THIRTY-SIX

That afternoon, EXO was told they’d halt promotions completely. EXO-M would not be returning to China, and they would not be active until Kyungsoo fully recovered. He’d been in hospital for too long, and the group couldn’t function without him.

Minseok had fallen asleep in Luhan’s arms and was still unconscious when the whole group returned to their dorm, so Luhan lay him carefully in his bed and took refuge in the living room so as to not disturb him. Yifan had also retreated to bed when he came back a couple of hours later – after visiting Woosung’s grave – and the members had eaten dinner without either of them.

For the first time, in the whirl of Luhan’s cursed emotions, he forced his fingers down his throat after the meal, and manager to splutter out a few drops of foul-tasting liquid.

He didn’t vomit, but the amount of crying he went through after the pain of gagging made him feel drained and empty enough to suffice.

Still somewhat traumatised over what he’d done, he curled up on the sofa that night, not bothering to go to bed. The members that stayed up late began to disperse and leave as time passed, and eventually, Luhan was the only one left.

Until Kyungsoo walked in.

Pulled from his sleepy state, Luhan forced his eyes open at the sound of keys jingling and doors shutting, and sat up, groaning and yawning. He blinked away the sleep from his eyes and adjusted to the darkness – almost falling off the sofa when he saw Kyungsoo turn around.

“Kyungsoo,” he gasped, fingers curling around the material of the sofa.

Kyungsoo smiled lightly at him, gently dropping his bag at the door and walking over to Luhan. Frozen, Luhan gulped and stared at him, arms shaking from taking all of his weight; terrified that Kyungsoo had escaped from hospital.

“Hey,” Kyungsoo said.                                              

“Why are you here?” Luhan whimpered, pulling his legs up to his chest to allow Kyungsoo room to sit. He took the offer thankfully, and slid back onto the sofa, leaning back and shutting his eyes.

“I got discharged, of course.”

Luhan, still unsure, took his legs off the couch, and moved closer. “Prove it.”

Kyungsoo rolled his eyes. “Do you really think they would have let you all in today if I was still too sick?”

Luhan didn’t seem convinced, and stared at Kyungsoo’s profile, half in disbelief, and half in misery. Kyungsoo turned to face him, and they met eyes.

“What?”

“I tried to throw up today.”

Kyungsoo tried and failed to hide his shock, and took Luhan’s hands in his own.

“What?”

Luhan looked away, embarrassed. “I tried.”

“Did it work?”

Luhan kicked his feet back and forth, nibbling on his lips. He was ashamed that he didn’t vomit, and somehow didn’t want Kyungsoo to know, in case he would mock him.

“No. It didn’t.”

Kyungsoo looked at him up and down, and took his face in his palms, turning Luhan’s head to face him.

“Why would you do that?” Kyungsoo asked softly. Luhan yanked his arms away, disliking the touch.

“I was upset.”

“Did you eat dinner?”

“Of course I did.”

Kyungsoo dragged his fingers up and down Luhan’s chest, making him shiver.

“You’re so beautiful,” Kyungsoo whispered. Luhan slapped him away.

“Leave me alone.”

“Why?”

Frustrated, Luhan got to his feet.

“If you’re going to get all touchy and lovey after telling Minseok and I you were better off dead, then I’m done with your bull. Go and touch Jongin.”

Taken aback by Luhan’s attitude, Kyungsoo gave him an incredulous look of disgust, and clambered to his feet, huffing.

“Fine. Whatever. Nice to know you give a that I might be alive tomorrow morning.”

He stormed out, and Luhan kicked over everything in sight, nails digging into his palms, teeth clenching to supress his screams.

Jongin was confused when he awoke the next morning, warmth against his chest, legs tangled in his, lips latched onto his neck and dragging slow, lazy kisses across his skin. He mumbled, displeased at the familiar sensation, and tried to push the foreign body from his.

He didn’t expect to feel sharp, clothed ribs against his hands when he did.

Knowing only one person could ever be so skinny – except Sehun, but Sehun would never kiss him like that – Jongin opened his eyes, and looked down.

It was Kyungsoo.

For the first time, in so long, he’d woken up with his boyfriend in his arms.

Large eyes staring up into his with innocent curiosity, Kyungsoo blinked and smiled, fingers playing with the tiny hairs behind Jongin’s ears.

“Good morning,” he said.

Jongin whimpered.

The members were hopeful.

Kyungsoo had returned, to their surprised joy, and a dance practice had been hurriedly scheduled.

“You can do it,” Jongin whispered, as they hurried into position. “You can do it, hyung.”

It had been so long since Kyungsoo had danced, and he was fearful, tired and unprepared for the vigorous exercise. He felt dizzy simply from the stress, on top of his malnourishment, and ready to collapse at any moment – and they hadn’t even started.

Halfway through the dance, his eyes clouded over and he stumbled back too far, colliding with Baekhyun, and fell to the floor with a deafening bang – not getting up again.

After six seconds of being completely motionless on the floor, the dance instructor switched off the music, and Jongin panicked, running over and collapsing to his knees beside his boyfriend.

“Kyungsoo!” he cried.                                     

Chanyeol quickly skidded over and bent down, rolling Kyungsoo onto his back and shaking his shoulders. He didn’t respond.

“,” Chanyeol swore, “he doesn’t look like he’s breathing. Quickly, everyone, get out of the way!”

Jongin wailed in horror, and was dragged away by Sehun gripping his elbows, thrashing desperately.

“Kyungsoo!” he screamed, “Kyungsoo, no!”

The other half of the band in the practice room next to theirs heard the music stopping, with Jongin’s screams on top, and quickly ran in.

“What’s happening?” Yixing gasped, when he saw Chanyeol bent over Kyungsoo, checking for a pulse. Junmyeon silenced them and ushered them and the other members away, leaving Chanyeol and Kyungsoo in the middle of the practice room. One of the instructors was standing in the corner phoning the ambulance, the other running off to find a higher member of staff, and Jongin was in hysterics.

“Please,” he gasped, clinging to Sehun’s shirt, “please, don’t let him die.”

“I can’t find a pulse,” Chanyeol yelled, voice wavering, limbs shaking. Jongin screamed, and Sehun clamped a hand over his mouth, as the dance instructor repeated the declaration into the phone. Luhan felt a gasp ripping at his throat at the words – there’s no pulse.

Thankfully, Chanyeol was trained in first aid, and passed through the entire procedure with efficient ease.

“No visible injuries!”

“Airways clear!”

“He’s not breathing!”

Luhan was clinging to Minseok and sobbing into his shoulders, shaking from head to toe. The thought of Kyungsoo dying was too much to handle – he couldn’t die, he couldn’t be dead, it just couldn’t happen.

“Jesus,” Chanyeol breathed, pressing closer to Kyungsoo and lacing his fingers together, palms against one another. “Is the ambulance coming?”

“They’re coming right now,” the instructor called.

Chanyeol pushed the heels of his hands into Kyungsoo’s chest and began the compressions, and Jongin choked, suffocating on his own tears.

“Kyungsoo,” he pleaded, “please, please, please don’t die…”

The instructor ran forward, pressing a button on his phone and holding it up.

“He’s going to help you through CPR.”

The phone crackled. Chanyeol growled.

“Okay, sir, please clasp your hands together and centre the—”

“I know what to ing do!” Chanyeol screamed, pumping harder and faster at Kyungsoo’s chest, body moving up and down rapidly with every push. He quickly pulled away, and tilted Kyungsoo’s chin back, blowing heavy breaths into his mouth, fingers shaking as he squeezed his nose.

All of the members – even Sehun – were now in tears, and Jongin was close to fainting from sobbing so hard.

After four rounds of compressions and breaths, Chanyeol was gasping for air, and weakening dramatically.

“Does—Does anyone else know how to do this?” he exclaimed, breaths ragged as he continued pushing into Kyungsoo. Luhan stumbled to his feet, weak and teary, and lifted his hand up.

“I’ll—I’ll do it.”

He fell to his knees beside Kyungsoo, facing Chanyeol, and uncertainly placed his hands in the middle of his chest.

“You do the compressions, I’ll do the breaths. I can’t—I can’t push any more.”

Luhan nodded and began, wincing with every press, terrified of breaking through Kyungsoo’s delicate bones. He managed to get through thirty, and Chanyeol bent down again to let their lips meet.

Somehow, Luhan thought, after five rounds of CPR, there wasn’t much hope for Kyungsoo.

The other instructor finally burst in the room with a few other men following, one of them clutching a defibrillator.

“The doctors,” he gasped, out of breath, “the doctors aren’t here. We have to take this in our own hands.”

Chanyeol cried out in exasperation, and tears filled Luhan’s eyes, forcing him to push harder into Kyungsoo’s chest and grunt in his exhausting efforts.

“Come on,” he hissed, “come on, Kyungsoo, ing come on! Kyungsoo!”

He was well over thirty compressions but still pushed through, yelling out in anger.

“No!” he screamed, “Kyungsoo, please, God, don’t die, please!”

I didn’t even get to say sorry.

As if Luhan was the one dying himself, all of his memories with Kyungsoo flashed before his eyes, making him sob and push harder.

The first time they’d ever met eyes in the building.

The first time Luhan sang in front of Kyungsoo, shyly, and he’d smiled – genuinely.

The first time Kyungsoo refused a meal, the first time Luhan felt ribs in their embrace, the first time he witnessed Kyungsoo purge.

I didn’t even say goodbye.

 The first time Luhan was shown the name of his disorder and Kyungsoo was there, Kyungsoo was always, always there—

“Stop!” Chanyeol snapped, pushing Luhan back. “Stop, we need to—”

Before Chanyeol could even tear Kyungsoo’s shirt open, medics burst through the doors, and ran through the room.

“Do Kyungsoo?” they ordered, “where is Do Kyungsoo?”

“Here!” Chanyeol yelled.

Within seconds, Kyungsoo’s lifeless body was being loaded onto a stretcher, and rushed out of the room – only Chanyeol, the staff, and the dance instructors finding the strength to follow behind.

The ten members curled up in each other’s arms, however, could not even find the voices to speak, let alone run after them. All of them were silent – except Jongin, who was still gasping for breath, whimpering and spluttering prayers into Sehun’s neck.

When he collapsed into silence and drifted unconscious, the whole room closed in on every member, as the harsh reality came down upon them – Kyungsoo was, or could be, very well, dead.

✏ [ a/n ] FAST-ISH UPDATE GUYS IT'S A MIRACLE!!!!!! FEELING KINDA DOWN IN THE DUMPS RIGHT NOW SO WHY NOT UPDATE AND BRING TOGETHER MY BEAUTIFUL SUBSCRIBERS THAT I LOVE SO MUCH TO CHEER ME UP <3 HAVE HOPE MY PUMPKINS. IT'S NOT OVER. yet. P[FFT LMAO U HAVE NOTHING TO HOPE FOR-- no i'm kidding omg //holds up shield and prepares for waterfalls of raging comments// god i feel so terrible all the comments lately are PLEASE LET KYUNGSOO RECOVER!!!! I HAVE SO MUCH HOPE THEY'LL GET BETTER!!!!! and here i am going YAY! KYUNGSOO'S OUT OF HOSPITAL AND NOW HE'S IN HOSPITAL NOT BREATHING. GREAT. i'm so sorry guys omg ilysm STICK BY ME ONLY A FEW CHAPTERS LEFT i;M SOBbinG god i'm sorry like genuinely sorry for putting you through this mental torture LMAO but as always, thank you for your gorgeous and lovely and hilarious and supportive comments, thank you for clicking that little 'upvote' button and thank you to all my new and old subscribers!!! thank you for supporting this story -- because really, no matter how much it disgusts me, it's my hard work and i really am proud of it. thank you so much for all your support guys. I DON'T WANT THIS TO END JESUS okay i'll shut up BYE GUYS i love you so much

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