“Hyung?” Taemin paid no attention to the four heads that turned to look at him, still looking at the computer screen he had been staring at for the past hour. He himself had no idea which one he was talking to—it was just easier to get everyone’s attention that way. “Manager-hyung just emailed me asking if I would do a question-answer with a few reporters. Should I?”

As soon as it came to asking for advice, three heads turned to Jinki and eventually the maknae himself joined them. Put on the spot, the leader sputtered for a few seconds before being able to answer. “Sure. I mean, if you want to. You don’t have to, but if you feel up to it you can. It would be good for the fans.”

Sensing his rambling himself, Jinki shut his mouth and nodded to Taemin with a smile. “But…” The maknae trailed off as he looked at the screen again, “I don’t know if I want to do it alone… Would you guys do it too?” His eyes turned to them, pleading slightly now.

Not that it was needed. “Sure Minnie. I’m in if it’s okay.” Key answered almost immediately, followed not seconds later by the other three.

“I’ll tell him that then.” He gave a little nod to himself and got set typing on the computer. They all turned back to what they had been doing before with one of the only noises in the room being Taemin’s clicking keys and then the mouse as he switched to do other things.

But a small thump from the bed had them looking back not long after. Taemin was staring at the screen with wide eyes, hand still on the table where he had hit it. “People think I’m dying?”

“Minnie…” Key had been the one to take over the situation as tears streamed down Taemin’s cheeks, but none of them could have expected what he said. “You… you are.”

It had been taboo to them, saying that there was an end to Taemin’s life and that it was soon. Sure, they had heard what the doctors had said and talked about that, but they talked about it as if Taemin was going to prove them wrong.

But now there was no false hope, no sugar-coating the life he had been forced to live recently. “I’m really dying. I know I am, but it’s hard to wrap your mind around when you say it and even harder when you heard other people saying it…” Taemin was talking to himself as he looked out the window at the night sky, looking at the stars and the moon so bright. “I’m really dying. There’s going to be a day when I stop breathing and don’t start again. My heart is going to stop beating. My brain won’t tell my body what to do anymore. My body won’t be able to do things… I’m dying.” A few tears fell, but Taemin did nothing to stop them. “I’m afraid. I don’t want to die. There are so many things I haven’t done yet…”

As if the person above hadn’t had enough fun playing with Taemin, the next song in the playlist on his iPod came on. “Life couldn’t get better!”

He didn’t even try to stop the song, only watched the screen light up and then fade back to black. His mouth moved along with words he still remembered from the one time they had done the song for a performance. “Am I going to be able to sing again before then? Or dance? I can barely walk now without getting tired…” The song continued and he looked back at the device playing it, as if staring it down would make the song change. “Who’s going to cry when I die?”

Taemin was sitting up in his bed and clutching a bucket when the others got there the next morning. He barely got out a greeting to them before he was sticking his head back inside the wide opening and heaving more. Even as Key and Jinki sat next to him to try and make it a little better, the diva couldn’t help but notice the two feet clad in multiple pairs of socks to keep them warm.

Much of the day was spent just laying low in the room as Taemin drifted in and out of consciousness and stayed attached to his bucket. Movies were watched, board games played, but not much else was done. At the end of the day, the only thing any of them left there with was the knowledge that even if a person believes there is nothing in their stomach, it is still possible to throw something up.

A lot of something.

Taemin was the one to teach them that through first-hand experience.

“The doctors said you can be released today. They’re going to take the stitches out when you come for blood work and Minho has the rest of the appointments written down.” Instead of a hyper-active Key telling him the news about his release like he had expected, Taemin had been woken by a calm Jonghyun. With only the two of them in the room, he blinked a few times before it registered.

“Where’s everyone else?”

He smiled at the sleepy voice. “Filling out paperwork. Come on; as soon as you are changed and they are done, we can go. I brought some clothes for you.” Opening the bag he was carrying, Jonghyun pulled out a pair of big sweats and a t-shirt. “Let’s get you closer so I can help.”

“You don’t need to…” But Taemin’s protests were weak as he slid himself closer to the edge. Jonghyun undid the gown first before sliding the shirt gently over the boy’s head and pulling his arms through the holes like one does with a baby. “I can do my pants myself…”

“It’s okay.” Jonghyun stuck both of Taemin’s sock-encased feet through while he was still sitting and pulled the sweats up as much as they could go before looking up. “You just have to get down. Do you want some help?” The only answer was an embarrassed nod and he gave a little smile as he grabbed Taemin’s hips to make the little jump down lighter on him. Only after the boy was standing did he pull the pants up a little more and the gown was left abandoned on the bed.

“Thanks hyung…” Taemin’s voice was softer than normal in his embarrassment, but it was still heard.

“Not a problem, Taemin-ah. But you’re lucky; you get a wheely-chair to take home with you now. Sit down and I’ll give you a ride.” The mortification became even worse as Jonghyun motioned to the wheelchair, but Taemin knew there was no fighting and only sat as he had been told. “The others will grab your things. We can just go meet them then I’ll take you to the car first. Sound good?”

Jonghyun didn’t even wait for an answer before he started pushing the chair towards the door. And while Taemin had expected him to be running with it from how excited he seemed with the wheelchair, Jonghyun pushed it about the same as the nurses.

He would never admit he doubted his hyung.

But he had.

“It’s August eleventh at four-thirty-four in the morning, one day after coming back from the hospital.”

“Again!” Jonghyun’s yell from the kitchen added to Taemin’s video, making him smile slightly.

“Yes, again. It’s good to be back though.” He leaned back onto the couch, filming with the laptop on his lap. “Updates… I get a wheelchair now. Jonghyun-hyung likes playing with it.”

“‘Cause it’s awesome.” The dino himself appeared next to Taemin, a bottle of strawberry milk held out to the maknae.

Taemin took a sip of it as the elder walked around and sat next to him, turning on the TV quietly. Whatever you say hyung. I don’t find it so cool, but you seem to. Anyways…”

Before he could say anything else, Jonghyun was cutting in again. “Why don’t you say why we are up at this god-forsaken hour?”

“Stop interrupting my video!” He wasn’t really as he protested and they both knew it. “But we’re up because I managed to fall off the couch in my sleep… Happy hyung?” A tongue was stuck out at the elder and returned. Taemin gave a little laugh before turning back to the camera. “As I was going to say before, we are talking with reporters today. It’s been a while since I’ve done something for the fans.”

“Over a month. When you had the attack at the performance before your surgery.” Jonghyun gave the detail Taemin was searching for in his mind without even looking away from the show. “Fans miss you.”

“Well I’m coming back with something now!”

“What the hell are you two doing up?” Both heads whipped over to see Key standing there, blond hair in disarray as he glared at the two through sleepy eyes. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

“Shouldn’t you be too?” Jonghyun gave a smile to Key that only annoyed the diva more. “Come join us and we’ll explain.” He patted the seat next to him and still half-asleep, Key listened.

Taemin’s video was going to get a lot funnier.

Taemin’s grip on both Jinki and Key’s hands tightened as the few reporters entered the meeting room they were in only to let go completely only a second later. Both looked at him, but Taemin had taken to spinning the hospital bracelet on his right wrist to keep himself distracted. All five of them gave smiles to the people, but every one of them was fake.

They couldn’t honestly smile then no matter how hard they tried.

Greetings were done, cameras set up, and seats across from them taken before anyone mentioned anything about Taemin. “Taemin-ssi, how long have you been sick?” From there it went downhill and the bracelet playing turned to finger-knot-tying. Hats were taken off, stitches and scars shown, but there was no humor in the whole interview like SHINee was known for.

Because anyone could see how sick the maknae was then. Anyone could see that he was dying. “Are there any words you want to say to other people going through tough times?”

Taemin looked down both sides of him to his hyungs—his supporters—and then down at his own hands before facing the cameras again. “Don’t give up. It can get better if you want it to and aim for it to, but if you give up, it never will. So stay strong.”