The next several hours were a blur for Yongguk. His mother arrived at some point and sat with him in the waiting room, her arm around his shoulders as if he was still a little kid. He didn’t mind. He found it comforting.

After some time – who knows how long – a nurse came to update Yongguk, bringing with her a social worker.

“Junhong is out of the danger zone for now,” the nurse informed him gently. “He’s got a broken arm and several broken ribs, as well as multiple lacerations and a severe concussion. We’ve stabilized him for the time being.” She gestured to the woman with her. “This is Mrs. Ha. She’s a social worker on staff for the hospital. If you don’t mind, I’d like you to speak with her. You know, tell her everything that happened. Do you think you can do that?”

Yongguk nodded numbly. He didn’t want Junhong to ever go back to those horrible excuses for human beings and if he had to talk for the next twenty years to ensure that that wouldn’t happen, he would.

The social worker sat beside Yongguk. “Would you prefer to speak in private?” she asked, glancing at Mrs. Bang with her arm still around Yongguk’s shoulders.

“No, here is fine,” he said quickly. He didn’t want his mother to leave him. At the moment, she seemed like the only thing holding him to reality.

The social worker nodded and her tape recorder. “Okay. Start at the beginning, if you don’t mind, and tell me everything.”

Yongguk didn’t know where to start at first, but once he started talking, everything came out like word vomit. About how he’d grown increasingly suspicious about Junhong’s ever-growing collection of wounds and scars but how he’d caught some little brats picking on Junhong at school once and thought it was just some bullying from classmates. How he’d once sewn Junhong’s arm up because the kid was terrified of going to the hospital. How he’d finally put everything together that day when he went to the Choi’s apartment.

“Why would he be so terrified of the hospital?” Yongguk just couldn’t understand it. “Why would he refuse to go so adamantly?”

The social worker gave him a sad sort of smile. “Because hospitals have social workers like me, and by law social workers are required to get involved when they suspect child abuse. Because social workers like me take them away from their family.”

“Should he want to be taken away?” Yongguk demanded, flabbergasted. “Shouldn’t he want to get as far away from them as possible?”

“Logically, yes, but these things don’t always happen that way,” the social worker sighed, turning off her recorder. “Often victims of abuse feel that they somehow deserve it, like they’ve done something they need to atone for. Often time it makes them feel even more attached to the abuser. I imagine Junhong will want to go home when he wakes up.” She sounded sad at that thought.

Yongguk was panicked immediately. “You won’t let him, will you? You won’t let him go back with them?”

“Of course not,” the social worker assured him, getting to her feet. “With injuries like this and your firsthand account, it’s not going to be difficult to persuade a judge to suspend all parental rights.”

Yongguk swallowed hard. “What if his parents come here?” he asked. “What if they try to come here to see him?”

Again, the social worker gave him a sad sort of smile. “They won’t be allowed,” she assured him. “There’s a security guard outside his room and all guards in the hospital have been provided with photographs and instructions not to allow Mr. and Mrs. Choi into this facility.” She patted Yongguk on the shoulder. “Thanks to you, Junhong is going to be just fine.”

“Can I see him?” he asked uncertainly. “I really want to see him.”

“Baby, that may not be the best of ideas right now,” his mother stepped in, her arm tightening around his shoulder. “Junhong has been under a lot of stress lately and he really just needs to rest.”

“But I want to see him,” Yongguk pressed. , he was half a second away from blubbering right there in the waiting room.

The social worker agreed with Mrs. Bang. “Junhong probably won’t even wake up for a while, and when he does there will be doctors everywhere so you won’t be allowed in to see him. And there’s a chance that he might blame you. It’s irrational, I know,” she pressed on when Yongguk opened his mouth to object. “But Junhong’s mind has been twisted by this abuse and it’s possible that he will see you as the reason he’s being separated from his mother and father. You’ll just have to be prepared for that, okay?”

Yongguk stared at her blankly. There was no way Junhong would blame him. He’d saved the kid’s life! Junhong wouldn’t blame him. Right?

“Why don’t we get home?” Mrs. Bang suggested, getting to her feet and pulling Yongguk up after her. “It’s been a long night and you need some sleep.”

“I don’t want to go,” Yongguk argued, allowing himself to be steered toward the exit anyway. “I want to stay here. I want to see Junhong.”

“I’ll have a nurse call you as soon as he wakes up,” the social worker assured him. “We’ll keep you updated on his status.”

It was well past dawn when Yongguk and his mother left the hospital. He was exhausted, both physically and mentally, but he didn’t think he could sleep. Indeed, even after he’d laid down in his bed, he was wide awake. Images of Junhong, injured and bleeding and unconscious, kept flitting across the backs of his eyelids, intermingled with happy memories, of Junhong laughing and Junhong smiling and Junhong in Yongguk’s arms.

He groaned and rolled over, pressing his pillow over his face.

He got a phone call from the social worker the following morning, but it was brief and to the point. Junhong had woken up and so far didn’t seem to have suffered any permanent brain damage, but he didn’t want to see Yongguk.

Yongguk didn’t know what to do, so he did the only thing he could do. He called Yongjoo.

“Hey, baby bro,” she said when she answered, and he could tell from the tone of her voice that their mother had told her what happened.

“I don’t know what to do, noona,” he whispered, and there were those tears he’d been fighting so hard to keep at bay. “He almost died and he doesn’t want to forgive me – , he blames me – and I’m ing losing it! How could a parent do that to their child?”

Yongjoo sighed. “Did you know that Junhong used to have a brother?” she said.

That startled Yongguk enough that he stopped crying. “What?”

“Yeah,” his sister said. “He died a couple years ago, right before we moved in here. It was sort of a big scandal, but I guess you were too young to really care about it.”

“Junhong never said anything about it,” Yongguk muttered, remembering all the times he’d complained about his own brother and how Junhong had never said anything. He felt sort of hurt by this omission of an important detail.

“I can’t imagine that he would,” Yongjoo agreed. “The thing was, Junsu, his older brother, was sort of perfect. I may have a picture in an old yearbook somewhere or something. He was good-looking, smart, popular. Literally everyone loved him. Junhong practically worshipped him. But there was an accident. I never heard what really happened. I don’t know if anyone really knows. Junsu and Junhong were home alone when it happened. But after that, I guess Junhong’s parents sort of blamed him.” She sounded sad. “It happens sometimes. Parents aren’t supposed to have favorites among their children, but some do. And when you lose your favorite, it’s hard not to blame the one that stays behind. It’s hard not to wish that it was that one that died instead of the other one.”

“What sort of parents could think like that?” Yongguk demanded, disgusted. “People like that should never have children in the first place!”

“There are a lot of people who should never have children in the first place,” Yongjoo agreed solemnly. “But they do anyway. Just give Junhong some time. Once he’s away from his parents for a while and starts seeing a therapist, he’ll come to his senses.”

“Are you sure?” Yongguk demanded, voice cracking again.

Yongjoo hesitated. “Nothing is for sure, baby brother, other than life and death. Just give him some space and try not to beat yourself up over it.”

Easier said than done, Yongguk thought miserably.

The next few days were the hardest for him. He hardly got out of bed. He only ate when his mother threatened him, and then it was only enough to not pass out. He didn’t answer any of the dozens of calls his worried friends gave him.

Finally the social worker called. “I think Junhong will see you if you’d like,” she said, though she still sounded a little uncertain.

Uncertain or not, Yongguk jumped on the opportunity. He showered and got dressed in clean clothes – something he had not done since coming back from the hospital – and rushed there without telling anyone where he was going. A nurse at information directed him to the correct room, and, heart pounding, he made his way there.

Like the social worker had promised, there was a security guard waiting outside the room. He asked for Yongguk’s ID and, after making sure he was on the list permitted to visit, he allowed Yongguk inside the room.

It was too bright in there, all fluorescent lights and too-white walls. Junhong looked tiny and pale in the hospital bed, an IV hooked into the arm that wasn’t in a sling. His blonde curls were a mess, just a bit of dark showing at the roots. He looked thin, gaunt.

Yongguk swallowed. “Hi,” he mumbled. His voice sounded too loud for the quiet whirring of the machines in the room.

Junhong looked up at him, eyes hollow, face too pale. “Hi,” he echoed softly.

An awkward silence stretched out. Yongguk didn’t know what to say. He wanted to ask how Junhong was feeling but obviously Junhong was feeling like . It seemed rude to ask it. He wanted to lighten the tension by making a joke, but maybe Junhong wouldn’t find him funny. Maybe Junhong hated his guts now.

“I had to do it, you know,” he blurted out, hands twisting together anxiously. “Bring you to the hospital, I mean. I had to do it.”

Junhong sighed and looked away. “I know.”

“You were going to die, Junhong!” Yongguk was panicking now, going into full-blown meltdown mode. “I couldn’t let you die! I ing love you!”

Another sigh, and then he said, “I know.” And that was it. No reciprocal ‘I love you.’ No ‘thanks for not letting me die.’ Not even an ‘I don’t hate you, I just need some time to think things through.’ Yongguk felt like he’d been shot through the heart. He sat down heavily in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs in the corner.

“My sister told me about your brother,” he said when he could think of nothing else to say.

Junhong stiffened but didn’t look Yongguk’s way. He didn’t answer.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Yongguk pressed. “I thought boyfriends told each other everything.”

“I thought boyfriends didn’t hide their boyfriends from their friends,” came Junhong’s flat response. Another bullet to the heart for Yongguk. Then he sighed. “What was there to say, Yongguk? I had a brother and he died. That’s it. End of story.”

“That’s not all there is to it,” Yongguk said.

“Yes there is,” Junhong replied sharply. Then he sighed and used the hand not bound by the sling to rub his eyes wearily. “Look, I’m really tired. I think I’d like to get some sleep now.”

Knowing that he’d been dismissed, Yongguk got to his feet. But he paused in the doorway. “Do you hate me?” he asked in a small voice that didn’t even sound like it belonged to him.

Junhong sighed again. “No, I don’t hate you. I know that you were doing what you think is right, and I respect that. And I respect your love for me.”

“But you don’t feel the same way anymore,” Yongguk finished for him. God, it was a miracle he didn’t start crying right there.

“I didn’t say that,” Junhong said, and that halted the waterworks for at least a minute. “I just…I need time. I need time to sort out my feelings and everything.” He hesitated. “They’ve given me a therapist. He comes and talks to me about everything. Apparently I’m…messed up in the head.”

Yongguk was beside the bed in an instant, taking Junhong’s hand in his own. “You’re not messed up,” he insisted vehemently. “You’re just a little…confused. That’s all. You’ve been through a lot, after all.”

Junhong chewed on his lower lip but didn’t say anything.

“Get some rest,” Yongguk suggested softly. “I’ll be back again tomorrow, same time. We’ll talk more then, okay? Do you still have your cell phone? If not, you can use the hospital phone. Call me at any time of the day or night. Even if you don’t have anything to say, you can call me. I’ll be there.”

The ghost of a smile crossed Junhong’s wan face. “Okay. Thanks, hyung.”

Before the younger could stop him, Yongguk swooped down and stole a kiss from unsuspecting lips. “See you later, Junhonggie.” 

So now you know more about Junhong's backstory. 

I apologize for my lack of my updating. Things have been incredibly busy for me lately. My mom is getting married. I'm moving to South Korea in three weeks. I've been trying to spend as much time with my family and friends and boyfriend as I can. So I'm updating when I can. And I really appreciate all of you who read and comment on this story. That being said, PLEASE don't leave me comments or send me messages saying I "owe" you guys an update. I don't "owe" anybody anything. I'm busy and I have a life, and I update when I get a chance to update. Comments like that actually make me want to update even less, tbh. I don't mind the "love the chapter, update soon" comments at all, it's the ones where readers imply that I have to drop everything in my life and update right away. Sorry for the rant, this is just something that really gets under my skin. 

Anyhoooooo I hope you guys liked this chapter and I'll update again soon ^^