Putting the code in the door is hard. Opening the door, getting everything inside is all hard, because it means letting go of her. Dropping her hand for a minute to get everything down is hard for Jackson because he doesn’t want her to disappear. Even in the car ride up there, he had her pulled close to him. 

He tries to punch the code in again, but the door swings open on its own. Standing in the door is JB. Jackson doesn’t know why JB is there, but he doesn’t question it. He just hands the bag to him and pulls Chrissy in behind him. 

Walking into the condo, he sees all the members standing up in the living room looking at them. He just nods and starts pulling Chrissy to the back to get her in bed. 

“Hyung, you’re hurting her.”

Jackson stops in his tracks to look back at Chrissy limping up to him and holding her side. He had her hand in his and he was pulling her along, not noticing that he was moving faster than she could at the moment. He wanted to hit himself. He was so busy trying to get her home, and in bed, and safe, that he was literally dragging her along, and it was hurting her. 

He waits for her to limp up beside him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers to her. 

She just looks at him and smiles.

“Let me get her in bed, and I’ll come back,” Jackson says to the rest of the members without looking back at them. 

Slowly he walks with her again, letting her move at her own pace. He brings her down the hallway and into his room. He could have put her in another bedroom. They even passed up a spare bedroom, and it would have been easier and quicker to put her in there. But he wanted her in his room. In his bed. 

Once they’re inside, he leads her to the bed. 

“Here. Lay down,” he says, pulling back the cover.

“I don’t want to get the bed messy.”

He looks at her to see her clothes bloody and dry. He wants to hit himself again. His heart is pumping so fast, and a thousand thoughts are rushing through his mind and he can’t focus. He sits on the bed, carefully moving her in front of him. He reaches to the hem of her shirt. “Can I?”

She pauses for a minute and looks at him before nodding her head. “I don’t think I could do it myself, so, yes. Help me, please.”

He grabs the hem and tries to pull it up, but it sticks to her and she hisses. The shirt was soaked in blood and now the blood has dried and it was sticking to her like tape. 

Slowly he peels the shirt off of her stomach until it reveals a long blood-stained bandage right above her belly button. He pulls the shirt off more and the bandage comes up with it. He looks at the long gash.

“How badly are you hurt?” Jackson asks her.

She looks and pulls the bloody bandage down. “Not enough to cause stitches, but it’s a little deep. It just looks long and nasty. Most of this blood… most it wasn’t mine.” Chrissy tries really hard to keep the tears in. “Bruised ribs and muscle strain in my calf. The doctor on the boat said I need to keep the wound clean and out of water, and to stay off of my feet and rest for a while. I have to go to the hospital to see another doctor soon though.”

He can smell the blood on her clothes, but he can also smell the salty sea water on her. How long has she spent in these ocean-soaked clothes?

“I’m…” he coughs to clear his throat. “I’m going to take most of your clothes off for you, okay?”

Chrissy nods. 

Slowly, he peels the rest of the shirt off of her, careful not to lift her arms too much because of her ribs and the cut across her stomach. Even pulling off her jeans was a hassle because they were stiff and clung to her. 

She stood in front of Jackson in just a bra and , and though he was a man, nothing turned him on about seeing her in blood-soaked underwear. It made his heart break.

“Close your eyes,” she whispers.

He does as he’s told. And he can feel her moving and as whatever she does causes her pain.

“I… I did most of it, but I still need your help. Keep your eyes closed but give me your hands.” 

He holds his hands up and he feels her take them and slowly guide them onto her body. He tries to imagine what he’s touching. Slowly, his hands slide along her skin until he reaches a band and realizes that he’s touching the clasp of her bra. 

“Can you unhook this?”

He could. He knew how. 

Slowly he unhooks it. Then his hands move on their own to her shoulders and he slides the straps off until he feels the bra fall into his lap.  He takes his hands off of her as if her skin burns them, and grabs the bra and tosses it to where he thinks the rest of the clothes are. 

She takes his hands again, and places it on her, and runs them down until he feels fabric and feels her knees. Her . He had to finish taking off her . 

He slowly pushes them down, holding his head away, and he feels her put her weight on him as she slowly steps out of them. 

When she’s done and standing on her own again, he gets off the bed, moving away and turning away from her. He opens his eyes to see himself looking at the other end of the room, giving her some privacy. 

He walks over to his dresser and starts pulling some close out for her. A shirt, basketball shorts, some boxers. “Would you like to take a shower?” Jacksons asks.

“I can’t. My cut. I’ll have to take a sponge bath.”

“Ah. right. I’ll just get you a towel for now, and I’ll get that stuff for you.”

He pulls a towel from the shelf near his bathroom and puts it on top of the pile. He tip toes to the bed with his back still turned, and he lays the pile on the bed where she can reach it. “Anything else?” He asks.

“First aid, so I can replace my bandage, and food.”

“You didn’t eat?”

“On the boat,” she whispers,” They didn’t have enough food for everyone. So, we made sure the children and the elderly ate first. Then when the women ate… there were some men who were so hurt… they needed it more than I did.”

“So you didn’t eat?!” His voice came out harshly. “Don’t you think you did enough for them by then. You should have eaten. You should have taken care of yourself first—”

“Don’t yell at me!”

Jackson could hear the tears in her voice, and it instantly soothed his anger. He didn’t know why he was so mad. He just was. She shouldn’t have worried about saving so many people, or feeding everyone else. She should have been selfish and taken care of herself. She should have…

Jackson fights the burning behind his eyes and the heaviness in his chest. “I’m sorry. I’ll get you some food, and sore bandages and wipes. Okay? Just…” 

Without looking back at her, he walks out of his bedroom, closing the door behind him. If he hadn’t left that room in that second, he wouldn’t have been able to control himself. He would have turned to her, or not, and he would have kissed her. Kissed her until he knew for sure that she was real and she was right there with him.

When he yelled at her, all he could think was “mine. You are mine.” He had to physically stop himself from begging her to be his. To only go to him and no one else. To let him be her only one. But it wasn’t the time for that kind of thing. He couldn’t take advantage of her while she was still in shock from what happened to her. She needs someone to look after her, not make moves on her. 

With head hung low, he walks into the opening of the house and faces every member of the group carefully watching him.

“Is she okay?” Mark asks. 

Jackson walks closer and closer to them, finally letting the tears fall. “I don’t know.. I don’t know.”

He walks until he feels the arms of s tightly around him.

“What do you need?” someone asks him.

“Food,” he says, “and first aid, and… I don’t know.”

He breaks down. His entire body is racking with sobs that he can’t keep in. 

“It’s okay,” he hears as someone rubs his back, we’ll figure it out.”

“Hyung, she could have died. I thought she was dead,” he cries harder. He can feel arms tighten around him. “I thought I lost her.”

“It’s okay, Jia Er, we got you. You're not alone.”