Seungwhan is talking to Jongin’s parents. His father’s expression is stony and dark, keeping a strong grip on his wife’s waist. She hasn’t cried a single tear since she arrived at the hospital, but she’s pale and trembling uncontrollably. They’d briefly spoken when Kyungsoo was released - he only had minor injuries but the hospital staff had refused to let him go before checking if he’d suffered a concussion - but to Kyungsoo, it had almost been unbearable how she’d fussed over him and held his hands like he had seen her do with Jongin so often. It should’ve been Jongin consoling her, telling her everything was going to be okay. And looking at Jongin’s mother, who so closely resembles her son, he had felt his own heart drop down his stomach knowing Jongin was just a short distance away, fighting for his life.

Kyungsoo watches them from the other end of the hallway. It’s mostly empty - he wonders whether the few people there either haven’t recognized them or if they, too, are just desperately waiting for news from their loved ones to filter through the double doors leading to the urgent care centre. It’s probably the latter.

He catches a glimpse of his own reflection when a glass panel door opens. The left side of his face looks bruised and puffy, small strips of white tape placed across the gash in his eyebrow. It’s not deep and the doctor had assured him stitches weren’t necessary.

Chanyeol’s worse off than him, large cuts crossing his jaw and lower lip: the rapper had slammed face first against the side window when he had thrown himself over Baekhyun in an attempt to protect him.

After the accident, it takes them all a few moments to realize the severity of the situation: Chanyeol is yelling, frantically pulling at Baekhyun’s blood-stained shirt, not realizing it's his own blood dripping down in thick crimson rivulets on his friend’s clothes. Kyungsoo, dazed after being hit square in the face with a piece of luggage that was catapulted around the spinning vehicle, can hear Suho’s and Sehun’s groans next to him, and Baekhyun’s distressed shrieks - but he can't hear Jongin. Kyungsoo’s arms feel heavier than lead as he clings to the seat in front of him, trying to catch a glimpse of the younger boy in the passenger’s seat.

Jongin is slumped forward, his lower body hidden from sight underneath the deflated airbag. The door is hanging off its hinges, and the dashboard has crumpled under the impact, folded down at an odd angle that makes Kyungsoo’s stomach drop. If Jongin’s legs are trapped underneath the bent metal…

“Jongin!”

There is movement around him but he barely registers the hand coming up to his face, or how it’s covered in blood when it pulls away again. Kyungsoo doesn’t flinch when he sees the cuts on Chanyeol’s face, because Chanyeol is moving and shouting and alive while Jongin stays perfectly still, and so perfectly quiet. Too quiet.

“Please, Jongin!”

Kyungsoo is sore, but the painkillers they gave him are strong and he can already feel the drowsiness set in. Seungwhan had made arrangements for Chanyeol and him to get picked up by Kwangsoo, who would take them straight to a private hospital close to the SM building for further observation, away from prying eyes. He knew his parents had been anxious to come to the hospital but the news of the accident had spread like wildfire and hundreds of fans had gathered outside in no time, and Seungwhan had only convinced his parents to stay put after Kyungsoo had spoken to his mom himself - reassuring her he was fine (he knew he’d get an earful for lying about that later). Baekhyun, Sehun and Suho had been taken to the private clinic for a routine check-up - apparently Sehun and Suho had a couple of nasty bruises but nothing serious enough to keep them overnight. The three of them were back at the dorm already. Suho had tried to convince the management to let them come down to the hospital where Jongin was, but with the large group of fans and a few dozen reporters already crowding the hospital grounds, they had deemed it unwise to bring over the rest of the band.

Jongin’s father guides his wife to one of the seats close to the double doors which Jongin’s doctor disappeared behind. Seungwhan turns around and starts typing away on his phone, undoubtedly relaying the most recent information on Jongin’s condition to S.M. Only then, he spots Chanyeol and Kyungsoo huddled together.

“What are you two still doing out here?” His voice sounds gruff and strained, thick with worry - Kyungsoo has never seen their manager looking quite as frazzled.

“Do you have news from Jongin?” Kyungsoo asks.

“He lost a lot of blood. His condition is critical but stable. He’ll need surgery on his right ankle, but that’s not what we should worry about right now. If he makes it through the next 24 hours, they’re optimistic about his chances on a full recovery.”

“Is there anything we can do?” Chanyeol’s voice sounds muffled behind the thick bandages wrapped around his head, covering the cuts on his cheeks and ears.

Seungwhan sighs and runs his hands through his hair. “Try praying.”

Chanyeol bows his head.

“Kwangsoo will be here soon to bring you home. Your parents are already at the dorm.”

Kyungsoo doesn’t want to leave Jongin behind. “I want to stay here.” He catches Seungwhan’s eye, tries to convey it’s not up for discussion. Their manager opens his mouth, ready to protest, but Kyungsoo crosses his arms and leans back against the hard plastic shell of the chair he’s sitting in. “I’m not leaving and you can’t make me.”

Kyungsoo’s stubbornness is legendary, and Seungwhan is too strung out to make a scene. He insists Kyungsoo needs rest though, so he arranges a room in the hospital where the vocalist can stay overnight for observation.

Chanyeol doesn’t ask to stay. Kyungsoo knows he’s anxious to be with Baekhyun and his parents.

When Kwangsoo arrives with Kyungsoo’s parents in tow, Chanyeol makes Kyungsoo swear to call him immediately if there is more news about Jongin.

Kyungsoo is sitting at the end of Jongin’s bed, his knees pulled up against his chest as he watches the younger man grab the handle above his bed in a silent struggle to sit up straighter.

Kyungsoo leans forward, moving to get up and help his friend, but Jongin snarls at him. “Don’t you dare move, I don’t need your help.” A red flush taints Jongin’s pale face and Kyungsoo can tell it’s caused by humiliation rather than Jongin’s efforts to get up.

The younger man’s right leg shifts with the movement of his upper body, and Jongin’s face contorts into a grimace before he falls back down onto the white sheets.

It’s barely been two weeks. Two weeks since the accident, since Kyungsoo almost lost Jongin.

They hadn’t really talked about it. What do people say in these situations? “I’m glad you’re alive” didn’t begin to cover what Kyungsoo felt.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you”, “I wish it would’ve been me”; gallant words, spoken by the truly selfless, but they were all empty if’s and but’s to Kyungsoo. He’d always known he wouldn’t be able to protect Jongin from everything life would throw at the younger man. He’d learned self-sacrifice doesn’t necessarily make someone else’s life easier.

Most of the other members had cried when they first came to see him after Jongin woke up. Lay had clung to Jongin, blabbering something in fast Mandarin not even the Chinese members understood. Minseok and Chanyeol had been surprisingly level-headed and calm, clearly taking it upon themselves to be strong for Jongin. Sehun had cracked a few inappropriate jokes about the hot nurse, but Kyungsoo had seen him cry once he left Jongin’s room, his wide shoulders shaking in Tao’s strong embrace. Suho had delivered a toe-curling speech, making Jongin jest he wished he would’ve died after all because he ‘didn’t survive just to hear more of Suho’s awful speeches’. Luhan and Baekhyun had tried to outdo each other by declaring their love for Jongin with increasingly sappy confessions (until Jongin pushed the assistance button and insisted the two of them were escorted out of the room).

Kyungsoo had simply taken Jongin’s hand in his own and said “I’m here.”

“I know.”

The two of them had never needed many words to say ‘I love you’.
 

Jongdae’s spidey senses are tingling; he long ago made it his specialty to know exactly what's going on in the band. Having learned soon enough that living together with 11 grown men was a lot easier if you kept track of the interpersonal drama and the members' emotional state (not to mention the considerable amount of precious information he had accumulated by now, which he liked to use from time to time to get out of his chores or move up the shower-line, an entirely acceptable form of blackmail).