No Tag Warnings Apply.

In all his years of working in the ER, particularly in majors, this was the most bizarre shift he had ever experienced. It had all started with a red-phone call which had spiralled out of control, somehow resulting in a quarantine zone being set up in two of the bays.

Why, you ask?

“Preliminary examinations seem to indicate measles.” Sehun nodded, voice muffled by the presence of a surgical mask. A nice little addition to everyone's uniform that fine Monday afternoon.

Gritting his teeth, Minseok hummed in acknowledgement. The two children that had been brought in by ambulance in quick succession were both from the same class in kindergarten, both presenting with flu-like symptoms that worsened as the day went along. The parents of both of the children had come in afterwards, and Minseok had been waiting to quiz them both.

A brief chat with one of the ambulance staff indicated that one of the children had a compromised immune system since they carried a medical card detailing a long list of medications. The other child, he wasn’t too sure about.

He took a moment to carefully consider his options. Measles is a virus, there is no definitive treatment other than pain and fever management. For now, he wanted the immunocompromised patient to stay for observation as the measles virus can be deadly for those who lack the immune system to fight it. He gestured for Sehun to follow him as he made his way towards the first bay, silently stepping in past the blue curtains.

The child was resting, albeit not peacefully. The parents stood as soon as Minseok entered, giving a small bow before the mother gently picked up her son's hand, being careful to avoid the cannula. 

Clearing his throat, Minseok spoke. “I appreciate that this must be a difficult time for you both but it would be helpful if you could give us some more detail regarding your son’s medical history.”

The father appeared dishevelled, hair a mess and glasses pushed back, but he took a step forward, pulling a folded piece of paper from his leather wallet. “He recently was diagnosed with chronic arthritis, he’s on a cocktail of chemotherapy drugs and immune system suppressants to try and alleviate the symptoms. Here’s the list.” he handed over the paper gently.

Minseok only scanned it quickly, he knew this boy’s illness wasn’t the result of any medication issues. Chances are he was being closely monitored whilst being on chemotherapy drugs. “What has he been vaccinated for?”

His father looked to the floor. “Nothing. The doctors said he wasn’t strong enough to handle them. We were waiting for him to come off the stronger medications to start immunising him.”

Taking it all in, he nodded. There was nothing that could really be done but hope that no complications arose. He did a brief check on his observations chart before turning to Sehun. “Page Junmyeon again. I want him on paracetamol and fluids until he’s moved and do a full blood screen. From now on only you, Junmyeon and I are to come in here, we need to minimise his contact until he’s in a more stable environment.”

Sehun acknowledged him before bowing to the parents and slipping out. Minseok waiting for him to leave before turning back to the father, a concerned expression on his face. “I take it you’re both up to date with all the vaccines?”

“Yes, all of them.”

“Good. I’m sure you both understand that he’s very susceptible to infections whilst he’s on the immunosuppressants. Right now we suspect it to be measles but nothing is confirmed.” 

At the mention of the word measles, the father swore under his breath before rubbing at his face. The mother shook her head silently, not once letting go of her grip on her son’s hand. The tension was palpable, Minseok wasn’t exactly sure what was the cause but it seemed like both of the parents knew more. “Why does it seem like you’re not surprised?”

The father sighed. “After he got put on these drugs we sent letters to the school, we even had meetings. There’s nothing in their admissions policy about immunization records, but they told us they had changed it and informed the parents that everyone needed to be up to date. Clearly, someone didn’t listen.”

“We should never have sent him back,” the mothered murmured, eyes downcast.

It did make sense, herd immunity was important but unfortunately, a lot of parents were choosing not to vaccinate. It was frustrating, for both the doctors and the immunocompromised. Minseok wasn’t a fool, he’d read the news. Cases of eradicated or completely preventable diseases such as measles were spiking, especially in younger children whose parents made an (uninformed) decision not to vaccinate out of fear of the ingredients or the disproved theories that certain vaccines were linked to autism. The increased pressure on the health services had not gone unnoticed. 

Minseok didn’t exactly know the best way to approach this whole situation, but he briefly bowed before excusing himself and leaving the family alone. Junmyeon would probably be the right person to deal with it, he must have explained the science behind vaccination and herd immunity to a countless amount of parents. The likelihood was that the other child was also unvaccinated and the carrier of the virus, the only difference was that he would have a fully functioning immune system capable of combating the virus and preventing any kind of secondary infection. Sighing, he dropped his files down at the nurse's station, scratching at the back of his head. It was all a mess.

“You okay there?” 

He didn’t jump at the question, but he was startled. When he looked up he saw Jongin standing on the other side of the nurse's station, kitted out in his scrubs and clipboard. It seemed like he’d just come out of surgery, Minseok wordlessly passed over the box of surgical masks and gestured to his own before speaking. “Run of the mill anti-vaxxers making my life harder, nothing I’m not used to.”

Jongin gently adjusted the metal noseband before humming. He was shuffling on his feet, clearly waiting for Minseok to spark a conversation between the two. A blind man could have seen it coming, there was no way Jongin was just going to stay away from the emergency department, especially after appointing himself as the on-call neurosurgeon that would liaise with the doctors and nurses. Minseok had seen him around the last couple of days, standing about, awkwardly trying to make conversation with Yixing and Sehun, looking like a lost puppy. 

“I didn’t recall there being any red phone calls with head trauma, Jongin,” Minseok said, cooly.

He could only really see Jongin’s eyes because of the mask, but it was enough to tell that the other felt scrutinised. “No, um. I wanted to talk to you actually if you have a minute.”

There was no doubt in his mind that this would be about Kyungsoo. “I’m free now, what did you want to talk about?”

“It’s about Kyungsoo.”

Minseok allowed himself a little smirk at his right guess, it wasn’t like Jongin could see. “I thought it would be. He’s staying with me.”

Jongin seemed happy to know that, albeit a little surprised. “Oh! That’s good. It makes sense, I tried to see if he was in, I thought he was just ignoring me.”

“Why do you think he would be ignoring you?” Minseok probed, fiddling with his pen as he did so. 

Jongin sighed. “I don’t know what I’ve done, but he ran off during dinner last week. I’ve been trying to call him and text him but I think my number was blocked… I just want to know what’s wrong so I can fix it.”

Narrowing his eyes, Minseok processed the information. He was pretty good at telling who was lying and who was telling the truth, it comes with working in an emergency department, but he wasn’t sure about Jongin. Either he was a pro at lying or he really didn’t know what Kyungsoo had seen. “Think hard.”

“I have! I really don’t know what’s wrong with him. I thought maybe it was something to do with his mom, or maybe we had moved too fast and I’d scared him off, I truly don’t know.” 

Minseok watched as Jongin’s brows furrowed out of frustration. The conversation was starting to get a little bit too personal, and he wasn’t sure if he was in the right to mention anything to him, but he knew that this would never be resolved if Kyungsoo was left to his own devices. He’d known Kyungsoo a long time, and he was one stubborn son of a . He weighed up his options, before coming to the conclusion that he didn’t want Kyungsoo to be living in his spare bedroom for the rest of his life.

“The texts, dude.” 

Jongin briefly looked up, confused. “What texts?”

Minseok scoffed. “Come on, don’t try to play it dumb, he saw the texts come up on your phone, the ones from your mom.”

He watched as Jongin’s mind did somersaults, trying to process what Minseok had said and make it compute. It did take a moment for him to fully realise, and when he did the colour seemed to drain from his face, reaching his hand up to touch at his mouth which was already covered. “Oh no…”

Minseok merely shook his head, picking up a pen to copy some observations off from his gloves onto paper. He considered Jongin’s reaction to be the result of guilt, or perhaps the discomfort from being found out. What a fool.

“No, please. It’s really not what it looks like, I swear.” he pleaded, but Minseok wasn’t really interested. None of this was any of his business, and this wasn’t the appropriate setting.

Stacking up some files to take to the records, he shrugged. “I’m sorry Jongin, but even if I did choose to believe you, this really isn’t the place to be having this kind of discussion. Kyungsoo reserves the right to not talk to you, especially when you’ve hurt him this way, just accept it.” 

Admittedly, Minseok was shocked. From all the pining and skulking around the emergency department, he really thought Jongin had genuine feelings for Kyungsoo. There had never been any occasion (up until now) that made Minseok think that Jongin was an untrustworthy individual. It just went to show that human beings were inherently selfish and that Jongin was an exceptionally good liar. 

He himself was lucky to have found someone that he was so compatible with. It just really that Kyungsoo had such ty luck with his love life, he really, really did not deserve it. He was loyal, headstrong and one of the most compassionate