Yesung combed every inch of Ryeowook’s small apartment looking for some sort of medicine but found, much to his dismay, a whole bunch of nothing. He mentally cursed his young friend for not having any medicine until he stumbled upon a small notebook in a basket on an empty corner of the counter in the kitchen. Hesitantly, he opened it, his eyes falling on line after line of numbers – it was a list of his expenses and, according to these carefully kept records, he barely had enough to feed himself, much less keep a stockpile of meds in his apartment. Yesung glanced at the clock on the wall (one thirty-four) then back at the door to Ryeowook’s bedroom.

“You can’t stay here like this,” he murmured, immediately beginning to search around for the house keys.

~~~

When his cell phone went off around ten that morning, Yesung dove to answer it before the sound could wake up Ryeowook, who was passed out on the bed in his guest bedroom. He’d brought the young man back to his own house earlier that morning; he’d texted both Sungmin and Leeteuk to let them know about this newest development and could only assume that one of them was now calling him. He slid out of the door and into the hallway as he answered the call.

“Hello?”

“How is he? Is he any better? How high is his fever? What kinds of medicines do you have? Is he—”

“Calm down, Teukie hyung,” Yesung muttered, rubbing his forehead. “Ryeowook is doing a little better, I guess, but not by much. He’s still really sick. I want to make him a warm soup for when he wakes up but I’m not the best chef. Do you think—”

“I’ll grab Sungmin and we’ll be right over.” Leeteuk didn’t even give Yesung a chance to answer before he hung up. Yesung sighed, slowly sliding down the wall until he was seated on the floor, staring straight ahead. He knew Ryeowook was sick, but now he was partially convinced that recounting his past hadn’t helped him much. It was almost like, from the pained expressions on his face, that he kept reliving those moments in his dreams—no, in his nightmares.

Wait. “I’ve been having some terrible nightmares recently, so I haven’t been sleeping really well. I can’t seem to get them to go away.” Ryeowook’s voice rung through his mind. Terrible nightmares. Ryeowook had already been reliving that moment over and over almost every single night. Jongwoon felt like just sitting there and crying; how was he going to help his little friend?

~~~

Sungmin shivered in the cool breeze as Leeteuk knocked rather impatiently on the door. He’d been drug out of his bed by the sound of pounding on his own door and yells from his hyung that he needed to get his out of bed and nurse Ryeowook back to health with his magical warm soup. Not long after that, he found himself strapped into the passenger’s seat of Eeteuk’s car, going practically the speed of light to get to Jongwoon’s house. Obviously, Leeteuk was very upset about the state one of his favorite dongsaengs was in.

Yesung wrenched open the door a few moments later, mumbling something about being quiet or they’d wake up Ryeowook. Leeteuk just demanded to know where the boy in question was; Jongwoon pointed at the stairs.

“First room on your left.”

The Pumpkin Prince watched as Leeteuk shot up the stairs and disappeared from view before turning his attention to the man standing next to him. Yesung looked worn out and insanely worried; he collapsed on the couch and buried his face in his hands a second later. Sungmin sat down next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

“What’s wrong, hyung? Ryeowook will be okay; don’t worry.”

Jongwoon shook his head slightly. “He’s not just physically sick, Minnie. And I made it worse. I asked him. I made him tell me what happened to him when he was in University. I made him relive those memories that have been haunting him. He’s so scared and it’s my fault.”

Sungmin sighed softly. “Hyung, it’s not your fault. Ryeowook actually telling you is amazing. He hasn’t told anyone anything about what happened to him. Not me, not Teukie hyung, not Kibum. No one knows. If he actually told you, that means he trusts you and feels comfortable around you, hyung. It means that he’s finally opening up and taking a step toward recovery, I guess. It’s a good thing.”

“But you haven’t seen the looks on his face,” Jongwoon whispered, those images running through his mind as a tear slipped onto his cheek. “It’s terrible, Sungmin. It’s one of the most heartbreaking things I’ve ever seen.”

“But isn’t the first step to getting better accepting what happened? This needed to happen so that he can move forward.”

“He was perfectly fine before—”

“No, he wasn’t, and you know that.”

Yesung didn’t respond; he just sat on the couch, holding his head in his hands, wishing more than anything that his little bear hadn’t had to deal with all of that stupidity and ruthlessness two years ago.

~~~

Sungmin was gently dabbing his forehead with a cold, damp cloth when Ryeowook blinked open his eyes later that afternoon. He turned his head slowly, looking around the room before up at his hyung.

“Where’s Jongwoon hyung?” His voice was slightly stronger than it had been, but he still sounded weak.

“I finally made Yesung hyung go sleep for a little bit. He stayed up with you all night and all morning. He looked pretty much dead on his feet so I told him that I’d take care of you for a while so he could rest. He protested, saying he couldn’t leave you, but I threated to drop kick him if he didn’t so he decided it would be in his best interests to take a nap,” Sungmin explained, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Leeteuk was down in the kitchen, eating a bowl of the soup that Sungmin had made while the younger man took his turn looking after Ryeowook. “You’re really sick, little one. How did this happen?”

“I…” Ryeowook turned light pink. “I spent some time lying in the snow and then decided to walk almost all the way back to my apartment in my wet clothes.”

Sungmin raised an eyebrow. “That was not one of your brightest ideas, Wook.”

“I know, hyung, I just…it was nice, okay?” He was embarrassed of his actions and didn’t really want to talk about it anymore so he attempted to change the subject. “Doesn’t Jongwoon hyung have work?”

“He called in and said he couldn’t make it to his appointments. He skipped out on an important meeting yesterday to take care of you and completely cancelled all of his classes for today and tomorrow morning. He’s really worried about you, Wookie.”

Ryeowook nearly died when he heard that Yesung had blown off his job. “Hyung! Jongwoon hyung has to go to work! He can’t get in trouble because of me! I’m perfectly fine; he doesn’t need to worry; he—”

“Ryeowook, telling Yesung hyung not to worry about you is like telling Kyuhyun to stop playing games, Kibum to stop acting, or Siwon to stop going to church: it’s never going to happen. Do you think you can get up? I made some soup for you down in the kitchen but I can bring it up to you if you’d rather stay in bed.”

The shorter man shook his head. “I want to go downstairs,” he mumbled, grabbing Sungmin’s hand. “But you might need to help me.”

Sungmin smiled, slinging Ryeowook’s arm over his shoulders and helping his friend up, out into the hall, and down the stairs.

Leeteuk looked up when he heard footsteps; he was immediately at Ryeowook’s other side, helping the weak, frail boy sit down at the table as Sungmin fetched him some soup.

“Are you feeling any better, Wook?”

“A little, hyung.” He spooned a little of his soup into his mouth, only slightly unnerved by the intense stares coming from his two hyungs. “What is it?”

“Not that we’re trying to pry, and don’t feel obligated to tell us, but…” Sungmin began.

“Will you tell us what happened? We asked Yesung but he said that you would tell us when you were ready. We really want to help you, Wookie, but we can’t if we don’t know how.” Leeteuk completed the statement quickly, but his voice was full of sincerity and a deep desire to help his friend.

Ryeowook suddenly lost his appetite and pushed his bowl away, much to Sungmin’s dismay (the older man was quite convinced that the only way to get better was to eat and he was upset that the special meal he’d made wasn’t being consumed now). They sat in silence until finally Ryeowook’s timid voice filled up the space. “You know about the composition project, right?”

The two nodded, afraid to speak lest they break the eternal maknae’s confidence.

“Well…” He just started to talk, staring at the table the whole time. He was shaking again but not as much this time; it was like the knowledge that he wasn’t alone now was enough to somewhat comfort him and give him the strength to keep going. Sungmin, however, was in a much worse state; he was literally in tears, crying quietly as the story progressed. On Leeteuk’s face was a mixture of the upmost sorrow and the desire to go hunt down those boys and murder them.

When he was done, he just sat there, keeping his eyes on his unfinished bowl of soup. A pair of arms wrapped around his neck from behind and he nearly jumped out of his skin until he noticed that it was Jongwoon.

“Hyung…”

“You’re a brave, talented, wonderful young man, Ryeowook. Those boys are selfish, ignorant, shallow, pathetic human beings and you shouldn’t let them control you, okay?” Yesung kept his voice low, directing his words directly at Ryeowook; Sungmin and Leeteuk glanced at each other and quietly left the room. 

“But hyung—”

“You’re stronger than them.” He rested his forehead in Ryeowook’s hair, breathing in the scent. “You’re so much stronger than they are. I’m sorry that I made you talk about this when I know you didn’t want to and I’m sorry that you’re sick and I’m sorry that I told your friends that you’d told me your story.”

“It’s okay, hyung. I’m…I’m just glad you’re here. I was afraid you’d leave me alone in that house.”

“Never.” Jongwoon’s voice was breathy and so soft that it was barely there. “You’re my best friend. I would never leave you alone when you needed help.”

The pair stayed like that until Ryeowook had drifted off into a light sleep again; Yesung carefully bent down, rotating so that he could hoist the younger man onto his back before heading back up to the guest bedroom.

“I would never leave you,” he repeated, knowing the other was asleep and wouldn’t hear it. “Never.”

~~~

Ryeowook essentially slept for the rest of the day, waking up at various times only to eat something or take medicine but always finding someone by the side of his bed. That’s why, when he woke up the next morning, the complete silence was disorienting and confusing. No one was there. He stayed still for a moment, listening; he couldn’t hear any signs of movement from anywhere in the house. Well. That was odd.

He sat up, noticing the paper on the bedside table for the first time. He picked it up, reading it with curiosity.

Ryeowookie,

I’m sorry, but I had to leave you today – I’ve got to work with some trainees at SM. I really wish I could be there with you right now but I know you’ll be fine! If you need anything, just call me; I’ll answer, no matter when it is or what I’m doing.

Now, Ryeowook, I need you to do something for me. I left you a notebook on the table in the kitchen and I want you to pick it up and just let your feelings spill out onto the page. Let all the fear, the anger, the confusion, the depression out. Just scribble if you need to. But when you have, I want you to sit down (I find the patio out back a nice place but be sure you wrap up because I don’t want you to get really sick again! You can grab some clothes of mine from my closet.) and just write. I can tell that you have an immense amount of talent from looking at the pieces of your compositions from University and I don’t want you to let it go to waste. Let the music fill your body and soul. Let it flow from your fingertips. Don’t think about those stupid selfish boys. Teukie hyung, Sungmin, and all of your other friends are here to protect you. I’ll protect you, Ryeowook. I won’t let them near you, ever. You just need to write. Trust me. You’ll feel a lot better if you do.

When you’ve written something, anything, doesn’t matter how good, I want you to call me and we can meet up somewhere. I want to help you, Ryeowook. I know that composing was your biggest dream and I don’t want you to just give up on it like this. You’ve got to trust me.

Jongwoon

Ryeowook, clutching the letter in one hand, slowly made his way down the stairs, his face blank. Sungmin and Leeteuk must have gone home some time the previous evening because they were nowhere to be found. He headed into the kitchen, his eyes falling on a thick black notebook with a dark purple pen rested neatly on top. Despite himself, he smiled; purple was his favorite color and he was happy that his hyung remembered that.

He picked up the pen. Almost immediately, he started trembling and he threw the pen back down, instead moving to get a glass of orange juice from the fridge, trying to calm his racing heart. This wasn’t good. Writing wasn’t good. It wouldn’t help him.

He stared at the notebook, willing it to agree with him, to say that it would only serve to make his memories that much more real. It didn’t.

Ryeowook sighed, picking up the notebook, pen, and letter, carrying them with him as he made his way to the living room, where he curled up on the couch underneath a soft, warm blanket. He opened the notebook and then just sat there, his eyes on the first blank page, the pen in his shaking hand.

Then, he started to write.

His letters weren’t neatly formed or lined up perfectly on the page. His thoughts weren’t organized nicely (or in any sort of coherent order, actually). The ink was smudged by the occasional tear that made its way onto the page. But it was writing.

At the bottom of his third page of small, cramped rambling, Ryeowook found himself writing, “Thank you for taking care of me and listening to me and wanting to help me when I wouldn’t even help myself. I love you, Kim Jongwoon.”

This would have been out sooner, but I've had so much homework! Hope you've all been well and enjoyed the chapter~ ^^

Love,

afallingstar