16 :  t o g e t h e r

Donghae grimaced as he watched the doctor unravel the bandage wrapped around his foot. The doctor, Dr Choi, adjusted his glasses and inspected his swollen ankle, carefully shifting it to take a good look. Donghae’s ankle had swelled up thrice its original size, and bruises that previously hadn’t existed now covered a large area of his foot. As much as he had objected to Hyukjae driving him to the hospital, he acknowledged that there was something wrong, and that maybe it was more than just the case of a sprained ankle. Furthermore, knowing how much of a hypochondriac Hyukjae could be, he dared not rebel, anyway. He knew there would be no point in doing so.

“How is his ankle, Dr Choi?”

Dr Choi took a step back, reaching for some sort of clipboard on the desk behind him. He began to tick off boxes, shaking his head with pursed lips.

“Not too good,” he said firmly, “especially considering that he sprained his ankle four months ago. It should’ve healed properly by now, but I suspect the Grade l sprain has deteriorated and is now a Grade lll sprain; possibly even causing an avulsion fracture. We’ll need to do an x-ray before we can confirm anythi—”

Hyukjae panicked. “Grade l? Grade lll? Avulsion fracture? What’s that? Is he going to be okay? Please tell me he’ll be okay! Will he be wheelchair-bo—”

“Hyuk!” Donghae interjected. “Let Dr Choi talk for goodness sake!”

“Sorry.”

Dr Choi chortled briefly before clearing his throat. “It’s okay. Anyway—” he looks at the clipboard “—Donghae-ssi, may I know how you’ve been taking care of your ankle for the past few months? Have you been avoiding strenuous activities? Resting?”

Like a feverish child at a clinic accompanied by his mum, Donghae looked at Hyukjae, waiting for him to help answer Dr Choi’s questions.

“He’s been resting,” Hyukjae answered on Donghae’s behalf. “Although most times he’s stubborn and insists on doing things himself, y’know? Showering himself, walking around without his crutches, lifting heavy boxes even though I specifically warn him not to. Stuff like that. Refuses to even ice his ankle or let anyone do it for him.”

Donghae shot Hyukjae a look. The apples of his cheeks reddened from embarrassment.

“Ah, perhaps that’s why the recovery process is taking longer than expected.” Dr Choi said as he grabbed a folded wheelchair from behind a curtain. “Hyukjae-ssi, could you help me carry Donghae-ssi onto the wheelchair please? We want his foot to be as well-rested as possible.”

“But I can walk—”

“Listen. To. The doctor.” Hyukjae warned as he scooped his fiancé off the examination table, setting him down on the wheelchair as gently as possible. A nurse entered the room moments later, guiding them to a special room where x-rays were done.

Hours later, Hyukjae and Donghae left Seogwipo Medical Centre feeling relieved. The x-ray results confirmed that Donghae’s ankle had indeed worsened into a Grade lll sprain, but there was no fracture—which meant there would be no need for any surgery of sorts—a verdict Donghae was more than happy to hear. He couldn’t imagine staying in a hospital for more than two hours; he figured he’d stayed in a hospital long enough when he lost his memory. All he had to deal with was having his sprained ankle wrapped in an orthopedic cast for as long as it took for his foot to recover, and an overly worried Hyukjae.

They arrived only metres away from Donghae’s house after making a pit stop at the local provision store for groceries when the car battery died, leaving them stranded in the middle of the road.

“,” Hyukjae cursed, getting out of the car. “You always do this.”

Donghae, fully aware that Hyukjae was talking to (or rather, cursing at) his beloved vehicle; his first love second only to Donghae; reached for his crutches in the backseat and got off the car, limping towards the boot. He retrieved a reflective, triangular sign and placed it on the ground, roughly a metre away from the car’s rear to warn oncoming traffic that the car had broken down.

“Hae, could you help me fetch some stuff from your garage?” Hyukjae shouted.

Hobbling to the front of the car, Donghae nodded. “Sure. What do you need?”

“Jumper cables, maybe gloves.” Hyukjae instructed, staring at the inside of the hood. “I’m gonna flag whatever vehicle passes by and try to jumpstart the car.”

Donghae nodded again, even though he had no idea what Hyukjae was talking about. Instead, he took off towards his garage, hobbling in double time. As soon as he reached his garage, he searched around for a large, black toolbox. He’d seen Hyukjae keep items in said toolbox before, so he figured that must have been where the cables and gloves were. There it was, on the table at the far end of the room. With his crutches wedged beneath his armpits, he carefully undid the clasp of the toolbox and took out the items Hyukjae had asked for.

“Wait,” he said aloud, turning back to the toolbox just as he was about to return to Hyukjae’s side. He grabbed an additional item—a torchlight—figuring it’d be useful under the night’s sky and poorly lit roads of Jejudo.

Hyukjae had doubled over, running his hands along the inner compartments of the car’s hood, deep in thought. Not a single car had passed by in the last fifteen minutes that Donghae had been gone. Hyukjae had begun to contemplate asking a neighbour to help them out, when he heard the familiar sounds of hard rubber stabbing into the ground.

“I got the items, Hyuk!” Donghae shouted triumphantly, swinging a bag of said items.

He returned to Hyukjae’s side, passing the bag to him.

“I even brought a torchlight,” Donghae announced proudly. “You’ll need it!”

Hyukjae looked up at his fiancé, smiling over his child-likeness. “Thank you, Hae.” He attached one end of  the cables to the car’s dead battery and left the other end dangling, moving back towards the driver’s side of the car. Like a lost puppy, Donghae followed, standing behind Hyukjae and watching him as he leaned into the driver’s seat to make sure the ignition was still on. He revved the car several times to no avail.

“Argh!” Hyukjae growled, kicking the front tire in frustration.

Donghae jumped back, shocked by Hyukjae’s sudden outburst. It wasn’t until then that both of them noticed an oncoming car, miles away.

“Look!” Donghae exclaimed, pointing towards the car. “Maybe he’ll help us!”

They turned around, blinded by the high beam headlights of the car. Donghae set his crutches against the car and waved his arms, hoping to get the driver’s attention.

“Help!” He shouted, waving his arms frantically. “We need your help!”

The car didn’t slow down. In fact, they noticed how the car had been swerving left and right unsteadily and at the speed of light. Faster, faster, as fast as a car could go. What the ?

         “MOVE!”

Donghae couldn’t remember much. He remembered Hyukjae yelling at him to move. He remembered the feeling of getting shoved and landing on the grass patch, his right shoulder suffering the of the impact. He remembered Hyukjae screaming, followed by the deafening screech of tires and a loud bang. And then he was out cold.

The smell of latex gloves, clinical antiseptics and fresh sheets hit Donghae hours later as he woke up, shifting uncomfortably. His vision was blurred, but his hearing—and all other senses—were fine. He could hear the loud repetitive beeps of heart monitors, the sounds of patients being wheeled to and fro and trolleys being whisked about, and people talking over him. He tried to sit up, groaning.

“Hae!” A familiar voice called out. Donghae realised that it was Kyuhyun’s.

Donghae felt around for Kyuhyun. “Kyu? What’s happening, Kyu? Why can’t I see clearly?!”

“I’m here,” Kyuhyun said softly, grabbing Donghae’s arm. “I’m right beside you. Your eyes are a little swollen because of the lacerations on your face and lids.”

Donghae calmed down slightly. “What happened?”

“You had an accident.”

“Accident?” Donghae repeated. “What accident?”

Kyuhyun rubbed his face, unsure of how to break the news. “Some drunk driver drove right into you and—”

“Wait.” Donghae stiffened. “Where is Hyukjae?”

“Hae…”

“WHERE IS HYUKJAE?!”

Kyuhyun tried to push Donghae back against the raised bed, but Donghae fought back, writhing violently.

“TELL ME WHERE HYUKJAE IS!” Donghae shouted in exasperation. “TELL ME NOW!”

“If you don’t lie back down, I’m not telling you where he is.” Kyuhyun warned. “Lie down.”

Donghae could hear Kyuhyun’s parents mumbling in the background. He gave in, leaning into the backrest of the raised bed. His eyes began to sting and before he knew it, he was crying.

“Please, Kyu,” Donghae begged, ignoring the sharp pangs in his right leg and shoulder. “I need to know where Hyuk is.”

Kyuhyun paced back and forth in front of the bed, biting his nails. He didn’t know how to break the news to his best friend. He wasn’t sure Donghae would be able to handle it. He contemplated waiting until after Donghae had gotten a full night’s rest, considering that it was nearly two in the morning, but he didn’t have the heart to keep things from him for that long, either. Donghae felt the foot of the bed dip.

“He’s in the ICU ward,” Kyuhyun said, his voice barely a decibel louder than the beeping of the heart monitor attached to Donghae’s wrist. Donghae’s heart rate began to pick up.

“Is he.. Is he conscious?” Donghae asked even though he knew the answer.

Kyuhyun stood up and walked towards the side of the bed, wrapping his hands around Donghae’s.

“No,” he answered softly. “He’s in a coma.”

“What did the doctor say?”

Donghae could hear Kyuhyun gulping.

“Trauma to the head…” Kyuhyun trailed off. “He might not make it. Or if he does, he might suffer from…”

Donghae crushed Kyuhyun’s hands in his. “Suffer from what?!”

“Amnesia,” Kyuhyun finished.

“WHAT?!” Donghae had begun to shake again, attempting to rip out the wires attached to his arm. “TAKE ME TO HIM!”

“You’re not well, Hae!” Kyuhyun shouted, grabbing both his wrists.

Struggling, Donghae continued to fight back, soft sobs gradually turning into loud wailing. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He couldn’t believe he was alive and that Hyukjae, the love of his life, the one fate had ripped from him years ago only to return to him years later, was lying in a hospital bed in the ICU ward, fighting for his life. He couldn’t believe that the man had a 50/50 chance at survival, and that even if he did survive, he might forget Donghae like how Donghae had forgotten him all those years. It was so unfair. How unlucky could they be? How unfair it was that Hyukjae, who had taken all this time helping Donghae get his life back on track and loved him to the point that his sorrows were gradually perishing, risked losing his own life? It drove Donghae mad.

“Eomma! Appa!” Donghae cried out, beckoning for Kyuhyun’s parents to come forward. “Please tell Kyu to let me see Hyukjae! Please!”

He could hear heels click against the cold hospital floor before a gentle hand caressed his face, and an equally gentle voice hushed him.

“Hae,” Kyuhyun’s mother cooed. “Hyukjae is strong, and he’s fighting for his life. I know that if he could speak now, he would tell you to rest and come visit him in the morning. He will still be here, Hae. I promise. He will still be here. Don’t make him worry by doing this to yourself, sweetheart.” She planted a kiss atop Donghae’s head, the way a mother would to their own son.

“But Eomma…”

“No buts,” Kyuhyun’s mother said gently. “I will make sure Kyu brings you to see him in the morning. For now, you must rest.”

Kyuhyun stepped forward. “Eomma is right.” He slid his hand into Donghae’s, letting Donghae grip his hand tightly. “I’m staying with you tonight. I promise I’ll wake you up if there are any updates, and I’ll take you to him in the morning, okay? Just.. please just rest for tonight.”

Donghae could feel his entire body go limp. He lied down, unable to stop his tears from flowing, and resigned to fate. He tried his hardest to ignore all the thoughts of the worst possible outcomes that sprouted in his mind like diseases to the heart, gripping Kyuhyun’s hand tightly, but to no avail. He thought of Hyukjae; he thought of how his eyes crinkled when he smiled, and how the pink of his gums revealed itself when he was happier than usual. He thought of the way Hyukjae sounded calling his name—fondly and gently with a hint of possessiveness, to make sure both Donghae and the world around them knew he was his and his only, or how he’d get paranoid each time Donghae showed even the slightest sign of discomfort. He thought of the way Hyukjae held him when his head hurt from traumatic flashbacks, and how Hyukjae would try his best to make Donghae smile after he’d cried. He thought of the way Hyukjae loved him. He thought of the way he loved Hyukjae. It hurt.

It took more than an hour for fatigue to finally kick in.

Morning arrived. Donghae could open his eyes a little wider now that the swelling had gone down slightly. He raised his head, staring at the head of hair resting on his belly and was relieved to see that Kyuhyun had stayed with him through the night like he’d said. Donghae knew he couldn’t do any of this alone. Just then, a nurse entered the room, pushing a trolley in front of her.

“Good morning, Mr Lee.” She greeted, dragging an overbed table over. “Time for breakfast.”

Donghae pushed himself up onto his elbows, waking Kyuhyun up. He snorted, stretching his arms before blinking at Donghae.

“You’re awake,” Kyuhyun mumbled, stating the obvious while rubbing his eyes.

“And you’re supposed to bring me to Hyukjae,” Donghae reminded, stealing a glance at the bowl of porridge the nurse had placed onto his overbed table. He knew she was listening in, judging by the look on her face.

Kyuhyun took off the lid of the tupperware, smiling.

“Not until after you eat.” He said firmly, handing Donghae a plastic spoon.

Donghae sighed. “No appetite.”

“Then you definitely have to eat.” Kyuhyun scooped a spoonful of porridge and lifted it to Donghae’s lips, mouthing an aaaah. “I’m serious. I’m not taking you to him until after you eat.”

Chewing and swallowing as quickly as he could manage despite how hot the porridge was, Donghae frowned. Just as Kyuhyun was about to feed him another spoonful, he grabbed Kyuhyun by the wrist, spilling some porridge onto his blanket.

“Can’t you at least tell me if you got any updates throughout the night?” Donghae asked.

Pulling tissues out of a box on the overbed table, Kyuhyun quietly wiped up the spilt porridge, shrugging.

“There were no updates,” he answered, pausing briefly, “but when I went to his ward to check on him, I saw Sora-noona.”

Donghae looked over his best friend’s shoulder to make sure no one was in the room other than him, Kyuhyun and the nurse, who’d been rearranging the items on her trolley. She left the room seconds later, leaving behind only the echoes of her trolley’s squeaky wheels. Kyuhyun’s parents, on the other hand, had left soon after Donghae had fallen asleep the previous night.

“S-sora?” Donghae repeated, almost whispering. “Hyukjae’s sister?”

Kyuhyun nodded, setting the spoon down. “Mm. The only Sora I know.”

“Kyu,” Donghae uttered lowly, checking once again that there was no one in the room other than the two of them. “I don’t think it was an accident.”

Kyuhyun leaned forward. “What do you mean?”

“I think,” Donghae began, “Sora sent someone to kill me.”

Standing up to close the ward’s door, Kyuhyun paced up and down the space in front of Donghae’s bed. He rubbed his chin, struggling to piece things together. Donghae made sense, that he knew, but they had to be sure. It wouldn’t be helpful to anyone to throw speculations about without evidence, anyway.

“Are you sure?” Kyuhyun asked, trying his best to remain level-headed.

Donghae nodded quickly, almost knocking the empty coffee cup off the overbed table.

“I’m positive,” he reassured. “I’ve lived in Jejudo for nearly four years and not once have I seen a lime green car drive by. One without a license plate, at that. The only time I saw a lime green car, was when I first visited Sora at her penthouse, and I’m certain it didn’t have a license plate, either. It was parked behind our car. Anyway, it’s not like she’s never warned me that she’d get rid of me, whatever that meant.”

Kyuhyun paused in his tracks. “Hm. I’m not doubting you, Hae, but I need to make sure all of this makes sense. An officer will be coming at around noon to take your statement, but before he does, I’m going to ask him if he knows any details about the driver and the car he drove, just to be sure. In the meantime, you—”

The door burst open, and in walked the devil herself. Sora put her bag on a chair and halted next to Donghae’s bed.

“Leave.” She said, her voice low and crass. “I need to talk to him in private.”

Kyuhyun walked over to the bedside table and placed his phone against his bag. He retrieved his wallet from the bag’s side pocket and slipped it into his jacket, whistling.

“Hae, I’m gonna go grab something to eat.” He announced, walking towards the door. “I’ll be back around eleven. And Sora-noona, nice meeting you too.”

Donghae’s best friend left, leaving him to suffocate in Sora’s presence. He had never been the type to enjoy confrontation, and yet he found himself preparing sharp knives in the form of comebacks to counter whatever bull he knew would be coming his way. There was a brief silence, one filled with anger and awkwardness, before Donghae felt a thin hand slap across his face. He gritted his teeth, glaring back at the woman in front of him.

“I warned you,” she began, “I WARNED you to stay away from him!”

She sat on the bed and moved dangerously close to Donghae’s sprained ankle, reaching for his face. Grabbing him by the jaw, she leaned forward, putting pressure on the side of his injured leg. Only then did Donghae realise his right leg was in bad shape, and that it suffered more than just a sprained ankle at this point. Endure it, he urged himself, clenching his jaw. Don’t let her see how weak you feel.

“Nice, isn’t it, seeing your brother knocked out cold in a hospital because of something you did.” Donghae said calmly. That was the first knife.

Sora’s fingers dug into the flesh of his cheeks. Her face, Donghae thought. It reeks of evil.

“You son of a !” She hissed. “I warned you to stay the away from my brother, and yet you stayed with him. He’s in a coma because of you, not me!”

Donghae managed a smirk. “Oh really?” Underneath his blanket, his hands were shaking, and he wanted nothing more than to claw the in the face. “Then tell me how come I’ve seen the car that hit him in your house. Tell me how it is that I just happened to be in front of that same car, and that both your car and the one that could’ve killed us had missing license plates.” Second knife.

Releasing Donghae’s jaw, Sora moved back, blinking her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh but you do,” Donghae taunted. “You do know what I’m talking about. Ever since you first warned me that you’d personally get rid of me if I didn’t leave Hyukjae, I’ve been waiting. I knew you’d do something to me; it was just a matter of when. And now that ’s gone down, you’re blaming me for it?” Donghae scoffed. “I’m not as stupid as you are, Lee Sora.”

The third knife had obviously struck a raw nerve, because Sora had gotten off the bed and lunged forward, grabbing Donghae by the hair.

“AND SO WHAT?” She snapped, yanking Donghae forward. “SO WHAT? I WAS SUPPOSED TO KILL YOU, NOT HYUKJAE. I SHOULD’VE ING DONE IT MYSELF INSTEAD OF HIRING A USELESS HITMAN.” Her face was barely inches away from Donghae’s, and Donghae could feel her breath against his cheek.

Out of nowhere, Sora laughed. “I’m not as stupid as you think. I made sure he drank a bit before setting off to kill you, so that when the police found your dead body and his, they’d dismiss it as a drunk driving accident. And even if you lived, no one would believe you if you tried to prove otherwise.” She yanked Donghae by the hair again, whispering. “You’re just a poor, lonely amnesiac. No family, no friends. Pathetic. Useless.”

Donghae spat in her face. “ right off.”

“Only when you’re dead,” Sora quipped. “If anything happens to Hyukjae—if he dies, you’re next.”

She got up and shot Donghae one last murderous look before grabbing her bag and exiting the room. As soon as the door closed behind her, Donghae broke down. He balled the blanket in his fists and raised them to his face, crying and screaming into the fabric. At that very moment, he wanted to die. He wanted to be free from all the pain—but for the most part, he just really, really wanted to die. A small part of him couldn’t help but to think that he really was bad luck, that Hyukjae was in this plight because of him. If he’d never found me, he thought, if I’d never let him back into my life or left when I was told to, he’d be okay.

Kyuhyun returned seven minutes to eleven, bursting through the door to give his best friend a tight hug. Donghae’s eyes had puffed up again, tears and snot dribbling down his face. He pushed Kyuhyun away slightly and cried, grabbing Kyuhyun by the collar.

“Kyu,” he whined. “She did it. She ing did it.”

Pursing his lips, Kyuhyun nodded. “I know.” He walked over to the bedside table and picked up the phone that he had left leaning upright against his bag. “I heard everything.”

“What do you mean?”

Kyuhyun tapped his phone against the palm of his hand. “As soon as she came into the room, I videocalled myself. I have two phones, remember? I took a screen recording of everything—what you said, what she said, how she grabbed you and threatened you… Now we have evidence.”

He sat down at the foot of the bed, gently touching Donghae’s leg. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” Donghae lied, letting the last of his sobs and hiccups escape him. “What now?”

Fetching the wheelchair from the other side of the room, Kyuhyun whisked it over to the side of the bed.

“Now we visit Hyukjae.”

Donghae wasn’t prepared. They had passed by room after room on the tenth floor—in some rooms, he could hear a mix of laughter and relieved voices, and in others, crying and whining. They had passed by families lounging around in the waiting areas, hopeful and scared, friends consoling each other, and one half of a couple crying into a tissue paper. He didn’t want to know which one he’d be. They entered a quieter part of the hospital, turning left and then right until his wheelchair approached a glass door with a large sign above it. The letters I-C-U glowed from it. Intimidated by those letters alone, Donghae took a deep breath.

“Whatever happens, I’m right by your side,” Kyuhyun said, squeezing Donghae’s shoulder reassuringly. He wheeled Donghae pass the automated glass doors and stopped at a reception counter. A lady from behind the counter peered down at Donghae.

“May I have the name of the patient you’re visiting?” She asked from behind a surgical mask, her voice slightly muffled.

“Hyukjae. Lee Hyukjae.” Kyuhyun answered.

“Are you his family?”

Donghae swallowed. “I’m his… I’m his fiancé.”

The lady shot them both a look.

“Room 10,” she answered. “Please remember to sanitise your hands before entering the room.”

Arriving at Room 10 made Donghae want to throw up. He couldn’t help but to notice how much stronger the smell of death was in the ICU bay as compared to the rest of the hospital. Kyuhyun picked up a bottle of hand sanitiser and squeezed some of the gel onto Donghae’s hands before doing the same for himself. I don’t know if I can handle this, Donghae cried internally. He tried to remain expressionless so Kyuhyun wouldn’t know how overwhelmed he was.

“Ready?” Kyuhyun asked gently, bending forward to look at his best friend.

Donghae tried to peer through the frosted glass doors of Room 10, but he couldn’t see past them at all.

“Mm.”

The glass doors parted. Kyuhyun wheeled him into the room, bracing himself. He had no idea how Donghae would react to seeing Hyukjae in this state. Once the glass doors had closed, filtering out noise from beyond the room, the sounds of beeping from the heart monitor grew significantly louder. Donghae looked at his fiancé, feet upwards. All of his limbs, except his left arm, were wrapped in thick casts of sorts. His left arm was bruised from all the needles and wires that had been stabbed into his skin; not only was he attached to a heart monitor, but on top of that, there was a wire transporting some sort of yellowed liquid from an IV bag into his bloodstream. A third wire connected him to a large device which Donghae assumed, was some sort of life support machine. Donghae continued to trail his eyes upwards, noticing every stitch and bruise that marked Hyukjae’s body. His neck and most of his head, however, were hidden from sight and covered in thick bandaging. The only parts of Hyukjae’s face that he could see were his swollen cheeks and eyes, and the nose that he usually loved leaving light, fervent kisses on. Donghae felt a pain like never before stab him in the chest.

“Hyuk,” he whispered, wheeling himself closer to the bed before grabbing Hyukjae’s free hand, careful not to tug on any wires. “My Hyuk.”

Kyuhyun took a step back, wondering if he should leave and let Donghae have a private moment with the love of his life. He decided against it eventually, arguing in his head that he had to be there in case anything happened to either of them. He looked away, unable to bear the pain of the sight unfolding before him.

“Look at us,” Donghae said, choking back tears. “We’re going through this together, aren’t we? Like I promised. Like we promised.”

Donghae heaved and began to whimper, rubbing Hyukjae’s limp hand against his cheek fondly. “Nothing can tear us apart, Hyuk. We’ve been apart long enough. I love you. You know that, right? I know you do. I know you love me too. We’ve been through so much, Hyuk. So, so much.”

A tear trickled down Kyuhyun’s face as he listened in. It was so painful to see both his best friend and his best friend’s fiancé like this.

“I’m here, Hyuk,” Donghae whispered again. “I’ll be right here when you wake up, so please, please wake up, okay? I miss you already. I miss how you’d tease and make fun of me. I miss how you’d nag at me for being stubborn, for not taking care of myself well. I promise I’ll take care of myself from now on, but you have to be around to see it, Hyuk, please.”

He buried his face in his hands. “I’m alive because you love me.”

Just then, Donghae could’ve sworn—he could’ve sworn he saw Hyukjae’s fingers move a little, or at least maybe he was convinced they did. He hoped, hard, that his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. Instead, the beeping of the heart monitor slowed down... flatlining, throwing both Kyuhyun and Donghae into panic.

“D-doctor!” Donghae yelled. “Doctor! Nurse! Someone, help, please!”

A group of hospital staff—a doctor and some nurses—rushed into the room.

“Please wait outside,” one of the nurses said, prompting Kyuhyun to wheel Donghae outside with him.

Donghae was in hysterics. He kicked and struggled and tried to stop Kyuhyun from wheeling him out, hooking his uninjured foot onto the wall, but Kyuhyun was too strong for him, pulling the wheelchair out with all his might.

“HYUKJAE, PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME!” Donghae wailed as Kyuhyun whisked him out of the ICU bay, being mindful of the other patients. Even as they moved out of the bay, Donghae continued to scream and shout.

“I’M BEGGING YOU, GOD, PLEASE DON’T LET HYUKJAE DIE!” He screamed. “LET ME DIE INSTEAD!”

Everything seemed to fade into a distant memory as the seconds ticked by, including Donghae's cries.