Chapter Text
Jeongin needed to be better. He should've been better. He knew what was wanted of him, what was expected, but he couldn't do anything right.
Again. He cursed himself and went through the steps again in his head.
Again. He tripped.
Again. Not good enough.
Again. Land the fucking turn! Jeongin hissed as his ankle twisted beneath him. He cursed and slammed a hand into the wall, the resounding smack echoed through the mirrored, and thankfully soundproof room.
Jeongin panted heavily, his head between his knees as he sank to the floor. He just needed to learn the choreography. It wasn't that hard, a simple 360 turn, then a side shuffle and knee slide, and some basic hand movements. All to a heavy bass inspired track. It was (in comparison to all of their other choreos) basic, and Jeongin felt stupid. He remembered his hyungs watching him with disappointed gazes, he heard the heavy sighs from Minho and Chan. He saw the bags under their eyes from constant practice and not enough sleep, their too thin bodies from not having time to eat paired with their intense diets.
Jeongin needed to learn this, get something right for once, for his hyungs.
It was why he said he'd stay back and keep practicing for a bit longer. A 'bit' had turned into almost six hours, it was now almost four o'clock in the morning. (And time flies when one feels useless.) Jeongin hadn't meant to stay that long, but he just wasn't improving and for some reason, today more than any other, the choreography wouldn't stay with him. He should just leave and let his hyungs succeed without him holding them back.
Jeongin slowly picked himself up off the floor of the practice room and leaned on the mirror as a wave of dizziness crashed over him. His head spun and he felt something drip from his nose. He reached a shaky hand up to his face only to pull away and discover that his fingers were coated in crimson. Jeongin noticed for the first time, that his head was pounding as if someone had gone and stuffed cotton through his brain. His stomach swirled and his mouth suddenly felt dry.
Jeongin's sight went hazy and his ears began to ring, Jeongin vaguely remembered pulling his phone out of his practice bag before everything went black.
Chan woke to his alarm at 7:00. The soft, constant tones were infuriating. If he could make his alarm anything else, he would in a heartbeat.
He groaned, rolled over and looked across the room for Minho who was peacefully slumbering, before turning to Changbin's bed; empty and neatly made. He pulled back the covers and stumbled into the kitchen. Changbin was nursing a cup of coffee with too many creamers and the rest of the pot lay unattended on the counter.
Chan poured himself a cup, threw an arm around Changbin’s shoulders, and waited for the others to wake. After another thirty minutes of no one, not even Jeongin, the proclaimed 'early riser' waking up, Chan crept into Hyunjun's room, only to find one of the beds unoccupied. Jeongin's.
Chan furrowed his brows and checked the other bunks. Their youngest wasn't with Jisung. Maybe he went and slept in Felix and Seungmin's room, the maknaes often slept cuddled up on a bunk, all of the blankets in the dorm automatically being confiscated.
Chan opened their door and peeked in. Jeongin wasn't there. Chan felt an unwelcome feeling pool in his gut. He knew something had to have been wrong for Jeongin to be gone, but he didn't want to freak out over nothing. First, he'd call their manager and see if Innie was called in for anything because that had to be it. Jeongin was fine, just working with the producers or vocal coaches or something.
Chan slunk back into the kitchen and raced to his phone, immediately dialing their manager's number. Changbin looked up, curiosity, and concern evident in his gaze. Chan shook his head and was about to speak when the manager answered.
"What's up? I thought you guys had the day off until practice tonight?"
"We do, but Jeongin isn't here, is he with you? Was he called in?" Chan questioned worriedly.
"He wasn't called in today, in fact, he's been spending more time with the vocal coaches lately, they wanted me to tell you to give him some time off to rest his voice."
"Shit." Chan cursed and thanked his manager before hanging up and slamming his fist on the counter.
"Hey, he's probably just with the coaches again, or in the studio catching up with practice. Don't worry Channie, we'll find him. And then you can scold him for the next five years."
Chan laughed and leaned into the younger’s embrace, grateful for the reassurance. "You know I will."
Changbin left Chan with his coffee and his phone, hoping their youngest might call, while he went to wake the others. Jisung was stretching and yawning as Changbin walked in, he told the rapper to head to relay the information to his still sleeping roommates and then meet them in the kitchen.
Changbin approached his own room and woke up Minho, the dancer grumbled and playfully fought off Changbin’s attempts to shake him from sleep. Changbin huffed softly before launching himself onto the bed, and onto Minho. Minho screeched and rolled onto the floor, Changbin laughing maniacally from the abundance of blankets.
The two headed to the kitchen and saw the members sitting around the table looking grim. Hyunjin was tapping his fingers anxiously and Jisung was gnawing on his bottom lip. Minho's face fell as he surveyed the room. Minho's eyes scanned the heads around the table and his breath stuttered when he realized there were only eight people.
"What's wrong? Where's Jeongin?" Minho looked to Chan who had his eyes glued to the table.
He whispered something that not even Felix, who sat on their leader's left, could hear.
"Where is he, Chan?" Minho's voice echoed through the silent space.
"We don't know," Changbin answered.
"What do you mean, 'we don't know'? How can we not know where he is?!" Minho demanded incredulously.
"Minho, calm down please, baby. We'll find him, the managers are looking." Chan replied placatingly.
With the pet name, Minho sighed and sat down next to Hyunjin and Seungmin.
Felix chimed in, "Couldn't we at least go and help them look, Chan-hyung? I mean," he paused looking around almost shyly, "We know him best, where he'd probably be."
Chan nodded thoughtfully and pulled out his phone, grateful to have something to do besides sit around and wait.
Everyone huddled around Chan, anxious for the response. They could only hear bits of the conversation because Chan hadn't put the phone on speaker. They knew that Felix's idea was approved when Chan let out a sigh of relief and smiled, thanking their manager.
Everyone scrambled into their clothes and pulled on shoes and raced to the door.
"Where have the managers looked?" Hyunjin asked, pulling out his phone to make a list of places Jeongin would've gone.
"They've called the vocal coaches and the makeup noonas on the second floor. They were going to check the practice rooms but thought we could do that while they checked the gyms. They also thought it would be better if we found him and not them, they aren't exactly happy at the moment." The others chuckled, nodded, and raced out the door and down the hall. Minho threw open the door to the stairwell and the eight boys sprinted down the steps taking them three at a time.
They reached the practice room and burst inside.
None of them were prepared for what they would find: Jeongin laid on his side, a pool of blood like a deadly halo around his head, skin pale and wan.
Chan stifled a gasp of horror and raced across the room to his maknae's side. He flipped their youngest onto his back and desperately reached at his neck to feel for a pulse. The world lifted off of his shoulders when a faint, thready beat danced under his fingertips.
Chan began softly speaking to Jeongin, praying that he would wake up, open his eyes and reassure his hyungs that he was fine, that everything was fine and this was all a dream. But, it was too good to be true. Nothing they did could get the singer to stir.
There were streaks of it stained rust on the mirror. Chan cradled his youngest lover on his lap and rocked him slowly, begging, pleading, to anyone or anything to let him be okay.
Chan could hear Minho on the phone, speaking urgently before hanging up and racing to his side. Everyone had gathered in a circle around Jeongin, everyone was touching him; reassuring themselves that he was here and that he would be fine, he had to be.
Everything else was a blur, at some point that ambulance arrived and two paramedics took away the boy on a stretcher, their manager got into the ambulance and they left.
The members were left in shock. Chan and Minho had blood on their hands.
Seungmin was staring at the floor, seemingly at nothing.
Changbin and Felix held each other.
Jisung and Hyunjin openly cried too distressed to muffle their sobs.
Like robots, thoughtless machines, the members went back to the dorm. They didn't even bother with the couch and sat on the floor, shoes still on and huddled together. They waited and waited until the phone rang and they were in the car on the way to the hospital. They needed to see Jeongin.
The seven members raced through white hallways with harsh lights and a harsher scent before reaching room 309. They crept in to see their maknae, bundled under blankets and an IV stuck in his arm.
He looked so small, smaller than usual, lying alone in the hospital bed. His skin was still deathly pale and the high pink flush on his cheekbones remained. The only thing changed was the blood or lack thereof. Jeongin's skin was scrubbed spotless.
Jisung and Changbin rushed to the sleeping boy's bedside and grasped his hand, they held their heads against it and cried. Minho stood behind them, comforting his dongsaengs. Felix and Chan crowded the bed, slipping in beside their youngest, holding him close and listening to him breathe and the steady beat of the heart monitor.
Jeongin could hear voices. Some were louder than others, but they were there. One sounded suspiciously like Hyunjin, but he was dead. So why would his hyungs be there? Jeongin breathed a small sigh of relief at the thought of death. The others could finally move up in the industry like they were supposed to, they wouldn't be brought down by him anymore, and he couldn't be hurt.
"Innie?"
Jeongin's eyes shot open and he immediately zoned onto Hyunjin's face. "H-hyung?"
Hyunjin had tears running down his face. "Hyung is here, Innie. We all are."
Jeongin looked around the room and noticed the monitors and the harsh lights. Hospital. He wanted to scream.
"Jeonginnie, please."
He met his hyungs gazes and tears started to match Hyunjin's. He wrapped his arms around himself and he felt Chan and Felix join the cocoon of warmth.
Soon all eight of the boys were piled onto the too-small bed, whispering loving words and reassurances and just holding their baby.
"Why?" Chan was the first to voice the question they were all thinking.
"W-why what, h-h-hyungie?"
Everyone melted and squeezed a little tighter.
"Why would you do that to yourself? Why wouldn't you call one of us?"
Jeongin started to shake and soon he was sobbing. "I-I--"
"Deep breaths, Innie, you're okay," Jisung reassured, wiping away his tears.
"I just wanted to be good enough." Jeongin finally whispered.
Eight hearts collectively broke and more tears were shed, but before anyone could say anything their manager walked and said that Jeongin was allowed to go as long as he iced his ankle for the next few days and rested for the week.
"What's wrong with his ankle, hyung?" Felix asked, glancing at the maknae who had just found the blandly patterned sheets very interesting.
"There was a minor sprain that they think was overworked, or not given a chance to rest. It could become a tendon tear, they want him to take it easy, no practice for the next two weeks."
Jeongin's head shot up, his mouth was open and ready to voice complaints when Chan cut in, thanked their manager, who walked out and told them to hurry to the car.
The boys silently gathered their things and set about their way back to the dorms.
Jeongin sank into the couch next to Felix and Hyunjin, both of who were wrapped around him like koalas. Everyone settled near their maknae, giving soft kisses and reassuring glances, all except for Chan. His brows were furrowed in concern and his mouth was set in a line.
"Inne? Baby? Please, what did you mean back at the hospital?" Chan implored, his hands seeking the youngest's.
"I know I'm not very good at anything really, so I was practicing so I could be good enough, you heard what JYP said, I look like an amateur. I never should've debuted."
Before Jeongin could say any more, he was cut off with soft lips on his.
"No. Don't you ever say that."
"It's nine or nothing."
"You are a stray kid, you are Jeongin, our baby, our maknae."
"You're a beautiful dancer."
"You have the voice of an angel."
"JYP doesn't know what he's talking about."
"Jeonginnie, we wouldn't be here without you."
"We love you."
Jeongin might just believe them.