Minho had been sitting in the chair by Taemin's bed for hours, watching him with a small lump in his throat and talking to him every now and then. The initial silliness he had felt at speaking to an unresponsive person had completely gone. It was actually kind of calming – like meditating – and he could lift some of his burden by just talking himself hoarse even if it still pained him Taemin wasn’t responding. He told him about the last few days, how much he missed him and how he was trying to be strong, for his sake as well as the people around him. He even mentioned his and Jinki's search for his mother, although he wasn’t sure what Taemin would think of it.

Once they had decided she should at least be informed about Taemin's accident they had taken turns looking her up. So far, Minho had found out she had moved away from the house she and Taemin had lived in to a small country town. Then Jinki had found out she had been to rehab – Minho had known she had problems with alcohol, so it wasn’t all that surprising – for a few years and that when she was released she had most likely changed her name and moved once again to get a fresh start. So, now all that was left was trying to find out her new name and address, which the authorities weren’t quite that keen on relying to strangers, even if they stressed they needed to tell her vital information about her son.

“Choi Minho?” a woman’s voice suddenly interrupted his thoughts.

Minho turned in his seat, reluctantly looking away from the ever so still and pale form of Taemin to face the speaker, who was watching him from the doorway. Her hair was long and blank, reflecting the fluorescent light coming from the corridor, and she was wearing a white coat which covered her grey pencil skirt and light pink blouse, making her look cold and professional.

“Yes?” he answered her questioningly.

She smiled a little – so detached and pitying it looked kind of horrible – and walked up to him, holding out a hand. Frowning, he shook it in mild confusion.

“I take it doctor Nam has not told you about my department yet,” she said, still smiling in that ugly way and it was starting to weird Minho out. She looked like she had practiced that expression in front of her bathroom mirror to perfection in an attempt to be professional. He had a bad feeling about this. “It doesn’t matter anyway.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not following,” Minho said slowly. “What department?”

“I’m doctor Song. I’m a grief counsellor here at the hospital,” the woman explained, sounding unnervingly patient.

Oh.

Oh.

“Okay…” Minho automatically leaned away from her a little. “What are you doing here, though? I’m not grieving.”

Doctor Song watched him, still with that detached pity clear in her eyes, and Minho decided he disliked her quite a bit. He felt as if he was being judged behind her carefully placed expression, and it didn’t seem to leave a good impression on her either.

“I’m here to speak to you about the inevitable,” she said in what she must have believed was a soothing manner but only made him want to punch her in the face. His fists clenched and his jaw tensed. “You will need someone to talk to about your loss and grief. I am that someone.”

Correction; Minho was starting to loathe her.

“I’m sorry, doctor Song,” he ground out through his teeth, trying to sound polite which was near impossible since she was clearly making assumptions about him already without having even talked to him more than five minutes. “But I haven’t lost anything and if I would need someone to talk to, it certainly wouldn’t be some half-assed pitying stranger like you.”

The fake pity in doctor Song’s eyes intensified and Minho felt like strangling her. If she was going to try and help him, the least she could do was be sincere about it – which at the moment was the furthest from what she seemed to be.

“I understand this is hard for you Minho, but opening up to and confronting your feelings will help you in the long run.” She patted his hand.

Minho was really, really close to punching her.

“It’s okay to cry.”

She moved to put an arm around his shoulders and Minho practically flew from his seat, backing away from her.

“Okay, you know what?” he growled, all mannerisms flying out the window. “I don’t feel like talking to you, or seeing you ever again, so would you kindly leave me with my grief and go help someone who appreciates your rehearsed crap.”

She continued looking at him with fake pity for a few moments more before pulling a small, white card out of her pocket and handing it to him. He took it reluctantly, hoping it would make her go away.

“I want you to call me when you’re ready to talk and accept what is happening,” she said in that same soothing-but-not-really voice. “We can make it through this together, Minho.”

He simply gave her a tight nod and then she finally left, casting one last revolting glance back at him. As soon as the door closed behind her and her blank hair disappeared from view in the small window Minho tore the card with doctor Song’s details to shreds and tossed them in the bin by Taemin's bed, barely refraining from burning the entire thing up as well.

To hell with shrinks and their snarky, know-it-all attitudes. He didn’t need their fake concern and the I-understand-but-not-really looks or comments. He just needed some peace of mind, which he was certain no shrink could give him no matter how much they picked at his brain and emotions.

~*~

“Jonghyun, dear.”

Jonghyun looked up from the newspaper he was reading – or trying to read, if his mind hadn’t been so occupied by a certain ‘almost-stranger’ and making him read the same line over and over again – and at his grandmother, who was resting in her bed. She opened her eyes to look at him with a small smile.

“I would like some tea, but I’m quite tired,” she said. “Could you go get some for me?”

“Of course.” He stood up immediately, dropping his newspaper on the other bed in the room where he was going to sleep since he didn’t have work tomorrow. “Would you like something to eat too?”

“No, just tea is fine,” she said and closed her eyes again.

Jonghyun bit his lip, feeling a little worried about her tiredness. His grandmother usually had her up and downs, it was nothing new really. It still managed to scare him every time she just spent the day in bed when her energy level was too low to do much else besides dozing off or listening to the radio or TV. Those instances made him realise how fragile and old she actually was.

He shook his head a little to get rid of the disturbing thoughts as he made his way over to the nurse’s kitchen just a few doors away. He was always welcome to use their kitchen if he wanted, which was where he usually got his grandmother her tea. He spent so much time at the hospital that most nurses on the third floor knew him pretty well and treated him like one of them; letting him come and go whenever he needed, and even sit down and eat with them when his grandmother was on a check-up or in physiotherapy. The hot cocoa, however, was always best down on the third floor for some reason.

And it was even better now that he had someone to share it with, he thought bashfully, feeling a little silly as a small smile stretched his lips while his thoughts once again wandered off to Minho. Why in the world was he this into him?

“That boy is a hard nut to crack,” a woman’s voice interrupted his thoughts as he entered the nurse’s kitchen. He almost jumped, for a crazy moment thinking he had said his thoughts out loud and received an answer. “He won’t last long if he doesn’t let himself feel.”

Jonghyun frowned when he realised she was talking to someone else and rounded the corner to the eating area to be met by the sight of a woman in a long white coat conversing with another woman in baby pink scrubs. He didn’t recognise any of them and just kind of awkwardly gave them a small nod as they glanced at him before going back to their conversation.

“You know boys, they tend to bury their feelings to not show weakness,” the woman in pink said wisely and Jonghyun raised his eyebrows to himself as he passed them.

“He was certainly very mean, too,” the coat woman sniffed. “I mean, I’m just doing my job. Couldn’t he show some respect?”

Jonghyun quietly made his way over to the counter, filling the water boiler and turning it on before taking a cup from the cupboard above it and putting a few green tealeaves in it, doing his best not to eavesdrop too much. It was kind of hard though, what with them being so close in the small kitchen and all.

“Anyone in his position would have been smart enough to talk,” the coat woman continued and something in her tone was ticking Jonghyun off. Was she even sincere in trying to help this person she was talking about? It sure didn’t sound like it. “He’s not going to come very far the way he handles the situation. Everyone needs someone to talk to at times like these, in order to lighten their sorrow.”

Everyone needs someone to talk to in order to lighten their sorrow…

Immediately, Jonghyun's thoughts went to Minho and the sight of his shaking shoulders as he tried to keep his tears from falling, his dishevelled look and the desperate, panicked shine in his eyes. Did he have someone to talk to? Jinki seemed more than willing to help, but something told him Minho didn’t want to burden his friend with his own sadness. Taemin was friends with both of them, if he had understood correctly, which likely put them in the same position, with the same grief and helplessness.

The boiler finished and he heaved a heavy sigh, his frown deepening as he poured the hot water into the cup. He left the two gossiping women to continue their conversation in private with another small nod goodbye, which they ignored.

Maybe he could try and talk to Minho, Jonghyun thought as he entered his grandmother’s room and found her asleep. He put the cup down on her bedside table and made himself comfortable in his bed again with a sigh, picking up the newspaper to continue his attempt at reading it. He knew he was meddling too much in business that had nothing to do with him, and Minho was most likely going to be fed up with him sooner rather than later, but he was still very much interested in the other, which in turn made him want to help him however he could. Minho seemed like a good guy and Jonghyun kind of really wanted to see a smile on his face just once. A real, radiating, toothy, toothpaste commercial one and not the small quirks of his lips he had witnessed before.

That was really all there should be to it.

~*~

Minho stared down at the message on his screen tiredly, rubbing one of his eyes before letting out a deep sigh and looking up at Taemin's pale face.

“We found her,” he murmured, glancing down at the text from Jinki again. “We found your mother.”

There was no response. Not that he had expected any either.

“I’m going to go talk to her tomorrow,” Minho continued anyway, putting his phone back in his pocket and dragging both hands over his face. “She should know about your accident and it’s my last free day too. Which also means I can’t be here as much, but I’ll try and come as often as I can. I promise you won’t be lonely.”

If Taemin was awake he’d most likely roll his eyes and tell Minho to stop fussing so much and just go back to work already and it made a lump grow in his throat. Minho had become really emotional in the few days he had spent by Taemin's bedside, but he couldn’t help it.  He really missed the younger’s bright smiles and cheerfulness, especially as he stared at the motionless state he now was in.

“Did I tell you about Jonghyun?” he asked, saying the first thing that came to mind as he tried to distract himself. “He’s a nice guy. Maybe a little of a busybody, but yeah… Jinki likes him too, I think. He keeps buying me hot chocolate from the coffee machine. He seems to like it just as much as you do…”

Minho swallowed harshly before sighing and grabbing one lifeless hand. He squeezed it lightly while watching the heart monitor steadily record every beat of Taemin's heart.

“I really want you to wake up, Minnie,” he whispered, his voice breaking. Then he let his head fall onto the mattress, pressing his forehead into the coarse, yellow fabric of Taemin's blanket. “It’s only been two and a half days but it feels like forever and I don’t want the doctors to come and tell me it’s useless and that I should stop your life support. I can’t, Taemin. I can’t deal with that.”

A few tears dropped down onto the blanket, turning it a shade darker, and Minho drew in a ragged breath.

“I’ll keep waiting for you, you know that right?” he asked shakily. “I won’t ever let them kill you.”

Of course, there was still no answer from the pale body on the bed and Minho just let all his gates open, letting his tears flow freely as he sobbed into the blanket.

~*~

To say Jonghyun was nervous when he stepped off the elevator on the third floor later that night was an understatement. He didn’t know if he would find Minho on the couch like he had the previous evenings or if he had decided that Jonghyun was too nosey and would be avoiding him from now on.

His nervousness disappeared immediately when he saw the sprawled out figure of a dozing Minho. He stopped for a second, watching how his head leaned back against the wall behind the couch and how his long legs were stretched out before him, his arms folded over his chest. Then he approached him quietly, eyeing him tentatively as he gingerly sat down beside him. Minho didn’t show any sort of reaction and Jonghyun was tempted to reach out and brush away the hair that had fallen into his face. He didn’t, however, and just simply let his eyes roam over the quite handsome face before him.

Minho had even darker bags under his eyes than he had had the first night they met and he was frowning in his sleep, his lips pressed together while his jaw clenched and unclenched. His breathing was hitching every now and then as well, and it made Jonghyun wonder if he had been crying recently.

Suddenly, Minho tensed and opened his eyes slowly. Jonghyun froze, feeling caught doing something he really shouldn’t. Well, he actually was kind of caught doing something he really shouldn’t. He had been staring at Minho without his permission while he was sleeping after all. If that didn’t spell creepy, he didn’t know what did.

Minho blinked a few times before his eyes focused on Jonghyun. Recognition flashed in his eyes and he sat up a little straighter, dragging a hand over his face tiredly.

“Hi,” Jonghyun murmured with a small smile. He could feel his cheeks warm a little.

“Hi,” Minho answered gruffly.

Jonghyun chuckled at the disoriented expression on his face before standing up, trying to hide his embarrassment.

“I came for my nightly hot cocoa,” he said, mentally giving himself a pat on the shoulder for managing to sound so casual. “Do you want some?”

Minho didn’t answer him and he glanced back over his shoulder to see him frown down at his hands. As if Minho felt him looking, he slowly raised his head, meeting Jonghyun's gaze.

“I… don’t know…”

Jonghyun's hand, which had been halfway raised to put coins in the coffee machine, fell to his side again. He retraced the few steps he had taken to sit back down, silently watching him, waiting.

“Why do you drink hot chocolate?” Minho murmured after a long moment of silence.

Jonghyun tilted his head in thought.

“Well…” he said slowly. “It’s just kind of a tradition I started.” Minho glanced at him questioningly and Jonghyun smiled. “I’m here a lot since my grandmother is in the long term care ward. I usually stay until late, if I don’t sleep here, and to get a little more energy I drink hot cocoa. It gives me a little boost and makes me feel a little better no matter how tired or how bad my day has been.”

Minho leaned back against the couch again, sinking down in it with a deep sigh, and closed his eyes, looking like he was thinking this new information over.

“Why do you keep buying it for me, though?” he asked.

Jonghyun's smile widened.

“Because you look like you need it.” Then he frowned slightly. “Unless, you want something else? I won’t buy you any alcohol though.”

The corners of Minho's lips quirked and he opened one eye to peer at him.

“Okay,” he murmured and Jonghyun laughed lightly.

“So?” he asked. “Do you want?”

Minho looked thoughtful for a moment, his already miniscule smile falling. Then he nodded slowly.

“Yeah.”

It sounded sad and distant, making Jonghyun's smile fall as well. But he got up again without asking, put the coins in the machine and waited for it to finish. Soon they were both sitting with a paper cup each, Minho staring down at the contents of his dejectedly while Jonghyun kept his eyes trained on his face and tried coming up with anything relatively smart or comforting to say.

“I’m scared,” Minho suddenly muttered and Jonghyun couldn’t help but start a little.

“Yeah,” he murmured back. “It’s understandable.”

Minho turned his gaze on him, looking lost and helpless.

“I don’t know what to do. How to help him.”

“I…” Jonghyun paused; unsure of what to say, assuming ‘him’ was Taemin. “I guess you just have to be… brave…”

“Brave?” Minho frowned.

Jonghyun smiled somberly.

“Yeah, you know, be brave enough to not give in and let everything just eat you up, to face it head on and have faith.”

“Have faith…” Minho echoed and raised his eyebrows ever so little. “Are you religious?”

“Nah,” Jonghyun chuckled. “Don’t have the attention span or time for it.”

Minho smiled the slightest.

“You know, sometimes it can be a lot easier to talk to a person you don’t know all that well,” Jonghyun said softly, turning serious again. “And I don’t really have anywhere to be at the moment, since I’m staying the night here.”

Minho's smile fell and he looked away. Jonghyun squirmed in his seat a little. Maybe he had crossed a line? But he just wanted to ease Minho's pain and sorrow, even if just a tiny bit. He really was too much of a busy-body, wasn’t he? Why hadn’t Minho punched him yet?

He chewed his bottom lip anxiously, watching Minho swallow harshly a few times and blink rapidly, most likely trying to keep tears from falling. It was very quiet for a while; Jonghyun couldn’t even seem to hear the heart monitors around them as he watched Minho clearly debate with himself on what to do. Then Minho looked at him again, swallowing one last time before opening his mouth.

“Taemin and I,” he started hoarsely, “are very close. I look out for him and he always has my back. We do everything together. We are best friends and when he ran away and started living with my family we… we became more like… brothers.”

Jonghyun smiled softly, trying to keep from frowning at the hesitation in Minho's words. Then Minho suddenly smiled and Jonghyun barely managed to keep his jaw from falling to the floor. His heart did a weird stutter in his chest as he watched the smile light up his entire face, filling it with warmth and colour.

“Taemin is always so cheery and talkative,” Minho continued. “He runs into my room every morning to open the blinds and jump on my bed to wake me up with his chatter, he completely disregards my personal space and has no boundaries with his teasing and when I try to scold him he just bursts out laughing in the middle and I can’t even stay mad at him. But even then he is considerate in the way he always has coffee brewed for me and the table set for breakfast or when he goes out of his way to help the old woman next door with her grocery bags or when he makes faces at babies on the bus to get them to smile.” He laughed a little and Jonghyun's breath got stuck in his throat. “He never lets anything get him down for too long and always ends up making those around him smile in some way or another.”

“He sounds really nice,” Jonghyun murmured, his heart still fluttering in his chest at the soft, happy expression on Minho's face and the sudden string of words flowing out of him.

Minho looked at him, a sparkle in his eyes that hadn’t been there before making him seem almost proud.

“He is,” he said softly. “The nicest person I’ve ever met even though his childhood was hard.”

“Oh?”

Minho's face fell and he frowned down at his hands, sighing deeply.

“His mother wasn’t really the… loving, motherly type…” he said slowly. Then he glanced at Jonghyun again and let out a soft snort. “Why am I even telling you all this?”

Jonghyun gave him a gentle smile and dared to reach out and grab the hand that wasn’t holding the paper cup. Minho's eyes snapped to his in surprise and he blinked confusedly before giving a tiny, unsure smile back, once again disrupting the already unsteady beat of Jonghyun's heart.

“Does his mother know?” Jonghyun asked quietly after a beat of silence and Minho bit his lip.

“No,” he murmured. “I’m planning to go see her tomorrow and tell her.”

Jonghyun nodded.

“Is Jinki going with you?”

Minho frowned and shook his head.

“He has to work and since tomorrow’s my last day before I have to go back to work too we decided I should do it. She lives a few hours out of town.”

Jonghyun chewed his lip nervously for a moment, watching Minho as he stared back down into his cup.

He contemplated if he should offer to accompany him to see Taemin's mother. It couldn’t be easy to go talk to someone who didn’t seem the least bit interested in the one you held close to your heart. He didn’t want Minho to feel worthless or put the blame on himself for failing. At what, he didn’t know, but he knew he wanted to make sure Minho knew he wasn’t at fault. So he mustered up all the courage he had and opened his mouth.

“Do you want company?”

Once again, Minho looked up at him in utter surprise. He stared at him, a small frown forming between his eyebrows.

“I-I mean,” Jonghyun continued quickly, wondering if he had come on too strong, “only if you feel like you don’t want to do it alone. It can be a little difficult, I imagine.”

Minho's frown deepened and he looked down at their still connected hands. Jonghyun quickly withdrew his as if he had been burned, feeling irrationally awkward and out of place all of a sudden. Minho continued to look at the back of his own hand for a moment before raising his eyes to Jonghyun's again.

“I…” he said, looking a little confused. “Well… if you want?”

Jonghyun could feel his face grow hot and looked away, unable to meet his eyes.

“Uh, y-yeah I,” he stuttered, “I-it could make it easier?”

It sounded so unsure that Jonghyun blushed even harder and just wanted to shrink in on himself. He was handling this like a moron. He hadn’t even thought before opening his stupid mouth and now Minho most likely thought he was a nosey idiot and would start yelling at him.

“Okay,” Minho murmured.

Jonghyun flinched before realising he had actually accepted his offer and looked back up at him. Minho met his gaze and gave him a small, unsure smile, which made a soft warmth spread in Jonghyun’s chest. He could feel it in his cheeks as well and he fought with all his might to not let a silly smile spread on his lips.

A/N: I OTL This is waaay overdue and I haven't even proofread which means this is completely raw and I'm sorry for that ;__; You have the right to think this is awful. And if you're wondering why this has taken so long it's because I've been busy (still am) and I kind of got stuck doing a marathon on a ten seasons long TV-series haha. God, I'm lame... and unsocial...

Anyway, thanks for still giving this story a chance if you're reading it! And sorry once again!

Love!<3

Bye~!