Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

As the first rays of dawn crept through the thin curtains of his shared dorm room, Minho stirred beneath the tangled sheets, his body heavy with the remnants of a restless night. He blinked against the harsh light, his eyelids feeling like lead weights, and let out a groan that echoed in the stillness of the room. It was obvious he had overslept his alarm, especially if his roommate Seungmin was already awake and out of their room. 

The mattress felt like a prison, each coil digging into his back, a cruel reminder of the hours spent tossing and turning, haunted by dreams that slipped away like smoke. With a reluctant sigh, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, the cool floor sending a shiver up his spine, amplifying the fatigue that clung to him like a second skin.

His head throbbed, a dull ache that pulsed in time with his heartbeat, and he rubbed his temples in a futile attempt to get rid of the fog that clouded his thoughts. The world outside seemed too bright, too loud, and as he stood there, swaying slightly, he couldn’t shake the feeling that today would be a battle against the shadows of his own exhaustion.

Minho had to practically drag his own body into the bathroom beside their bedroom; splashing a nice few handfuls of cold water onto his sticky-warm face in an attempt to free himself off this insane exhaustion. 

yet, did it work? not in the slightest. 

instead of standing, more like swaying, at the bathroom counter for any longer, the brunette decided on a shower. hopefully, it'd be enough to wake him up, freshen up his warm skin and get him in a better mood before practise later that day. 

Around 20 minutes later, the door to the bathroom creaked open, minho stepping out, the steam from his shower swirling around him like a lingering fog. He ran a hand through his damp hair, the droplets glistening from the light radiating into the hallway from the windows each end.

The moment he crossed the threshold into the living room, he was met with the cheerful faces of his band mates—Felix, with his bright smile that could light up the darkest of days; Changbin, who was already animatedly discussing breakfast plans; Chan, whose warm presence felt like a comforting embrace; and Seungmin, who offered a teasing grin that hinted at mischief. 

minho had not a single clue on how any of them were so cheerful and awake for a Monday morning.

"Good morning hyeong!"

seungmin chimed up, looking towards his roommate upon his entrance.

Yet, despite their infectious energy, Minho was still unable to shift the heavy weight of exhaustion that continued to settle over him, as if the very air he breathed was thick with fatigue.

He managed a faint nod, his lips barely parting to form a response, but the words were lost in the haze of his weariness, leaving him to silently navigate the cheerful chaos that surrounded him.

Quietly, minho sat himself down on one of the dull coloured bean bags in the corner of the room, one hand on his lap as the other hand dried his hair with a fresh warm towel. 

Around 10 minutes or so later, the eight members of Stray Kids gathered around the breakfast table, the air filled with the enticing aroma of sizzling bacon and freshly brewed coffee.

Hyunjin was flipping pancakes with a smile, his laughter ringing out as he playfully tossed one too high, only to have it land with a soft thud on the floor. Felix was busy spreading butter on his stack, his cheerful demeanor infectious, while Bang Chan orchestrated the morning chaos, ensuring everyone had their fill.

Seungmin, ever the pragmatist, was already critiquing the pancake texture, while Changbin and Han engaged in a light-hearted debate over the best toppings.

Yet, amidst the cheerful banter and the clinking of cutlery, Minho sat quietly, a heavy weight settling in his chest. He could feel the familiar twinge of discomfort creeping through him, a reminder that his condition was flaring up again.

Amidst the laughter and chatter, Jeongin sat quietly, his gaze drifting over to Minho, who seemed unusually subdued, his usual introverted spark dimmed.

The older member's brow was slightly furrowed, and his fingers drummed nervously against the table, a subtle sign that something was amiss.

Once everyone was sat at their respective seats and as the conversation flowed, Chan's perceptive eyes caught Minho's distant expression, prompting him to lean in with concern.

"Hey, Minho, are you okay? Is your POT's flaring up again?" he asked, his voice laced with genuine worry.

The room fell silent for a moment, the care-free atmosphere shifting as all eyes turned to Minho, who offered a small, reassuring smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Jeongin felt a pang of concern for his hyeong, wishing he could bridge the gap between Minho's quiet struggle and the energy of their breakfast gathering.

Yet, to avoid making his hyeong any more uncomfortable, he simply let the conversation go for now and turned back to his own plate of surprisingly well made pancakes. 

Minho had always been the type to shy away from the spotlight, preferring to blend into the background rather than be the centre of concern. The thought of his friends worrying about him made his stomach churn more than the pain itself.

As he took a sip of his tea, he focused on the warmth of the cup in his hands, using it as a distraction from the discomfort that threatened to surface. He silently vowed to endure, to keep his struggles hidden; despite the eldest and youngest semi-catching onto him already. 

As they made their way to the practice studio, Minho felt a familiar tightness in his chest, a reminder that his condition was flaring up, and with each step, the weight of it pressed down harder.

Once inside the studio, the atmosphere shifted as the music began to pulse through the speakers.

The choreography to s-class was always intense, especially this early. However, the members dove into practice without much hassle or arguing, their bodies moving in perfect sync.

But as the routine progressed, Minho's symptoms escalated. He struggled to keep up, his breaths becoming shallow and laboured, the heat radiating from his body contrasting sharply with the coolness of the room.

Each jump and spin sent a jolt of discomfort through him, and he could feel the sweat trickling down his back, a mix of exertion and the creeping illness that threatened to overwhelm him. The others, caught up in the rhythm, occasionally glanced at him, their expressions shifting from concern to determination as they pushed through the routine, unaware of the worry and slight panic brewing within feline-like friend.

Minho fought to maintain his composure, but with every beat, he felt himself slipping further away from the vibrant energy that usually defined their practices, the music becoming a distant echo as he battled against the rising tide of his own body’s rebellion.

he ignored it. he ignored it as much as he possibly could....

As the routine reached its climax, Minho prepared for his signature high kick, a move that had become a crowd favourite.

He launched himself into the air, the world around him blurring as he aimed for perfection. But in a split second, the unexpected happened; his foot slipped just as he reached the apex of his kick, sending him tumbling to the ground.

The other members, caught up in the rhythm, initially thought it was just a minor misstep, a momentary slip-up in the flawless execution they were known for, that minho in particular was known for. So, for a moment, they continued to dance, the youngest two even chuckling sympathetically at the panting male on the floor. 

However, as the seconds ticked by, a chilling silence enveloped the sweaty fogged-up dance room.

Minho lay still, his body unmoving against the polished floor, and the realisation hit the members like a wave.

Chan was the first to break away from the choreography, rushing to his side, followed closely by Hyunjin and Felix, their expressions shifting from confusion to concern.

Panic surged through the group as they knelt beside him, calling his name, but there was no response. Seungmin quickly checked for signs of consciousness, while Han and Changbin exchanged worried glances, their hearts racing.

I.N stood frozen, the weight of the moment pressing down on him, guilt settling in. he should've spoken up, voiced his concern for his hyeong.. 

The vibrant energy of the practise faded, replaced by a desperate urgency to ensure Minho was okay. 

Minho lay sprawled on the floor, his body limp and unresponsive, a stark contrast to the vibrant energy that usually radiated from him. His hair, damp and tousled, clung to his forehead, and his cheeks were flushed, a sign of the exhaustion that had overtaken him.

Chan knelt beside Minho, his brow furrowed in worry as he gently shook his friend’s shoulder, calling out his name in a soothing tone, hoping to coax him back to consciousness.

Hyunjin rushed to grab a nearby towel, dabbing at Minho’s forehead in an attempt to cool him down while Felix, offered words of encouragement, trying to lift the mood despite the tension that hung in the air, in particular for the younger members who seemed more than scared..

Seungmin stood close by, his eyes wide with concern, ready to fetch water or anything else that might help. Meanwhile, Innie hovered at the edge of the group, his youthful face etched with worry, while Han paced nervously, his hands fidgeting as he tried to think of what they could do to help the elder. 

''hyeong, why wont he wake up?'' jeongin asked quietly from where he stood - not entirely sure which hyeong he was asking for. 

felix took that as a cue to move to the youngest, wrapping an arm around his shoulders while chan carefully moved the limp boys body onto his lap, two fingers moving to calculate his pulse and heart rate. 

''he needs a minute or so ayen-ah.. stay calm okay?.. god, i knew he was flaring up..'' chan mumbled the last part to himself, watching the brunnette on his lap as he shushed him softly. 

''his pulse hyeong, whats it like?''

''fast.. his heart rate is around 150, 152..'' 

As the minutes ticked by, the room was filled with a palpable tension. Changbin paced restlessly, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, while innie sat cross-legged on the floor, his eyes darting between his older members, trying to absorb the gravity of the situation. Hyunjin finally broke the silence, suggesting they call for help, but Chan shook his head, his focus unwavering on Minho.

He spoke softly, urging Minho to wake up, his voice a steady anchor amidst the rising panic. 

Suddenly, a soft groan broke the silence, and Minho stirred, his eyelids fluttering open to reveal bleary eyes that struggled to focus.

The relief that washed over the group was almost tangible, a collective sigh escaping their lips as they leaned in closer, eager to ensure he was truly awake.

Chan's heart swelled with gratitude, his hand still cradling Minho's head, while Hyunjin's anxious demeanour melted into a smile.

Felix squeezed Minho's hand tighter, his voice a gentle whisper of encouragement, and Seungmin's brow unfurrowed as he leaned in, ready to offer support.

Minho blinked a few times, the world around him slowly coming into focus, but the disorientation lingered like a fog in his mind.

Chan's hand instinctively moved to Minho's shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze, while Jisung leaned in closer, his voice a soothing as always.

"Hey, you’re okay, Minho. Just breathe," he urged, his eyes wide with worry yet filled with warmth.

Minho blinked again , trying to shake off the fog that clouded his mind, and as he focused on Chan's reassuring smile, he felt a wave of comfort wash over him. The world around him began to come into focus, the worried faces of his friends grounding him in reality.

With a deep breath, Minho finally pushed himself up, resting against Chan for support. The warmth of his friend enveloped him, and he could feel the tension in the room begin to dissipate. Jisung's hand found its way to Minho's back, rubbing small circles as he continued to murmur comforting words.

"You scared us, you know," he said, a hint of playfullness in his tone, but the underlying concern was unmistakable. Minho managed a weak smile, grateful for all around him. 

yet he would NEVER dare admit that..

Despite their pleas, chan and jisung reassured the other five members eventually that minho would be fine after resting at home. So, the eldest and the quokka managed to get minho into a company car and home. 

With gentle determination, Chan and Jisung exchanged knowing glances as they entered the dorm, silently agreeing to help the clearly still fatigued male settle down.

They guided him toward his room, their movements synchronised.

Jisung, ever the playful one, cracked a joke to lighten the mood, eliciting a soft chuckle from Minho, who appreciated the effort despite his tiredness. Chan, with his nurturing nature, helped Minho out of his shoes, his touch gentle yet firm, ensuring that the younger felt supported.

The room was dimly lit, perfect for rest.

Once Minho was settled into bed, Chan tucked the covers around him with a tender care. Jisung perched on the edge, his eyes filled with concern and affection as he made sure Minho was comfortable. They shared a moment of quiet, the kind that spoke of unwavering support. As Minho’s eyelids grew heavy, he felt a wave of gratefulness. 

its okay to feel 'weak'. 

Chapter Text

The world seemed to rest heavily on Seungmin's shoulders as he navigated the insane stress of their relentless tour schedule.

Each day blurred into the next, filled with rehearsals, interviews, and performances that left little room for rest. The once vibrant spark in his eyes had dulled, replaced by a weariness that clung to him like a second skin. Yet, despite this extreme overwhelming dread, he tried his hardest to keep this 'temporary problem' to himself. He didnt want to worry his members, let alone any fans.

He could feel the tension coiling in his muscles, a tightness that refused to ease, and the constant hum of anxiety in his mind made it difficult to focus on anything other than the next task at hand. The pressure to perform, to meet the expectations of fans and their managers alike, weighed on him, and he found himself questioning if he could keep up with the demands that seemed to multiply by the hour.

That morning, just before their alarms even had the chance to blare, Seungmin awoke to an unwelcome sensation. Unwelcome yet unfortunately now familiar. These nosebleeds had been a common occurrence over the last few weeks. 

He reached up to touch his nose, only to find it slick with crimson—a nosebleed that had come out of nowhere, a stark reminder of how his body was taking the impact of his stress. Panic surged through him for a moment, but he quickly wiped it away, not wanting to alarm the others - especially hyeonjin who was asleep merely 5 feet away. A quick trip to the bathroom, alongside a nice warm shower would surely make him feel better.. right? 

As they gathered their belongings and prepared to leave for the airport, he forced a smile, masking the fatigue that threatened to spill over.

His heart raced, not just from the rush of the morning but from the exhaustion that had settled deep within him. He could feel the heaviness in his limbs, the way his eyelids drooped as if they were weighted down by invisible chains, and the dull ache in his head that pulsed with every heartbeat.

''minnie-yah, are you ok?'' a clearly concerned minho asked from beside the zoned out male, causing seungmins head to shoot up and face towards the elder. 

''hm? oh yeah im fine hyeong, just a bit tired'' 

''okay.. just try and hold it off till we get onto the plane okay?'' a sweet smile from the elder, followed by a pat on the back. 

seungmin just gave a tired nod in response before collecting his bag from beside the front door and moving out of the doorway and into the company van. 

As they made their way into the airport, Seungmin found himself lagging behind, attention drifting while his limbs felt heavy as lead.

He tried to maintain a mask of solidarity with his band mates, but each breath seemed to require extra effort; he could feel the dryness clawing at his throat, and his head swam dizzily at the edges of his perception.

boy he was glad he was wearing a black beanie and a mask..

He kept swallowing against the discomfort, forcing nods at his other members when they would pick up on his odd quietness. Shuffling through the terminal, he couldn’t shake the feeling of disconnect that settled on him like a thick fog, the vibrant atmosphere of travel starkly contrasting the shadows of fatigue that clung to him.

But, eventually, when the bustling airport faded behind them, the members of Stray Kids finally boarded the plane, a wave of excitement washing over the majority of them.

The cabin was a blend of soft blues and grays, the hum of the engines a comforting backdrop to their chatter.

Seungmin, feeling a mix of anticipation and unease, found his way down the narrow aisle, his heart racing with the thrill of fatigue instead of the normal thrill and excitement that came hand in hand with flying.

He settled into his seat beside Hyunjin, who was already adjusting his headphones, a playful smile lighting up his face as he glanced over at Seungmin.

Hyunjin, ever perceptive, noticed the subtle shift in Seungmin’s demeanour.

“Hey, is everything okay?” he asked, his voice low and laced with concern.

Seungmin’s gaze flickered away, focusing instead on the window, where the last rays of sunlight painted the sky in hues of orange and pink.

He felt the weight of Hyunjin’s gaze, the warmth of his concern wrapping around him.

But instead of voicing his worries, Seungmin offered a half-hearted smile, deflecting the question with a casual shrug.

“Yeah, just a bit tired,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper, the truth lingering unspoken between them.

Hyunjin, sensing the tension but unwilling to push further, decided to take matters into his own hands.

With a gentle nudge, he leaned closer, his voice softening. “You should take a nap, you know. We have a long flight ahead.”

Seungmin felt a rush of appreciation mixed with reluctance, but the warmth in Hyunjin’s tone was soothing. He leaned back in his seat, allowing his eyes to flutter shut, the rhythmic sound of the plane’s engines lulling him into a state of calm when they finally began to take off.

As he drifted off, he could feel Hyunjin’s presence beside him, and for the first time in a while, Seungmin allowed himself to let go of his worries, surrendering to some very well needed sleep. 

4 hours into the 16 hour flight, hyunjin sat painting beside the sleeping male next to him, humming quietly to some music from his headphones as he worked on his art. He was blissfully unaware of the younger males discomfort.. 

In the depths of his subconscious, seungmin found himself trapped in a dark, suffocating void, where shadows twisted and morphed into grotesque figures that loomed over him. Their hollow eyes glinted with malice, and their whispers echoed like a haunting melody, taunting him with his deepest fears.

The sensation of being pursued gripped him tightly, a vice around his chest that made it hard to breathe. Just as he thought he could escape, the ground beneath him crumbled away, plunging him into an endless fall, the terror of the unknown consuming him whole.

As the nightmare intensified, Seungmin's body reacted violently, his limbs thrashing slightly, as if someone was holding them down thanks to how tense they were, against the confines of his seat. 

He felt an invisible weight pressing down on him, rendering him immobile, a twist of fate that left him in a state of sleep paralysis.

His heart raced, pounding against his ribcage like a drum, while the shadows from his dream seeped into reality, leaving seungmin unable to define between what was real and what was merely a figment of his disgusting imagination.

The sweat dripped down his forehead, pooling at his temples, as he fought against the invisible chains that bound him, desperate to break free from the nightmare, but it was no use.. 

The sight sent a jolt of panic through hyunjin; Seungmin had been feeling unwell for days, all of them could see it, but Hyunjin and the others had brushed it off, thinking it was just a passing cold.

Now, however, the way Seungmin's brow furrowed in distress and his laboured breathing echoed in the silence made Hyunjin's stomach twist with worry.

He could no longer ignore the signs; something was wrong, and he needed to act quickly.

With a sense of urgency, Hyunjin reached for his phone, his fingers trembling slightly as he text changbin, who was only a few rows back, about what was going on. 

Finally, Changbin's voice broke through the silence, and Hyunjin wasted no time in explaining the situation.

''jin-ah, whats going on?''

"hyeong, Seungmin... he’s not waking up, and he’s sweating so much. I think something’s really wrong."

The words tumbled out in a rush, his voice laced with desperation. 

Hyunjin knelt on his seat beside Seungmin, gently shaking his shoulder, whispering his name in a soft, soothing tone - directly contradicting the insane panic lacing through him currently. 

"Seungmin, wake up. Please, you need to wake up." He brushed a damp strand of hair from Seungmin's forehead, feeling the heat radiating from his skin.

"We need to cool him down," Changbin said, his voice steady as he knelt infront of seungmin, rubbing his arm gently. 

hyunjin didnt waste an extra second in grabbing one of the cold water bottles from his cup holder, placing it against seungmins neck. 

His body felt heavy, as if weighed down by an invisible force, and a wave of nausea washed over him, churning in his stomach like a stormy sea.

He blinked rapidly, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep paralysis that had gripped him moments before, leaving him unable to move or call out for help.

The world around him felt surreal, the hum of the plane's engines blending with the distant chatter of passengers, but all he could focus on was the overwhelming sense of dread that clung to him like a shadow.

Each breath he took was shallow and he could just about feel the other two members around him. 

A few rows ahead, Chan and Lee Know had been engaged in a quiet conversation when the sudden sound of changbins and hyunjins panicked familar voices caught onto them. 

Without a second thought, they pushed past the other passengers, weaving through the narrow aisle with worry until they finally reached the shared row of hyunjin and seungmin. 

As they reached Seungmin's side, Chan knelt down, his expression a mix of concern and determination.

"Seungmin, hey, it's okay. You're safe," he said softly, his voice steady and reassuring.

Minho hovered close, his brow furrowed in worry as he placed a comforting hand on Seungmin's shoulder, grounding him in the moment a lot better than hyunjin and changbin were trying to..

Chan's presence was a calming force, and he instinctively reached out, wrapping an arm around Seungmin's shoulders, pulling him close.

The warmth radiating from Chan enveloped Seungmin, a protective cuddle that began to ease the lingering anxiety that clung to him.

Seungmin leaned into Chan's embrace, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against his ear, a soothing reminder that he was safe.

The gentle pressure of Chan's arm around him felt like a lifeline..

Chan whispered soft reassurances, his voice sweet, washing over Seungmin, urging him to let go of the fear that had gripped him moments before.

Chapter Text

hi everyone!
thank you all so much for any kudos left, it means so much to me to know that you guys enjoy my work so far :)

I do apologise for no recent updates however, I am truly trying, but doing alevels (year 13) is absolutely draining but I'm trying my best :)

with that being said, I'm going to try and become more active as I find writing a brilliant way to destress.

alongside that, it would be great if you guys passing through could leave some requests or even feedback in the comments just so I have some idea of what to write next!

upcoming (maybe?) ideas so far
1) jeongin centred - photosensitive epilepsy
2) felix centred - low blood sugar
3) minho centred - drowning

please let me know in the comments!

have a great day / night :)

Chapter Text

The Sydney coastline stretched out endlessly in front of them, an endless expanse of blue water meeting a cloudless sky. The air was warm, tinged with the salty tang of the sea, and waves crashing against the shore seemed to invite the members of Stray Kids into the water.

The scene felt almost surreal, like something out of a vacation brochure. The members had finally gotten a break—away from the pressures of filming and rehearsals—and now they had a few precious hours to relax and just enjoy the beauty of their surroundings.

The beach was alive with their voices, the playful laughter of Felix echoing in the air as he splashed around in the shallows - finally feeling at home. Changbin was already far out, diving beneath the waves, his powerful strokes cutting through the water. Han, Seungmin, and Chan were nearby, testing the water's temperature, and the sound of their lighthearted conversation drifted across the sand. Meanwhile, Hyunjin was laid out starfish style on the sand beside Jeongin who was simply enjoying the rays of the sun - both were far too tired to go out and swim like the rest. 

Minho, however, remained at the edge of the water, his feet skimming the wet sand, looking out toward the vast ocean. He had always been the one to hang back when it came to water activities. The others knew this. His fear of deep water was no secret. Minho had grown up surrounded by water, but his fear had always lingered—an irrational sense of helplessness that gripped him whenever he ventured out too far. He’d tried to push it down over the years, but it was hard to ignore the way his chest tightened at the thought of drifting too far into the deep unknown, where the water held no bottom and the waves could easily pull him under. Even though Chan and Felix had grown up surrounded by the ocean and swimming, even competitively, Minho just couldn't fathom how they weren't scared of the deep water like him. 

The rest of the members knew about Minho’s fear. It wasn’t something he openly talked about around the cameras or their crew, but it was evident in the way his eyes would always scan the water warily before stepping in. They’d all seen it before—his hesitation, his careful steps, the tension that ran through his body. Felix, especially, had noticed it more than anyone, and he often teased Minho about it in an attempt to get him to join in, but it was clear that Minho never really felt at ease in the water.

Today, though, he had made a quiet promise to himself. He wouldn’t back down. It was something small, a victory he could claim. As the others continued to play, Minho finally took a deep breath and waded into the shallow end, just enough to get his feet wet. His eyes flitted nervously to Felix, who was already waist-deep, waiting for him to take the plunge.

“Come on, hyung! You can do it!” Felix shouted, his voice cheerful, completely unaware of the swirl of anxiety building in Minho’s chest.

Minho hesitated, biting his lip. "I’m fine here," he said with a forced smile, but Felix wasn’t buying it.

“Just a little deeper,” Felix urged, stepping closer to Minho. “You’re gonna love it once you get used to it.”

Minho felt his breath catch in his throat. 'Get used to it', he thought. The water wasn’t just cold—it was vast, stretching out endlessly. But he was determined to push through it. He didn’t want to be the one who stayed behind. With a deep, steadying breath, he took another step forward, allowing the cool water to rise to his knees, then his waist.

“You’re doing great, hyung!” Felix cheered.

Minho’s heart was pounding in his chest. The deeper he went, the more his anxiety intensified. 'It’s okay,' he reassured himself. 'Just a little further. You promised you’d try' He managed a small nod as he looked out at the water, allowing himself to feel the rush of the waves around him. But the thought of drifting further into the deeper parts made his stomach churn. The water out there seemed so infinite, so powerful. He didn’t know if he was ready.

“Alright, I’m gonna go grab some food. You’ll be fine, right?” Han called out, breaking into Minho’s thoughts. He gave Minho an encouraging smile, and the others nodded in agreement.

“I’m okay,” Minho said quickly, though his voice lacked the usual confidence. He didn’t want to admit how unsettled he felt. “I’ll just stay here for a bit. You guys go ahead and grab food. I’ll catch up later.”

Felix, looking concerned, hesitated, but Minho reassured him with a slight, strained smile. “Really, I’ll be fine. Just need to get used to the water first.” 

With a final look over his shoulder, Felix and the others agreed to head off for food, leaving Minho alone by the water.

The moment the others left to grab food, Minho allowed himself a few minutes of solitude. He stood in the water, feeling its cool embrace against his pale skin, trying to calm the churning anxiety in his chest.

'I promised' he reminded himself. 'I promised I’d get used to this.'

He took a few steps deeper into the water, feeling the waves pull gently at his legs, the current swirling around him. His heart was still racing, but he told himself to breathe, to calm down. He needed to get over this fear. He didnt want to feel like a child around his members, he was supposed to be one of the oldest, not a baby. 

But as he waded further, the waves seemed to grow stronger. The ground beneath his feet started to disappear, and the moment he realized he was no longer standing on solid sand, panic gripped him like a vice. so much for staying calm..

His feet couldn’t touch the ground. He was floating now, the water surrounding him, pulling at him.

The depth of the ocean felt suffocating, and his chest tightened with the familiar feeling of being out of control. The waves hit him harder now, as though the sea itself was trying to drag him under.

Minho gasped for air, his breath shallow and quick. 'No. No, this isn’t happening. You can swim, just stay calm' he thought, his heart hammering in his chest.

But the more he struggled, the deeper he sank. His legs kicked, but the water seemed to drag him farther, further into the deeper current, away from the shore and away from his lifelines - his members. How could he have been so stupid? Why try to make himself look 'cool'? Why try to impress the members? 

His panic grew with each failed attempt to find the ground beneath him. The surface of the water was just out of reach, and his head kept slipping beneath the waves. His arms flailed in desperation, but the more he fought, the more the ocean seemed to consume him. 

His mind screamed for help, trying to get his mouth to reciprocate those thoughts but his body couldn’t respond. His limbs felt like they were made of lead, slow and uncooperative. His chest burned as he tried to take in air, but the ocean filled his lungs instead, salty and suffocating.

His vision began to blur, and the world seemed to spin around him. 

Changbin had barely reached the sand with the members when he heard a faint splash. His instincts screamed at him to turn around. Something was wrong. He spun on his heel, his eyes immediately landing on Minho, who was thrashing in the water. 

“Minho-hyung!” he shouted, his heart lurching in his chest as he saw Minho struggle, his head bobbing beneath the surface.

Minho wasn’t moving right. It wasn’t just the waves. He was flailing, his arms weakly trying to keep himself afloat. Without hesitation, Changbin dashed back into the water, his legs pumping through the waves as he pushed himself toward Minho with all the strength he had. 

As he reached Minho, he grabbed him, pulling his body toward him. Minho’s eyes were wide with fear, starting to flutter shut, and his body was limp, his strength completely gone. Changbin’s mind raced. He fought against the current, every stroke more desperate than the last. The shore felt miles away, but he couldn’t stop. Minho was practically lifeless in his arms, barely able to keep his head above water. 

Finally, Changbin’s feet hit the sand, and with every ounce of strength left, he dragged Minho out of the water and onto the beach. He fell to his knees, feeling Minho’s cold body against him. His breath was laboured, but there was no time to rest. Minho wasn’t moving. Changbin shook him, checking for a pulse.

Minho’s lips were blue, his skin cold to the touch. His pulse was faint, but it was there. Changbin’s hands shook as he pulled Minho closer, trying to warm him up. “Min-hyung, stay with me,” Changbin pleaded, his voice trembling. But Minho didn’t respond.

Suddenly, Minho’s body jerked violently in Changbin’s arms. Changbin’s breath caught in his throat as Minho began to convulse, his body seizing uncontrollably. His back arched, his limbs stiffened, and Changbin could do nothing but hold on. Minho’s world was chaos. His body jerked in spasms, his limbs moving involuntarily as though they weren’t his own. His mouth opened in a silent scream, but the only sound that escaped was harsh choking noises. Changbin could see the elder was in pain, he could hear it.. Minho's chest tightened painfully as he fought to breathe, but the air wouldn’t come. He couldn’t make sense of anything. His body was a prisoner to the violent movements. 

It felt like the ocean was inside of him, swirling in his lungs, choking him, taking away his breath. His vision was a blur of light and dark. The world around him felt distant, out of reach. The seizure felt endless, and he couldn’t escape the pain, the panic, the overwhelming fear.

The others had just started walking back from the food when they saw Changbin with Minho, his hands desperately working to revive him. Felix’s breath hitched in his throat. “Hyung!” he screamed, but his voice felt too far away.

Seungmin quickly called for the crew’s medics as the members ran toward Changbin. Chan’s face was pale with worry. “Minho, please,” he whispered under his breath. Jisung was held back by hyunjin and moved away from the scene completely. They all knew ji couldn't handle such things. Even jeongin, one with normally being calm and collected, was held back by hyunjin and felix. The elder's of the maknae line doing all in their power to keep the youngests from watching the scene or getting too close. 

The medics arrived within moments, quickly assessing Minho’s condition. They worked swiftly, administering oxygen and checking his vitals. The seizure eventually subsided, but Minho remained unresponsive, his breaths shallow and faint.

All they could do was pray it would be okay..

Minho was carefully carried inside the cabin, his body wrapped in a thick blanket to warm him. The medics continued to check him over, making sure there was no lasting damage. His lips were still pale, and his body trembled from the cold, but he was breathing, albeit shallowly. The medics kept a close eye on him as the members hovered around, their faces etched with worry. Changbin stayed by Minho’s side as they sat him on the couch, his hand gently resting on the older’s shoulder as he breathed a quiet sigh of relief. His heart still raced from the panic he had felt on the beach. Felix was next to them, his voice barely a whisper.

“I didn’t... I didn’t know it would be that bad, hyung,” Felix said, his eyes wide with worry.

Minho looked towards Felix slowly, blinking a few times as he took in the familiar faces around him. His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper, thanks to the oxygen mask on his face, as he spoke. “I’m... sorry. I didn’t mean to scare anyone.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Changbin said softly, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “The important thing is you’re here. You’re safe now.”

Chan gently brushed a strand of wet hair away from Minho’s forehead. “You scared us,” he said, his voice quiet. “But we’re just glad you’re alright.”

Minho offered them a weak, relieved smile, feeling the warmth of their care wash over him. The fear, the anxiety that had nearly overwhelmed him, now seemed distant. It was like the ocean had tried to swallow him whole, but here, surrounded by his brothers, he felt a sense of reassurance - despite how absolutely exhausted he was. 

The night had passed quietly, with the sounds of the ocean gently crashing against the shore filling the silence. The cabin was calm now, the members all having settled into a well-earned rest after the day's events.

The warmth of the room contrasted sharply with the chill of the water that Minho had been pulled from earlier. His body was finally dry, wrapped in blankets, and nestled in a makeshift bed on the couch. The medics had checked on him multiple times, making sure there were no lasting effects from the scare. Minho had assured them he was fine, just exhausted and shaken, and was allowed to rest.

But sleep, it seemed, was elusive.

Minho stirred in his sleep, his body tense even as his breathing slowed. The dream crept in, a suffocating force. He was back in the water, but this time, it wasn’t the calm, shallow waves. It was deep, endless, a void that seemed to stretch forever. The waves were high now, crashing violently against him, pulling at him, dragging him under with relentless force. He tried to scream, but no sound escaped his lips. His limbs were weak, unresponsive, and the water filled his lungs with a painful, burning pressure. 

His heart was pounding in his chest as he tried to kick, to swim, to do anything—but it was no use. He was sinking deeper into the abyss, unable to breathe, unable to escape. 

The darkness closed in, and the more he struggled, the more it consumed him. The world around him spun, his thoughts jumbled, and just as he thought he couldn’t take it anymore, a wave crashed over him, pulling him under completely.

Minho’s body jerked awake, his breaths coming in sharp, frantic gasps. The room around him was dark, unfamiliar in the way that only the deep shadows of night could be. He sat up abruptly, his heart racing in his chest as the remnants of the nightmare clung to him. 'No, no, no… it wasn’t real… it wasn’t real.' His mind screamed, but his body didn’t listen. 

His hands shook uncontrollably as he gripped the blanket around him, his vision swimming as he tried to calm his breathing. His chest felt tight, as though it was still caught in the vice of water he had felt only hours ago. He wiped at his face, desperate to shake off the terror that still gripped him. His fresh clothes consisting of grey joggers and a white shirt clung to him from the sweat.

The room seemed to spin. His pulse thundered in his ears, and his breathing grew more shallow. He couldn’t focus. The edges of the room blurred, the nightmare’s grip still lingering in his chest. Panic threatened to overwhelm him, and Minho's hands were trembling as he tried to steady himself.

“Minho?” A voice cut through the chaos of his mind, soft and gentle. It was jisung, his voice laced with concern as he stirred beside him. But before Minho could respond, a hand was on his shoulder, warm and steady. He turned, eyes wide with panic, and found Jisung sitting next to him, his face calm but filled with quiet worry.

"Hyung, it’s okay," Jisung murmured softly, his voice a quiet anchor. Minho's breathing was still shallow, and his body felt like it was on the edge of hyperventilating. He was struggling to ground himself, his chest tight with fear. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, drowning out everything else. Jisung didn't hesitate. He carefully took Minho's hands, pulling them away from his face. “Hey, look at me,” he said softly but firmly, his gaze locking onto Minho’s. “You’re okay. You’re safe.”

Minho’s eyes were wide and glassy as he tried to make sense of what was happening. He tried to tell himself it wasn't real, that the memories from today couldnt effect him aymore, but his body still felt like it was drowning, as if the sea was still inside him. The terror from the dream was bleeding into his reality, and it was suffocating him. Jisung gently cupped Minho’s face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over his cheeks. “You’re not in the water anymore. You’re here, with us. You’re safe. Just breathe, okay? Focus on me.”

Minho’s hands were still trembling, but as Jisung’s voice wrapped around him, something in him began to calm. Jisung’s gaze was soft but unwavering, a steady presence. Slowly, Minho forced himself to take a deep breath, then another, and another. He could feel his pulse beginning to slow, his breath evening out, though the fear still lingered like a tight knot in his chest. Jisung kept his hands steady on Minho’s shoulders, his voice a quiet whisper in the dark. “You’re okay, Min-hyung. We’re all here. I’m here.” Minho's hands stopped shaking, and for the first time since waking, he looked at Jisung—really looked at him—and saw nothing but understanding in his eyes. He felt the pressure in his chest begin to ease, and the panic, while not entirely gone, started to loosen its grip.

“I-I couldn’t breathe,” Minho whispered hoarsely, his voice trembling. His heart still hadn’t settled, but Jisung’s presence seemed to calm the chaos inside him. “I thought I was drowning again.”

“You’re not,” Jisung replied gently. He shifted so that he was sitting closer to Minho on the couch, one hand holding onto one of Minho's while the other rubbed his back slowly in soothing circles “It was just a nightmare, hyung. Just a nightmare. You’re safe now.” Minho swallowed hard, his eyes still wide with the echoes of fear. “I don’t want to go through that again,” he confessed quietly, his voice barely a whisper.

“You don’t have to,” Jisung said with quiet conviction. “We’re here, hyung. You won’t be alone. Not now, not ever.” The warmth of Jisung's words, the softness of his touch, gradually pulled Minho back to reality. His heart was still thudding in his chest, but it was no longer as erratic. Minho closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the tension slowly leaving his body, piece by piece.

“I’m sorry,” Minho muttered, embarrassed by how fragile he felt. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Jisung shook his head, his smile soft. “Don’t apologize. You’re my hyung, and I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to apologize for feeling scared.” For a moment, there was silence, the only sound was the quiet hum of the air conditioning in the room. Minho felt himself slowly relaxing, his pulse returning to normal as Jisung continued to sit by his side, his hand never leaving Minho’s back. 

“I’m here,” Jisung repeated softly, his voice full of reassurance. Minho nodded, his eyes closing once more as the panic that had gripped him began to dissolve. The nightmare, the fear, all felt like distant memories now. Slowly, Jisung helped him lie back down on the couch, pulling the blanket up over him to keep him warm. He stayed close, just enough to be a constant, grounding presence.

“Sleep, hyung,” Jisung whispered. “I’ve got you.”

Minho exhaled deeply, his body finally relaxing against the couch, the familiar weight of exhaustion pulling him back toward sleep. As he drifted off, the remnants of the nightmare still flickered at the edges of his consciousness, but this time, it was different. He wasn’t alone anymore. Jisung was there, reminding him that he was okay - safe.

“Thank you,” Minho mumbled softly, his voice barely audible. 

Jisung smiled softly, watching as Minho’s breathing became even once more. "Always, hyung," he whispered, his hand gently brushing Minho’s hair as he settled with laying down next to him. He draped his free arm around Minhos waist, holding it lightly as his free hand continued its slow brushing of the elders hair. 

And just like that, the two were fast asleep, peaceful in each others arms. For once, Minho let himself be vulnerable, letting jisung hold him until morning. Even when he woke up before Jisung that next morning, he stayed still after burying his face in jisung's neck - enjoying the younger soothing hold as he listened to jisungs quiet breathing.