Eventually, Youngwoon had decided to spend a little more time around Jungsoo rather than by his lonesome… but things seemed a bit… different. The younger was more irritable than usual, getting angry at almost everything. The anger was evenly dispersed, too, being directed both at Jungsoo and Youngwoon. The younger ended up blaming himself for things just as much as he blew up at the older. Despite this, Jungsoo wasn’t too sure if that was for the best either. He would much prefer that Youngwoon was just his old self…

          “What the hell did you put in this bulgogi? It’s saltier than hell!” Youngwoon complained one night, practically throwing down his fork… Jungsoo jolted a little, his arms close and stiffened to his body, his eyes cast down to the food on his plate… He hadn’t changed his recipe at all in the last ten years of their marriage… However, right now, with the moods Youngwoon has been in, he knew better than to reply. The last time he had, it had given him a black eye followed by a night of his husband locking himself in the room, throwing and hitting things in self-hatred.

          As Jungsoo sat there stiffly and in fright, Youngwoon stood, throwing his napkin down on the table before going upstairs with bitter stomps. Soon, the bedroom door slammed and the usual throwing and hitting and irate self-commentary began. As the wife of the house cleaned off the table, he heard the yelling about how Youngwoon “is to blame for all of these problems”, but as he washes the dishes, the viewpoint changes to how Jungsoo “is to blame for all of HIS problems”. Since the one-sided conversation didn’t go in the opposite order, Jungsoo decided that it may be best to sleep on the couch that night, lest he wanted a firm beating for his husband’s delusions.

          He cleaned the kitchen up, forcing himself not to hear Youngwoon anymore. It brought him too much pain. It made him feel like he’s done something horribly wrong even if he hadn’t. It seemed like everything made Jungsoo feel guilty anymore. Nothing was right for him or for Youngwoon. Maybe it was about time he contacted a doctor… or a psychologist.

          Sitting on the couch, he thought for a bit. Should he? He should. Slowly, Jungsoo retrieved the phone from its hook-up on the stand next to him. As he entered the phone number, he heard footsteps coming down the stairs and he quickly replaced the phone. Soon, Youngwoon appeared in the doorway to the living room.

          “What are you doing?” he asked, eyes a pinky-red from crying.

          “Nothing,” Jungsoo replied, his voice quiet. “Nothing at all.”

          Almost as if nothing was wrong or tense, the younger walked over to the couch that Jungsoo was on and laid down on the other two exposed cushions, putting his head on his wife’s chest. He closed his eyes and covered up with a blanket, eventually falling asleep. When Jungsoo was sure Youngwoon was asleep, he allowed himself to speak in quiet tones, his husband’s hair with a loving touch.

          “Woonie… Oh, God, Woonie, what’s wrong with you…?” he whispered, tears beginning to form in his eyes. He knew it was probably something along the lines of PTSD. He had done research on it while Youngwoon was gone, but, by God… this seemed so much worse than what he had read… Grabbing the phone again, he dialed the hospital again.

          “Hello? Is this Jungsoo? My assistant said it was urgent.”

          “I honestly don’t know how urgent this is, but I’m scared and worried… Dr. Choi, what do you know about PTSD?” Jungsoo asked, keeping his voice very quiet as he played gently with his husband’s locks.

          “PTSD? Why?” Siwon asked, sounding concerned, but keeping his voice quiet, following the lead of his telephone companion.

          “…I think Youngwoon may have it… He hasn’t been the same. Not at all. It’s scarier than what I read, though.”

          “Jungsoo… I’m going to give you my brother’s phone number. His name is Hangeng, he’s a psychiatrist. He’ll know more about this than I do. Okay?”

          With the confirmation, Jungsoo was given the phone number and he called the psychiatrist’s home, waiting with bated breath and twirling his wedding band around his finger until the receiver was picked up.

          “Hello?” came a tired-sounding voice.

          “Hello, my name is Kim Jungsoo, I’m calling from a directive of Dr. Choi Siwon… Is this Hangeng?”

          “It is. What’s the matter? And why so late?”

          “I need help. My husband… He recently returned from the armed forces… About a month ago… Recently, he’s been very moody and he’s been having nightmares, but he wouldn’t talk about them… First, he isolated himself, and now he’s angry at both himself and me, and I’m not sure why… I think he may have PTSD, but I’m not sure…,” Jungsoo explained hurriedly, but quietly. “I’m calling this late because this is the only time he isn’t watching me like a hawk…”

           “Understandable,” Hangeng mumbled, the sleep finally leaving his voice. “Usually I wouldn’t make appointment after hours, but this seems rather urgent for you… Do you think you can get him to come by our office sometime tomorrow morning?”

           “Y-Yeah… Maybe… I hope so. What time?” Jungsoo urged.

           “Plan for nine in the morning. Alright?”

           “Alright… Thank you. Good night.”

           “Good night to you, too, Mr. Kim. Good night.” He hung up.

           Hopefully this would be absolved soon… Jungsoo wasn’t sure if he could handle much more of this without an explanation or at least a little guidance on the situation.