t even be mad, because it's what he deserves. a weakling who’s done nothing more than drag this group down. changkyun sits with teary eyes and stuttering breaths, pressing the blade in deeper when his hyung’s disappointed faces get clearer in his vision, look at you, changkyun.

another empty laugh tumbles from his trembling lips, a pitiful sob following after it. he sits there for a while, coated in his own blood and crying like a baby. changkyun stopped cutting once his sobs started, clutching the blade recklessly in his hand and letting the slice in his palm anchor him down (but hyunsik is still there, still mocking him and his pain, still ripping every last shred of dignity out of him).

the bathroom is cold, much like the dorm, much like changkyun. he doesn’t want to be here anymore, changkyun doesn’t want this. he doesn’t want the thoughts, he doesn’t want the pain, the stress, the weakness - changkyun wants it all to stop.

20 minutes later, changkyun breathes in the air like a greedy man, letting the stale air fill his lungs and clear his mind. sitting here, with blood caking his fingers and ripped skin, a bruised body and a broken heart, changkyun has nothing left to lose, nothing to gain. there’s nothing, he’s nothing. in that moment, it was as if something in him died. like changkyun was finally pushed past his breaking point.

“maybe he’s right,” changkyun whispers to himself in the silence, staring blankly at the bathroom ceiling. hyunsik always carried some truth to his words, after all. changkyun knows he’s the problem, he’s been trying to fix himself so he stopped being the problem - but look how far that ’s getting him.

you want to stop being so worthless? changkyun closes his eyes again, resting his head back against the rim of the tub, then change yourself.

“change myself,” changkyun mouths, absent-mindedly cleaning up all the spilled blood and flushing it down the toilet. with his razor hidden back in his bag and his jeans pulled up to hide the marks on his hips, changkyun drops himself back onto the couch. his cuts burn when he lays on his stomach, but again, the controlled pain is more of a comfort than anything else. he shifts, ever so slightly, just to feel the sting of his wounds dragging across the hem of his jeans. he presses incessant fingers against his most tender bruises. anything, anything, to distract himself.

loneliness prods at him like an chisle the longer he lays there with nothing but the silence to accompany him. staring at the blackened television, changkyun doesn’t move from his position on the couch until it’s well into the evening. he hears the front door open, hears the rest of his bandmates file in too loudly, but he still doesn’t move. he feels kihyun lean over him and check his temperature, hears him ask a question changkyun only hums at.

well into the night, unable to find sleep once again, changkyun stares at the blank television in silence.

 
change myself.

the next few days pass by in a blur. changkyun can’t quite force himself out of bed until long after the rest of them have left, the food left out for him staying cold and untouched. his stomach starts to protest sometime after the third (second? fourth?) day without eating, but changkyun just can’t. he can’t even stand looking at the food without wanting to be sick, mixed feelings of both guilt and anger and disappointment and anxiety leaving his head whirling and his stomach churning.

the cuts on his hips sting with every move, scraping against the hem of his sweats, but changkyun relishes in the pain, the burn. there’s blood caked under his torn fingernails, forgotten and dirty and gross (like him), from all the times he’s dug his fingers into the stinging wounds on his hips in order to feel something, anything other than empty.

someone always checks on him before they leave, tries to talk to him, but changkyun barely remembers what they’ve said before he’s pulled back down into the haze. today it’s minhyuk (or is it hoseok?), big, soft hands petting the back of his head and running down his back, touching him as if he’s going to break (maybe he is). changkyun wants to pull away from whoever it is, the supposed-to-be comforting touch only leaves him feeling worse. he doesn’t want to feel their gentleness, their care - changkyun doesn’t deserve it. he whispers something changkyun doesn’t hear, but then there’s a kiss pressed to the back of his head before minhyuk (hoseok?) leaves the bedroom.

as soon as the dorm’s front door clicks shut, changkyun let’s his tears fall. they’re hot against his cold cheeks, salty trails of his hopelessness. “tears are for the weak,” he mutters to himself.

but that’s exactly what you are. weak.  

changkyun’s eyes squeeze shut as the taloned grip of hyunsik’s words come back to wrap around his thoughts like a strangling vine. stop it, he chides, pressing his fists against his eyes roughly, you can’t be weak anymore. you can’t be a burden again. colour bleeds behind his eyelids as his knuckles dig into the hollow of his eyes. he takes a breath, and then another, and another, until his lungs are full. the smoke is suffocating, blackening his lungs and choking him out, but it’s okay. it’s fine.

the cloud passes after a while and changkyun feels infinite times worse. changkyun’s stomach prangs with hunger, but the darkened room shakes when he finally pries his eyes open and his his limbs feel too light, yet too heavy, to move. he doesn’t want to get up anyway, doesn’t want to leave the safe, solitary security of his cocoon of blankets. i’m fine, he reminds himself.

another some hours pass without notice. by the time changkyun brings himself back the front door is creaking open and the dorm fills his boisterous conversation. he tries his best to ignore it, tries to push down the burn in his chest, and shoves his head under the pillow (the bruise on his head protests to his roughness, but changkyun doesn’t really care anymore). he lets himself fade away into the noise, the static, lying numbly and not quite there.

(he both hates and loves the feeling of not feeling anything. no pain, no guilt, no hurt, but it’s suffocating and at times, terrifying.)

changkyun doesn’t register the hand on his back until he’s shaken, and he flinches away from the touch, curling his arms tighter around the pillow over his head.

“baby?” it’s minhyuk, for sure, with a pretty voice tightened with something akin to worry and softened by care, “you didn’t eat the food kihyunnie left for you. does your stomach still hurt?”

changkyun doesn’t answer - can’t answer, but he hopes minhyuk takes it as a hint to leave him alone (he doesn’t deserve to be spoken to so tenderly, not yet). minhyuk’s hand moves to rest on his shoulder, and then curls around changkyun’s hand, and changkyun tries not to tear himself away. “changkyunnie, come on, talk to me. your hyungs are worried about you, baby, please-”

when minhyuk tries to pull the pillow away, changkyun can’t hold himself back. his chest aches (frustration or loneliness, which is it?), white rushing over his vision as he rips his hand, his arm, from minhyuk’s soft grip and sits up. “don’t touch me,” he hisses, unintentionally, glaring at minhyuk’s nose because he can’t bring himself to look into the man’s warm eyes, “i’m fine, minhyuk-hyung.”

even to changkyun, himself, he sounds far from fine. his voice cracks around every word, throat parched and dry - changkyun isn’t even sure how he managed to choke out his words around lump in his throat, but he did, and minhyuk makes a sound. a soft, sad noise that almost resembles the whimper of an injured puppy.

“yah, changkyun,” minhyuk says after a moment, his voice shaking, “d-don’t speak to your hyung like that! tell me what’s wrong.”

minhyuk, for all the sweetness in him, it’s rivaled by his stubbornness, and changkyun knows this. changkyun also knows the shake in his voice is only there when he’s caught off guard, hurt. changkyun’s chest aches for his hyung, the familiar feeling of wanting to apologise and grovel until minhyuk forgives him returning.

stop. his head is throbbing. his eyes burn and his hips sting and his stomach hurts.

“i'm fine, hyung.” is all changkyun says, finality lacing his hoarse voice. be strong, minhyuk deserves better than you anyway. he tries to ignore the misplaced sense of betrayal when minhyuk huffs and storms out of the room, curling tighter under his blankets.

(it doesn’t work.)

changkyun wakes up again, this time to a sharp pain in his stomach. he manages to muffle his gasp, curling his arms tightly around his stomach to relieve the pain. his eyes take in the darkened bedroom, blinking away the blurriness in his vision. he can hear jooheon’s soft snoring from the bunk below him, and one look over the edge of the bed confirms that both kihyun and minhyuk are both sound asleep. he’s not sure what time is it, but changkyun knows it’s late.

carefully, wincing as his stomach pangs with pain again, changkyun makes his way down the bunk bed ladder, padding out of the room silently. his legs shake under him, toes tingling numbly with every step, but he’s careful not to make any noise as he enters the darkened kitchen.

he fills a glass with water, sliding down against one of the bottom cupboards until his butt hits the cold floor, giving his tired legs a rest. changkyun can barely keep his eyes open, even after he’s sat down, and when he raises the glass to his lips, he catches his hands shaking the same way they’d been earlier. (it’s a side effect of having not eaten these last few days, he knows, but what good will eating do when he’ll just end up throwing it back up?)

he whimpers as the cold water slides down his dry throat, the water uncomfortable in his empty stomach - but it’s better than nothing. changkyun lets himself sit there for a few minutes, curled up on the kitchen floor. the silence in the dorm isn’t as cold as it had been, it’s almost… peaceful, with (almost) all of them peacefully asleep. it’s comforting, in a way. there’s no judgement, so anger, only soft breaths and tired men.

changkyun wiggles his numb toes and bites onto the edge of the cup when pain shoots through his stomach again. the cuts on his hips burn uncomfortably with his position, but changkyun doesn’t want to get up, not yet. he wants to sit here, surrounded by nothing and protected by the tired silence. strangely enough, when he’d woken up, aside from the pain in his stomach, changkyun felt okay. the whirlwind of negativity and hate is absent.

(or maybe you’re just too broken to feel it anymore?)

his eyes slip shut, the glass still held between his teeth even as his breathing evens out. changkyun’s thoughts are still for once, non-threatening and docile. he knows the reprieve won’t last - god, they come few and far in between, but he supposes it’s okay to let himself take advantage of it. just this once.

“changkyun-ah? what are you doing up?”

startled, the glass almost flies from his hands and changkyun’s eyes snap open, flying over to hoseok. the kitchen is bathed in soft lighting once hoseok walks closer, yawning behind his hand. “it’s like, 3am,” he sighs stopping in front of changkyun’s socked feet, “you should be in bed.”

changkyun can’t find his words, still gaping up at hoseok like an idiot. no no no, he mutters silently, pulling his lip between his teeth, go away. he doesn’t want to see hoseok. changkyun doesn’t want to relive the anger on his hyung’s face again. “w-water,” is all he manages to say, voice barely above a whisper.

hoseok nods, mouth dropping open softly as he looks at the empty cup in changkyun shaking hands. changkyun watches him purse his lips, stomach tumbling with something other than his stomach ache (you’ve made him angry and it’s barely been a minute, a voice snickers into his ear, good job). changkyun looks down at the ground shamefully, fully expecting the man to turn around and leave him to himself again.

but to his surprise, hoseok drops down in front of him, sitting criss-cross. “hey, ‘kyun,” he starts softly, drumming on the floor right in front of changkyun left foot, not quite touching but still too close. his voice is just as quiet as changkyun’s was, but there’s something in it that has changkyun heart dropping to his feet, “i know you weren’t telling the truth, back in the doctor’s office.”

changkyun doesn’t look up, ice in his veins. hoseok... hoseok couldn’t possibly have figured it out, he - he just couldn’t. “now, i don’t know what you’re hiding, exactly, but,” hoseok continues in that warm, gentle voice of his, placing his hand on changkyun’s knee, “whatever it is… changkyunnie, i know it’s hurting you- we know it’s hurting you.”

changkyun shakes under hoseok’s hand, tears welling up in his eyes and he wants to curse for being so weak (stop crying stop crying stop it). hoseok’s touch is almost too hot when he brings his palms up to hold changkyun’s cheeks, a comforting flame against frozen skin. thumbs wipe away the water falling from the corners of his eyes, and when changkyun looks up, his heart stutters at the expression on the vocalist’s face.

hoseok’s eyebrows are pinched, bottom lip pulled between his teeth. he looks… worried, almost heartbroken, as he looks down at changkyun. but…. there’s no way that expression when for him… right?

(hoseok-hyung’s always been the most empathetic of the bunch, hasn’t he? it’s only natural that he gets like this when the people around him are troubled.)

“changkyun, you can come to me, to any of us,” he whispers, voice wobbling over his words, and the infliction does nothing but make the suppressed feeling of guilt rise doubly in changkyun’s chest. “we’re your hyungs, baby, let us take care of you.”

suddenly, the warmth burns and changkyun wants it to stop. he pries himself out of hoseok’s hold, shooting up on trembling legs. his sudden movement knocks hoseok back with a gasp, but changkyun doesn’t notice. “i’m fine, hyung. i said i was fine,” the words come out weaker than he wanted them to, nothing more than a pathetic whimper of breath, but he says them nonetheless.

the cup drops with a muted clink into the sink, and save for changkyun stuttering breath the kitchen is silent. changkyun doesn’t look at hoseok as he leaves - can’t look at him (he can’t bear to see hoseok’s heartbroken face). and hoseok doesn’t stop him, he’s silent, eerily so.

as he treks shakily back to his bedroom, changkyun can’t help but feel like something has broken. something, he’s not sure he can repair.

(and it’s all his fault.)

changkyun’s back in action two days later. the throbbing in the back of his head has long since disappeared (morphed into an endless migraine, but it's fine, he’s fine ) but he’s still not allowed to dance, to practice for another week. he watches as they practice and improve and work hard while he sits on his ass and does nothing (not that he could do much anyway, in the state he’s in), or hides away in one of the empty studios, burying himself pages of lyrics that can’t be used.

though more often than not, he spends the group practice days in his studio, hiding like a coward because he can’t stand being in the same room as the rest of them, knowing and feeling just how useless he is, knowing how much he’s ruining. changkyun can’t explain it but, after hoseok approached him in the kitchen, things… changed. it’s as if they’re back to square one, right after no.mercy but this time… it's different this time. this time things feel...

hopeless.

it’s as if there’s a wall built up between them and changkyun, reinforced and bulletproof and he doesn’t know what to do - so he lets it be. it’s his own fault, and maybe it’s for the best anyway. this way, he won’t bother them while he tries to fix himself, make him worthy of being here. “ you don’t deserve it ,” hyunsik keeps telling him, but changkyun already knows, the whole world knows.

(he doesn’t deserve it. not now, maybe not ever, but with hyunsik’s help, maybe he will, one day.)

so he does what he can do be a good maknae instead. it’s the least he can do for them while after constantly burdening them. like a good maknae, he’s quiet and complacent, he listens when they tell him to do something, or when the managers come around to monitor him. the change is nothing big, but it’s a step in the right direction of what he needs to be.

nobody really bothers him anymore, really. hyunwoo already has too much on his plate, between his duties as leader and working on their comeback, and kihyun’s long since given up on him, minhyuk skirts around him, while hoseok stares (glares?) at him from behind. changkyun hasn’t seen much of hyungwon, in between his own schedule and changkyun’s cowardice, but jooehon…  jooheon hovers around him still, but he’s hesitant and careful, as if he’s afraid to approach - something he’s never been before.

and that hurts most, because changkyun knows this is his fault, the distance and the tenseness but he can’t do anything to change it. changkyun never thought he could fuck things up even more, but no matter what he does, he makes everything worse. as much as he tries to convince himself, it’s for the best, it’ll be okay, he knows it’s not. he knows he’s tearing everything they’ve worked for apart. he guilt starts to pile up more and more so changkyun does what he knows how to to best: he runs. he finds himself spending more and more time in the practice rooms, the studio, working himself until he’s too exhausted to feel the aching in his muscles (and his heart), working to catch up to the others, to be perfect - but nothing he does is ever perfect and changkyun is drowning.

nobody seems to notice - or care - when changkyun starts staying back later, missing meals and rarely coming back to the dorms with the rest of them, or even at all. nobody gives him strange looks or questions him anymore when he parts with them after their group practices, but changkyun’s okay with it (or, as okay with it as he can be). they have other things to worry about, they don’t need to waste their time on him. the break in between promotions means changkyun doesn’t have to worry too much about covering up the increasing amount of discolouration painting his skin - but it also means more time for hyunsik to throw him around however he likes.

changkyun tries not to mind - truthfully, he doesn’t that much anymore. by now, he can barely register the pain from every much-deserved hit. it’s the confusing confliction of betrayal with acceptance that bothers him most, now. he knows, somewhere deep down, that what’s happening is bad, that hyunsik is bad and that changkyun should get away, but he also knows that this is his own fault, that he’s dug himself into this hole of self-hatred, that hyunsik wants to help him get of that place, to be better.

whichever one to listen to, changkyun doesn’t know. he’s already poisoned with his own negativity, drowning in it, and with every passing day the saccharine yet painful words hyunsik whispers to him become more and more alluring.

(and more and more true.)

plus, lately hyunsik’s been softer on him, so maybe changkyun’s finally doing something right? he’s stopped berating him for every little thing, patting his head and stroking his back whenever changkyun does something to please him, smiling at him with no malice (almost kindly ). "You’re finally getting somewhere, changkyun-ah,” he’d whisper, “maybe you aren’t as worthless as everyone initially thought.” he thought he was improving, he thought hyunsik’s help was finally paying off, he thought that maybe, maybe, he was finally strong enough to be the person everyone wanted him to be.

it’s shameful how quickly changkyun let himself fall into that misplaced sense of security. he should have known. nothing good ever comes to him, for him, because he doesn’t deserve it. he should have known. it’s this day, after a particularly awful group practice that left nobody happy, that changkyun finally learns to stop expecting anything good.

the door to his studio slams open, and the moment hyunsik strides through, eyes cold and a familiar, sickeningly giddy smirk pulling at his lips, all hope left in his chest is crushed. “changkyun-ah,” hyunsik hums in that same kind drawl he’d been using for the last few days.

i should have known.

changkyun’s heart races painfully in  his chest as hyunsik leaves, fingers wound tightly into the fabric over his heart. the sound of the  studio door slamming shut once again seems to shift the air back to reality, and changkyun heaves and chokes and vomits into the waste bin beside his desk. his throat feels as if it’s closing on him, choking him for air even as he heaves and heaves and heaves.

the phantom weight of hyunsik’s fingers on his jaw are a solemn reminder of what happened, what will happen (changkyun hopes, dearly, that he doesn’t bruise). the man had been so angry, so infuriated for a reason changkyun just couldn’t understand. the sheer look of anger and… something  in his eyes after he’d stormed in, glaring at changkyun as if he were the reason it was there - like he had done something unforgivable.

(and maybe he had.)

hyunsik had done nothing more than shove him back against the corner of his desk, grab his jaw, and threaten him, but god, somehow it felt worse than any beating he’s gotten so far. “you better keep your mouth shut, ” hyunsik had growled, with his nails digging painfully on the underside of his jaw, “ or else.”

(somewhere in his mind he knows what that “or else” meant, he knows, he knows.)

changkyun sobs hoarsely into the waste bin, throwing up nothing but stomach acid and spit at this point, but the clogging in his throat just wouldn’t go away. it crawls up his esophagus and swells, it bleeds through his chest and clogs his lungs, it’s choking him. changkyun can feel the snot running from his nose and the tears falling from his eyes, spit and vomit dripping from his mouth, gross, messy, but he can’t do anything but let the panic drag him under its weighted claws and pull him under.

he doesn’t remember passing out, but the next time he opens his eyes his phone is ringing and the clock reads 12:27 A.M. his face feels gross, dried tears and snot and spit flaking off as he wipes at it, mind almost numb to the fact that despite him sleeping (passing out, more like) for a straight 11 hours, he feels worse. his cellphone ringing brings him out of his stupor, and changkyun gasps as jooheon’s name flashes across the screen. fuck, he thinks, looking back and forth between the clock and jooheon’s name.

“where the hell are you?” is the first thing jooheon says when he picks up, voice tight through the speaker. “we have practice in half an hour and you didn’t even come back last night.”

changkyun stutters over his words, jaw stiff as he tries to form words. “i-” changkyun winces when his voice cracks, subtly clearing his throat, “i m-must’ve fallen asleep in my studio… sorry hyung…”

jooheon sighs through the phone, and his next words are so clipped that changkyun heart skips a beat as guilt settles in his stomach, “it’s not me you should be apologising to. just get over here before 1, okay?”

the call ends after that, with nothing more than changkyun weak affirmation as a goodbye. I… he thinks, eyes stinging with tears, i did it again. his stomach churns with anxiety and he almost throws up again (but there’s really nothing left to choke up, now is there?), but he pushes it down and forces himself up off the ground. changkyun’s knees crack and his back throbs from where hyunsik had shoved him against the desk, and as soon as he stands the world spins on it’s axis and sends him stumbling - but other than that, he’s fine. this is nothing, he can deal with this.

i’m fine.

it’s 12:40 by the time he makes it out of his studio, quickly ducking into the bathroom to fix his clothes and wash his face and check his jaw for bruising (thankfully, there’s none, but the small, sharp indents of hyunsik’s fingers are still left on his skin). he looks just as awful as he feels, but changkyun sucks in a breath and shakes his head; i’m fine. it’s only a few hours.

he makes it to the practice room, just as the clock hits 12:57, and all of his hyungs turn to look (glare) at him as he walks through the door. changkyun averts his eyes, anxiety curling further in his stomach - he can’t bare it, to look at them, to see their faces contorting with disappointment and annoyance, can’t bare to see them look at him the same way they did during no.mercy. but the moment he looks away, he locks eyes with hyunsik, standing alongside their other manager, and every hair on his body stands up on edge.

(hyunsik sends him a smile and a wink, and changkyun feels like he’s going to pass out.)

“ah, changkyunnie, decided to join us, have you? you’re right on time.” the jovial tone in hyunsik’s voice is forced and stiff, but nobody else seems to acknowledge it (or care). he nods towards the rest of the group, doing their stretches around the practice room, “go ahead, we still have some time before you guys start. the choreographer seems to be running a bit late too.”

changkyun nods meekly, shuffling away to one of the corners of the room, away from his hyungs, away from the managers, but hyunsik’s eyes are still trained on him, predatory. from the corner of his eye, he catches kihyun glance over at him before muttering something to hoseok, sees minhyuk lean over to chime in - too quietly for changkyun to hear, but he knows they’re talking about him.

(they know, the voice tells him, they know how pathetic you are, they know you spent the night crying like the baby you are. they’re tired of it, tired of you.)

practice is stressful. between the shaking in his weak limbs and the fear of hyunsik’s eyes on him, changkyun keep stumbling and lagging behind and mixing up movements. he can feel the rest of them getting more and more irritated but he can’t keep up, not with hyunsik’s eyes trained on him and him only, not when he can barely find the strength to pick up his limbs. his lungs rattle with exertion and exhaustion and that nasty itch under his skin comes back, leaving him to scratch at the skin of his arms and pick at the healing cuts on his thighs until they’re stinging, bubbling blood under his black sweats.

(their managers leave halfway through the practice, but changkyun can still feel him, hovering and leering.)

nobody says anything for awhile, but he knows, knows, they’re thinking it. “if changkyun weren’t here,” if he weren’t here, they wouldn’t be so behind, his hyungs wouldn’t be getting snappy and irritated with one another, their choreographer wouldn’t be yelling at them to do it again, do it again, every time they (changkyun) mess up the steps and stumble and fall.

by the time the clock strikes 5, they’ve only been able to get a few good, full run-throughs of the choreography and changkyun feels completely awful. their choreographer calls practice to an end then, sighing and leaving them with an empty “good job today, boys” before he’s gone. changkyun crouches down tiredly, legs shaking with the strain of keeping himself up and his vision blacking out. the practice room door opens and shuts roughly, and changkyun’s afraid to look up to see who’d left - so he doesn’t. keeps his head down even as more of his hyungs leave, one after the other.

(it all goes by in a blur, and changkyun’s too far gone to really register more than that.)

“are you staying?” someone asks, voice soft yet rough, and changkyun looks up to meet hyunwoo’s tired eyes. the man is holding a water bottle out to changkyun, and he hesitantly takes it between his shaking fingers. the man’s voice nor his face betray anything, any he doesn’t sound hostile, but changkyun knows, he fucking knows that hyunwoo is just as angry as the rest of them, he knows that hyunwoo is cursing him and wishing he weren’t here, just like the rest of them, he knows -

“changkyun?”

“y-yeah,” changkyun answers quickly, fiddling with the water bottle. they’re stagnant for a bit, silence hanging stale in the air, but before hyunwoo can leave, the apology flies from changkyun’s chapped lips, “i-i’m sorry, hyung… it’s b-because of me that….”

“It’s fine, changkun-ah.” hyunwoo’s hand comes to rest on the top of his head, ruffling his hair with a gentleness that made changkyun want to cry. “you’ve had it a bit… rough lately. anyone would be struggling.”

“rough” is an understatement, changkyun almost laughs, bitterly, but he swallows the ugly emotion until he can’t feel it anymore. this is my own fault, anyway , he reminds himself. he’s just saying that because it’s his job. don’t delude yourself, changkyun.

the practice room is silent again, before hyunwoo speaks again, “don’t overwork yourself, okay?”

and just like that, hyunwoo was gone, leaving changkyun to his own thoughts.

changkyun manages to get in a good few more hours of practice, moving until he loses feeling in his legs, coming to an abrupt halt as his knees buckle and he drops to the wooden floor harshly. sweat pours down his face, drenching his shirt, leaving his hair to stick wetly to his forehead - changkyun doesn’t need to look in the mirrors to know he’s disgusting (but is there any difference normally? don’t be ashamed now, changkyun, you’ve been disgusting your whole life). he barely manages to catch himself before slamming his face against the floor, his hands stinging with the force of his fall.

changkyun coughs raspily against the floor, eyes rolling back as dizziness starts to cloud his head. stop being so weak, he tries to tell himself, biting back his tears when pain shoots through his empty stomach, when his thighs, ripped open and bleeding once again, sting as he moves. stop being weak, stop it, stop it stop it-

“yah, why are you slacking?"

changkyun freezes halfway through pushing himself back up when hyunsik’s voice cuts through the blaring music. he doesn’t dare look up as the sound immediately cuts off, leaving changkyun’s struggling breath and hyunsik’s approaching footsteps as the only sounds left in the room.

the footsteps stop in front of his bowed head, and changkyun’s blood runs ice cold. “who said you could slack, you brat. especially after slacking off so much already…” the cold touch of the tip of hyunsik’s shoe against his chin is almost comforting in a way, but when hyunsik forces changkyun’s head up, he knows this means nothing good. nothing good at all.

no.

“looks like i’m just gonna have to teach you another lesson on not slacking off, huh?

no no no-

hyunsik kicks out his foot against his jaw and changkyun flies back, landing heavily on his ass. he has to bite down his scream of pain, hyunsik doesn’t like it when he’s loud, he doesn’t, he doesn’t, he doesn’t like it when i’m loud-

“get up. now.”

his limbs are numb, icy blood racing through his veins and fear-induced adrenaline the only reason he’s able to stand on his own two legs. his fingers tremble at his sides, wrapping around his stomach when hyunsik takes a step closer, and closer, and closer, until the tips of their shoes are pressed together. the look of absolute terror on his face must not be hidden very well because hyunsik tilts his head and sends changkyun a smile. “you’re so cute, you know that, changkyun-ah?”

changkyun flinches at the compliment, forcing himself not to curl away when hyunsik’s fingers trail softly down his damp cheeks, dance down his neck, his arms, his sides, until they rest at his hips. changkyun can’t breath, can’t move - this, this is new (this is bad, stop it stop). “so... so cute…”

without warning, hyunsik shoves him back against one of the wall mirrors, and changkyun cries out. “but you’re also so, so pathetic.”

the first punch is expected, but it doesn’t hurt any less. hyunsik drives his fist into changkyun’s thinning stomach, knocking the air right out of him but leaving him no time to collect it before he’s pulling back to do it again. “you,” he starts, growling the word, “just can’t fucking appreciate everything i’ve been doing for you, can you?”

pain explodes in his stomach and changkyun wants to throw up again, it hurts so much, and hyunsik has his other arm against his neck now, keeps pushing and pushing and pushing until he can’t breathe. “s-stop,” changkyun cries, struggling underneath the arm pressed up against his neck. stop it, he wants to cry, to scream and plead and beg, but nothing comes out.

“just... be good for me, for once, yeah?” hyunsik’s voice, though still carrying the same force as before, are softer, slower now - and somehow, that’s more terrifying. he loosens his arm just enough for changkyun to take a greedy breath of air. “be good for me, changkyun-ah….”

hyunsik’s fist drops open and his hand lands on changkyun’s stinging thigh, trailing up softly until it rests against his hip again. cold, ugly horror rips at changkyun’s brain once more, but everything he wants to say is clogged in his blocked throat; no, nononono no no , i don’t-

(you deserve this, just do one thing right for once, changkyun)

no, no, no no-

“and maybe…”

(you’re nothing but a toy, you mean nothing, changkyun)

i don’t want-

“you’ll get a reward...”

“stop it !” changkyun wails in pain as he throws one of his knees up, kneeing hyunsik right between the legs and catching him off guard enough that changkyun can slip out from under his arm. hyunsik only stumbles back, yelping in pain, but changkyun throws himself as far as he can, sobbing pathetically. i can’t- i can’t do this anymore i can’t i can’t i can’t-

“you fucking brat,” changkyun hears hyunsik snarl behind him, and changkyun squeezes his eyes shut, fingers curling against the floor as the man gets closer.

i’m sorry, hyungs, he sobs, gasping wetly when hyunsik kicks him in the back and knocks him over again, a fear so strong for his life pulsing through his veins. it’s all a blur after that, a flurry of numbness and pain as hyunsik leaps onto him and starts to beat him with a hatred changkyun hasn’t seen before. he can’t fight back, he can’t do anything but raise his arms to protect his face, his neck, legs flailing under them with every painful, agonising blow, and every unwanted touch.

it fucking hurts and changkyun doesn’t know how much more he can take. he doesn’t even register his own screaming until hyunsik tells him to shut the fuck up, can’t feel anything but the aftershock of pain and the blood running from his own face.

pathetic, his brain tells him, hyunsik tells him.

(and they’re right. he’s pathetic. he can’t even do anything but sit here and take it like the weak, pathetic bitch he is.)

“you’re better off dead,” hyunsik spits at him before he leaves, however long later, when changkyun’s eyes are unfocused and bruised and there’s a small pool of blood forming beside his head.

(yeah, maybe i am.) 

changkyun’s eyes slip shut, too heavy against the strain of keeping them open. his nose throbs and his head is light. every breath rattles his chest painfully and changkyun wants to die. he’s nothing, never was, never will be - nothing more than a burden.

pathetic.

weak.

(he hopes this kills him. he hopes the strain on his body lets his heart give out, hopes the loss of blood is too much, he hopes, he hopes, he hopes -)

“holy shit, changkyun!"

“where’s changkyun?” hoseok looks up as hyunwoo trudges into the living area, a frown pulling at his lips. “is he still not back?”

hoseok shakes his head, glancing between hyunwoo and the clock. 10:49 p.m it read, bright numbers glowing in the low light of the room. “not that i know of,” hoseok replies quietly, “it wouldn’t surprise me if he stayed there the whole night again…”

he catches the way hyunwoo bites his lip unsurely and looks away. at this point, it wouldn’t surprise anyone if changkyun just started living in the company building instead of with them in the dorms. hoseok isn’t sure what’s gotten into their maknae, but he knows it’s nothing good - they all know. changkyun’s barely been in the dorm over the last few weeks, and whenever he is, he stays away from the rest, curling up in bed or hiding away in the bathroom. he doesn’t know what happened, if something even happened at all , but obviously it must be something bad for changkyun to be acting out the way he is.

staying out late and not even coming back home sometimes… the lashing out and the skipped meals and the blatant avoidance… nothing in that is good and its just getting worse ; hoseok knows. they all know. changkyun can barely even look them in the eyes anymore, and nobody knows what’s going on - even the managers are at a loss. everybody is.

(he has to wonder… what did they do to upset changkyun so greatly? surely it… had to be them right?)

“well i don’t know about you lot, but i’m tired of this.” kihyun slides out of the kitchen, a mug held tightly in his hands. his pink hair is ruffled and the bags under his eyes are ever prominent; hoseok winces, between working on their comeback and changkyun’s… unusual behaviour, they’re all exhausted. “he’s been overworking himself. i can see it, everyone can fucking see it- he’s going to make himself sick,” kihyun snaps, irritation hiding the worry in his voice, “he can’t keep going on like this, and i’m done letting him do this to himself. letting him come to us obviously isn’t fucking working anymore, so either you go get him, or i’m going to march down there and drag his ass back myself.”

kihyun’s heated words lay heavily on the other two. he’s got a point, hoseok thinks, frowning at kihyun’s flustered face. when changkyun started getting worse, more irritable and jumpy, they resolved to just… let him come to them , because the more they pushed the worse changkyun got… but… kihyun’s right, changkyun’s been more lethargic and pale and sickly than they’ve ever seen him, and they all know changkyun isn’t going to be able to continue on like this. everything in hoseok’s heart is telling him something is wrong, there are so many warning signs but still, nobody can figure them out.

“that doesn’t change the fact that he doesn’t want our help, kihyunnie. what makes you think he’s going to come back with you,” is all hoseok can say.

kihyun’s glare sharpens and yeah, hoseok probably deserves that, but it’s true. out of them all, kihyun’s been the one changkyun avoided most - out of them all, kihyun would be the last person he wants to be with right now, as far as they know. kihyun opens his mouth to reply, but is hesitantly cut off by hyunwoo, “he’s right kihyun-ah… you and changkyun haven’t really been on the… best of terms…”

when kihyun tries to open his mouth again, hoseok continues, “i’ll  go get him! I’ll bring jooheon, and hopefully then we’ll be able to convince him to come home. none of us will let him stay there tonight, promise.”

kihyun still looks apprehensive, but he nods, and hoseok lets out a sigh as hyunwoo nudges kihyun back towards his room. kihyun’s probably coming down with something, he bites his lip in worry, slipping on his coat and shoving his feet into his shoes.

(with kihyun sick and changkyun… acting out, hoseok’s a little worried about how their comeback will turn out. it’s kind of a selfish thought, he surmises, what with everything going on, but… he can’t shake that worry… he doesn’t want them to fail… but he knows, his bandmates, his family, comes first.)

he’s snapped out of his thoughts by a nudge, and hoseok looks up to see jooheon’s sleepy pout directed at him. he smiles, a little bit, letting jooheon nudge him again. “yah, hyung, you’re going to scare someone off with that expression.”

snickering, hoseok knocks jooheon away from him, and and then they’re off. the air outside is cold, but hoseok doesn’t care very much right now - his mind too busy spinning circles around changkyun. hoseok hopes the brunette is warm, he hopes he’s not straining himself more than he has to, hopes he’s found something to eat (but he knows… hoseok knows the answer is probably no). worry scratches at his chest more the closer they get to the company building, his fingers fidget in his pockets, clenching and unclenching around his sleeves. jooheon’s feet scuff heavily against the ground, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth.

(hoseok hopes, for their sake, for changkyun’s sake, that they can bring their maknae home tonight.)

he hopes. hoseok hopes and hopes and hopes  they all do - but hoseok… he feels (knows) that something is wrong the minute they find changkyun’s studio empty, save for the waste bin full of vomit, so he hopes harder than he ever has. with his heart racing in his chest, he hopes and he hopes and he hopes.

nothing could prepare them (him) for what happens next. nothing prepares them (him) for the sight they find when they step inside the practice room. nothing prepares them (him) for the sight of their youngest, their changkyun, stained with what hoseok hopes to god isn’t blood (it is- it is it is it is-)

hoseok can’t look away from the scene, stopped in the doorway, limbs frozen with both horror and disgust and shock. his heart races in his chest, only getting quicker and quicker the longer he stares, the longer he looks at the crumbled body of their maknae. he can’t look away from the small but alarming pool of blood drying beside changkyun’s head, can’t look away from the still body curled up on the floor in front of the mirrors - can’t look away from changkyun, their changkyun (bleeding, broken, unmoving-)

“holy shit, changkyun! ”

the sound of jooheon’s horrified yell is enough for hoseok to snap himself out of his shock, and he pushes himself forward until he can drop down onto his knees beside changkyun’s head. hoseok’s hands tremble as he runs them over changkyun’s back gently, releasing a shaky sigh of relief as his back stutters with breath under his fingers. at the touch, changkyun lets out a choked cry, nothing more than a muffled whimper, flinching and trembling and god fucking dammit hoseok’s stomach churns with unimaginable dread - changkyun is terrified.

“changkyunnie…” he calls softly, his voice trembling, “changkyun, baby, it’s hyung, h...hyung is here now…” hoseok can feel himself crying now, tears clouding his eyes, but he can’t yet he can’t he has to stay strong right now. “i’m going to move you, changkyun, can you h-hear me? i’m going to m-move you,” his voice cracks and he isn’t sure changkyun could even understand what he’s saying at the moment, but he hopes his voice is enough because he has to see… he has to see how bad it is.

hoseok lays his hands carefully behind changkyun’s head, turning it away from where it was buried in his arms, and hoseok’s heart drops into his stomach. changkyun’s nose, heavily bruised but not visibly broken (hopefully), is still bleeding, his lip is split and one of his eyes is swollen shut - there’s a large bruise extending from cheekbone to cheekbone, over the bridge of his nose, but his face is so bathed in blood hoseok can barely see it under the red.

(he wants to throw up, oh god.)

the moment hoseok moves him, changkyun almost yells, but the sound is cut off, forcefully choked out, but hoseok hushes him anyway, sniffling back ugly snot and forcing away his tears as the boy under his hands starts to hyperventilate. “sh… shh, changkyunnie, hyung is here, hoseok hyung is here,” he whispers, struggling to keep changkyun’s head up without hurting him further.

he doesn’t know where jooheon is, but he just can’t take his eyes off of changkyun long enough to look around. he can’t risk it, afraid that the moment he looks away, changkyun will be… gone.

but a moment later, another pair of hands are sliding under changkyun’s body, as gentle as possible. jooheon helps slide changkyun up enough so he rests safely against hoseok’s chest, head leaned back against hoseok’s shoulder. from this angle, both of them can see the bruise darkening around changkyun’s throat - hosoek freezes, someone choked him.

jooheon’s face is both grief-stricken and simmering with anger, his glare watery and wide and mirroring the expression hoseok knows is on his face. changkyun sputters out a cough and suddenly, his cheeks are wet with tears too. “It’s okay, changkyun-ah,” jooheon tries, soothing his hand through changkyun’s sweat-and-blood soaked hair,, “hyungs are here… we’re going to clean you up a bit a-and then call an ambu-”

“no !” the word is forced through clenched teeth, panic-stricken and barely audible, but changkyun’s body tenses up further in their arms. “n-no call, no ambulance,” he wheezes a cough, “i’m sorry- i’m s-sorry- don’t hurt-”

“shh,” hoseok soothes, shooting jooheon a look of alarm as changkyun struggles in his arms, “okay- it’s okay, nobody’s going to hurt you, baby, don’t apologise.” he presses his nose into changkyun’s hair, heart breaking. “we won’t- we won’t call.” not now, at least.

Jooheon pulls away to grab a towel and a water bottle from beside him, fingers clumsily ripping the cap off and soaking the corner of the towel before he presses it gently to changkyun’s nose. the brunet lets out a muffled wail, panicking, but hoseok holds onto him more securely, pressing changkyun as close to his chest as he can without hurting him.

“it’s just jooheon, changkyun-ah,” jooheon tries, voice trembling around his own tears, but he keeps speaking, rambling on with more and more useless stuff but hoseok is thankful because changkyun calms down in his arms the longer jooheon speaks.

once the blood is gone, and changkyuns head lolls back lazily against hoseok’s shoulder, the two can easily see how bad the bruising is. there are fingerprints around his neck, and hoseok catches sight of bruises hiding down changkyun’s shirt- and with the way he flinched every time hoseok touches his sides… hoseok worries he might have some broken ribs.

jooheon’s breath is heavy, his now-empty fists clenched at his sides, and hoseok understands his anger. he feels it deep in his chest, simmering further with every scared whimper and sound of pain that changkyun lets out. he wants to scream, to yell and demand to know who the fuck ever thought they could get away with laying their dirty hands on changkyun, he wants to punch something, to wrap changkyun up in his arms and hide him away - but he can’t, and he knows jooheon shares the same sentiment.

(as much as they want to, they can’t. they have to be careful.)

“changkyunnie,” hoseok whispers, after a few minutes, when jooheon’s hands are tangled together with changkyun’s and the boy’s breathing has evened out. “changkyun, can you hear me?”

it takes a moment, but changkyun hums raspily, and hoseok continues. “good…” he clenches and unclenches his fists, taking a steadying breath, “can you… can you tell us what happened?”

changkyun tenses again, whimpering and jooheon quickly shakes his head, so hoseok backtracks, “just… just tell us where you’re hurt, then… and then we’ll see if we can bring you home, okay? kihyunnie and hyunwoo-hyung are waiting for us.”

jooheon’s eyes water when changkyun’s own finally start to flutter open, his pupils are dilated and his gaze is unfocused, but he keeps his eyes open. hoseok watches jooheon squeeze his hands tighter around changkyun’s, and after another few moments, changkyun’s mouth starts moving.

“hurts…” he starts, and his raspy voice is barely heard over his own heavy breathing, “h...head, ‘nd back… ‘nd chest…”

changkyun’s breath hitches again, “h-hyung- hyung i-it really hurts… i w-want to go home.”

hoseok pulls changkyun closer to him still, carefully, holding him steady when his sobs start to rise again. “it’s okay now, baby, we’ll take care of you, you’re coming home” is all hoseok can say, repeating it against changkyun’s ear as he sways the both of them soothingly, eyes trained on jooheon and changkyun’s entwined fingers. the anger grows, and bleeds, angry, protective smoke soaking his lungs and crawling out of his pores.

he watches as jooheon quietly extracts himself from changkyun, giving his hand one last reassuring squeeze, before standing up stiffly. hoseok’s heart aches for the lost look of sadness in jooheon’s eyes - to see his best friend like this, so hurt that he can barely speak, barely move, so terrified out of his goddamn mind… jooheon, bleeding-heart jooheon, hoseok knows he’s beating himself up inside for not being here to protect changkyun.

(because hoseok is doing the same.)

with changkyun settled against his chest, eyes fallen shut but heart still beating like a jackrabbit under his ribcage, hoseok knows they can’t just take him home. there’s no doubt that something is sprained, if not broken - whether its his ribs or his nose. and they can’t dress his wounds properly, they can’t tell how hard his head was hit or how bad his injuries actually are, no matter how much they wish they could. changkyun... changkyun didn’t want to go to the hospital, and finally, hoseok gets it. at least, he thinks he does, now.

changkyun didn’t, doesn’t, want to cause a scene. he doesn’t want to bother the rest of them. it all hits hoseok with a painful and startling clarity, the reason for changkyun’s actions these last few months. whatever happened here tonight… it wasn’t the first time.

oh… my god, hoseok’s breath catches in his throat as it sinks in, this wasn’t the first time.

unconsciously, his grip tightens around changkyun’s hands, as if to ground himself, to quell the shaking in his own hands and remind himself that changkyun is still there with them. hoseok can feel the hot tears sliding down his cheeks but he doesn’t move to wipe them away.

how had he not seen it earlier? hoseok prided himself on being so in-tune with the rest of his bandmates, he was always observing - but how had me missed this? the strange concussion… the bruises changkyun tries to hide… the flinching, the crying, the fear and the lashing out… somebody’s been hurting changkyun - whoever did this, has been doing it for a while now. how did i not realise?

changkyun twitches in his arms, a subdued whimper falling from his lips, and hoseok’s heart breaks all over again. he sends a look over to jooheon who was still pacing the practice room, raking his eyes over the dark-haired rapper’s horrified yet angry expression, the way his hands shook as he bit at his nails, eyes still trained on his unmoving best friend even as he paced. they couldn’t take changkyun home, not like this - and both of them know it.

“jooheon-ah,” hoseok calls, his voice breaking, “i know… i know he doesn’t want us to, but we can’t bring him home. please, call an ambulance.”

jooheon wastes barely a moment, stopping in his tracks with brief hesitation, before stumbling over to his discarded cellphone and clumsily dialing. hoseok tunes out his voice, training his focus back onto changkyun. i’m sorry baby, he whispers silently, running his thumb gently over the back of the brunet’s cold hands, “you’ll be home soon, okay?”

the boy says nothing, and soon jooheon joins the two of them again, his twitching fingers taking hold of changkyun’s other hand. in a tense silence, with only changkyun’s raspy breathing to fill the air, they wait.

it’s barely fifteen minutes later that the paramedics arrive, and soon after that, jooheon and hoseok and seated in the back of the ambulance along with changkyun’s unconscious body. the noise of the ambulance and the bustle of the paramedics stresses hoseok out - his hand is clasped tight around jooheon’s, the two of them holding on for comfort, for reassurance as they watch changkyun being taken care of. time passes like a blur and they soon find themselves wrapped around each other in the hospital waiting room.

hoseok feels almost… numb. dissociated. never… never would he have thought that one day he’d be waiting on his heels in the waiting room of a hospital, unknowing of whether or not one of his closest friends, his bandmate, would be alright. he can feel jooheon shaking beside him, a slight tremble in his hold; and hoseok looks over.

the rapper’s eyes are red and puffy, his lips ripped by worrying teeth, and legs bouncing anxiously. hoseok squeezes his hand to catch his attention; “h-he’ll be okay, jooheonie…”

for a moment, jooheon just stares at him, but then a choked laugh falls from his lips. “what if he doesn’t, hyung? what- what if he doesn’t make it because w-we weren’t- because i wasn’t there for him?” jooheon’s voice breaks and wobbles, “we could have stopped this! he’s my best friend… i didn’t even… i was too afraid of setting him off, that i just l-left him… w-we should have s-seen it hyung… we should have protected him…”

hoseok wraps himself around jooheon, letting the younger man muffle his cries into his neck. hoseok can feel his own tears start to well up again, biting back his own sobs - he has to stay strong for his dongsaengs. he has to. he rubs jooheon’s back soothingly, drawing his own comfort from the embrace. “he’ll be okay,” he whispers again, reassuring, even if he doesn’t know if he believes it himself.

once jooheon calms down enough to stop his tears, the two of them lean on each other as they sit in the waiting room. hoseok knows they should call their members, if not at least their manager - so he does. he calls hyunsik first, but the call goes to voicemail - so he calls jinsoo, who picks up immediately.

“hoseok? you never call this late, what’s wrong? ”

hoseok hesitates, stumbling over his words, “i… hyung, we’re at the hospital-”

“hospital? hoseok are you alright, what happened? ”

“no,” hoseok shakes his head, scrunching his nose as he chokes out the words, “n-o, i’m fine, but changkyun… hyung…” his voice cracks again, then, “jooheon and i found him… changkyun’s r-really hurt a-and i don’t-”

he catches the sound of jinsoo’s sharp intake of breath, and a moment later the man interrupts him, “calm down, hoseok. thank you for calling me; i’ll tell the rest and get over there as soon as i can, okay? have you called hyunsik? ”

“i... i called him, but there was no answer…”

“hm… alright, i’ll try and contact him too,” jinsoo sighs, frazzled, before continuing softly, "just try to stay calm, okay? take some deep breaths, it’ll be okay. i’ll see you in a little while, okay? ”

“okay,” hoseok replies, softly, listening to the dull sound of the dial-tone drum into his ear. it’ll all be okay, he repeats. changkyun will be okay.

he has to be.

jooheon is… numb. jinsoo had rushed to get them to the hospital before hesitantly leaving to get the others, with the promise of giving jooheon a call once they’re on their way.. they’ve been in the waiting room for two hours and still nothing, no second phone call from jinsoo, no arrival of the rest of his bandmates, no updates about changkyun -- but at the very least with nothing, means no doctor has come to solemnly inform them “im changkyun has passed”... yet, his brain oh-so-helpfully supplies, and jooheon’s fist clenches tighter around the hem of his bloodied shirt.

    he takes a quick glance over at hoseok, curled up at his side, eyes wet and thumb caught between his teeth. his light-coloured shirt is stained the ugly red of their friend’s dried blood, his hands stained pink much like jooheon’s (to an outsider, it would look as if the two had just been reckless with some red dye… but jooheon knows.. hoseok knows… everyone in this waiting room knows it’s never that innocent). the two had scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed at their hands but the stain just wouldn’t seem to leave. jooheon looks back down at his hands. pink fingertips, pink nails, pink palms, pink, pink, pink.

    (pink stains. dried blood. lots of blood. lots... of… blood…)

his breath hitches and his stomach tumbles nauseatingly, he couldn’t get the image of changkyun out of his head. couldn’t unhear changkyun’s agony-filled cries and whimpers, couldn’t unsee the terrified tremble of his body whenever jooheon dared to get close. couldn’t forget the blood. changkyun’s blood.

(it was too much, it is too much.)

jooheon lurches over with a gross choke, slapping his (blood-stained) hands over his mouth to stop himself from vomiting on the hospital floor. his mouth tastes like acid, head whirling as if he’d been on a rollercoaster for hours.

“shit,” hoseok jumps, snapping out of his fearful daze. he flags down one of the nurses for a garbage can, and carefully slides it between jooheon’s knees. “oh heony,” he whimper,s sadly, running his hand through jooheon’s sweaty hair, “it’s okay, it’ll be okay. ch..changkyunnie will be okay--”

“how do you know that!” jooheon snaps in response, curling over the garbage can a moment later and retching, choking around the acidic taste of his own vomit. it hurts, his head throbs and his heart feels like it’s being crushed in his chest and the only thing he knows will make it better is if changkyun was here, safe and sound, but he can’t be. he can’t be because he might just be on his deathbed right now, suffering and terrified and in pain and alone, away from jooheon and hoseok and the rest of them, oh god he must be scared i-

the nauseating fear doubles, and jooheon feels tears gather in his eyes once again. the images flash behind his closed eyes, over and over and over and over, it’s too much. it’s too much . “how can you say that hyung… you saw him… you saw-”

a hand wraps firmly around the nape of jooheon’s neck a second later, hoseok’s shaking fingers rubbing gentle circles on his skin. “I…” the singer starts, his voice sounding just as weak as jooheon feels. “i don’t know, okay, jooheon? i don’t know if he’s going to be okay or if he’s going to be stuck here forever or if he’s going to- to die . but what i do know is that acting like this isn’t going to help anybody,  especially changkyun. h-he needs us, heony, he needs us to be strong and to believe in him,” hoseok’s voice cracks around his words, “we have to believe in him. it’s the only thing we can do right now… i-if we believe in him, he’ll be back with us and okay in no time, alright?”

jooheon can feel the terrified tremble in hoseok’s limbs and that’s enough to know the older man doesn’t quite believe his own words, but it’s the only thing he has to hold onto. he’s right,  jooheon chastises himself, spitting once more into the foul-smelling can under him, we have to believe in changkyun, we can’t… we can’t give up on him again.

“o-okay… okay,” he sniffles, biting back another wave of tears as he sits up carefully. his face is a disgusting mess of snot, spit, and tears, and jooheon wastes no time in snatching the tissue from hoseok’s hand to wipe it off. he carefully boots the can out from under him and sits back in the uncomfortable waiting room chair. it’ll be okay, he repeats to himself, under his breath (he knows if he stops, the memories will come back in a rush and jooheon will be curled over that trash bin once more). his hand finds hoseok’s and together the two of them sit, fingers entwined painfully tight, their only anchor as they wai to learn of their loved one’s fate.

(it’ll be okay. it’ll be okay. it’ll be okay. it’ll be okay…)

“jooheon! hyung!”

jooheon’s head snaps up at the sound of his name, the movement knocking hoseok off his shoulder roughly. he blinks away the drowsiness behind his eyelids, mind a bit hazy - did he fall asleep? how did he fall asleep? hoseok’s hand is still tangled with his own, but he guesses somehow the two of them must have succumbed to the exhausting… events of a few hours before. speaking of--

he looks up to where he heard the call of him name, and his face falls in relief as he spots kihyun’s head of pink hair jogging up to the two of them. “kihyun-hyung,” he tries to greet but winces afterwards as his voice comes out hoarse and broken.

the vocalist says nothing, just reaches over and pulls both jooheon and a still-drowsy hoseok into a bone-crushing hug. jooheon can hear his heart racing in his chest; he’d probably already been worrying a hole into the floor the moment they left the dorm and after receiving jinsoo’s call, jooheon doesn’t doubt that kihyun might have been absolutely fearing the worst (and with good reason). he can barely see hyunwoo, hyungwon, and minhyuk over kihyun’s shoulder, but he can hear minhyuk’s heavy, off-kilter breathing.

his face falls again, and jooheon feels the tears come back to the surface, fresh as can be. “hyung,” he wails softly, wrapping one arm tightly around kihyun’s abdomen, brushing over hoseok’s still-trembling hand clenched around the back of the vocalist’s jacket as he does. “i-it was s-so b-b-bad,” he sobs, “kyunnie--”

“i know baby, i know,” kihyun whispers against the top of jooheon’s head, tone soft and tearful, “jinsoo-hyung… told us most of what happened…”

from beside him, hoseok let out another audible sob, and kihyun’s arms wrapped tighter around the both of them. now that the rest of them were here, it felt almost… too real. the slight hope that this was all just some fucked up nightmare was crushed the moment he caught sight of kihyun’s face - this was real, what happened to changkyun… was real . someone real dared to put their hands on changkyun, on their dongsaeng.

“oh my fucking god,” he wails angrily, pulling back from kihyun roughly. “i can’t- i can’t fucking b-believe-”

“hey,” minhyuk slides up beside jooheon, letting kihyun pull hoseok down back onto the chair. his arm slides around jooheon’s neck placatingly, “calm down jooheony, getting angry isn’t going to help anybody. all you’re gonna do is stress yourself and everyone else out.”

immediately he’s reminded of hoseok’s words from earlier, and that does nothing but make the anger growing in his stomach simmer hotter. he sends a heated glare minhyuk’s way, gaze softening at the sight of his red-rimmed eyes and raw nose - jooheon glances over at hyunwoo and hyungwon too, taking in their tired eyes and hunched postures, eyeing the way hyunwoo rubbed his hands together anxiously, the incessant bouncing on hyungwon’s legs.

“you aren’t the only one angry,” hyungwon starts, his voice low and barely audible above the hustle of the hospital, “we… we might not have seen him yet, but don’t think for a second that any of us aren’t just as angry as you are.”

jooheon has to bite back a snippy reply; he wants to start something, to release this pent up frustration and grief bottled up in him, but he knows he can’t , and he knows changkyun wouldn’t want that either. they’re all feeling this, in one way or another, jooheon guesses, they’re all… dealing. it wouldn’t be right to take this out on any of them, when the only person deserving of his ire is the one who put changkyun in the hospital in the first place.

“look, we can talk about this once jinsoo-hyung gets back,” hyunwoo finally speaks, tone just as calm and gentle as always, interrupting any small conversation, “let’s just.... collect ourselves, alright?”

with a sigh, jooheon lets himself be pulled down between minhyuk and hyunwoo, tangling his fingers with the leaders’ and watching hyungwon sit on hoseok’s other side, reaching for the man’s free hand. the resigned, sorrowful expressions on their faces probably mimic jooheon’s own; changkyun on the forethought of all of their minds.

the waiting room quiets down after a few minutes, aside from the sounds of hevay breathing and the occasional coughing and sniffling. jooheon is counting time passing on the clock across the room (two minutes… five minutes… twelve… twenty three… thirty five), eyes blank and head hazy, when somebody finally walks through the icu doors, clipboard in hand.

the nurse with the clipboard walks up to them, sending a wary-but-friendly smile jooheon’s way when he makes eye-contact with her; “two of you are lee jooheon and shin hoseok, am i correct?” the two in question sit up straighter in their seats, and the woman’s smile softens, “i’d like to speak with you both in private, about changkyun-ssi, if that’s alright?”

jooheon and hoseok share a worried glance, before nodding, but the moment the two of them stand to leave, hyunwoo calls out hesitantly, “is.. is it okay if i come along? i’m… we’re all a part of an idol group and i’m the leader and… we’re going to have to retell this to our management and it would be easier on them if there was someone else who could do that, so they don’t have to keep reliving it…”

his voice was already no louder than a gentle murmer, but with every word hyunwoo’s tone got quieter. jooheon sends him a thankful glance, and he’s sure hoseok shares the sentiment (he’s a good leader, jooheon thinks warmly. because he is). the nurse bites her lip in thought, before sighing with affirmation.

“alright, that’s fine. just follow me, please.”

with one last shaky breath, jooheon follows behind his bandmates as the nurse leads them away from the waiting room… and closer to where changkyun lay.

when changkyun wakes again (“a gain”? had he woken up already? was he already awake? or did he not even wake up at all in the first place?), the doesn’t even realise it. his head is light, airy, almost as if it were detached from his body and floating through the air - and his body… the tips of his fingers and his toes tingled with numb static, and there was a dull, almost unnoticeable throbbing of pain radiating somewhere on his body. he wasn’t too sure where. to be honest, he wasn’t too sure of much anything right now. his brain was mush, his thoughts stringing together as though they were trudging through molasses. he could hear something in the background, but it was muted, far away, so he didn’t pay it any mind. he was floating.... far, far away.

(it kind of felt good , in a way. to be so unaware, so numb, so tingly . changkyun liked this better than the pain, way better.)

his eyelids felt like lead, so he didn’t open them. that’s fine , he didn’t want to wake up anyway. he liked this. changkyun wanted to feel like this forever. he was safe here, in this little bubble of semi-consciousness; he didn’t have to think, to speak, to move, to talk. he didn’t have to pretend .

(changkyun hated playing pretend. he hated forcing his lips to smile when everything inside felt like it was being slowly ripped out bit by bit.)

and here... wherever “ here ” is, changkyun likes it. he likes it a lot. distantly, he could even hear kihyun’s voice fluttering through his ears, feel hyungwon’s long fingers wrapped up in his own - but that’s just his imagination, right? they weren’t here, they couldn’t be here, that would be silly.

this isn’t real , nothing is real.

neither of them weren’t here, because kihyun and hyungwon are real, but changkyun is not. the two of them are back at the dorms, spending time with the rest of monsta x . changkyun thinks he smiles at that (he can’t really feel it, but something warm wells up in where he thinks his heart is, at the thought of them all). i wish they were here , he thinks, or maybe he says - but the sentiment is the same anyway.

he wants them here, he wants all of them here with them; but once again, they’re real , and he’s not, so they can’t be here, right?

the thought makes that warmth turn into ice. changkyun doesn’t like this feeling, he doesn’t like the cold that shoots through him at the freezing of his heart - so he ignores it, he shoves it away and pushes it down until it disappears, and after a while, the numbness is back. here, changkyun is safe, changkyun is okay. there’s nothing that can touch him, hyunsik can’t get him anymore.

(changkyun likes this. he kind of wants to stay here; nobody will miss him anyway… so it’s okay if he stays a little longer, right?)

okay so i absolutely abhor adding authors note chapters onto my fics but this can’t really be avoided. 

1. I PROMISE this story isn’t being abandoned, i am definitely going to update as soon as i possibly can
2. the reason i haven’t updated was because of a few different things tbh... 
3. the first reason was because my mental heath took a really dangerous turn a few months ago, and things have been steadily declining both with my overall health (i had mono and then have been dealing with a plethora of cold/flu varients since, as well as there’s some cognative shit is Going Down rn) and my living situation and school. i felt as though i was in too bad of a mindset to even think about writing, and any time i did, nothing would come out. 
4. the second reason was that my laptop finally kicked the bucket (rest in peace baby you’ll be missed..... that was a good 5 years), but then my tablet’s charger cord was chewed through by my cat.... and i still havent been able to get a new one so technically the only thing i hve to write on is my phone, but like... writing on here is like going through Mega Writers Block 

i promise that as soon as i get a new charger cord i’ll be back to updating, bc honestly i miss writing my fics, but i’m not too sure how soon that will be :( just thot i should let you guys know, because i’ve accumulated quite a few curious comments!! Thank you, hope you understand. If yall have any questions or even just wanna talk, my tumblr is @softychoi or @haechanti, and my twitter is @ahgabitch! muwah 

- alek