Donghae POV

"Excuse me," I addressed the doctor quietly, hoping my voice wouldn't carry over to the group that remained huddled over Kyuhyun's bed.  "I was wondering if you could do me a favor."

"Of course," she said, glancing at me skeptically.  "What do you need?"

I hesitated before asking her what I had been contemplating ever since Eunhyuk left me broken in that hallway.  I gritted my teeth in determination.  If there was any possible way of redeeming myself, I would seize the opportunity.

"I need you to tell me something.  What exactly is it that cause Kyuhyun's voice to...well, caused his inability to sing?"

She straightened up and looked me full in the face before answering, "When his ribs broke, several of the broken pieces punctured his lung.  The surgery we performed, as you know, had the intention of fixing his lung so that he could continue to be able to breathe.  However, during the surgery, it became clear to us that in order to reach where we needed to heal his lung, his voice box and vocal chords had to be removed.  They were severely damaged once the doctors managed to remove them.  We replaced his voice box with a spare that got donated, but his vocal chords are still missing."

A spark of hope ignited within me.  This was what I wanted to hear.  This had been what I was hoping for.

"Would he be able to sing if his vocal chords were replaced by someone's as of now?"

"Of course," she said airily, "but as I said before, we have no spare vocal chords available to transplant at the moment.  If he were to regain his ability to sing, the transplant would have to take place in the next," she glanced at her watch, "thirty-six hours."

"Take mine," I said without hesitation.  "Give him mine.  Please help him be able to sing again."

The doctor seemed taken aback by my request.  Her eyes narrowed as she looked at me curiously.

"This isn't a matter that can be taken lightly.  There are several risks...for you.  you may want to rethink your decision."

"I've already thought about it," I retorted, causing an even more shocked expression to cross her face.  "This is something I've already promised myself I would do.  Please, I would really appreciate it if you could do this for me without questioning my intentions.  Please."  I ended my request with an air of finality, almost giving her no choice but to agree.

She continued to look at me through her thickly-framed glasses.  I met her gaze with an equal expression of unwavering determination.  I had to do this. For me.  For Kyuhyun.  For Super Junior.

"Very well," she finally agreed.  "However, you may want to gain a complete understanding of the risks."  I nodded, ready for whatever information that might cause my resolve to waver.  "Your own lungs can be punctured during the transplant process, resulting in the immediate risk of death."

The silence that followed her words was deafening.  I hadn't thought much of the risks, but soon decided that they didn't matter.  This was the only way to redeem myself.  I was giving back everything I had taken away.

"I understand the risks," I said.  She frowned at me.  It was obvious that she was trying and failing to figure out my motives.

"Shouldn't you consult with them?" she asked, gesturing towards the cluster of men that still crowded around Kyuhyun's bed.  Their buzz of voices filled the air, almost identical to the static that emitted from the television, which sat in the corner of the room.

"No, they'd just try to get me to change my mind," I replied, letting a small smile creep its way onto my face.  "This is my own decision."

"Okay.  Should we start right away?"

"Yes, please."

"Follow me, then." 

She led me out of the room and into the hallway.  The sun was beginning to rise, filling the building with a faint tinge of orange, which illuminated the windows and walls. I basked in the warmth of the earth's shining bulb of light, letting the feeling of being alive completely take over all feeling.  If, for some reason, the surgery found me dead, I wanted to enjoy the last moments of my life.

"If you want the surgery done as soon as possible, I can perform it myself.  Or would you like to wait until later?"

"The sooner the better, thank you."

She led me into a white room, the walls stocked with huge metal pieces of equipment, rows of lights and wires hanging from the ceiling.  A single operating table lay in the middle of the room, surrounded by more pieces of medical equipment.  I kept my gaze steady as the doctor closed the door behind us and led me to the operating table.

"I need you to remove your shirt," she said as she went to the cabinet and pulled out various instruments I couldn't identify.

I pulled off my sweater and dropped it to the floor at the foot of the table.  I felt my muscles tense as I contemplated the outcome of this.  It was possible it would go horribly wrong, but at the same time, there was that chance that Kyuhyun would be able to sing again.

As I ripped my shirt off, I climbed onto the table and pressed my back flat against its cold, metal surface.  I closed my eyes as I lay there, hoping to recount as many wonderful memories as I could before I was put to sleep.  All of those memories were those I had gained after I had joined Super Junior, reinforcing how important being in that group had been for me.

"Good luck," the doctor whispered as she drove a syringe violently into my leg.

As my senses began to fade, I searched my mind for that one memory I wanted to leave this world with.  Eunhyuk's voice echoed in my mind as the world faded around me.

"Donghae, I know you think I should hate you.  I know you blame yourself for everything.  But I no matter what you do, it seems like I'll always keep on loving you."

As my vision faded to black, I did myself one last favor and pretended those words had been true.