Taemin is lying in the hospital, Jonghyun spent the night correcting the formations, I couldn’t sleep a wink, and here is Kibum crying over milk. No, not the spilled milk about Taemin, but just the freaking milk that is left in the fridge. I mean, seriously?! There is so much more to do: What are we going to say at the press conference? What is going to happen for the next few months? How long will it take for my leg to recover? How am I going to carry out my duties properly when I can’t even walk straight? How are we going to carry out our daily activities when all of us are injured? Are Key and Minho really able to dance through their own injuries? What about Jonghyun? How long does it take before his therapy shows results? How is Taemin doing? Is Taemin going to be alright? Is he going to be able to join us again as the main dancer once he recovers? Will he really fully recover from this? Will the fans be let down by our poor performance? Will the fans leave us? Will the fans that caused this get bashed because of this? There was so much to think about, but no~, Kibum just has to cry over milk. Milk. What am I even to say about this?

"Get me a container," Onew ordered through clenched teeth.

"Hy-hyung?" Minho stuttered from confusion and fear. It was rare to see their usually cheerful and ever-so-gentle leader sound so angry.

"Get me one of those food containers; or do I even have to get that myself?" Onew glared at the younger, and Minho immediately shuddered and took a step back away from the sudden stranger in front of him. He scurried hurriedly to the drawers and pulled out a random container that they kept that was used to pack lunches in times of need. With a shaky hand, he placed it on the table, afraid even to pass it personally to the leader. Onew just sat on a dining chair, putting his crutches onto the ground as he packed the contents of a plate into the container before closing the lid firmly.

"Plastic bag," he demanded now, picking up the crutches and he limped over to the fridge and pulled it open.

"Ne-Neh?" Minho replied still confused but quickly scrambled to pull out a plastic bag, smoothing it out before holding it open between them both behind the door of the refrigerator. Onew pulled out two bottles at a time with his uninjured hand, dumping them roughly into the bag.

"Wha- what are you doing, hyung?" Jonghyun asked, still in the midst of comforting Key. Even the crying boy seemed to break away from his tearful trance as he looked timidly at the leader's actions; but Onew just continued tossing every bottle of milk out of the fridge, his jaws locked tight and his eyes burning with incomprehensible anger.

"Hyung... I'm- I'm sorry. Stop it... what are you doing?" Key choked out, just as frightened as the other members were at the sudden change in their leader. Onew took a shaky step backwards after the last bottle was taken out of the fridge, and slammed the door close, making Minho widen his eyes in shock.

"I'll be back soon. Go get ready, we are leaving once all of you get dressed," Onew whispered in a menacing voice even though it already sounded suppressed. No, it was no longer that same soft voice that woke them up, telling them to quickly catch some breakfast before leaving. It was a voice that the other three no longer recognized. Onew grabbed the plastic bag out of Minho's hands, making the younger flinch, and placed the container of food into the bag before stringing his arm through it and over his shoulder. Balancing shakily with the new weight, he moved even slower towards the main door. The other members stayed rooted in stunned silence, just staring as their leader walked out the door.

"What... What is he trying to do?" Jonghyun whispered fearfully. "I- I mean... What the heck just happened...? Who- who was that?"

Listening to Jonghyun speak must have somewhat woken Minho up, since the tall boy dashed for the door no more than a second later, leaving the other two in a bigger confusion.

That's right, who was that? That wasn't Jinki hyung. Jinki hyung would do anything to protect us; he always sacrifices himself for us... That's it! He is doing something for us again. Key cried because of the milk and breakfast, obviously the only way to do that was to get rid of the source. Jinki hyung was only trying to help, just like he always has been. But the anger... The glares... Oh dammit, of course he's angry! He has so much more important things running through his mind right now and his own members are crying and panicking over milk. MILK! Oh god, we are such useless dongseangs. What are we even doing? What was I even thinking when I flared up at Kibum? He was right, I shouldn't be so disrespectful towards Jinki hyung; he has done nothing but help us all these while. With that thought, Minho dashed out the door, looking around his surroundings to spot for their leader.

Onew stared at the stairs in front of him and frowned even deeper. Putting one of the crutches down, he held onto the railings and carefully lowered himself onto his bottom, careful not to let his injured leg touch anything. 4 flights of steps, god knows how long this is going to take. He grabbed the crutch that lay abandoned on the ground, figuring that he'd need it to get back up. Slowly, he used his hands he push himself down the first step slowly.

“Hyung!” Minho called out behind him. Onew looked over his shoulder, back at the younger; his previous anger already simmered down.

“Hey, do me a favour will you?” Onew asked in his usual gentle voice and Minho returned it with a puzzled expression.

“Y-Yes?” he stuttered, slightly afraid that the leader was still angry.

“Bring this down and pass it out to the first few fans that you see. It’s going to take me forever to go down and up again... and I’m not exactly dressed right...” Onew held out the plastic bag for Minho to take, shyly examining his clothes. He was in a simple shirt and shorts that could almost be mistaken as boxers despite the cold weather in order to accommodate with his huge cast on his leg; and now that his anger had died down, he was actually starting to shiver under the cold.

“Sure,” Minho smiled lightly, taking over the bag.

“Be careful not to get hurt. If the fans get too violent, just forget it and run, arasso?” Onew nagged. Minho chuckled now.

“And how were you thinking of pulling that off by yourself, if I may ask?” Minho teased and Onew pouted immediately -- He had not thought that far for himself. Minho chuckled again, reading Onew’s mind. “I got it, hyung, don’t worry about me; just go back and get changed, or you’ll be mistaken as a ert running the streets.”

“Yah, yah, yah!” Onew scolded jokingly but said nothing else to rebut that statement. “Umm... Thanks... for coming after me, I mean... And sorry for flaring up at you, you did nothing wrong and I just... vented everything against you. It was wrong of me,” Onew whispered, bowing his head low.

“I understand, you just have a lot on your mind and Kibum was being a nuisance. It was partly my fault since I said something to him that could have spurred the crying. And I’m sorry for being disrespectful towards you earlier too, it was wrong of me as well,” Minho smiled gently, and reached a hand out, waiting for the leader to take it in order to help him up. “So we’re good?”

“Yea, we’re good,” Onew clasped his hand over Minho’s pulling himself on up his foot.

Onew sat at the edge of the bed in his boxers, staring at the clothes in his hand. He returned to the dorm but Jonghyun and Key were not in the common area, and he wasn’t all that keen on apologizing as well; so he returned to his room to get changed after taking a rushed shower, until he realized that he did not know how. He returned from the hospital in a baggy pair of elastic bottoms that the hospital provided him, got past the night in shorts, and now he have no idea what to do to get out in this cold winter. Those bottom-flared jeans he had were not even enough to be put through that huge bulge of thing on his leg. He picked out a pair of shorts, but he knew he wouldn’t survive the day with shorts that only covered up to his knees. Kibum would know what to do.

Running a hand through his hair a final time, he picked up his phone and called Key, lazy to get up and limp himself to the other room -- that would take up even more time as well. Key frowned at his phone in the other room. He clearly heard the door reopening and closing and the soft click-clack sounds of the crutches a while after he returned to his room to get ready, so why was the leader calling him through the phone? With the phone still ringing in his hand, he went over to the Onew’s room and peeked inside.

“Hyung? Are you calling the wrong number or something? Your phone is calling me,” he asked once he caught sight of the leader sitting on the bed, the phone pressed against his ear. Onew quickly looked up at him before hanging up the phone.

“Ani, I needed your help,” Onew held up his shorts in front of him. “I’m in kind of a crisis right now, how am I supposed to even get out like this?” Kibum lifted a brow and almost laughed. The leader that usually cared nothing of fashion, was actually stressing over what to wear?

“Alright, what seems to be the problem here?” Key stepped towards the bed with an amused expression painted across his face.

“It’s cold out there, and the jeans can’t fit through that mummified piece of thing,” Onew scowled at the cast.

“That ‘mummified piece of thing’ is your leg, hyung,” Key teased, his voice lighter that it had been since the accident occurred. He ran through the closet and threw a pair of shorts across the room, one that he had bought for the elder in the past -- honestly, he disapproved of whatever else the leader bought for himself. “Hold on to those, don’t wear it first.”

“Kibum, it’s cold!” Onew whined like a child.

“Trust me; I know what I’m doing. I need to get some stuff to keep you warm, I’ll be back soon,” Key ordered before throwing another pair of briefs to the leader. “Put those on, I can’t work this out with boxers. You... You’ll be fine dressing yourself, right? I mean with your leg like this and-”

“I’ll be fine,” Onew interrupted, no way would he want someone to dress him up like a doll now. “Thanks, Key umma.”

Key scoffed at that nickname, but smiled back quickly before heading out the door. Onew slipped out of his boxers, which was relatively easy since they were elastic and they slipped off quickly. He stringed the hole of the briefs carefully over his cast before twisting his other leg in an obscene manner to get himself into those briefs. He had hardly slipped the elastic around his hip when Key returned. Onew breathed a sigh of relief; as much as they have seen each other in the saunas, he’d rather avoid those awkward moments. Key placed some woollen leggings on top of the shorts he picked out, matching the colours carefully.

“Leggings? Kibum, I’m not you! I’ll look ridiculous!” Onew whined again.

“Look, do you want my help or not?” Key smirked, he too wanted to know how Onew would look in those leggings. Onew pouted with a frown.

“Isn’t there any other-”

“No,” Key answered quickly.

“Tch,” Onew scoffed but he knew he had no way around it. Key finally chose a suitable pair of leggings and helped to stretch the elastic with both his hands, gesturing with his head for Onew to put his foot through.

“You’d better thank me, I’m risking overstretching my precious clothes for you,” Key mocked, pulling the leggings just above the cast, and allowed Onew to put on the rest himself. Onew just grumbled unhappily under his breath. Key handed the shorts to Onew and dug for a matching top as the elder dressed up. Turning around to pass the top to him, Key ended up bursting in laughter.

“You- You... I never thought there would be a day where I would see you dress like this,” Key laughed, covering his mouth daintily. He passed the top and an extra vest to the elder, and killed his laughter abruptly. His chest heaved from pain, but he held strong.

“Shut up, it’s all your fault,” Onew grumbled, but still looked amused. It really shocked him when he heard that familiar laughter, and if making him look like a fool could make Key laugh, he wouldn’t even mind it.

“Wear a trench coat to cover it. That’s the best I can do for you.” Key bit his lip from laughing again. “And to think that you’ll be dressing like this for the entire month till winter is over.”

“Yea, I need your help with my clothes through this damn winter,” Onew groaned at the thought of having to dress this way for the next few weeks.

“Deal!” Key chirped, more than excited to see the leader finally dressing fashionably ( at least to his standards ), and all thoughts of the previous outburst were already long thrown out of mind.

Anyone with awesome photoshop skills that can show me how Onew looks like with Key's fashion sense? Hahaha, seriously, I can't even imagine that :x