April 6^th, 2018  2:06:04 AM  Seoul National University Budang Hospital

“It’s been 8 hours, HyeIn. You need to think about your health too. I know you wanted to be there, but he’ll understand. You have to be ready for when Junhong wakes up.” I looked up at the monitor, behind Jackson’s head.

Tuan, YiEn  8:05:32

“He’s not out yet, I’m not leaving.” He sighed and looked around. The only other people that were in the waiting room where a family whose grandmother had come in for open heart surgery. Other than that, the hospital was closed for the night, so it was empty. The yells of the nurses and doctors who took Mark and Junhong out of the ambulances still echoed in my brain, just as loud as they did off the walls. Patients steps could be heard, checking to see what all the commotion was about. I hated hospitals.

“One of the doctors said he would examine you in the morning and you need to be ready to give a police report of the whole thing. You can do that when you haven’t slept. Youngjae told me that you barely slept on your… mission.” I pulled my feet up off the floor and to my chest. I was just staring at the ground or the surgery timer. I couldn’t look anyone in the eyes. The pity or anger would be too much for me to handle when I don’t know if he’s alive or dead behind those doors. Alive or dead because of me. And I think everyone secretly knew that. I was the one who pushed Mark towards death’s door.

“I’m fine. No one needs to examine me.” My throat started to feel raw after the 5^th hour and I think that’s because a little of my shock wore off. The good Youngjae tried to talk to me, but I only answered in one-word phrases. That was partly because my throat hurt like a , but the other was because I wasn’t in the state to talk when I could see a nurse run for more blood, her scrubs looking like the last bag she brought never got into Mark.

“You have cuts all over you and you’re still in shock. We don’t know if you’ve hurt yourself even more because your body’s still deflecting it. You could have a broken bone or internal injuries.”

“I don’t.” Besides the horrible horse sound, I had no feeling in what I was saying. No expression. It was like I was having an out of body experience, witnessing myself slowly wither away into this green, plastic chair. My voice was going, my emotions were going. I was afraid of what would go next. Good Youngjae came because he was afraid I was going to disassociate again, but after 2 hours of me telling him I was fine and what my name and birthdate was, he left to go talk to someone.

The rest of them, Khun and Taec and Jinyoung, they hadn’t shown their faces once. Good Youngjae said Jinyoung was still shaken up and wanted to be alone. Khun and Taec, well, I knew why they weren’t here. I was also glad they hadn’t tried to talk to me. What Taec said was right and I don’t think I could have dealt with that at this point. Bad Youngjae was also nowhere to be seen, but BamBam said he had been barred by Jackson for the time being. He was just sitting and walking around in the hospital, waiting for visiting rights. I was also glad he wasn’t here because I had no idea what I’d do if he stood in front of me. Apologizing ran through my mind because he literally did nothing, and I told him to jump off a cliff when he was trying to help Junhong.

Damn. Emotions were a .

“We’re all worried, In-ah. , that’s my best friend in there, but I know he can pull through. I’m honestly more worried about you right now. You have blood stains on you, you’re shaking, you’re eyes are blown-“

“Thank…you, Jackson.” He rolled his eyes and presented me a cup of what probably was coffee. I took it, watching the timer turn to 8 hours and 10 minutes. My face also went sour when it wasn’t coffee. Hey, emotion’s coming back.

“This isn’t coffee.”

“No, it’s caffeine-free ginseng tea with honey, for your throat. Youngjae made it.” I set in down on the seat next to me, a frown evident on my face.

“Tell Youngjae he can take the off day and not try to doctor me every second.”

“If he doesn’t do it, who will?” I went to stare at the ceiling, tracing the cracks in it with my eyes. Something to keep me stable. Goddamn it, Youngjae told me that too. At least I could feel the burn of the hot tea. I was gaining some feeling back.

“Am I scaring you?” It was an honest question, but I still don’t look at him to ask it. He also never sat down, so I assumed he wanted me to leave with him.

“No, you’re worrying me…And if you’re talking about the blood, also no. I just don’t think it’s pleasant to be sitting in people’s blood.”

“If I say that I’ll eat and change after Mark is conscious, will you leave and not make me come wherever you’re going with you?”

“Nope,” he popped the ‘p’ at the end, “The doctors said that you can use a shower they have, and I got a change of clothes from the suitcase you had. There are also rooms to sleep.”

“Too bad I won’t be using them.”

“Hy-“ The doors opened and I turned to look and then shot up at Mark’s surgeon. He looked awful. The clean scrubs also showed me that it was so bad, he had to change to not scare or upset us. I was going to call him out on this, but I knew Jackson would yell at me.

The doctor’s eyes were the first one I met in these 8 long hours. They were tired, full of pity, but there was no sign of bad news. That took only a tiny bit of edge off.

“Officer Wang, Kim-sshi. I bring good news. The surgery went as planned. However, he will have to stay in the hospital for 6-8 weeks, so we can watch the healing process of his organs and keep scar tissue down. We got all of the shrapnel out of his body which is good. The second bullet was our biggest concern since it was buried in his spleen. We did have to remove the spleen. The internal bleeding and the stress caused him to flat line on the table, but we brought him back and did an emergency thoracotomy. This is where we have to open him up more because he went into cardiac arrest. We compress the heart and use the defibrillator until we have regular heartbeats. He has an incision under the left because of this along with the three bullet wounds. His bullet wounds weren’t the most extreme, it was just the quantity of them that put this much stress on his body. The 6 to 8 weeks in the hospital is for the emergency thoracotomy. I know this is a lot to take in, but Tuan-sshi is a miraculous case and is very strong-willed, as evident from the surgery. If he endures the recovery like the surgery, he should be out in his scheduled time and ready to go back into the field after two or three months of rest and recovery.” I barely understood what the doctor said, but all I was focusing on is that he died on the table. Because of me. Because of that stupid responsibility we were fighting over.

The doctor walked away after we thanked him and bowed, and I almost fell back down on the chair.

“He died,” It was like a gasp that took all the air out of my lungs. He died.

“No, he fought through the surgery and is alive. That’s all that matters. Now, we have to be positive for him and help him recover. You have to be since you’ll be with him all the time.”

“Youngjae said I had to work on optimism.” If it was even the place for it, Jackson let out a tiny huff in laughter before picking up my tea.

Buzz. Buzz.

I jumped at my phone and looked down, remembering I gave Junhong’s attending nurse my number in case they needed anything. I had paperwork to fill out and they had to tell me how to care for him. We also had to see how he would be waking up.

Was he already waking up?

“Hello?”

“Yes, is this Kim-sshi?”

“Speaking.” I could hear her shift the phone to her chin.

“If you can, we need you to come to the 3^rd floor to talk to the orthopedic and trauma doctors about Junhong’s treatment and recovery as well as fill out some forms before he wakes up. Are you available to do that right now?” Tuan was going to be transferred to ICU, Junhong is there right now. He’d wake up in a few hours, maybe a day. Tuan would take a few days.

“As you can see, it went right through his femur, clear entrance and exit wounds in the right thigh. We had to do a reduction and internal fixation surgery before we treated the skin wounds from the bullet. Reduction is when we put what we can back to alignment and fixation is when we have to piece it back together. We had to put a fixation plate with screws in it to secure the pieces of bone, but surprisingly Lee-sshi’s bone was only broken into 2 pieces. Here’s that X-ray. We also had to repair an artery that was ripped apart by the bullet. There as also muscle damage which always happens with this type of injury, but there is no nerve damage, meaning he will be close to having full use of that leg. He is very lucky that there was no nerve damage. He will be stiff and may have limited mobility, but we will have physiotherapy here at the hospital and back in Seoul for that. Lee-sshi may never have his full mobility or speed back, but he will make a full recovery in a few months.” I looked at the pictures while the Doctor went on about things I’d didn’t understand. All I saw was the screws and metal thing piece together Junhong’s shattered bone. I was biting my lip hard, but I still couldn’t feel the pain. I think the fact that I’m the reason my brother’s leg is shattered into pieces right now brought me back into shock.

“How long will he have till he can walk?” Jackson was asking the questions. Maybe it was because there was a point of silence and I don’t think Jackson can handle any more silence.

“Since we put in a plate, he should be on crutches very soon. The plate holds the bone together even after the cast is taken off and the traction, the sling, isn’t needed. I’d say about 3-4 weeks before he can try to start walking on crutches. It will take a full 6-7 weeks for the bone to heal. During then, the bullet wound will also heal up nicely. After he starts walking on crutches comfortably, we will start the therapy. Because of the severity of the trauma, we will choose to keep in the screws and plate, but if they are bothering, we could take them out with surgery. The timetable for therapy will go, starting 3 weeks from now, working on the muscle and walking with the fixation device for 4 more weeks. It will take 6 weeks of therapy to get Lee-sshi back to 50 % bone strength and, with someone of his physical fitness, 6 months to bet back to 95%. I predict 95% is the most he will get. Our concern is getting the muscles back tot heir original strength to support the body, then the healing of the bone.” Again, I barely knew what he was saying, but I could count up the weeks. He’d be in the hospital awhile, probably the same amount as Mark, or a bit less. 6-7 weeks and over a year and a half or therapy. Junhong wouldn’t like that. He never being liked held back.

Unless he changed.

That thought was running through my head a lot. After the doctor said that it would take less than 24 hours for him to wake up, the imminent pressure of coherency was pushing on me. What if he hates me now? I sure do. What if he blames me for everything? I sure do. What if he’s still in that weird state where he just doesn’t know anything? Fights back and hurts himself more. Would me being in the room make his recovery worse? Longer?

So many thoughts were running through my head that I was about to get a headache. Combine that with the emotions I was feeling and the anxiousness… I was about to explode.

The emotions were now coming back full force. I couldn’t deal with such strong things after years of repressing them.

“Kim-sshi?” I looked up at the doctor and she had a polite smile on her face. She looked tired though. I think we all did.

“Sorry, I was just thinking.”

“It’s alright. Do you want us to put blankets in Lee-sshi’s room or Tuan-sshi’s room? Also, if you want towels for a shower?”

“I have to sleep in one of their rooms?” I was a soft question and I knew at that moment Jackson was thinking of some plan where I had a hotel room or somewhere that wasn’t the hospital. I didn’t want to leave the hospital, but I also didn’t want to be in a room where two people I put in hospital beds were laying, unconscious, looking pale and thin and on the brink of-

My stomach constricted, and I put the X-ray’s down. I walked away quickly, looking for one of those “Family Counseling” rooms. I needed the quiet. I needed the alone time. I’m glad the surgeon had enough senses to hold Jackson back with her hand and let me walk into the room I found. No one was going to be in it at the time of night.

I left the lights off and looked around. Couches and chairs were in a U formation and there was also something religious in the corner. It was calm, the way it was supposed to be. It angered me. Why did everything around me have to be calm?

I kicked the couch. Then kicked it again. And again.

“ this. , , . Why am I useless? I did this, I caused this. All of this!” My total feeling had to be back because kicking this couch finally hurt. I could feel pain.

Now that I could, I kept kicking the couch. Harder and harder. I’m glad I overheard that these rooms were soundproof. I was yelling left and right and then kicked one of the folding chairs, sending it into the wall. I barely missed the cross.

A scream of frustration and anger and whatever else was building up in me came out alone with me grabbing my hair and squatting on the ground. I ceased my kicking, but now I was hitting my head. I wasn’t helping my own headache.

“Why do you always have to ruin things? You and only you. No one else.” I hit the ground with my fist and noticed that the carpet was hard. That didn’t bother me as I hit it again. 1, 3, 4, 5.

“Are you going to stop hurting yourself?” I jumped at the voice, but turned a tad bit, glaring at my intruder. All those thoughts of apologizing I had earlier – instantly gone.

“Leave me alone.”

“Not when you’re going to put yourself in the hospital.” I snapped back to stare at the cross, and not him.

“Leave me alone.” I had no energy to put fight into my words. That's when you knew I was tired. When I couldn't find a way to get Bad Youngjae far, far away from me.

“Do I need to repeat myself?” He was treating me like a child and I didn’t want any of it. I just wanted to be alone for one, so I could act like a child. Have my tantrum. Cry for once in my life. Why does he always have to interrupt that?

“ off.” There were just steps as a response and he squatted down to my level. I didn’t look at him, but there was a familiarity with this situation. I’m sure he was going to remind me of it in the upcoming minutes.

All the emotions I felt were put on hold once again and I was getting sick to my stomach because of it. Being around Bad Youngjae also has the effect of the stomach flu.

“Remember when your father died, and you ran away after to guard stopped holding you.” There is ing was.

“I don’t want to remember that right now.” I was trying to be mean. Be ugly. Make him go away. I knew that wasn’t going to make him go away, but I could try.

“You were sitting in the classroom, knees to your chest, starting to cry. You did it there because you didn’t want anyone to see you as weak. Just like you’re in here.” I went to stand up bet he held onto my wrist. This time his touch was light. He was trying something that he did before. Something very, very dangerous.

“And I went to find you because I was worried. Worried of what you’d do. When I found you, I didn’t know what to do, but I just sat there, next to you, and let you cry. No judgment, just comfort.” I was breathing hard and I looked deep into his eyes at what he was trying to do. What bull he was playing right at my weakest moment. What was going to come out of his mouth next? I wanted to run, oh how I wanted to run away, but the grip on my wrist and my anticipation of what he was going to say was too strong. I didn’t see how he was using my weak state to manipulate me more. No. Right now I wanted those soft hands. Not his, but I wanted something close to it. Maybe because the real one was laying in a hospital bed.

“That’s what I’m here right now to do. Make sure you’re not going to do something bad and give you comfort. I know you. I know you don’t want to cry in front of Junhong or Tuan or any of them, but I’ve seen you at your worst. I’ve seen you cry. You hate me, so what does it matter if I see you like this. You put no value on me like that, I know it, but I value you.”

Those words did something. Not because they were from him, but because he knew those are exactly what I wanted to hear. Maybe not from him. I was being manipulated, but if this is also what comfort felt like, I wanted it.

Maybe not from him.

I sat down, pulling my knees to my chest, just like that classroom. 10 years ago. 10 years ago today, I had just realized. He put his arm around me, just like that classroom, and I pressed myself closer. Trying to feel that warmth. I didn’t feel it. Maybe I couldn’t get it from him, but I pushed on, hoping maybe I would get it.

Here I was, latching onto the person I should hate the most.

Maybe, if I closed my eyes hard enough, it would be him.