Junsu sat in the living room miffed that the television didn’t have cable.  They didn’t even have an Xbox or Nintendo.  These living conditions were unbearable as far as being a gamer was concerned.  No cell phone, no contact with the outside world – this was way worse than the time they spent under the SM contract.

Not only that, he felt a bit stifled artistically.  What were they going to rehearse?  They hadn’t discussed a concept, let alone set lists.  No way was he going to be a puppet again.

He looked up to find Yunho mimicking his posture and facial expression.

“What?”  Yunho’s condescension irritated Junsu.

“I should be asking you what’s going on inside your head.”  Yunho dropped the pretense.

“You’re still SM’s lapdog, aren’t you?”  Junsu knew he had overstepped the boundaries.

Yunho set his jaw and scowled at Junsu, who thought for sure he’d be scolded by the leader.  His first instinct was to apologize, yet he was interested to discover whether or not Yunho would defend himself.

JaeJoong happened to walk in on the situation only to witness their leader’s enraged stance.  He looked from Yunho to Junsu, expecting Junsu to be cowering; however, the young man’s eyes showed willfulness that JaeJoong had never seen before.

Nothing that Yunho’s fists were clenched; JaeJoong physically placed himself between the two men, avoiding putting his back to the leader.

“Changmin!” JaeJoong kept his voice even, not wanting to elevate the tension in the room

The maknae shuffled down the hall, stopping at the entrance to the living room.  Stepping between angry Yunho and his target was still a frightening prospect for Changmin.

“What the hell…” was all he could think to say at the moment.

JaeJoong glanced from Yunho to the maknae wondering what position Changmin would take.

“Hyung, what’s going on?” Bravely Changmin positioned himself sideways between the elder and the leader as the question was for the both of them.

Yunho took a step back realizing he was outnumbered and that marring Junsu’s pretty face over a comment meant to rile him wasn’t worth it.  Was Junsu testing him?  Maybe.  He was their leader, and as adults, physical threats to unfounded accusations were better left to days gone by.

“You’ve grown up, Junsu.  I’m not sure I like who you’ve become.  I’m nobody’s lapdog.  Don’t forget that.”  He glanced at Changmin, letting his eyes reveal the barest hint of betrayal he felt before retiring to his sleeping quarters.

JaeJoong spun around ready to reprimand Junsu.  “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I didn’t do anything.  He was mocking me.”  Junsu hung his head in shame.

“He’s worried about you.  With Yoochun being in the hospital and no contact with Junho or video games to play, he knows you’re hurting.” JaeJoong sat on the couch nest to the smallest member of the group.  He placed his arm around Junsu to comfort him and was shocked to realize that Changmin had burgeoned into a strapping young man who overshadowed his hyung in physique.

While Changmin’s leader honed him into a lean, mean dancing machine, Junsu’s leader let him work himself into a thinness that now seemed unhealthy by comparison.

“Mianhe, Xiah.”

Junsu looked to his hyung curiously.  “Wae?”

Changmin was reluctant to return to the bedroom and finish reading since Yunho was now occupying some of the space.  Not only that, he was almost positive the leader would want to speak a few angry words to him.  Not going would only delay the inevitable and give Yunho more time to get angrier.  Changmin sighed heavily and made his way back to their room.

Upon entering he found the older man lying back on his bed, hands clasped behind his head, legs crossed at the ankles.  It seemed to exaggerate Yunho’s height and big feet, which were still no match for the maknae’s lankiness.

For the briefest of seconds he hesitated be approaching his bed, expecting Yunho to come right out and say something.  Instead there was just silence.  Changmin proceeded to his bed, picking up the manga he was reading and settled in.  Every now and then he looked over at his hyung.

After the third time Yunho noticed the maknae practically glaring at him, he rolled over giving Changmin his back.  Someone began turning the pages of his book with intensity – too fast to really be reading.  “Are you really reading?”

“Of course not.  Are you really mad at Junsu?”

“Yes,” He rolled over and sat up, “and no.  I’m more angry with myself.”

Changmin found it hard to suppress his grin.

“Yah, and I’m mad at you!”

Here it comes. Changmin prepared for the battle.  “What did I do?”

Yunho looked at him with piercing eyes.  “It’s what you didn’t do.”

Changmin tossed his book aside.  “And what is it I was supposed to do?”

“Have my back.  You always said you would.”

The younger man bowed his head and bit his lower lip.  “I said I would always have your back as long as you were right.”

“Are you saying I was wrong?”  Yunho was perched as if ready to pounce on Changmin.

“All I did was ask what was happening.  You didn’t say anything, just left.”

“You should have stepped next to me, not between me and Jae.”

This time Changmin’s grin was accompanied with laughter.  “Yunho, hyung, someone had to protect you and JaeJoong from each other.”

“The only one who needed protection was Junsu,” Yunho sneered.

“And what did our precious Xiah say to incur the wrath of Uknow?”  Changmin was half serious, half joking.

“I don’t even want to think about it anymore.  It’s over.”  Yunho sighed, lying down and turning away from the maknae.

Clearly it wasn’t over.  Changmin was torn between staying in the room and reading or giving Yunho some space; although he thought it would seem a bit suspicious if he left, since he was thinking about confronting the others.

Junsu sat at the kitchen table with two pieces of paper in front of him.  On one sheet he wrote things he wanted to entertain himself. On the other was a list of items crucial to survival.  So far the entertainment sheet included decks of playing cards, a soccer ball and a fushigi ball.  On the other were written computers, keyboards (instrumental), staff paper, pencils and erasers.

JaeJoong watched him curiously, wondering what he was up to.  “Su,” he said reading the lists over his friend’s shoulder, “what is all this?”

“My list of demands.”  He didn’t look up, fearing his hyung would laugh at him.

“Can I add some things too?”

This really surprised Junsu.  He vacated his seat so that JaeJoong could take over.  “Min and Yunho should add their requests too.”

“I know Baek Chang Joo will get us what we need.  I don’t know about Lee Soo Man…” Jae hated bringing up that name.

“If SM cannot give them what they need to be at their best, then it is up to us to make sure they have it.”  Junsu knew someone was listening in on whatever they said.  He wanted that someone to know he wasn’t going to back down, just like he hadn’t backed down earlier with Yunho – although that time it was mostly for show.

Miles away the echoing cry of a firebird awoke the sleeping Yoochun. He opened his eyes to a bright white iciness that made him shiver.  Feebly he his dry lips trying to remember how to form words.  Almost immediately a figure was standing over him making notes on a clipboard.  He wanted to say something…anything, but hall he could do was open and move his lips like a fish.

Once the nurse put the clipboard down, she became aware of many things at once – her patient was awake and shivering.  With his temp down to 101⁰F it was safe to remove the cooling blankets and tuck him in to keep the shivering at a minimum.  The fish out of water imitation was a usual reaction that usually disappeared when water was applied.  She filled a small cup with water, put in a straw and headed for Yoochun’s lips.

“Drink slowly,” she said softly as she raised his head with one hand and position the straw with the other.

He was able to up enough to unstick his tongue and throat, but by the time she had taken it away, he was back to feeling like it was all stuck again.

“Don’t worry about trying to talk right now.  Just rest until the doctor gets here.”

At least she realizes I’m trying to talk, he thought.  This must be normal. Yoochun was no stranger to hospitals.  He at least knew vaguely where he was.  But why or how he came to be there seemed to escape his memory.