Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There were fireworks under his skin, making him bounce his foot almost violently under his desk. Changbin glanced over at him, but didn’t say anything.

Changbin and Jisung knew that sometimes Chan got like this, but they had yet to find a way to help the older boy properly. Chan started tapping his pen in time with his foot, his eyes flitting from left to right, trying to find where in the music there was a problem, as if it were computer coding and he could simply see the mistake in the zeros and ones. Instead he just saw notes and audio boxes and no visible mistakes for him to fix.

“Chan hyung, let’s get dinner,” Changbin said, noticing how Chan’s pen-tapping had started getting irregular. At the sound of his voice, Chan jumped a little.

“It’s almost nine.”

“What?” Chan blinked, as if he had been somewhere else entirely. He looked around the recording studio for a moment and noticed Jisung still in the booth, looking out at the two older boys with wide, waiting eyes. The headphones were being held up against one ear, listening in on what was being said through the microphone.

“We’ve been working for a few hours now,” Changbin reiterated. “I know you wanted to finish this before going back to the dorms, but we should take a break to eat.”

“Oh,” Chan blinked, coming back to the present. “Yeah, sure.”

Jisung hung the headphones up and stepped out of the booth, glancing between Chan and Changbin. Changbin shook his head minutely, not wanting to bring it up just yet. In the past, when they tried to approach Chan about his erratic behavior, it was always brushed off as quickly and as efficiently as possible.

The others had noticed too, but no one knew how to bring it up to their leader. Chan did everything to put the other boys first, and they quickly realized there was nothing they could really do to stop him. When they ate, Chan made sure everyone took a bite before he did, even though he was the oldest. When someone wasn’t feeling well, Chan dropped what he was doing to make them feel better, but never showed when he himself wasn’t feeling well. Chan would stay up when someone couldn’t sleep, talking to them until they finally drifted off before allowing himself to rest.

They noticed Chan struggling, but what could they do? They tried to talk to him about it, but it was always met with smiles and head pats and ‘what did I do to deserve members like you?’ but never any real answers. Never any real progress.

The closest any of them had gotten to a confession was when Minho had effectively cornered the elder in the hallway, and even then all he got was a ‘I’m just really tired.’

Minho could tell it was more than just needing more sleep, and it scared him to his very core.

“What are you guys in the mood for?” Chan asked. He was talking just a hair too quickly and the other two noticed. “Hyung is paying, so don’t hold back.”

“Mm, what about ramyeon?” Jisung suggested. Chan grinned and tugged his hoodie on, fiddling mindlessly with the strings. The left one was chewed up, but he barely remembered actually doing it.

“Sounds good!” He shifted from foot to foot as he waited for Changbin and Jisung to get ready to leave. He could feel himself falling a little off balance but managed to catch himself before it was obvious - or at least, he thought he caught himself before anyone noticed.

Jisung grinned back, ignoring the look Changbin sent him. They both knew Chan hadn’t eaten that day - not only because they had been with Chan the entire time, but because Chan always swayed a little when his blood sugar was too low. When he got fidgety like this, he tended to eat and sleep even less than usual. He tended to be more reckless, caring about his own safety less and less. It was terrifying to watch.

Both Jisung and Changbin knew ramyeon was something Chan would mindlessly eat, which meant the odds of the older boy actually eating at all were higher.

Chan checked his emails as they walked to the elevator, looking for news from the uppers of the company to see if they had approved his idea yet or not. He wasn’t anxious, but he was checking his phone every five minutes - just in case.

Jisung and Changbin held back some, just far enough for them to talk without being heard.

“It’s getting bad again.” Jisung muttered, watching Chan mess with his hair as he walked.

“Do you think we should...” Changbin trailed off, uncertain.

“He’d just brush us off like usual,” the youngest just sighed. “Which kinda pisses me off, but I get it, I guess. He wants to be strong for us.”

“Idiot,” Changbin sounded sad. “He doesn't have to keep doing this to himself.”

“We just have to keep an eye on him.” Jisung said, ending the conversation as he dashed forward to catch the elevator doors, which had been about to close on Chan, who had stopped in the doorway of the car.

“Any word on the project?” Changbin asked, once they were safely in the elevator and no one was in danger of being gently squeezed by the doors.

“Not yet,” Chan grinned, but it was tight. “That’s okay though! This just gives us more time to work out the kinks. The next time we present it, they’ll have to approve!”

“Mm.” Changbin hummed, but Chan had already gone back to his phone, the elder worrying his lip in a way that told the younger two he wasn’t doing it on purpose.

The ride down to the first floor seemed to take forever, and with each passing second Chan seemed to get more agitated. He leaned against the handrail, letting his foot bounce under him again. It shook the car slightly. The younger two noticed how, as Chan typed, he was backspacing more than usual, which meant he was making more spelling errors.

Maybe it was because his hands were shaking, but no one mentioned that. No one wanted to make the older boy have to lie to cover it up, because they knew that was what he would do, no questions about it.
Changbin and Jisung silently looked at each other again, neither saying a word as they descended towards the ground floor.

Chan was trying to type a text to their manager, letting him know they were going to get dinner out and that they probably wouldn’t be back until late, but for some reason his fingers weren’t listening to him. He looked at all the typos and the wrong words his phone tried to autocorrect to with frustration. Why was he like this?

He didn’t know why he got into moods like this. Sometimes he was so depressed he couldn’t get out of bed, and sometimes he was like this - so energetic that he felt as though he would throw up if he stopped moving - but most of the time he felt fine.

Well not FINE, but not like this. Most of the time he was... alright. He could still feel the stress pressing down on him, and still had issues sleeping. He still felt the world crushing him during the early hours of the morning, when he had to stifle his cries so no one found out he was still awake. He could still feel the itch on his leg, begging him to give him, but most of the time he could ignore it.

It was only when he felt like he was filled with sparklers that he was really tempted to do something stupid - not like he didn’t already do stupid things when he was like this. He would see how long he could go without sleep - he knew he could go a while, but he wanted to push it a little more. He wanted to see how long he could go without eating, not because he hated his body and wanted to starve, but because he wanted to see how far he could go - how far he could push himself before he collapsed. It was a challenge, or a game that he couldn’t back away from. At least, not when he was like... this.

Chan sighed and slipped his phone into his pocket. There was no point going through his apps at that moment, because he was more likely to drop the device than actually get anything done. His fingers drummed along his thigh, over the almost invisible silver lines that decorated his skin. The others knew, he was sure of it, but no one had brought it up. No one had mentioned the scars, or the way Chan seemed to fall into depressive episodes where he couldn’t breathe without tearing up, or the way Chan would act like he shot caffeine straight into his veins. He knew they noticed, but no one said anything outright. He didn’t know if he was grateful, or disappointed.

“Hyung, come on.”

Chan looked up and saw Jisung holding the elevator doors open. They were at the lobby, and the other two boys had already exited the elevator. Chan grinned and ducked past the youngest of the three.

“Did either of you have a place in mind?” He asked as they exited the company building, tugging facemasks up and hats down. It was more of a habit at this point, to hide themselves just for the chance to walk the streets normally.

“We could go to Ajumma’s shop,” Jisung suggested, perking up. “If that back room is open, we don’t have to worry about being seen.”

There was an older woman who had a small shop near the company building that had a few tables in the main restaurant area, and a separate dining room with a single, medium sized table for private parties. The woman, knowing she was in an area with many entertainment companies, mainly used that back room for idols that needed a break from the real world. Her shop was a favorite amongst the JYP staff.

“Mm, she makes the best spicy cucumbers.” Changbin nodded, almost dreamily.

Chan grinned and gestured for the other two to lead the way. He always walked behind his members, for several reasons. He wanted to make sure no one got lost or left behind, but also because he could see them all at once, and if something were to happen to one of them, it would most likely happen to him because he was in the back. Their safety was his top priority, even above their music and their fans. Even above himself.

The shop came into view and Chan had the sudden realization that he might not be able to sit still for a meal. His hands shook as though they wanted to run away on their own - would the other two notice how hard it will be for him to hold his chopsticks? Would they notice how he’ll end up playing with his food more than actually eating it, because he was fifteen hours into not eating and wanted to know how much longer he could go before needing to give in - not to hurt himself, but because he wanted to test himself. He wanted to push his limits because he COULD. Because no one else would push him like this except himself.

“Welcome!” The Ajumma smiled brightly as the three boys pushed their way through the door, the small bell announcing their presence. “Ah, it’s been so long! How have you three been? How are the others?”

“We’re good, Ajumma,” Jisung grinned back, not flinching away when she patted the top of his head like a doting grandmother. “Everyone else went back to the dorms already. We’re just getting some food before going back to work though.”

“You boys work too hard,” She frowned, the faint lines on her face becoming a little more visible. “If you keep pushing yourselves like this, you’re going to collapse!”

“Don’t worry Ajumma,” Changbin chuckled lightly. “Channie hyung makes sure we take care of ourselves. After what happened with Lix, we’ve been extra careful.”

Chan flinched. It was a year and a half ago, give or take a few months. Felix had been pushing himself harder and harder to perfect the choreography, not just for Stray Kids, but for his own dances as well. He wanted to contribute to future songs, so he had been working on creating his own combinations to show to their choreographer. Chan, however, was in one of those moods where he could barely get himself dressed. He hadn’t noticed the passage of time for days on end, and only realized he had been staring blankly at this computer screen for two consecutive hours without making a single change to the song in front of him when he started crying from the strain on his eyes.

He had passed by the practice room at three in the morning, surprised to still see the light on. Even the custodians were gone by that point in the night, only a few security guards and idiots like himself stayed at the company this late. Curious, he poked his head in to see who it was.

He would never forget the sight of Felix, crumpled in a heap on the floor, nor the sight of the smaller boy in the hospital bed, hooked up to IVs and machines. He had overworked himself, and just needed some rest and food. He was fine, in the end, but Chan never forgot that night, and he never forgave himself.

If he had been less of a shitty person - less of a failure of a leader - he would have noticed Felix pushing himself and told the younger boy to rest. But he didn’t. Because Chan was a bad person.

“Well, that’s good to hear at least,” There was a tone of relief in the woman’s voice that made Chan’s chest ache. This woman, who they only talked to when they came to eat, cared so much about them. “Come! Sit, I’ll bring you some food. You boys never eat enough!”

“Thank you!” Jisung chirped as they made their way to the back room. They went to the shop often enough that she knew their orders, which made moments like this more bearable for Chan. He knew if he tried to speak, the words would all come out in a rush and she would have to ask him to repeat himself, which would be just enough to push him over the edge.

Jisung and Changbin took their usual seats, next to each other on one side of the rectangular table. Chan sat across from them, alone. That was just how they always ended up sitting when the three of them went out together. Chan never really thought about it much - or rather, he tried not to let himself think about it.

Because if he thought about it, he would spiral, and the fireworks inside of him would turn into a wildfire and he would burn up in it. He tapped his leg restlessly, wishing they were sitting in actual chairs rather than sitting cross legged at the low table. He wanted to bounce his leg to release some of the electricity flowing through him, but he couldn’t, so he tapped and he bounced along to the song playing in his head.

It wasn’t even a whole song. It was the fragment of the song he was working on that never seemed to sound right, no matter what he did. It played on loop, always cutting off right before it got to the point he was actually proud of, reminding him of his failures with each and every iteration. It helped a little bit, moving to the beat of the song, tapping the tabletop as if it were his piano, but it wasn’t enough. He could feel the pressure building in his chest - he wanted to go to the gym and run on the treadmill until his legs collapsed. He wanted to lift weights until his arms gave out. He wanted to do something to use up all the electricity buzzing through his blood that made it impossible for him to sit still.

“Hyung?” Changbin’s voice broke Chan from his thoughts. Looking down, Chan saw a bowl sitting in front of him, the steam hitting his face and collecting on his skin. It smelled fantastic, and Chan didn’t realize how hungry he was until his stomach started cramping. He grabbed his chopsticks and dug in, not caring that the noodles were burning his mouth.

Jisung glanced at Changbin, who was looking at the oldest boy with a furrowed brow. He wanted to say something, but he knew Chan would just brush it off again. It frustrated him to no end, but how could he possibly bring it up? His concerns and fears about Chan’s health? About losing one of his best friends?

Changbin ate his dinner, one hand bringing the noodles to his mouth and the other reaching under the table. He gripped Jisung’s own hand tightly, reminding the younger boy that it would be okay. That they would be okay.

The youngest sighed and nodded minutely at Changbin before picking up his own chopsticks and allowing himself to eat. He wasn’t all that hungry, since he had been snacking between takes, but he knew if he didn’t eat Chan would worry, and if Chan worried about him, the elder wouldn’t worry about himself. He would put all his focus on energy in making sure Jisung was alright, and his own bowl of ramyeon would sit untouched.

Changbin gave Jisung’s hand one last squeeze before letting go - a promise. They were going to make sure Chan was okay, together.

Chan looked at himself in the mirror, the steam from the shower blurring his face until he was an unrecognizable blob. He was waiting for the hot water to build back up again - he had let the other two shower before him, opting to pull out his laptop and see if he could fiddle with the track he had made no progress on. Now that the dorm was silent and everyone was fast asleep, he was finally allowing himself to relax.

Soft music came from his phone, just loud enough to hear over the water but not so loud that it could be heard outside of the bathroom.

A small part of him wondered if having eight boys in the dorm instead of nine changed how much hot water there was. Another part of him rationalized that it was ridiculous - the dorm building housed idols, trainees and employees alike. There was no way a single absence would make any difference.

His stomach began to bubble, rage and guilt eating away at what little was left of his dinner. They were supposed to be nine or none. He had picked them all by hand. It was his fault that things went sour. It was his fault that the younger members were treated that way... it was his fault, and he could never forget it, even if he tried.

So much went wrong, because he wasn’t enough.

The steam got thicker as the shower ran hotter. It was almost four in the morning, so there was little chance anyone else in the building was up, which meant all the hot water in the building was his.

Chan stepped under the water, hissing as his skin was instantly scalded. His eyes filled with tears as he forced himself to stay under the stream, refusing to step aside. The pain helped clear his head, and it was better than what he used to do... right?

He started to rock gently back and forth, unable to stay still in case the electricity in his veins decided to eat him alive, leaving nothing more than a husk behind where a bright young man once stood.

The others were asleep, but he knew there was no point in trying to rest himself. When he got like this, he would be awake for the entire night - not from lack of trying either. One of the first times he got this bad, he went through an entire bottle of melatonin tablets in a single week, desperately chasing a single night’s worth of rest and failing. Now, he just lets it happen.

Because he knew the second this... whatever was happening to him... passed, he would collapse for a full day. His manager would find a way to give them that day off, and they would let him sleep for a solid fifteen hours before making him something to eat. He hated how often it happened, but he couldn’t stop it.

It seemed to alternate. A week of feeling like there was fire burning him alive from the inside out, pushing him to do everything at once. A week of feeling relatively normal. A week of being so depressed the thought of existing made him burst into tears. A week of feeling as normal as he could get. Then the cycle repeated. He didn’t know if anyone else noticed the pattern, but he did, and he didn’t know what it meant.

Part of him was too afraid to look into it. He knew if he did - if he went to talk to someone and got a diagnosis on whatever this was and maybe even got medication to help him - the others would treat him like he was going to break. He would have to hide it from the public, because whatever this was wasn’t something that would be seen kindly. This wasn’t like anxiety, which was getting more and more accepted in the industry, where he could take a few months off to recover. No, whatever this was... he was stuck with it.

His nails dug into the flesh of his thigh. He made a point to keep them short so he couldn’t scratch bruises in the shape of claw marks down his arms and legs and stomach anymore. He could barely feel the scars anymore, but he knew they were there. They blended into his skin, not having been added to in months - in fact, he had been clean for almost a year, not that there was anyone outside of himself to know that fact.

No one truly knew how hard it was, when his friends would debut and would leave him all alone in the JYP practice rooms. How scared and isolated he felt for those seven or so years, where his future was so uncertain that he wondered if it was really worth it at all.

Then he started to find his members. He started building his team - his family. Then the show happened, and everything started to crumble right in front of him. He desperately tried to hold on, the dust falling through his fingers no matter how frantically he grasped for them.

Then they debuted. Their futures were set, and they had a fandom that adored them. They were able to do what they loved, and it was all he could ever ask for.

So when he found himself in the shower at three in the morning, all those months ago, red running down the drain as his thigh pulsed faintly in time with his heart, Chan felt like a failure. He had everything, so why was he still unhappy? It wasn’t that he wanted to relapse, but he needed to get the electricity out somehow. If he couldn’t get it out during the day, it began to bubble under his skin until he felt as though he was a stranger in his own body. When he got like that, he needed to get the electricity OUT or he would go insane-

At least when he was depressed, he was so depressed he couldn’t bring himself to hurt himself. It was too much work, and he just couldn’t handle it.

Either the hot water started to run out, or he got used to the heat so much that it barely felt warm anymore, but soon Chan found himself stepping out of the shower still feeling like he was drowning in fireworks. His phone read four thirty. Hyunjin would be the first up, at seven, to take his online classes. Chan had been so proud of the younger boy for wanting to get a college degree on top of everything he was already doing. Then the others would slowly start to shuffle into the kitchen in various stages of consciousness. They would eat and get ready for the day - it was Tuesday, which mean they had dance practice followed by interview prep for that upcoming Friday

Two and a half hours was basically nothing. Chan could easily stay up that long. He had already been up this long, and he could feel it. Deep down, he could feel that he wouldn’t be able to sleep, no matter how tired he knew he should be.

So instead he got dressed, threw the towel over his hair rather than properly drying it, and left the bathroom. He grabbed his laptop and his headphones. He pulled the piano app up on his phone, and he got to work. After all, he promised to have this song done as soon as possible - it wasn’t anyone’s fault but his own that he was so useless he couldn’t write one stupid, fucking song-

Chan sighed, closing his eyes for just a moment. The fireworks in his chest calmed some as his leg started to bounce. He opened his eyes and got to work, determined to figure out what was missing from the track before the sun woke up.

Chapter Text

Chan wandered into the kitchen, grin bright and hair messy. He managed to avoid being seen awake by Hyunjin, who shuffled into the kitchen at exactly 7:15 to make himself a cup of coffee before his 8am online class. Even if Chan had been sitting at the kitchen table, he doubted the younger boy would have noticed him seeing how exhausted he looked.

In the two and a half hours that he spent on the couch instead of sleeping, he actually managed to make some progress, which was the main source of his good mood. In fact, he felt like he could run around the city without breaking a sweat. He wanted to show the others, but he knew they would instantly call him out - they had been told about the lack of progress on the song in the SKZ group chat by Jisung just as the three were leaving the company building to walk back to the dorms. He wanted to tell them, but he knew their concern would push him over the edge and the electricity would start to eat him alive and he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from-

“Hyung?” A voice swam through Chan’s thoughts, but he couldn’t focus on it. There was a buzzing in his head that was getting more and more distracting by the second and he could feel his thoughts stumbling over themselves as they tried to be thought all at the same time like the one about his song finally being done after all this time and how that thought was being shoved out of the way by the thought of wanting to catch up on that show that Felix had showed him a while back that had fallen to the side which was immediately covered up by the realization that it should be time to change the filter in the air conditioner soon which isn’t something they should put off for too long, for their health and that was quickly replaced with the thought of how he wouldn’t mind getting some soju for that evening, so when he locked himself in the studio he could have a little fun and-

“Chris!” A hand was on his arm. Chan looked up into Felix’s eyes, confusion and concern painted clearly in the younger’s face. It took a moment for him to process that Felix had spoken to him in English. “Are you aight? You’re spacin’ out real bad there mate.”

“Uh...” He realized just how disoriented he actually was. It took a moment to remember where he was - the kitchen, with his members. “Yeah, just a little tired I guess.”

“What time did you go to sleep?” Seungmin asked, handing the older boy a water bottle, the cold condensation enough to ground Chan somewhat. Chan panicked a little, not sure if his chaotic mind would be able to say something believable.

“Erm, not too late.” He said, his tone sounding hollow in his own ears. He wondered if it was as noticeable to the others. One glance around told him that yes, they also noticed how fake his response sounded. “Seriously, I was asleep by.... Three.”

He instantly winced. Jisung didn’t even get out of the shower until quarter to three, and there’s no physical way Chan could have showered, gotten ready for bed and actually fallen asleep in the span of fifteen minutes.

“Hyung...” Jisung said, sounding upset. He knew... oh fuck he knew and he was going to call Chan out and they were going to hate him-

“Maybe we can take the day off-” Jeongin started, reaching for his phone - probably to text their manager. Chan’s heart began to beat hard. If they took the day off, the others would make him rest, and if he stayed still, the electricity inside of him would eat him alive.

“No!” He accidentally shouted, causing everyone to freeze. He instantly wanted to swallow the word back again, his eyes widening in horror at the realization of what he did. “Uh... I mean...”

“It’s alright hyung,” Hyunjin handed Chan a bowl of plain white rice. “We can go in for a little bit, and then come back early for some bonding or something.”

“Maybe...” Chan swallowed back his panic. The buzzing in his blood was getting distracting. He placed the bowl down and opened the bottle, downing half the water in a single go. Wiping his chin with the back of his hand, Chan wondered briefly how much water it would take to make him throw it up.

“Alright, we should start to get ready,” Minho chimed in, not realizing the thoughts running through his leader’s mind. “If we can get enough done we can come home for an early dinner.”

“Yes hyung!” A chorus responded, the younger members piling out of the kitchen. Chan didn’t notice the worried glances thrown over their shoulders as they went. He was too busy shoveling the rice into his mouth, not having realized how hungry he was - it made sense, seeing how the only thing he had eaten the day before was a single bowl of ramyeon and a shit ton of coffee.

He thought back to when he refused to drink the stuff, relying solely on tea and his own energy to get through the day. Now, he was dependent on the caffeine boost, especially when he got like this. In fact, he consumed twice the amount he normally did just to see how badly he could make himself shake - just for fun.

Maybe there was something wrong with him.

He pushed the thoughts aside and put his bowl in the sink. He took a little longer than the others to get ready, and they needed to leave soon.

He didn’t want to be the one holding everyone back.

Chan let out a laugh as he hit the turn. This choreography was some of the hardest they had to date, and he was having the time of his life. A jump into a turn into a scuff into another jump, he was able to throw his entire body into the dance. He flung his arm around from the shoulder, letting the momentum of his weight propel him into the next move. His body was thrumming with adrenaline as the last section of the song came up. Despite his fatigue, he pushed himself even harder, literally throwing himself into the movements.

He could feel himself losing his balance but he kept going - if he fell then he fell. If he got hurt, then he got hurt. He stumbled into the final combination, throwing his arm again. It reminded him of the choreography from Double Knot, but even more intense. His shoulder strained at the movement, and he wasn’t sure if the sound he let out was another laugh or a cry of pain. Either way, he was grinning as they hit the ending positions, their ragged breathing bouncing off the foggy mirrors of the practice room.

“Hyung, are you alright?” Minho panted as they collapsed to the ground.

“Eh?” Chan could barely take a breath.

“It looked like you- you might have pulled a muscle on th-that last past.”

“Nah, I’m okay.” Chan felt light headed. His shoulder throbbed and for a moment, he considered the fact that maybe Minho was right, and he had fucked his shoulder up somehow.

“I have some pain patches in my bag,” The dancer said, seeming not to care that Chan claimed to be fine. “Here, take your shirt off.”

Chan’s brain blue screened for a moment.

“What?”

“I’m going to put the patches on your shoulder,” Minho raised a single eyebrow. “I’ll have to reapply them after you shower, but it’s best to treat muscle strains as soon as possible so they don’t get worse.”

“O-oh...” He knew his scars on his side were faint, but there was always the chance this would be the one day someone noticed - the one day someone said something. He did as he was told, not wanting to be suspicious. The fireworks under his skin buzzed gently, almost seeming content from how hard he had pushed himself during the last run through.

“I have a dry shirt!” Jisung chimed in quickly, going to his own things. Chan instantly felt bad, wanting to call out and tell Jisung it was fine - that he didn’t need to take the shirt the younger rapper so obviously brought for himself to change into - but Jisung was back by his side before he had the chance.

Chan flinched a little when Minho used his discarded shirt to wipe the sweat from his skin, drying it in preparation for the patches. Chan hated the pain patches, because they smell gave him a headache and because they were a sign of weakness - that he wasn’t strong enough to handle some simple dancing.

Minho’s hands were quick and effective, having done this hundreds of times for himself as well as the other members. Chan didn’t know why his eyes watered at the feeling of how warm Minho’s hands were against his flushed skin. It wasn’t necessarily that he had feelings for any of his members, but fuck did he miss being touched. He never thought he was the kind of person to need physical contact to thrive, but there he was.

“Thanks Sungie,” Chan took the shirt and slipped it over his head as soon as he got the signal from Minho that he was done. “Thanks Min.”

“No problem hyung!” Jisung gave a sloppy salute before going back to his belongings and grabbing his water bottle.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Minho wasn’t so easily swayed. “I have painkillers if you want some.”

“Actually, could I?” Chan couldn’t stop himself from saying. A small part of him knew how dangerous it was for him to be around medication while he was filled with the electricity, but his mouth worked before his brain did.

“Mm.” Minho nodded and grabbed the bottle of painkillers from his bag. Chan felt a pang of concern - why did the younger boy need an entire bottle of painkillers in his bag? Did Minho take the pills often enough to carry them all with him? Was Minho hurt?

Before Chan could voice any of his worries, the bottle of pills was being placed in his hand.

“Just toss it back in my bag when you’re done.” Minho gave him a smile before going over to Felix and Hyunjin, who were doing their post-workout stretches. Chan unscrewed the child-proof cap and tipped the little orange pills into his palm.

The rational part of his brain reminded him that two was the healthy amount. He tipped a few of the pills back into the bottle. He glanced around to see if anyone was close enough to notice the amount that remained cupped in his palm. Grabbing his own water bottle, he threw back the pills - somewhere between six and ten, give or take - swallowing them all in a single go and draining the water fully. Capping the pills, he tossed them back into Minho’s bag and finally let himself sit against the mirrors. He could feel the heat from his body bouncing off his reflection, fogging the glass up even more. The electricity seemed pleased at his recklessness, even if it was just painkillers and not anything lethal.

He really didn’t want to get up for a while, but he knew he had ten minutes at most before the others started to pack up for the day.
His fingers started to drum against his thigh. Why was the electricity back already? He had done so much to get rid of it, but it was still eating through him.

“Ready to go hyung?” Jeongin’s voice broke Chan’s thoughts.

“Mm, everyone alright?” Chan stood, ignoring how his legs shook dangerously. He refused to let himself collapse in front of the younger members - if he was going to pass out, it was going to be safely away from prying eyes.

“Yup!” A chorus of replies sang back to him. He felt his mouth turn up in a smile despite the wildfire raging through him.

“Let’s go then!” He chuckled, waiting for everyone to file from the room before flicking off the light and closing the door. They joked around and poked fun at each other, laughing and smacking each other’s shoulders as they made their way to the elevator.

Chan watched them play around fondly. He really would give everything for these boys, wouldn’t he? He’d even give up his own health for them - to Chan, they were the most important thing in his world at the moment.

His heartbeat began to pick up without him knowing why. His eyes widened as the elevator doors closed - he knew what was happening.

Chan had passed out several times before, and it always started with his heart pounding painfully and his skin getting cold and clammy out of nowhere. He had maybe three minutes before his vision went black around the edges and he lost consciousness. He couldn’t let himself faint in front of the others, but they were trapped together.

“Hyung?”

“Wh-what?” He blinked, his vision starting to swim with little black dots.

“You look really pale,” Seungmin frowned. “Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

“Ah, I’m alright,” He tried to playfully ruffle the younger boy’s head, but he instantly knew Seungmin could feel how much he was leaning on the vocalist. “Just tired.”

“Do you need help getting to the car?” Hyunjin asked, his eyebrows giving away how worried he was for their leader.

“Nah, you don’t have to worry about that,” He smiled, but it felt weak. Just then, the elevator doors opened, letting the boys spill out into the lobby. Chan felt his head start to spin just as his hearing became tinny. “Actually, I’m going to use the bathroom real quick. You don’t have to wait up, alright?”

“But hyung-” Instantly he was met with protests.

“As your leader, I’m letting you go home early,” He forced his smile to look easy-going and light hearted. “I promise to be back soon.”

“If you’re not there in an hour, we’re coming back and dragging you home.” Changbin threatened. Chan smiled again and nodded.

“Deal.” He could feel himself shaking, the ringing in his ears getting louder and louder as the nausea crept up his throat, painting the back of his tongue with bile. He forced himself to breath slowly, desperately trying to keep his stomach from emptying itself on the tiles of the lobby floor.

Chan waited for the other boys to start walking towards the doors before making a dash to the nearest bathrooms. He thanked whatever gods were watching that it was both a single stall and empty. He closed the door and clicked the lock just as the ringing in his ears got too much to handle. His vision went dark as he fell painfully to his knees.

He didn’t feel himself collapse into a heap on the floor.

Chan blinked slowly, his consciousness coming back to him bit by bit. He always felt like shit after passing out, but for some reason he felt even worse in that moment. His head pounded to the point where it was affecting his vision and he could have sworn he was floating even though he could faintly feel the cool tiles below him.

He pulled out his phone as he propped himself up, checking the time. With a sigh of relief, he realized he had only been unconscious for about a minute. He was never out for too long, the longest being just over a minute and a half. He should be worried that this wasn’t one of his ten second fainting spells, but he found he didn’t really care all that much.

“I’ll just... sit here for a bit.” He said to himself, his voice soft against the suffocating silence of the bathroom.

Far too soon, there was the sound of the doorknob being rattled. Chan knew he should be worried, but he couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes properly. He was too busy trying to bring his breathing under control again, his entire body feeling like it was malfunctioning. He barely noticed the door clicking open, despite him definitely having locked it.

“Oh hyung...” A voice said softly.

“Is he alright?” An older voice asked.

“Mm, just tired. Thanks for unlocking the door for me.”

“Just make sure he gets some rest.”

“I will,” There were hands on Chan’s face. “Come on hyung, wake up?”

“Mhm...” He grumbled, his head swimming as he opened his eyes. His stomach dropped when he recognized the concerned face looking back at him. “Innie...”

“I’m glad I hung back,” Jeongin said quietly, almost as though he were afraid to speak too loudly. “I knew something was up with you.”

“The others?”

“Back at the dorms by now,” The younger boy said, helping Chan to his feet. “I told them I left something in the practice room, and that we’d walk back together.”

“We should go before they get worried.”

“We’re already worried,” Jeongin’s voice was harsh, and it made Chan flinch a little. “We- you’re our leader, hyung. We get that you’re supposed to look out for us, but why can’t we look out for you too?”

“I’m fine Innie-”

“You passed out, didn’t you?”

“No-” he cut himself off, the thought of lying to his maknae’s face like that making him sick to his stomach. “I... uh...”

“You look like death hyung,” The boy’s voice was soft. Scared. “What if you hit your head? What if you didn’t wake up?”

“I just overworked myself,” He sighed. “I’ll be fine after some rest.”

“But you won’t rest,” Jeongin held on to the older boy’s arm as if he were afraid Chan would vanish if he let go. They left the building and set out towards the dorms, which were only a block and a half away. They could easily walk, but the company preferred driving them back to avoid being mobbed. “You never let yourself rest when you get like this.”

“Like how?” His heartbeat increased. Was he that obvious that something was wrong?

“Like... like you’re going to explode if you stop moving,” Jeongin said, keeping his eyes forward as they walked. Chan felt himself freeze, Jeongin accidentally tugging on his arm when he kept going forward but the older boy stopped completely. “Hyung?”

“Ah, I’m sorry,” His eyes stung. “I thought I was doing a good job at hiding it...”

“Why hide it? Why can’t you just- just let us help you!” Jeongin shouted, frustration clear in his voice. Chan just smiled sadly and shook his arm from the younger’s grip.

“Because I don’t even know what’s going on,” He admitted quietly. “And I don’t want whatever this is to affect you. This is my problem to deal with.”

“You’re not alone-”

“But you guys aren’t my therapist,” Chan cut him off. “I appreciate you caring about me, but I don’t really know what you could do to help me.”

“We could figure something out,” He said quickly, his eyes getting glassy. “We could h-help...”

“I love you guys, I really do,” Chan pulled his youngest into a hug, pressing a kiss to the boy’s forehead. “You mean the world to me.”

“Hyung...”

“We should be getting back,” He said, cutting the conversation off. He hoped Jeongin would let it drop for now. He also knew this conversation was going to come back to bite him in the ass - if he had been a little more aware of himself he might have been able to come up with an excuse, but he was too drained to think of anything. After not sleeping at all the night before and only having a bowl of rice, he wasn’t surprised his body was failing him. “The others will start to worry if you’re out too long.”

“But...” He trailed off, understanding the look on Chan’s face. He was telling the younger to let it drop, and no matter how hard he wanted to press, Jeongin knew it would only make things worse. He may be young, but he wasn’t stupid. Especially not when it came to his members. He could read them better than he could read a children’s book.

They pushed their way into the apartment, the other members instantly crowding them and asking a thousand questions at once. Only Minho hung back, watching everything with keen eyes. Jeongin caught his gaze and shook his head minutely, just enough that the older boy could see the signal. Minho frowned harder. He would pull Jeongin aside and get him to recount everything that happened later, but in that moment they needed to focus on making sure Chan didn’t faint. He was way too pale, and his hands were shaking way too much.

If only they knew.

Chapter Text

Chan heard his alarm go off and rolled over with a groan. He cracked open a single eye and swatted blindly towards where his phone usually was, slapping the beeping off before falling back onto his pillows. He could hear the others rustling about the dorm, shuffling feet and deep, gravely morning voices leaking through the air.

He took stock of himself, trying to get a read on what kind of day it was going to be. His mouth was dry, and his head ached slightly. His shoulder screamed as he shifted, and his stomach growled loudly. Sitting up, he realized the electricity was no longer threatening to consume him whole. He could still feel it, just below his skin, but it seemed sated. Content, almost.

“Hyung?” Seungmin poked his head into the room. Chan must have been the last one up again.

“I’ll be out in a second,” Chan grumbled, his eyes stinging from sleep. “Make sure the others are....” He cut himself off with a yawn. “Eating.”

“Actually, we got the day off,” The younger boy said, slipping into the room and closing the door behind him. He walked over and gently sat on the edge of Chan’s bed, looking at his lap rather than at his leader. “Manager hyung said we’ve been working ourselves too hard, and that he wants us to rest for a bit before we start passing out.”

Chan, still half asleep, didn’t notice the look Seungmin was giving him - a calculated look, as if he were specifically watching for reactions to his words.

“Huh?” It took a moment, but eventually he was able to pry his eyes open. Seungmin gave an amused - if not mildly exasperated - smile.

“Go back to sleep hyung,” He pushed Chan’s shoulder gently. “We’ll wake you up for lunch.”

“Mm... okay...” He fell back against his pillows, burying his face and letting his breathing even out. He was asleep before Seungmin even left the room.

“Morning hyung!” Felix grinned as Chan finally made his way out to the living room area, where various members were loitering. Felix and Jisung were sitting with their backs against the front of the couch, looking at something on the latter’s laptop. Minho was sprawled on the couch with his switch, Hyunjin laying on his chest like a cat watching the game, and Chan could hear Seungmin berating Changbin for spilling something in the kitchen. The sound of the shower running told him Jeongin must be in the bathroom. Chan smiled and slid down to sit next to the freckled boy, letting his head drop onto the other’s shoulder.

“You look better.” Minho said, looking up from his switch.

“Feel better,” He said with a chuckle. “Feels like I finally got some decent sleep.”

“You were out for twelve hours,” Hyunjin commented, not looking up from Minho’s game for even a moment. “We were gonna jump on your bed if you kept going.”

“He needed it,” Felix waved Hyunjin off. “We all needed a day off.”

“Hyung...” Changbin whined as he slumped out of the kitchen, his eyes instantly finding Chan and latching onto him. “Minnie’s bullying me.”

“He’s just being a baby.” Seungmin followed, defending himself.

“Baby Changbinnie doesn’t deserve this...” Changbin pouted, causing various reactions from the boys in the living room. Felix and Jisung giggled, Hyunjin and Minho groaned. Seungmin rolled his eyes and Chan watched them all with a faint smile.

“What’s going on? What did I miss?” Jeongin came in, dressed and towel drying his hair from his shower.

His members were everything to him, and he never realized that more than in moments like this, where they were all together. In moments where they weren’t Stray Kids, but a group of best friends who were spending the day with each other. It was moments like this that made everything worth it - all the electricity and all the sludge. All the stress and late nights and anxiety over the chance of failure. The hate online and the threats that still manage to slip past despite their managers attempts to intercept as much as possible. It was all worth it if it meant he could watch them be happy like this as often as possible.

“Hyung?” Someone nudged Chan’s shoulder. He looked over at Felix, who was looking back at the older boy with an unreadable expression.

“What’s up Lix?”

“Nothing, you just looked like you were starting to zone out,” He said, his words sounding almost hesitant. “Everything alright?”

“Mm, I just... really love you guys,” Chan felt his ears warm. “I really don’t know where I would be without you.”

“Hyung...” The room exploded in coos and aws. He felt arms snake around his waist as Felix buried his face in the elder’s neck. Chan relaxed into the hug, holding the smaller boy close.

He did know. He knew exactly where he would be if he hadn’t found the others - if he hadn’t found Stray Kids. Their motto was that their fans Make Stray Kids Stay, but it was more than that. Stray Kids helped the fans Stay as well.

Stray Kids helped Chan himself Stay.

He knew if he continued to be alone as a trainee, if he debuted as a solo artist or with a different group of people, he might not have made it this far at all. It had already been hard enough to get himself out of bed back then. He had felt lost and alone, and it wasn’t until he started finding his members that he himself felt found again.

“Let’s watch a movie,” Seungmin suggested, already bringing Netflix up on their TV. “I heard they took that one romcom off, which sucks.

“Wait no!” Hyunjin sat up from Minho’s chest, pouting. “That was my favorite.”

“We can find something else,” Minho laughed - breathlessly, seeing how the younger boy was still basically sitting on him. “Don’t pout you baby.”

“Let Chan hyung pick,” Jeongin said, taking his place on the other side of Jisung. “He’s the leader.”

Chan blinked, not having expected to have this responsibility. In all honesty, he didn’t care what they watched, as long as they were all together.

“Sung can pick for me,” He said with a smile. “I know there were a few dramas he’s wanted to show us.”

“Really!?” Jisung shot upright, his eyes shining. “I’ve been waiting for this!”

He quickly snatched the remote from Seungmin and began scrolling through the previously viewed section of their account. Since all eight shared a single account, their recommendations were a variety of documentaries, horror movies, anime, dramas and English movies. Chan chuckled at the younger rapper’s enthusiasm before falling silent.
Would he be able to sit through several episodes of a show? The day before he felt like he was going to die if he stopped moving, but just like the other times this happened, the next day it was if the storm had passed, only leaving faint remnants that it happened at all.

He’d probably need to play a game on his phone as he watched, but he would still be able to pay attention to the plot. Multitasking would be all he needed in order to keep the last dredges of the electricity happy. He knew tomorrow there would be barely anything left, and the day after that it would be completely gone. That’s just how these... fits worked. He spent three days completely at the mercy of the fireworks, then three days recovering before he was back to normal - or however normal he was while in between feeling like he could fight God himself and feeling as though he was a bag of jello that unfortunately was given a face.

Chan decided to enjoy his day. There was a lot he still had to worry about, but the next day was also free because it was right before their interviews Friday - they were always given the day before an interview off, so they would be well rested for the hosts.

The electricity buzzed, but stayed quiet as they enjoyed their day off.

“How’re you feelin’?” Felix asked in English. They were getting ready for bed early that night, because they needed to be at the company building at six am for their interviews. Chan bit back a yawn and smiled at the younger boy.

“Pretty good,” He responded. “I almost don’t wanna do these interviews.”

“They’re exhausting,” Felix agreed with a chuckle. Chan loved to see the glowing tan and freckles of the younger Australian’s face - he hated how they tried to cover it all up with makeup, just like he hated how Jisung always used the snow app for his instagram posts, and how Hyunjin would retake the same picture twenty times until it was perfect, because to Chan, his members were already perfect. They didn’t need to change to look better, but it seemed he was the only one who thought so. “And we have to start preparing for our comeback stage right after.”

“You’ll be fine,” Chan ruffled his hair playfully. “You have the choreo down better than anyone. This state is going to be a piece of cake.”

“Chris...”

“Mm?”

“Are you sure you’re feeling alright?” Felix looked at him with wide, concerned eyes and Chan found he couldn’t bring himself to lie.

“I’m feeling better,” He admitted with a small smile. “The last few days were... rough, but I think it’s getting better.”

“That’s good,” Felix rested his head on the older boy’s shoulder. “You can come to us if you feel bad, ya’know? You don’t have to do everything alone. Even if we can’t really do anything, we can listen. We can... I dunno, cheer you up if you’re upset or distract you if you’re feeling off. We just want... we want to be there for you, like you’re always there for us.”

“Lix...” Chan’s eyes stung. He knew his members loved him, but hearing it made him want to cry. He instantly berated himself, thinking how he should have hid everything better - they never should have known anything was wrong in the first place. This was all his fault, for not being able to handle his shit properly-

“It’s like ya always say to us,” Felix broke Chan from his thoughts. “It’s okay to not be okay. You’re not any less of a leader if you need help sometimes.”

“Thank Lixie,” Chan couldn’t let the younger continue. If Felix kept going, Chan would absolutely burst into tears, and that was the last thing he wanted to happen. “I’ll remember that, I promise.”

It was a lie, and he could see how the light in Felix’s eyes dimmed a little. It seemed the younger boy knew Chan was lying as well.

“Mm,” He hummed, looking away quickly. “Well, I’ll see you in the morning hyung. Sleep well, okay?”

“I will,” Chan’s stomach twisted. He didn’t mean to put that kind of expression on Felix’s face, but it seemed all he did was disappoint. “You too.”

“Mm, night hyung.” Felix slipped into his room, leaving Chan alone in the hall.

Like clockwork, almost a full week later, Chan started to feel it again. He could feel the shadowy hands running up his body, pulling him down, down, down.

He hated being filled with electricity, but he hated the depression more. At least with the fireworks, he could get work done. With the threat of the darkness hanging over his head like a guillotine blade, Chan knew he was going to run out of productivity very soon.

Soon, he would be faced with endless exhaustion. He would have to deal with limbs that were too heavy to move and thoughts too dark to voice, and this time he was more scared than usual because the depression seemed to be setting in sooner than usual. He was used to having a solid week and a half before the symptoms of another episode were even hinted, but he was already sliding down. 

“Ready to go one last time?” Minho’s voice called Chan’s attention back to the present. They agreed to run the choreography three more times before heading back to the dorms for the day to wash up. For some reason, the manager had been extra strict about making sure they had either a whole afternoon or whole morning to themselves. Chan didn’t want to think it was because of him, but he was pretty sure it was.

“Hyung, you hit that last move perfectly,” Hyunjin grinned, coming over to slap Chan on the shoulder. The members took turns sitting out of the run-throughs in order to watch the others and give notes. Chan came up with the idea to allow everyone to give and receive feedback, so their voices were heard. “I think the problem is that we always hesitate right before the shoulder throw. The issue is that going all out looks better, but has a higher chance of us hurting ourselves...”

“We’ll bring it up with the choreographer next time he’s here,” Chan said. His shoulder still ached from when he pulled something the week prior, and all the extra practice did nothing to make the pain go away. “Let’s all do this last run through and we can go back to the dorms.”

“Yes hyung!” A chorus responded to him. Chan set the music to play the last couple of seconds of the song, so they could get into position, before it reset to the beginning again. They gave it all they got, knowing this was the last time they’d practice this choreography for that day - their comeback stage was getting closer and closer, and with their manager making sure they rest more, it meant they were losing time to rehearse. They were all getting a little anxious, because even though they were fairly confident in their abilities to perform the song well, they were getting only half the amount of practice they normally did.

Chan lost himself in the choreography, his head tuning out his thoughts in favor of letting his muscles take over. His mind began to wander a little, wondering how their stage would be received, and what their outfits would look like, and if he was being a good enough leader because there was always more he could do to make things better for the others.

Before he understood what was happening, they were hitting their end poses, the music immediately looping back to the beginning. Chan hadn’t even realized he had stopped dancing until he felt someone clap him on the shoulder.

“I think we’ve got this down,” Minho grinned, his bangs sticking to the sweat on his forehead. All the members were panting heavily, all having agreed to forgo their break in order to cram in as much practice as they could. Jisung lay on the ground, his limbs splayed out like a starfish as Felix held a cold water bottle against the rapper’s cheek. Hyunjin was wiping his face with the hem of his shirt, while Minho draped himself over Jeongin’s shoulders. The youngest scowled but didn’t actually try all that hard to shake him off. Seungmin was sitting with Changbin, chatting about something. They all looked exhausted, but satisfied. It made Chan’s chest warm - for a moment, he felt like maybe he was doing things right. “Ready to go hyung? You’re kinda zoning out.”

“Mm, let’s head home.” Chan smiled, slinging his arm over the dancer’s shoulders. He bit back the wince as his muscles screamed at the action, masking it with a grin when Minho scowled and complained that he was too sweaty.

“It’s fine when you do it but Chan hyung can’t?” Jeongin complained as they walked out of the practice room. Minho didn’t have a response, so he just huffed and fell silent, allowing his leader’s arm to remain around him.

It was like a volcano, simmering just below his skin. He could feel the lava bubbling and oozing, threatening an eruption at any moment. Chan knew he was going to crash any day, which was not good because their comeback stage was in two and a half weeks. He prayed that this depression dip would clear up and his mind would allow him to go back to normal in time for the performance, but there was a sick feeling in his stomach that something was going to go wrong.

He already felt tired, as if moving was too much work. It wasn’t bad yet, but it would be soon - if not in the morning, then the day after.

“At least I can feel it coming.” He muttered to himself, scowling a little.

“Did you say something?” Jisung looked up, having been focusing on his phone up to that moment. Chan froze, blinking a few times before responding.

“Nah,” he said with a smile. He couldn’t tell if it was forced yet. “Just reminding myself of some things I wanted to do before going to sleep.”

“Hyung, you work too much.” Hyunjin whined, bending over the back of his chair so his hair used gravity to fall away from his face towards the floor.

“I work hard so you guys have the chance to relax,” he chuckled. He had used this excuse many times, but at least it was true, unlike the ones he always gave when someone asked if he was alright. “Besides, shouldn't you be focusing on your exam coming up?”

“Shit!” Hyunjin almost fell out of his chair in his rush to grab his phone. He checked the date and groaned, letting his forehead slam onto the table. “I’m so screwed...”

“I’ll help you study, don’t worry Jinnie,” Chan laughed lightly. Hyunjin was known to be a little dramatic at points, but it never failed to cheer the eldest up. He was sure Hyunjin knew, which was why he continued to be over the top, and for that Chan was eternally grateful. “You did well on the last exam. I know you’re going to do great.”

“Dad believes in me...” Hyunjin looked up suddenly, eyes wide and voice wispy. Chan snorted, which sent a ripple of laughter through the rest of the boys.

Chan watched as the younger members chatted and moved around each other to throw together a modge-podged dinner with whatever leftovers they still had in the fridge - he made a mental note to go shopping soon. Normally their manager makes sure there’s food in the dorm, but he knew the older man was busy with preparations for the comeback stage, so it wouldn’t hurt if he did it himself. If he didn’t go after dinner, he would just wake up early and go first thing in the morning so there was food for breakfast.

“Here hyung!” Felix all but shoved a bowl into Chan’s hands, waiting just long enough to make sure the older boy wouldn’t drop it before zipping to the other side of the kitchen to do something else. Chan smiled softly to himself, thinking about how spoiled he was by his members.

The next morning, true to his predictions, Chan woke up feeling as though there was sludge in his limbs rather than bone. He rolled over to turn off his alarm, but he could barely bring himself to lift his arm, let alone grab the phone and tap the right buttons.

Tears gathered in his eyes. He didn’t have time for this! He needed to be a leader, not a depressed piece of shit!

This is why bad things kept happening, because he was a bad person. The reason they lost a member, the reason Woojin- no, he didn’t want to think about him. The betrayal was still fresh, even if it happened over a year ago. It was all his fault. He wasn’t good enough to be the leader of Stray Kids. He could barely keep himself together! How was he supposed to protect the kids when he couldn’t even take care of himself?

He could hear the others shuffling around the dorm and found he couldn’t hold the tears back anymore. They ran silently down his cheeks, instantly being soaked into the pillow as he buried his face in the familiar scent of his own bed. The comfort was short lived, however, because his thoughts came back just as loud.

You should be the one waking them up, not the other way around. You’re the leader, they shouldn’t have to baby you. You didn’t go shopping last night, and you slept through your alarm, so there’s no food in the dorm for them to eat. You have dance practice again, and your boys were going to pass out because YOU couldn’t be bothered to make sure they had breakfast, because you’re a selfish, useless, worthless piece of SHIT-

“Hyung?” A gentle knock came from his door. “Minho hyung said to make sure you were up.”

“Mm, I’ll be out in a minute.” He said, his words tasting like stone as they fell from heavy lips. Jeongin didn’t respond, but Chan heard the youngest walk away from the door and shout something - most likely to Minho, who was waiting for Chan to wake his ass up.

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and rested his head in his hands, his elbows digging sharply into the tops of his thighs. The pain gave him just enough momentum to get started. Taking a shuddering breath, Chan scrubbed his face clear of tears and forced himself to stand.

There was no time for him to be depressed, he reminded himself. He had a comeback to prepare for, and a group to take care of.

At least this would pass in a few days...

Chapter Text

Chan stared at his screen, completely unseeing. He’s pretty sure Changbin had said something about taking Jisung back to the dorms, but he had barely been listening. A small part of his mind wondered if Jisung was alright, but that part was instantly crushed by the boulder that weighed down on him.

In the past, when he was depressed, his mind would be a whirlwind of slurs and insults and reasons why he should hurt himself. His brain would supply all the negativity he ever needed to hate himself, and he had run with it. It made the voice easier to manage, when he let himself bleed.

But now, there were no thoughts. It was as if his head was completely empty, yet still somehow filled with water. Anytime he started to have a thought, it seemed to fade off into nothingness before he was able to fully form it. He typed a few lyric ideas out before quickly giving up. He managed five words this time - in the last hour he had come up with a grand total of seven. He reached for his phone and unlocked it, looking at the apps he had downloaded.

Several of them had notifications, but he didn’t want to read them. He couldn’t handle the emotional effort it would take to comprehend the message, think of a response and actually put himself into an active conversation. The SKZ chat had been blowing up over the last hour, but he couldn’t even bring himself to check the previews of the messages.

Without really thinking, he opened Twitter. At first, he had thought himself clever for creating a fake persona so he could interact with stays without anyone calling him out, but before he knew it, he began to rely on his feed to feel grounded. Even the hate was enough to remind him that yes, he was real. Stray Kids was real. Chris Bang was REAL.

Soon, he found his attention drifting from the tweets. There was a social media Au that had come up on his dash, and he had been interested in reading it - he loved to see the different universes his Stays were able to invent for them - but he... couldn’t. Bookmarking the tweet, Chan closed Twitter and opened a game. It was a number puzzle, and he liked it because he couldn’t think of anything while he played. All his attention went to finishing each puzzle, so he didn’t have to think at all.

The ringing in his ears notified Chan of the fact that his studio was dead silent. The song he had been working on had stopped playing because his computer screen had gone black from inactivity, leaving him completely alone. Despite knowing it would make things worse, Chan put on his playlist of sad songs - it made things worse, but it made him feel something other than crushing numbness.

Familiar chords filled the small room, his chest instantly relaxing.

“Hello there, is anyone there? Where is... is there anyone to answer me? Is anyone there?”

He started humming along, not quite able to fully sing. His mind wandered again, almost tuning out the song. He wanted to try his puzzle game again, but he couldn’t bring himself to start a new round. There was really no point, seeing how he would probably give up halfway through.

Why was he so... pathetic? He let out a silent whimper, hiding his face in his hands. It almost felt odd to move after sitting so still for so long. He wanted to reach out to someone - anyone, just so he wasn’t alone - but the thought of actively conversing with someone sent dread through the sludge that had replaced his blood.

He saved the program, just in case - not that he had done any work worth saving, but it was muscle memory if nothing else. He was faintly worried that he would fall behind, but that was just a distant fear. As soon as this passed, he would be able to catch back up again - it was what he did every time he found himself... drowning.

He could make the numbness go away. He could stop himself from slipping farther into the darkness. All he had to do was...

His fingers gripped the fabric of his sweatpants. He could... but the effort it would take was too much. The very thought of how much work would go into hurting himself only made him more tired. Maybe he could take a nap right there - it wouldn’t be the first time he pillowed his head on his arms and slept in front of his computer.

Part of him wanted to sleep forever. He didn’t want to die - at least, he didn’t think he did - but he was exhausted. If he could just sleep for a few years, or a few months... even just a few days... If he could just disappear into the nothingness of sleep and stop worrying about his very existence for just a little while, maybe things wouldn’t be so difficult.

There was a knock on the door, and Chan’s stomach sank. He couldn’t do it - he couldn’t talk to anyone right now! He couldn’t-

“Hyung? Can I come in?” Hyunjin’s voice came through the door. Chan wanted to shout NO! He wanted to tell the younger boy to leave him alone for the love of god please leave him alone because if he had to exist for even one more moment he might turn to dust-

The door opened. Chan felt his eyes burn. Hyunjin quickly closed the door behind him, separating the two boys from the rest of the world. Chan could feel his shoulders slump as he tried to turn his office chair away from Hyunjin, only for the younger boy to stop his swivling with a hand on the armrest.

Hyunjin knelt in front of his leader, a warm hand on Chan’s knee. He looked up at the older boy, his eyes so breathtakingly honest it made Chan’s heart break. He never wanted to worry his kids this much. He should be doing a better job controlling himself. He was their leader. He should be able to handle his own issues, not break down anytime he faced the slightest problem. Who was he to burden the others like this?

“It’s okay hyung,” Hyunjin said quietly, taking both of Chan’s hands in his own. His fingers were warm around Chan’s. He didn’t realize how cold he was until Hyunjin’s heat started soaking into his skin. His throat tightened. “It’s alright. I’m here.”

Chan broke. He started sobbing, painfully doubling over as his cries bounced off the studio walls. Hyunjin was quick to pull Chan from the chair and arranged the older boy in his lap, hiding Chan’s face in his shoulder.

“Shh, it’s alright,” Hyunjin whispered, rubbing the older boy’s back soothingly. “You’re okay. It’s okay. You’re gonna be alright.”

Chan couldn’t breathe. He felt as though he was being buried alive, dirt and weight pressing down on him and filling his lungs until there was no room left for the air he so desperately needed-

“Breathe, hyung,” Hyunjin whipped Chan’s cheeks with his thumbs, cupping his face gently in his palms. His heart was shattering with each and every sob that came from Chan, but there was so little he could actually do for his hyung. “You’re okay... it’s going to be okay.”

“Jinnie...” He gasped. Why wasn’t Hyunjin more afraid? The walls were closing in on them - they were about to be crushed!

“You’re okay,” Hyunjin’s voice cracked as his own tears began to fall. He tried to be strong for Chan, but he felt so helpless. He could only imagine how scared Chan must be, if this was how the younger was feeling. He started to rock gently, holding Chan as close to his chest as he could. He remembered the times Chan would do the same for him, when the pressure got to be too much and Hyunjin found himself crumbling under the strain. “I’m here. You’re not alone, hyung. I love you... you’re gonna be okay.”

Chan cried as if there was an entire ocean in his chest that was dying to escape. Each tear that fell felt like it weighed a ton, and he could feel his ribs aching from the rage of his sobs - he wondered if this could kill him, because he certainly felt like he was dying.

Hyunjin held Chan until his sobs were reduced to soft hiccups, the elder’s entire body slumping from the exhaustion that flooded him. He felt empty, as though crying drained everything from his body, leaving nothing under his skin.

Hyunjin was afraid to move. Chan had seemingly fallen asleep in his arms, his breathing whistling faintly. He knew he needed to inform the others of what happened, but waking Chan wasn’t an option.

“Hyung...” He breathed sadly. Chan’s face was flushed and tacky with tears, his eyes swollen even in his sleep. Hyunjin could see how Chan’s bottom lip was chapped and ripped apart, most likely from being chewed. He wondered if Chan even realized he had been doing it, and the odds of it being purposeful made Hyunjin’s stomach sink.

This was his fault. Hyunjin had seen the signs that Chan was going to spiral, and yet he said nothing because he was afraid of making things worse. Chan was so worried about burdening them, and he had been scared that bringing it up would cause everything to get worse. Joke was on him, because things were already worse.

He carefully reached into his back pocket for his phone, pretending his legs weren’t completely numb from how long he had been kneeling with Chan in his lap, the older boy between his thighs and his head on his shoulder. He remembered the older boy being heavier, the last time he had draped himself over the dancer. How much weight had Chan lost without them noticing?

“Hey,” He whispered as soon as Minho picked up the call. “I got him. He’s... okay, I think.”

“What happened?” Minho picked up on how quiet the younger boy was.

“Found him in the studio,” He used one arm to hold Chan close. “He... fuck- Hyung I’ve never seen him cry like that. I thought he was going to throw up.”

“Is he really okay?”

“I don’t know if he’s okay, but he’s sleeping now,” Hyunjin hated how helpless he felt - was there really nothing he could do for Chan? For the person who put everything on line for the rest of Stray Kids without a single care for his own health? For the one person who believed in Hyunjin without a single hesitation? His own parents weren’t even as supportive at first, trying to convince him to do anything other than being an idol, but Channie hyung was the only person who had never doubted him, not even once. “Hyung... what do I do? I don’t know what he needs and I-”

“It’s alright Jinnie,” Minho cut him off gently. “Changbin and I are on our way, oaky? We’re gonna help get hyung back to the dorms.”

“Mm, we’ll be here,” Hyunjin ended the call and sighed. He had never felt so small in his entire life. Chan shifted in his lap, his tears soaking into Hyunjin’s chest. He mumbled something, but Hyunjin couldn’t understand him. “It’s okay hyung, I’m here.”

They sat in silence for what felt like hours, Hyunjin staying still as a statue to avoid risking waking Chan up. He looked exhausted, somehow even smaller and more tired now that he was fast asleep.

He jumped at a gentle knock on the door but he didn’t call out. Minho pushed the door open silently to let him and Changbin in, both of their faces twisting at the sight before them.

“Oh hyung...” Changbin’s voice wavered dangerously.

“Come on, let’s get him on my back,” Minho knelt in front of Hyunjin, arms out behind him. Changbin and Hyunjin hesitated, trying to think of the best way to handle this. “Just move him slowly. If he wakes up, he’ll just fall back asleep again.”

Minho refused to make a noise as Chan was put on his back, even though the older boy was a little heavier than he was used to carrying. He hoisted Chan up, wrapping the older boy’s legs around his waist and cupping his thighs to make sure he stayed secure. Chan’s head rested on his shoulder, his breath tickling Minho’s neck as he slept on.

“Text the others,” Minho whispered. “Don’t... don’t give them all the details yet, but tell them we found hyung and that we’re on our way back.”

“Should we pretend we didn’t see?” Changbin asked, but it was clear in his voice that that was the last thing he wanted to do.

“We can’t, not after this,” Hyunjin sighed. Changbin thought the other rapper looked... exhausted. “He can’t brush this off.”

“He’ll try” Minho’s throat stung. “We just have to be persistent, I guess.”

“I hate that he keeps pushing away,” Changbin sounded dangerously close to tears himself. “Why won’t he just let us help-”

“He’s scared we’ll think he’s weak,” Minho cut him off before he could get too loud and wake the boy in question. “He’s scared we’ll stop needing him if he needs help.”

“That’s stupid.” Changbin muttered, no real anger in his tone.

“That’s just how his brain works.” Minho wished he had something else to say - something to encourage the other two, seeing how he was the oldest conscious member of Stray Kids now. He wanted to be like Chan - wanted to be a good leader, but he couldn’t. He wasn’t Chan, and he didn’t think he ever could be. He didn’t understand how the older boy managed to shoulder the weight of the world for them and still find a way to smile. He didn’t think he would last even a week under the stress that Chan faced on a daily basis.

The walk back to the dorms was silent, none of the boys knowing what to say to break the tension even if they wanted to.

“I told them to be quiet when we get in,” Changbin said as they rode the elevator up to their floor. Chan hadn’t stirred even once on the short walk from the company building to their dorm building, but they didn’t want to risk being swarmed, in case Chan panicked at being smothered. “Sungie said he would keep everyone in his room until hyung is settled.”

“He’s a good kid,” Minho said breathlessly. He didn’t think he would have so much trouble, but it seemed he needed to start lifting weights rather than mainly focusing on his flexibility. “I hope they’re not upset...”

“We’ll explain later.” Hyunjin whispered, head down. Minho glanced over at him and was struck with the realization - how did he not notice sooner? - that Hyunjin was younger than even Changbin. That even though some considered him to be a part of the hyung line, he was the same age as Felix, Jisung and Seungmin

Hyunjin shouldn’t have such a drained look of guilt on his face. He was too young.

They all were.

Minho let Changbin open the door to the dorm for him and stepped through after, hoisting Chan up on his back again. The longer he held the older boy, the more he slipped down and needed to be readjusted.

They went to his room, all three beds being vacant. Changbin could see Felix’s covers were messy, which meant the younger boy had probably been in bed when Jisung had gathered them all together. He was grateful that he and Felix were Chan’s roommates - it would make taking care of their hyung a little easier. Hopefully, at least.

Chan looked small as they tucked him into bed. It seems like days since the eldest had actually laid down and rested, rather than staring blankly at his wall. He looked... young, now that the weight of the world wasn’t pressing him into the dirt.

“Come on.” Changbin whispered, tugging on Minho’s sleeve.

“We should tell the others...” Hyunjin’s voice was level, but there was the tell tale sign of tears in his eyes.

The three left the room, keeping the door cracked open just in case. Jisung’s room was just across the hall, and they could hear low voices talking from behind the door. Minho let himself in, the murmuring falling silent.

“How is he?” Jisung asked, eyebrows furrowed in worry. He, Felix, and Jeongin were sitting on the rapper’s bed, Jisung holding Felix comfortably in his arms, while Seungmin sat with his back against the mattress, his head tilted back to see the other two.

“Sleeping.” Changbin left the door open a little and leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms against his chest.

“What happened?” Jeongin looked up at them with an expression that said ‘I’ll know if you’re lying’.

“He...” Hyunjin’s throat tightened. He refused to cry.

“He had a bit of a breakdown,” Minho filled in, sounding older than he should. “Hyunjin found him and we carried him back.”

“What kind of breakdown?” Felix shrunk into Jisung’s arms more, desperately searching for comfort from his friend.

“Uh...” Minho turned his head away, unable to look any of them in the eye.

“He had a panic attack,” Hyunjin sat on the edge of Jeongin’s bed. “I’ve never seen him cry like that before... it was worse than the show and Woojin hyung combined...”

“Shit.” Jisung breathed, flinching at the other’s words.

They had been a mix of relieved and inconsolable after they announced that they would continue as an eight member group from then on, but none more so than Chan. The eldest had been a wreck, locking himself in his studio for days on end. There had been so much he hadn’t known before everything came out, including how their youngest had been treated by the person who was supposed to be family. Jeongin only spoke up at the end, and everyone could tell Chan blamed himself for not doing more to protect his boys.

Chan became withdrawn and quiet, his eyes looking haunted whenever he managed to pry them open. The younger boys thought their leader was finally starting to move on from the previous year’s events, but it seemed Chan just got better at hiding it from them.

At least, until he couldn’t hide it anymore.

“What’s the plan then?” Seungmin asked, breaking the tension in the room.

“If we bring it up outright, he’ll get defensive,” Changbin shook his head. “He’s been trying to keep us out of this, so if we corner him, he’ll try to run again.”

“How can we help him then?” Minho asked, more to himself than to the rest of the boys.

“We can start with getting us the day off tomorrow,” Jisung was already tapping away at his phone. There was an edge to his voice that separated Han Jisung from J.One, member of 3Racha - separated the introverted boy from the serious producer. “We have to make sure he eats, because I can guarantee he won’t unless we push it.”

“I would suggest maybe drawing a bath or something, because it always helps me feel better, but...” Felix trailed off, looking slightly paler than before.

The rest of his sentence hung in the air, unspoken but heard loud and clear.

“But I don’t know if he can be trusted alone in the bath.”

“We just have to keep him going for a day or two.” Jeongin chimed in, sounding slightly beaten down.

“What?” Hyunjin blinked, having zoned out for a moment.

“When he gets depressed like this, it only lasts two or three days after the worst day,” The youngest explained. As he talked, looks of realization lit up the other’s faces. Of course they had noticed Chan’s behavior, but hearing it said so plainly made them wonder just how much they actually missed. “If he had this bad of a breakdown, this was probably the worst day for him. Tomorrow he’ll be out of it, but he’ll start to come back.”

“You’re so smart Innie,” Minho sighed, moving over to the bed and patting the youngest on the head softly. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this tired before. Was this how Chan felt all the time? Is this why the older boy had silver lines on his skin and dark bags under his eyes and sadness boarding his smiles? “We have to make it natural though. He can’t suspect we’re doing this on purpose, or he’ll brush it all off.”

“He doesn’t deserve this shit...” Seungmin spat under his breath. Minho knew he should scold the younger boy for cursing, but he felt they all had a pass, considering their current situation. “He works so damn hard and still gets- gets fucked over!”

“That’s why he has us,” Felix sounded as exhausted as Minho felt. “He just... has to remember he can rely on us.”

“He’d have to know that to begin with,” Seungmin sounded bitter, and the others couldn’t exactly blame him for it. “Can’t remember something you never knew.”

“We should all go to sleep,” Changbin pushed himself off the doorframe. “I’ll stay up for a little bit in case hyung wakes up. I have some stuff I wanted to finish.”

“I’ll stay up with you.” Jisung gently pushed Felix off his lap.

“Neither of you should-” Minho scowled before being cut off.

“If he wakes up, he’s less likely to pretend in front of us,” Changbin said. “Even if he’s not... Always the most open, at least he’s a little more used to being relaxed with us.”

“Plus we really do have work to do,” Jisung stood and cracked his back loudly. “We left early today with the plan to go back but then...”

“It’s not like they’re going to be up all that late anyway,” Hyunjin added. “It’s almost three in the morning already, and if Channie hyung is still asleep they can take a nap when the rest of us wake up.”

“Fine, but don’t push yourself too much,” Minho shook his head. He was too damn tired for this shit. “We’re going to need all the help we can get tomorrow.”

“Manager hyung gave us the okay for a day off,” Jisung slipped his phone into his hoodie pocket. “Thankfully he didn’t ask too many questions, but I can tell he’s getting suspicious of how much time we’ve been taking.”

“He was the one giving us so many free afternoons.” Seungmin pointed out.

“Yeah, but we’re asking for extra time,” Jisung frowned. “We have to be more careful... if the company starts digging into this, it might get out of hand.”

“Mm, Sungie’s right.” Felix laid down fully on the bed.

“We can talk more tomorrow,” Hyunjin just wanted to go to sleep. It was going to be another night where they all traded beds, sleeping wherever there was an empty space for them. They used to do it a lot during their trainee years, because so many of them were in and out of the dorms doing extra practices. “We won’t be any use to hyung if we’re all exhausted.”

Hyunjin walked out of the room, not looking back because he knew if he saw his member’s faces, he wouldn’t be able to sleep. The guilt and regret and worry and... fear in their eyes. It made his heart freeze. As he walked past Chan’s room, he noticed it wasn’t as silent as it should be. A soft sound filled the air.

“Hyung?” He whispered, poking his head in.

“Jinnie...” Chan’s voice wavered. Hyunjin realized the sound he heard was soft, almost inaudible sniffles.

“You should go back to sleep.” He slipped into the room, his eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness.

“I’m sorry you had to see me like that,” Chan didn’t sound like himself. “I... I’ve tried so hard to keep you guys away from this.”

“You don’t have to do this alone, hyung.” He sat on the edge of the bed.

“You shouldn’t have had to do that by yourself,” Chan continued, as if Hyunjin hadn’t spoken. Even with his eyes mostly adjusted, Hyunjin couldn’t see Chan’s face. “What kind of hyung am I? You deserve so much better... you all do. I’ve never been good enough for you guys...”

“Close your eyes hyung,” Hyunjin’s voice cracked slightly, his throat suddenly burning, but he refused to let it show. “Want me to stay?”

“Mm,” Chan hummed, scooting over some. Hyunjin took the cue and laid down next to the older boy, letting Chan wrap his arms around his slim waist. Chan hid his face in Hyunjin’s shirt in a way that was too painfully similar to the position they were in earlier. “Thank you.”

“Of course hyung,” Hyunjin held the older boy closer. He could feel Chan’s body relaxing as he drifted back to sleep. Had Chan heard them talking? “We love you... so much.”

But Chan was asleep.

He didn’t hear Hyunjin.

Chapter Text

Chan woke up feeling exhausted. Not the normal kind of exhaustion that always seemed to plague him, but the type of bone deep tiredness that only really hit after intense concert circuits where the only time they had to rest was on the plane between venues or the times they had to keep up appearances for several interviews and game shows and radio slots all in the same day. Those were the times Chan felt the most tired, like his very skin was begging him to stop moving for just a MINUTE-

“Mm, hyung?” A sleepy voice muttered close to his ear. If Chan had been less exhausted, he might have flinched at the sudden proximity. “You awake?”

“Jinnie?” He recognized the voice after a moment. Hyunjin yawned wide, the action shifting both boys - Chan realized he was being held by the younger boy and wondered just how long Hyunjin had been with him.

“Ugh, it’s still so early,” The younger boy grumbled, voice gravelly. “Five more minutes hyung...”

“Go back to sleep,” Chan wiggled his way free, trying to jostle the other boy as little as possible. “I’m going to take a quick shower.”

“Mm okay...” Hyunjin breathed, his eyes already fluttering closed. Chan smiled fondly at him, his heart swelling with affection for the younger.

He grabbed some clean clothes and slipped from the room. The dorm was still silent, the only sounds were that of deep breathing and the fan Jisung always had on for the white noise. It didn’t escape his attention that all the rooms were cracked open.

They never left their doors open, no matter what. His stomach soured when he realized it was probably his fault. Sneaking towards the bathroom, he saw a faint light on in the living room. Peeking his head around, Chan saw Jisung completely engrossed in something he was working on on his laptop, the light from the screen the only thing illuminating the room, with Changbin sleeping peacefully on the younger rapper’s thigh.

Chan frowned. They should be sleeping in their own beds, not on the couch. They deserved better than what he did to himself, so why were Jisung and Changbin in the living room and not asleep where they should be?

Not wanting to disturb them anymore than he probably already had, Chan tiptoed his way to the bathroom and threw his clean clothing to the side so they wouldn’t get wet. Normally he would play music, but with how early in the morning it was, he didn’t want to risk waking anyone up.

They already had to do so much for him. The least he could do was let them rest.

Chan stripped out of yesterday's clothes, grimacing a little at how wrinkled his shirt was - while he wasn’t the type to get too up at arms about wearing clothes more than one day, there was something about fabric that got wet then dried again that made his skin crawl a little.

His grimace deepened when he realized why his shirt had been wet in the first place. How was he going to explain this one to the others? Obviously they were worried - Hyunjin cuddling him and Jisung still being awake were just two things that proved he had disrupted their daily lives with his bullshit.

He hadn’t meant to break down, but something about the softness of Hyunjin’s voice just... made him crack. He felt so fucking tired - he was too young to feel this fucking tired... he wanted it to stop, just for a little bit. He was too young, which meant the others were even worse off. None of them deserved to be stuck with this kind of burden. None of them signed up to be his counselor, or his babysitter. They signed up to be an idol group in which he would be the leader of.

Was he failing them?

He tossed his dirty clothes in the same direction as his clean ones, leaving him in just his boxers as he turned the hot water on. Normally it took a few minutes for the water heater to kick in, but since it was so early it would probably take a little longer.

“What’s wrong with me?” He whispered to himself, the sound of the shower drowning out his words. Looking at himself in the mirror, he wondered when he lost sight of who he was. He wondered when he lost himself.

He didn’t know exactly how much time passed before he snapped out of his thoughts, but it couldn’t have been that long since the mirror was only faintly foggy. Despite how bone tired he was, he knew a shower would make him feel better.

The black slime already seemed to be getting lighter, as though he was slowly digging his way out from the mud. After the day before, he wasn’t all that surprised that he was already feeling better - all it took was one complete and utter breakdown for his emotions to start to regulate themselves again. He really, really hoped this would pass in another day or so, so he could get back to being the leader he promised his fucking friends he would be for them-

He hated this. He hated himself for being like this. He couldn’t even remember when the ups and down started happening, but he knew it wasn’t always like this. At one point, he had been normal - or normally depressed, anxious, and angry all the time. He almost wished he could go back to that, because even though it was unpredictable, it was more manageable - he could hide the bone deep exhaustion and the fiery rage in his gut and the shaking hands better before. Not now though...

Now it seems he can’t stop broadcasting his problems to the entire world.

It really was a wonder that he hadn’t been called out before - either by his members, or management, or Stays. He was spiraling and it seemed there were no breaks for him to pull - no seat belt to keep him safe.

The bathroom began steaming up more and Chan decided it was hot enough. There was a small window of time between the perfectly scalding shower and the water running cold halfway through washing yourself, and he was not in the mood to get hit with ice while his hair was still soapy.

Just as he was about to slip his boxers down, the bathroom door flung open. He couldn’t help but scream a little, the handle of the door slamming against the tiles of the wall so hard he thought he heard a crack. He quickly pulled his boxers back up - more out of instinct than embarrassment, seeing how they had all been naked around each other more than one would initially expect.

“Hyung!” Hyunjin barreled into the bathroom, all but tackling the older boy, who just barely caught them both before they were thrown under the shower’s spray.

“Jinnie?” He choked, the air being knocked out of his lungs for a moment from the impact of a whole person being slammed against his chest.

“Are you okay!?” Hyunjin was frantic, his eyes wide and face pale. “What happened?”

“What?” Chan was thoroughly confused. “I was just... getting a shower...”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Hyunjin pulled away, looking the older boy up and down, biting his lip as if trying to keep himself from crying. The realization of why Hyunjin was acting like this hit Chan like a truck.

Hyunjin was scared Chan was going to hurt himself - or worse - if he went to shower by himself. Hyunjin thought Chan was going to do something dangerous if he was left by himself, and he blamed himself for being too tired to realize what was happening right from the start.

“I’m fine Jinnie,” He said softly, his voice almost drowned out by the running water. A sour feeling bubbled in his stomach, but he stomped it down. Now wasn’t the time for that. “I was just going to wash up and make breakfast.”

“H-hyung...” His voice hitched for a moment before he burst into tears. Chan panicked a little, pulling the younger boy into his chest.

“Hey there,” He tried to sooth the younger boy, but all it seemed to do was make Hyunjin cry even harder. “Hey, why are you crying, huh? Hyung’s right here. I’m okay. Nothing’s wrong.”

“Wh-what if-f I was t-too late?” He said through his sobs, his face twisted. “It w-would b-b-be my f-fault-”

“No! No, no, no Jinnie nothing would be your fault,” Chan was hyper aware that he was practically naked, but he didn’t have the time to get dressed at the moment. His friend needed him, and he wasn’t going to make Hyunjin’s anxiety attack wait for the sake of his own modesty. “I’m fine. It’s okay. Nothing bad happened and nothing bad is going to happen, okay? It’s alright.”

“Please don’t leave me...” Hyunjin whispered, almost inaudibly. If his face hadn’t been buried in Chan’s shoulder, his tears leaving tacky trails on the older boy’s bare skin, Chan wouldn’t have been able to hear his plea over the water.

But he did. Chan did hear Hyunjin, and he felt his heart shattering.

Hyunjin thought Chan was going to leave him? Did he really think Chan would... kill himself? That he would leave Stray Kids alone?

Well, it wasn’t like he was giving them much to go against that, especially after the day before.

He wrapped his arms tightly around the smaller boy, holding him close. Hyunjin sobbed and babbled nonsense that Chan couldn’t understand, but he didn’t let go.

“What’s going on?” Jisung poked his head into the bathroom, having been distracted by the light pouring into the hallway. He had been so engrossed in his work that he had no idea when it had turned on. His eyes widened almost comically at the sight in front of him.

“Hyung!” He all but shouted. “What are you doing awake?”

“I was just going to shower,” He said, trying to keep his voice level to hide the absolute hurricane going on inside him at the moment. All he wanted to do was keep the boys safe, happy and healthy, but it seemed he was doing a fucking awful job of it. “But Jinnie thought I was going to...”

He couldn’t bring himself to say it. Jisung tensed, his face pinching a little.

“Here, get your shower,” Jisung said after a beat. “Jinnie-ya, come sit with me on the couch, okay? We’ll wait for hyung to get out together, and then we can figure out breakfast for everyone.”

“B-but what if-” Hyunjin stuttered, and Chan could see the exhaustion lining the boy’s features. Hyunjin must have still been half asleep as he stumbled towards the bathroom, panic and fatigue battling for his attention.

“He’ll be okay,” Jisung promised, his eyes flickering to Chan for a moment before going back to Hyunjin. “If he’s not out in ten minutes we’ll come in and flush the toilet on him, okay?”

“Mm, okay.” Hyunjin chuckled wetly. It wouldn’t be the first time one of them was punished for showering for too long by having someone sneak in and flush the cold water away, leaving their shoulders a shade of bright cherry red for a few minutes afterwards.

“Ten minutes hyung, okay?” Jisung looked up at Chan, who felt like he was intruding.

“Okay.” His voice felt hollow. Jisung nodded once and led Hyunjin out of the bathroom, the dancer sniffling quietly as Jisung murmured into his ear. As he passed through the doorway, he knocked on the frame with his knuckle and shot Chan a pointed look.

Keep the door open.

Chan nodded again, shame painting his neck. Jisung either didn’t notice, or was kind enough not to mention it, and simply nodded back before leaving entirely.

With a shuddering sigh, Chan stripped and jumped into the shower, the water already cooling off. He told Jisung ten minutes, but he was lucky if he had five minutes worth of hot water left after that.

He quickly scrubbed his hair and face, not wanting to catch the icey tail end of the building’s water. As he washed his body, his fingers slowed over his thigh.

It hadn’t even been a full year, yet the lines were faint enough that maybe - just maybe - they weren’t noticeable at all. Of course, they were glaringly obvious to Chan, who had watched each and every one be carved into his skin - watched red leak from tan and disappear down the drain with a sick sense of satisfaction - but to the others? He hoped they didn’t see them. He didn’t need them thinking him even weaker than he already was.

He quickly rinsed off, the hair on his arms starting to stand on end at the sudden drop in temperature. He hopped out of the shower and quickly dried himself, hoping to warm himself up some to no avail.

“At least I grabbed warm clothes...” He muttered to himself as he slipped on the sweatpants and oversized sweater. The clothes made him look even smaller, the sweater all but drowning him in the knit pattern.

He stepped out of the bathroom to see the dorm still dark. It had been maybe twenty minutes since he walked out of his room, yet it felt like hours. There was a light coming from the kitchen, and he could hear soft voices talking as he tossed his dirty laundry into his open room and made his way over.
Changbin was still fast asleep on the couch, his mouth open slightly as he held a cushion to his chest like a stuffed animal. The sighed made Chan’s chest warm a little.

“Here hyung,” Jisung’s voice broke Chan from his internal cooing. He blinked and took whatever was being handed to him without a second thought. He slipped into the kitchen so he could properly see what was going on, realizing that the younger rapper had handed him a mug of steaming tea. “How’re you feeling?”

“Better,” Chan didn’t drink the tea just yet. Instead, he let the heat soak into his fingers for a moment, savoring the warmth through his sweater sleeves that covered his hands so comfortably. “Still tired, but better.”

He didn’t want to lie to them anymore. He was too tired to lie anymore.

“Sorry for barging in like that,” Hyunjin said from the table. His eyes were a little red, but he seemed to be calmer and more awake. A half empty cup of tea sat in front of him. “I was just... worried.”

“I’m sorry for making you worry,” His chest ACHED. How could he be so selfish as to make his own members AFRAID for him? He should be doing better. He should be BETTER- “I didn’t mean to-”

“Hyung, do you understand why we’re upset?” Jisung cut him off, and in a way Chan was grateful for that. He wasn’t sure what he was about to say, but he was certain it wouldn’t have been pleasant.

“I never wanted you guys to know,” Chan sighed and sat across from Hyunjin. “I thought I could handle it on my own... you don’t deserve to be- be burdened by my bulllshit like this...”

“Did you ever think about what we want?” Jisung said, a bit of an edge to his voice, which made Chan’s shoulders curl in on themselves slightly. Hyunjin saw Chan shrink down and turned to say something to the other rapper, only to be cut off before he had the chance. “Did you really think we wanted to watch you practically go insane? That we liked feeling absolutely helpless? Did you think we wanted to watch you hurt yourself like this-”

“I haven’t done that in months.” Chan said without thinking. The moment the words were out of his mouth, his heart stopped. Jisung and Hyunjin both froze, staring at Chan as if they had never seen the older boy before. Chan’s stomach dropped when they both turned away - he recognized the look on their faces. It said ‘we knew but we didn’t want it confirmed’.

“The others are worried too.” Jisung said after a moment. Chan closed his eyes and took a deep breath, not wanting to have this conversation. He never thought he would have this talk with his members, because he always promised himself he would never slip up enough for them to notice.

Seems that was just another promise he broke.

“I’m sorry.” He didn’t know what else to say. His fingers shook around the mug, but at least his sleeves hid that much, even if he couldn’t hide the rest.

“We’re sorry we didn’t say anything sooner,” Jisung noticed how Chan seemed to get tenser and tenser as they talked, as if the elder was expecting to be hit.

“We... we didn’t want to cross any lines, cuz you’re our leader and our hyung. We didn’t want to make you upset, but maybe if we had said something sooner it wouldn’t have gotten this bad...”

“It’s not your fault-” Chan said instantly, looking up for the first time since sitting down.

“You always do that,” Jisung cut him off again. “When it’s you, you never seem to care but as soon as it’s us you’re... why don’t you ever care about yourself like this?”

“You’re just more important,” Chan said with such complete and utter honesty that both of the younger boys felt their heart break. “You know I’d do anything for you.”

“Hyung, you can’t-” Hyunjin tried to speak, only to be interrupted by Jeongin shuffling into the kitchen, his hair sticking straight up and his eyes half swollen from sleep.

“Mornin’...” He grumbled as he sat heavily next to Chan. He instantly rested his chin on the table, his eyes falling shut again.

“Why are you awake so early?” Chan asked with a small smile.

“Couldn’t go back to sleep,” He yawned wide. “Had a bad dream...”

“A nightmare?” Chan sat up straighter, his face twisting in concern. “Did you want to talk about it?”

“No, it’s okay,” Jeongin yawned again. “I barely remember it anymore.”

“Here, drink this,” Chan handed the youngest the mug of tea he hadn’t taken a single sip out of. “You’ll feel better one you get some sugar in your system.”

“Thanks hyung...” Jeongin took the mug without a second thought.

“Sungie and Jinnie made it,” Chan wasn’t going to take credit that wasn’t his. “If you ask nicely, I’m sure they’ll make you some breakfast too.”

“Hyung, that was yours-” Hyunjin was cut off by a gentle smile.

“Thanks guys,” He said, his eyes turning up. “I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me. Really.”

“Hyung, you can’t just-” Jisung tried this time, only to be cut off the same as Hyunjin.

“I should call the manager,” Chan stood, rubbing his eyes with his sleeve. “Gotta make sure he isn’t freaking out about anything.”

“But-”

“If you need anything, let me know, okay?” Chan turned to the three, not acknowledging the two looks of betrayal aimed in his direction. “There should be eggs in the fridge if you wanted to make omelettes.”

“Hyung-!”

Chan slipped from the kitchen as quickly as he could. He couldn’t handle being looked at like that anymore - like he was going to burst into flames or tears at any given moment. He loved that they cared for him, but just the fact that he was so weak as to let them know he needed support sat like a rock in the middle of his chest.

Their comeback stage was in one week, and he needed to be the leader they deserved - he couldn’t fail them again.

“Chris.”

“What’s up Lix?” Chan turned to the freckled boy, who just smiled slightly at his friend.

“Cuddle with me?”

“Of course.” Chan returned the smile. Through the day, the members seemed to be walking on eggshells around him, and it was driving him insane. This was the exact opposite of what he wanted to happen! This was why he tried to hide everything!

The idea of cuddling with Felix for a little bit removed some of the weight pressing down on him. The other Australian somehow knew exactly what Chan needed, be it an excuse to get out of a conversation, or something sweet after a long day, or a strong hug that lasted a few minutes.

They went to their room and climbed into Chan’s bed. It was the softest in the dorm, ever since the manager gave Chan a special foam layer in the hopes that it would help the eldest sleep a little better. It didn’t work as he wanted it to, but at least the other members enjoyed the softness.

“Come here Pixie.” Chan said softly, opening his arms. Felix curled against his chest, his small frame somehow folding in on itself. They laid in silence for a moment, the only sounds were their breathing and their hearts.

“Chris?”

“Mm?”

“We love you,” His voice was low and soft, his words sending vibrations through Chan’s chest. “No matter what happens, we’re always gonna love you.”

“I love you too Lix.” He smiled.

“You’d do anything for us, right?”

“Of course,” He held Felix closer and felt his chest lighten. The younger boy felt like... home. “Anything.”

“We’d do the same.”

“Huh?”

“We’d do anything for you,” Felix wiggled a little so he could look Chan in the eyes. “I mean it. We’d do everything.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Chan chuckled. “Just leave it to me, okay? I’ll take care if you.”

“Even if it means disbanding,” Felix’s voice dropped to a whisper, and Chan’s stomach fell through the floor. “We’ve talked about it... if it meant you’d be okay and happy and healthy... we wouldn’t mind disbanding for you.”

“You can’t talk like that,” Chan tried to sit up, but Felix was holding onto him. “Lix, seriously. You’ve all worked too hard to think about disbanding. Especially not for me-”

“Why can’t you just let us love you?” He tried his best, but Felix couldn’t hold back the tears. He was just so- so frustrated. It was so painfully clear that Chan cared for Stray Kids more than anything in the world, and that he was willing to destroy himself for the happiness of the members, but he never once let them return the favor. He never let them help him in the same way, and it was infuriating because Chan deserved to be loved just as much. He deserved to receive the same level of love as he gave out. “Why do you keep pushing us away?”

“Because I don’t want to hurt you,” Chan found himself saying, and for once it was the truth. “I don’t want to be the reason something bad happens.” He didn’t verbally say ‘again’, but he knew it was heard.

“Innie’s been having nightmares.” Felix whispered after a moment.

“Mm, he said he had one this morning but he couldn't remember what it was about. I hope it isn’t something that happens a lot...”

“He lied,” Felix wriggled to hide his face more, as if he were afraid Chan would vanish if he didn’t press every inch of his body against the older boy. “He remembers. He always does.”

“What do you mean ‘always’?”

“He’s had them almost every night for the last week,” Felix felt guilty spilling the younger boy’s secret, but he had the feeling this might be enough to get through to Chan. If he was right, and he was able to make some progress, Felix would accept Jeongin’s wrath later. “We’ve all found him crying at least once.”

“What?” Chan tried to sit up again but Felix held him down. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

“His nightmares are about... you killing yourself,” Felix’s mouth tasted sour. The image of their youngest sobbing, begging them not to say anything to Chan seemed branded into Felix’s mind. “Chris... we love you so much. You can’t leave us.”

“I-I would n-never...” Chan felt as though Felix had punched him straight in the stomach.

“It’s scary hyung,” Felix switched back to Korean. “Sometimes... sometimes I wonder if you’re going to come back from the studio at all, or if the last time I see you that day is going to be the last time ever.”

“Felix-”

“And I know it wouldn’t be on purpose,” Felix continued softly. “But when you get depressed, or manic... you kinda do reckless things. I’m scared that you’ll- you’ll accidentally do something and it’ll g-go too far and th-that I’ll lose my b-best friend...”

He buried his face in Chan’s shirt, letting the fabric soak up his tears. Chan was completely frozen, his body seeming to have malfunctioned.

Did Felix really think he would...?

Did the others think...?

Would he actually do it...?

“Please...” Felix’s voice was even deeper from the tears. “Please let us help you. We can’t lose you...”

“I’m so sorry Lix,” His own words cracked. “I never thought I’d... I never meant to scare you like this.”

“Just stop pushing us away.”

“Lix, I don’t-”

“Please?” Felix finally sat up, and Chan was able to see the absolute heartbreak on the younger boy’s face. It was worse than when he was eliminated, the absolute fear in his watery eyes. “Please, Chris. We need you.”

“I’ll... I’ll try,” It was the best he could do. “I can’t promise, because I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I broke it, but I’ll try to let you help me...”

“Thank you,” Felix threw his arms around Chan’s neck, wrapping his legs around the elder’s waist as he did so. He clung to his friend like a baby koala, refusing to let go. “Thank you hyung...”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he rubbed Felix’s back, desperately holding back his own tears. “Please don’t thank me...”

The two stayed like that for a while, and if Seungmin poked his head in to tell them lunch was ready and saw them sleeping?

Well, he would just turn the light off and leave the door open just a crack.

Chapter Text

“Hyung, did you eat?” Seungmin asked Chan, who was dozing off on the couch of the dorm. Three days had passed since the incident in the studio, and Chan was feeling... better, in a sense. He could get out of bed with minimal strain and he was able to stomach light meals.

“Mm, thanks Minnie.” Chan hummed. Minho had made sure to give him some scrambled eggs that morning, knowing fully well the older boy wouldn't have fed himself otherwise.

“Something wrong hyung?” Jisung sat next to Chan on the couch as Seungmin left the living room, instantly pulling his legs up under him.

“Nah,” He said immediately before relenting to the look the younger was giving him. “I mean, I think I’m fine?”

In the last three days, the others had been on his case about him being honest with them. Hyunjin, Minho, Changbin and Seungmin were more vocal about calling him out when he started to act like nothing was wrong, while Jisung, Felix, and Jeongin were more devious and knew just the right puppy dog eyes to make him crack.

“What do you mean?”

“I should be feeling more normal, but something’s off,” Chan had a hard time opening up as it was, but he was finding it even more impossible now that he had no idea what was going on in the first place. He had just started getting used to the schedule his emotional roller coasters would take, and now it was going off script. “Like, I know what I should be feeling, but this isn’t it.”

“How’re you supposed to be feeling?” Jisung asked, pressing but not too invasive.

“Normally I’d be tired, but I’d feel more... I can’t think of any way to describe it except normal. Like, if my ups are a ten and my downs are a one, I should be at a four or five now but I’m not.”

“Where are you at then?”

“I can’t tell,” He pulled his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his knees, his face twisting in frustration. “That’s what’s bothering me the most. I feel... unstable, I guess.”

“Well, you don’t have to handle it on your own anymore,” Jisung let himself fall to the side, his head resting on Chan’s shoulder comfortably. “Whatever happens, we’ll be right here to help you.”

“Mm, thanks Sungie...” Chan’s throat stung a little but he didn’t let it show.

“Is it still that hard to let us in?” The younger boy’s voice was soft but it still felt like a punch.

“Yeah,” He admitted, his voice equally as soft. “I feel guilty for being so honest.”

“That’s okay,” Jisung sat up and gently shoved Chan down onto his back before crawling on top of the older boy and settling against his chest. Jisung had never been the most outright with his skinship, not like Felix and Hyunjin tended to be, but Chan found the younger boy to be a little more clingy as of late.

Chan wrapped his arms around Jisung and let his eyes flutter close for a moment. He knew they would have to get up soon, but Jisung was so warm and his weight against Chan’s body was oddly comforting. “It takes work. We have time.”

“Mm, we do.” Chan smothered a yawn. The wrong feeling in the core of his stomach seemed to wriggle a little, but he did his best to ignore it. Jisung’s breath against his neck tickled and gave him something to focus on.

Before long, he was falling into a light sleep, the beat of Jisung’s heart falling into line with his as he drifted off.

“Seungmin, it’s a left step off.” Chan said for the third time that practice. He didn’t mean for his tone to sound clipped, but again - it was the THIRD time he had to remind the younger boy that the combination started on the left foot.

“Ah, sorry hyung...” Seungmin muttered, looking ashamed. Chan slumped his shoulders a little, hating how sad Seungmin seemed.

“It’s not your fault,” He patted the boy on the back. “It’s hard to remember since we normally start on the right. It’s just something we need to practice enough to get it stuck in our muscle memory, yeah?”

“Mm.” Seungmin nodded, his face a little less pinched.

Chan jogged over and started the song over again, waiting for everyone to get into position. He hated getting tense with the other boy’s but for some reason it felt like there was something choking him, making him more irritable for no goddamn reason, and it was driving him insane. The more they messed up, and the more problems there were with the comeback, and more hours he ended up staring at his ceiling rather than sleeping only added to this choking feeling pressing down on him.

Maybe it was because the comeback was in just a few days, and there were still mistakes being made. Maybe it was because the company had started getting on their manager’s ass about how much time off they’d been having. Maybe it was because he had been having more trouble than usual falling asleep, despite this being what was supposed to be his normal period. Maybe it was a combination of all of the above, but regardless of the actual reason, Chan was finding himself more and more irritable, and it was starting to affect the others.

They ran through the song again, and Chan noticed how Seungmin managed to get the footing right that time. Letting out a breath, he nodded towards the boys once the music ended and began to loop again.

“That’s enough for today,” He said, sounding exhausted. The others looked the way he felt - sweaty and panting and eyes glassy from how hard they’ve been working. “You can head back to the dorms to shower and order dinner.”

“What about you hyung?” Jeongin asked, and Chan cursed how his maknae seemed to express his emotions so perfectly. He couldn’t have let the elder know how worried he was any more clearer, even if he vocalized it outright.

“I got some ideas for some songs,” He said honestly. “I still have a little motivation so I want to get at least some of them down before I forget it all.”

“Are you going to be okay all by yourself?” Minho asked and Chan tensed.

“Of course,” He smiled, and he internally wondered if anyone could tell how tight it was - they seemed to be onto him, but sometimes he was able to slip things past him. They exchanged glances but no one said anything, which Chan took as a win. “I promise I won’t be too long. Two hours, three tops.”

“One of us will come and get you for dinner.” Changbin said, almost hesitantly.

“Sounds good.” Chan hoped he would be able to get some work done. His body still felt... wrong, like his skin was just a smidge too loose on his frame. He watched them pack up and file from the practice room, waiting for them to all leave before turning the computer and lights off, as he always did.

“We’ll see you soon hyung.” Felix gave the older boy a quick side hug as the seven walked towards the elevators down. Chan watched them leave for a moment before turning towards the staircase. His studio was just one floor above the practice rooms, so he never felt the need to take the elevator up.

The floor was silent when he opened the stairwell door, but that was how he liked it. The rooms were soundproof, but that didn’t guarantee no sound at all would escape. Sometimes the muffled thudding of bass, or the faint whispers of vocals would leak out from under the doors, and when he was already on edge, that would be enough to push him over.

Walking towards his studio, he hummed the tune that had been playing in his head for the last few hours. Their comeback was only days away, but he was already thinking about the next one - the more he planned ahead, the less stress the other members would be under. If he got a head start on the songs and the theme, by the time they actually had to focus on making the music they already had a base.

It was exactly as he remembered it, not that he was all that surprised. Technically it was just a practice room, but everyone in the company seemed to accept that Chan had claimed it as his own. Jisung had even once jokingly put a post-it on the door that read ‘CB97 Genius in Progress’. It had been taken down the next day, most likely by the maintenance workers, but Chan enjoyed the thought of having the room actually be his.

Four days. That’s the longest he had ever been away from his studio, other than when they were promoting. The last time he had been there had been the day Hyunjin found him - a day he’d like to forget, but for some reason it was one of the few things his brain decided to burn into the back of his eyelids.

Setting up his computer, Chan let out a breath. This was familiar to him - it was safe. He plugged in the small keyboard and booted up his programs, his fingers already tapping out the melody before he could even open a new project.

He felt wrong, like there was some sort of creature hibernating in his chest, and it was starting to wake up. Claws were being dug into his lungs and teeth were being buried in his guts and something was so WRONG-

“Fuck...” He growled slamming his hand down on the keyboard. The dissonant chord that played through his headphones made him jump, the sound like a knife through his skull. His lip curled back in a grimace and he fought the urge to throw something at the wall. He knew it wouldn't do much, seeing how the walls were padded, but he still held himself back.

He wasn’t going to lose control. He was fine. He was okay.

He didn’t understand where this aggression was coming from, but he felt like he was going to explode.

“I have to get my shit together,” He sighed, slumping in his seat. “I can’t let myself freak out on any of the guys...”

The thought of screaming at any of his kids made his blood run cold. For some reason, the image of Felix’s wide eyes, shining with tears as Chan sees the reflection of his own rage-twisted face flashed in his mind and he thought he was going to throw up.

Chan had never been a violent person. Even when he was younger and would fight with his parents, he never stayed mad for long. When he would be teased, he preferred to walk away because confronting them was too much effort for something so small. Even when he was in his worst possible mood, he found time to step aside and take a breather. He had only really snapped at his members a handful of times, and each of those times were genuinely because they were doing something bad - the most was when he had to yell at Jisung and Hyunjin, who were constantly at each other’s throats before their debut.
He had never been a violent person, so what was this anger? Where was this rage, bubbling under his too loose skin, coming from?

It scared him.

“The gym.” He said to the empty walls. He just needed to blow off some steam, that was all. If he worked out for a little while, he could get this aggression out and then he wouldn’t be a danger to his friends.

Was he a danger?

He didn’t know where this was coming from. Even when he was in those moods where he felt like he could fight god, he never once felt like he was a threat to those around him. In fact, he was only ever a threat to himself, and he found he liked it that way. He liked being reckless and doing dangerous things, but never once did those things extend to anyone other than himself.

He didn’t bother to pack up his things - he was just going to the gym for a little while. Even with his impromptu workout, he would still have plenty of time to do some composing before the others came to fetch him for dinner.

It worked out perfectly. He would burn the aggression away, get some work done, and still be back to the dorm to have dinner with the others. His chest seemed to lighten a little as he made his way down to the gym on the ground floor.

As usual, the facilities were fairly empty at this point in the day. Most employees (idols in particular) used the gym either first thing in the morning, before practices, or late at night, after practices. Chan saw one person using the treadmill, but they had their headphones in and seemed to have been working for a while, if the sweat stain on the back of their shirt said anything.

He made his way over to the punching bag that was dangling from the ceiling just to the left of the weights. Boxing wasn’t something many idols did, seeing how much of their exercise focused on building muscle, flexibility, and stamina, but it was useful for moments like this, where someone desperately needed to punch something.

There was a small box on the wall that housed the chalk powder for the weights, as well as the fabric tape for the punching bag. With practice movements, Chan began wrapping his knuckles, making sure the tape was tight but not so tight that it would cut off his circulation.

He remembered the one time, when he was still a trainee, that he had been caught going at the punching bag bare handed. Jackson had come by and physically yanked him away from the bag - Chan’s ears had been buzzing so loudly that he could barely hear the older boy all but yelling at him. He hadn’t come back to his senses until he felt the stinging of disinfectant on his split knuckles. He couldn’t even remember why he had been so upset that he lost control like that, but he did remember what Jackson had told him about boxing after that.

Sticking his headphones in, he put on his playlist - each song hand picked to be so loud that they chased away anything he might try to think, until the only thing in his skull was the pumping bass - and took a deep breath.

An hour, no more, he told himself as he got into his starting position. He found himself falling into a rhythm, his fists hitting the bag in time with the music, the different songs giving him different speeds and intensities behind his blows. After a handful of songs, he could feel the weight in his chest start to lighten a little more.

Just a few more minutes, and he would go back up to the studio and get some work done, he told himself, completely ignoring the blinding pain that would shoot up his forearms with every hit. His hands would be fine - the bruises under the tape would heal and if not he could always ask the stylists to give him gloves. There hadn’t been a comeback in what felt like ages where gloves were out of place.

The music kept playing, so Chan kept hitting, the fire in his stomach barely being quenched no matter how much of his weight he threw behind it.

He didn’t notice he was crying until one of his headphones fell out and the sound of his screams echoed off the silent gym walls. He froze, panting and twitching slightly. Glancing around, he realized he was completely and utterly alone. He had no idea how long he had been boxing, or when he started crying.

He fell to his knees, collapsing into a sweaty pile on the floor.

What was wrong with him? What was happening to him!?

It was like the time where the fireworks under his skin made him feel like he was insane, but somehow worse - it was like the electricity wanted him to lash out at others rather than hurt himself. Almost like it WANTED him to get violent.

The thought scared him more than anything.

He just... had to be careful. Watch his temper and think about what he says twice before saying it. Like all the other times, he just had to wait this out and soon he would be back to normal, and then he wouldn’t have to worry about being a threat to anyone.

“Fuck...” He keened quietly, covering his face with his hands. He didn’t care about his tears soaking into the wrapping, because it was already soiled with sweat and blood.

He was broken, wasn’t he? He was fucked up, and he was going to be the reason that Stray Kids fails. How did he not see this before? Of course it’s going to be his fault, he had been told right to his face that he would be their downfall.

“You really think you’ll succeed without me?”

“The next comeback is going to flop and it’ll be your fault.”

“Stray Kids never stood a chance, and now that I’m leaving, you’re as good as disbanded.”

Chan sobbed harder, the voice in his head sounding painfully like someone he wished he could just forget about already.

He just wanted to FORGET-

“HYUNG!” A new voice bounced off the gym walls. Chan just curled in tighter on himself, not wanting anyone to see him like this. He was a mess, and he probably looked about as bad as he felt. He was supposed to be their leader, but what was the last time he actually did anything or any of them? When was the last time he actually acted like a real fucking leader-

“Oh fuck, his hands-”

“Hyung? Can you hear me?”

Chan slowly looked up, meeting the concerned gazes of Changbin and Jisung, who looked equal parts worried and horrified.

“Hyung?” Jisung knelt next to Chan, who had started to tremble faintly. He reached out, as if to put a hand on the older boy’s arm, but stopped himself. Something told him Chan wouldn’t be the most receptive to being touched at that moment.

“Dinner’s on its way to the dorms,” Changbin said softly, crouching on Chan’s other side, the bag on his back slipping to the side. “There should be time for you to shower before it gets there if we head back now.”

“We ordered your favorite, from that Japanese place,” Jisung continued, keeping his tone light. They could see how Chan was starting to relax a little, the more they talked to him calmly. “Innie-ah tricked us into ordering bubble tea with it, so we got you the regular kind. Is that okay?”

“Mm.” Chan nodded once, his head feeling too heavy. He couldn’t even bring himself to scowl, despite not being all that fond of the original milk tea, but he understood it was the safest option when you didn’t know what someone wanted.

He knew this, yet it still sparked irritation in his chest. They knew his meal order, but not his boba order? They couldn’t have been bothered to call? Or come to get him earlier?

“We would have asked you earlier, but I guess you had your phone on do not disturb, and when we went to check the studio, it was empty.” Jisung continued.

“It took us a little while to figure out where you were, so we just told Minnie to order what we said,” Changbin continued, not noticing the blank look on the older boy’s face. “We packed your things up for you.”

“Here, let’s go home.” Jisung grabbed Chan’s arm and helped him stand, and Chan just let him. As much as he would have loved to just sit on the floor and not move for a couple of hours he knew he would have to do something soon.

He barely noticed the walk back to the dorms. His knuckles throbbed in time with his steps and he was suddenly so tired that he wanted to throw up. The scent of food smacked him right in the face the second the door opened and the urge to vomit only doubled. He hadn’t eaten much that day, but his stomach decided it didn’t want to sit still. It felt like he had swallowed snakes, and they were trying to escape.

“Here hyung, this one's yours.” Hyunjin said, pointing to the meal and drink that had been set out on the coffee table. Normally, they didn’t get to eat all together due to their own personal schedules, but when they did, they would gather in the living room and crowd the couch, not caring if things got a little messy.

“Thanks Jinnie.” Chan mumbled, feeling queasy. He opened the take out container and let the steam hit him in the face. He wasn’t hungry, so why was everyone staring at him like he was going to pass out? Why couldn’t they just leave him alone? Didn’t he deal with enough? He couldn’t even go to his room to nap.

“So.... any progress on those songs?” Minho asked, trying to get the conversation rolling - the meal had been silent up until this point, everyone constantly glancing at Chan, who was staring at his bowl more than eating from it.

“Not really,” His voice was robotic. The others flinched a little, not liking how dead the older boy sounded. It was a bad sign, but they weren’t sure what to do.

“I, uh, ended up going to the gym to do some boxing. I couldn’t concentrate.”

“It’s too early for you to go manic, isn’t it?” Jeongin asked, instantly noticing how the question made Chan’s lip curl a little. He wanted to take it back, but it was too late - the words hung in the air like a death sentence.

“Jeongin, maybe we should-” Seungmin started, only to be cut off by Chan abruptly standing.

“Hyung?” Changbin looked up at Chan from his seat on the couch.

“I’m going to shower.” He muttered, his bangs covering his face. Why couldn’t he breathe?

“Wait hyung, you barely ate anything-” Felix reached out and grabbed Chan’s hand, not realizing the tape still wrapped around the elder’s knuckles had turned a dark brown.

“Fuck-” Chan shouted, pain shooting up his arm as Felix gripped at the splits in his sensitive skin. At the exclamation, Felix only held on tighter, most likely out of shock if nothing else, but Chan couldn’t rationalize that. He turned to the younger boy, eyes burning. “God Felix! I’m just going to shower! You all need to get off my fucking ass!”

His shout seemed to echo through the silent dorm. Chan tried to take a breath but found he couldn’t - found that the air in his lungs was stale and choking him. Looking around, he saw the seven pairs of frightened eyes glued to him and knew he was going to throw up for real this time. He shook Felix off, biting back a whimper when he felt the skin of his knuckles crack open again from the sudden movement.

Without another word, Chan stormed from the living room. As he walked, he unraveled the tape around his knuckles, throwing the bloody mound in the general direction of his trash can. His skin was purple and throbbing, but it was as if he could barely even feel it. He grabbed the first clean clothing he saw and rushed to the bathroom, the shame and regret starting to make his throat close.

In the bathroom, he made sure to lock the door tight and turn the shower on before curling up in a ball, back against the tub. He tried to hide his sobs, but they continued to trip over each other, almost desperate to escape his fucked up body.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?” He asked the bathroom, the steam from the shower already fogging the mirror up. “Why did I do that?”

His mind screamed at him in that oh so familiar voice.

“I told you you’d never be good enough.”

“As if you’d be able to lead anyone.”

“What kind of leader cuts himself, hm? You’re lucky I’m such a good person. Otherwise I’d tell everyone - the members, the company... the media.”

“Do us all a favor and leave already. Maybe killing yourself will bring Stray Kids some sort of fame, since you couldn’t do it with your shitty music.”

He couldn’t remember what had actually been said to him, and what his brain was inventing to cut him as deep as possible. There had been so many fights, and so many biting words thrown between himself and Woojin. He regretted so many things, but one thing he regretted above letting him into the group in the first place was letting him get in his mind and turn Chan’s own thoughts against him.

He tried to breathe, but couldn’t. The thick air seemed to stick in his throat, choking him and making his vision blur around the edges. He thought he could hear someone crying, but he genuinely couldn’t tell if it was real, or if he was just hearing things. He could stop this, but-

“I c-can’t...” He said to himself, trying to convince the voice to leave him alone.

He could. He could see where the little box was hidden, in the back of the medicine cabinet, clear as day. No one thought to open it, because it wasn’t theirs and they were close enough that there was no point in snooping around. Besides, what secrets could Chan’s sleeping medication box hold? They all knew he took them, even if they didn’t help.

What they didn’t know is that Chan ran out of those pills months ago, nearly a full year ago, and he never bothered to refill the prescription. They didn’t know that there was something hidden in the box, under the empty pill sheet.

Chan stood and reached for the cabinet with a shaking hand. He can’t. He can’t do this, not now. Not after he had worked so hard to stay clean.

But he couldn’t breathe.

He was so close to a full year. He can’t fuck that up.

But he couldn’t breathe!

This would pass, if he just stayed strong. If he just took his shower and went to bed, he would feel fine when he woke up, and he wouldn’t be throwing all his progress out the window-

But he couldn’t FUCKING BREATHE-

Chan grabbed the box and tipped it over, not even wincing as the cold metal of the blade hit the overly warm skin of his palm.

Such a small piece of metal, yet it holds so much power. Chan had written so many songs, so many raps, about his struggle with self-harm, but he hadn’t shown any of it to anyone. That was one part of him they didn’t need to know about. They didn’t need to know that he still struggled with the urge to rip his skin open. They didn’t need to know that their leader imagined the feeling of the blood running down his leg, the crimson almost feeling cold against his skin.

This side of him wasn’t something anyone needed to be burdened with.

He could still flush the blade. He didn’t need it. He didn’t need it. He didn’t need it-

The first swipe was enough to open his lungs back up again. It was shallow, and short, but it was enough to kick start his breathing.

He looked down at the single mark in horror. After all this time...

He was a failure, that’s all there was to it. He was a failure, and now he had physical proof that he was unsalvageable.

He could still flush the blade. He could bandage the singular cut and pretend nothing ever happened. Maybe he could even trick himself into thinking he was still almost a year clean - it was practically scratch, right? It was barely even bleeding. He was still clean, right? He wasn’t a massive fuck up...

Right?

“What’s the fucking point?” He choked out, tears stinging the cut where they fell. He watched the blood mix with the tears and run down his leg, dripping onto the tiles below him as the shower continued to fill the room with steam.

There was no point. He was a failure, and he wanted to feel again. He wanted things to be normal again, and to him, normal was hurting.

So he made a second cut, this one a little longer and a little deeper. The pain shot up his thigh like a bolt of lightning, making him bite back a scream. He had done worse, but it had been such a long time. It was almost like his body had forgotten what it felt like to give into the sharp embrace of the blade.

By the time he stumbled into the shower, the water was cold and his thigh was beautifully decorated with more than a dozen lines, all of different depths and lengths. He left a bloody footprint on the tiles as he went, but he would deal with that later.

His head felt light, and his chest lighter. It was like he was able to breathe properly for the first time in months - for the first time in what felt like a whole year. Red ran down the drain like a macabre painting, and Chan almost wished it would stain the white of the tub, if just so it wouldn’t wash away quite so quickly.

It was fine, though. He could just repaint it another day.

Once the worst of the bleeding stopped, he got out of the shower and dried off, not caring that he was staining his towel. With practiced movements, he taped gauze from the first aid kit over the cuts, basking in the familiar throbbing that accompanied them. The bandaging, the cleaning, the hiding... it was all so familiar to him.

It was familiar. It was safe.

He felt at home. The thought should scare him, but it didn’t. He just felt at ease.

Chan left the bathroom, not a single hint of what he had done left behind. Despite how fuzzy his head was, he was meticulous in his aftercare.

He heard someone calling his name, but he couldn’t focus. He was so tied. His knuckles hurt, and his thigh hurt, but at least his chest didn't. At least his lungs were working again, and he wasn’t choking on air anymore.

Chan fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, a small smile on his lips.

Chapter Text

Chan woke up feeling oddly rested. For the first time in what seemed like decades, he was able to open his eyes without them stinging painfully with exhaustion. He rolled over and hissed silently. His leg throbbed, the sudden pressure of his whole body weight was enough to remind him of the previous night’s events. He sat up carefully, trying to ignore the familiar sense of satisfaction as the feeling of warmth soaking into the bandage hit him. He must have reopened some of the cuts by moving.

His stomach dropped. How was he going to face the others? They were just trying to take care of him, and he snapped at them - he yelled at FELIX. His biggest nightmare come true, and now he was going to have to crawl back to them, asking for forgiveness-

Actually, no. Why should he apologize? It was clear as day that he wasn’t in a good mood. He had done everything in his power to keep a level head, and they pushed him over the edge. They were the ones that wouldn’t let up, even when it was obvious that he needed to get away and be alone for a little bit. They were the ones that pushed him, so why should he be the one to apologize?

There was something sitting on his chest, but it wasn’t quite suffocating him. In fact, it seemed to be urging him to do something - to do what, he wasn’t sure yet, though he was certain he would find out soon enough.

He glanced around and saw he was alone in the room, both Changbin and Felix’s beds perfectly made. Did they sleep in their own beds? Or were they too afraid of Chan, and crashed in someone else’s?

He squashed down the small vine of jealousy that started to crawl up his spine. Sure, it was nice when one of his members snuck into his bed and slept with him, but they rarely did it. They probably avoided waking Chan and taking away what little sleep their leader already got, but even if they didn’t mean to, it made him feel even more isolated.

Made him feel even more distant from the others.

Chan made his way out of the bedroom. The instant his door opened, the faint chatter stopped dead. He glanced towards the living room, where he could see the others gathered, but paid them no mind.

Instead of acknowledging the other boys, Chan went straight to the bathroom. It was a little dirty, but he couldn’t remember whose turn it was to clean. Was it him? He had just done it a little while ago, but then again a little while ago to him could be a week or several months, or any time in between. Time really didn’t mean much to him anymore.

Slipping off his sweatpants, he looked at the reddened gauze with a blank face. He had thought it several times already, but he couldn’t help but note how familiar it all was. A year hiatus wasn’t enough to erase all the years of muscle memory he had built up. His hands moved on their own, peeling the medical tape off his skin and wrapping the bloody gauze tightly in toilet paper before burying it in the trash, where it wouldn’t be seen. He wiped the fresh blood away - he had been right, three of the cuts had started lazily beading up again - and threw the evidence into the toilet. He rebangaded the cuts and continued with his morning routine, brushing his teeth and washing his face. He flushed the toilet before leaving, glancing over the bathroom to ensure there was nothing left behind.

No crimson stood out against white tile. Of course there wasn’t - Chan was too thorough.

“Morning hyung,” Minho said as Chan walked into the kitchen. The elder jumped a little at being addressed. He honestly thought they were going to ignore him, or be angry. “There’s still some fried rice in the pan.”

“Thanks...” He muttered in return. He wasn’t hungry, but he knew he needed to eat - just like he wasn’t going to apologize, even though he knew he probably should.

“Did you sleep well hyung?” Seungmin asked, and Chan tensed more. Why was Seunmgin caring about his health making his eyes sting? Why did he still care after what Chan did the night before?

“Mm.” He hummed, shoveling a bite of fried rice in his mouth to avoid giving a proper response. He didn’t really want to talk to anyone.

“We should head out soon,” Hyunjin said, almost hesitantly. “We have the practice room reserved until eleven tonight, so we have plenty of time to practice.”

“Mm.” A collective agreement rang out, but Chan remained silent. He took another bite and put the bowl down. He wasn’t hungry.

He didn’t feel the need to change, seeing how he was already wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, so he just needed to grab his stuff and he would be good to go. He went back to his room, only to freeze when he realized that closing the door behind him had him and Felix alone together. The air was heavy, neither boy looking at the other. Neither spoke.

Chan took a step forward, reaching out to grab his bag - the one that held his composing stuff that Changbin had packed up for him the night before and he never unpacked - when the worst thing imaginable happened.

Felix flinched away from Chan, his entire body contracting as if making himself smaller would save him. Chan stared at Felix, hand still outstretched and mouth open the slightest bit in pure shock. Felix blinked a few times before bowing his head and mumbling something as he scurried from the room, leaving

Chan alone once again.

Chan felt himself trembling. Felix... Felix flinched away from him. Did Felix think Chan was going to- going to HIT him? The very notion that the younger boy would think for even a MOMENT that Chan would physically lay a hand on any of them...

He couldn’t stop the emotionless chuckle that spilled from chapped lips. His hand dropped back to his side as his eyes burned. This was all wrong! He would never... he would NEVER raise a hand against his boys.

The only one who ever did that was...

He dug his nails into the palms of his hands hard, trying to break the skin. How long would it be before that- that asshole was gone from their lives? He had been gone for about as long as Chan had been clean, but he still haunted the dorm like a malicious phantom.

With a shaking breath, Chan let his hands relax. There was no blood, but the half moon shaped indents were a concerning shade of purple.

Chan grabbed his things, not noticing when he gripped the straps just a little too tightly, just like he didn’t notice how Felix made a point to stay away from him. Just like he didn’t notice how they urged him to take the passenger seat in the front, even though they normally fought like children over who got to sit there. Just like he didn’t notice their eyes glued to his every move, or how the irritation in his chest was building and building, to the point where he was afraid he was going to snap again.

He felt like a rubber band, pulled far too tight, threatening to break at any moment, and just like a rubber band, when he did snap, he would hurt those around him. Again.

“Take a break,” He said - one of the first things he had actually said that day. The others looked at him, their faces red and hair sweaty. They had been practicing the songs they were going to promote at the end of the week, and even with Chan’s frustrated state, he could admit they were in good shape. “Two hours, be back here. We’ll go over vocals for a bit and finish up with another few rounds of choreography.”

“Yes hyung,” They chorused back, perking up both at the news of a two hours break followed by vocals, and because of Chan actually talking to them again.

He saw them perk up and couldn’t stop the coil of frustration in his chest. Were his practices so bad that they were that desperate to take a break? Were they that desperate to get away from him?

Without another word, he grabbed his wallet, his phone, cap, and mask, and left the practice room. He didn’t hear the faint calls of his name because he was already running down the stairs. He didn’t know where he was going, but he knew he needed to go. Go somewhere. Do something. Do anything.

Anything to sate the beat in his chest that was trying to make him into something he wasn’t.

Was it because he was stressed? This comeback was to be their biggest one yet, with the choreography even more challenging and the songs themselves very experimental. His mind constantly reminded him that if this comeback flopped, it was because he set them up for failure with his awful noise music. Maybe that’s why he was feeling this way - why, instead of feeling electricity, he felt thorny vines snaking themselves through his ribs and around his lungs and stabbing into his heart.

That was no excuse for his actions though. There was no excuse.

He didn’t know where his feet were taking him, and he found he didn’t really care. As long as he was back before the two hours were up, he could do whatever he wanted. He tugged his cap farther over his face. The last thing he needed was to be stopped on the street and snap at a fan.

The world seemed to be moving too fast, or maybe he was just moving too slow. He wasn’t sure anymore - he couldn’t even trust his own senses.

The air chilled him, his shirt still sticking to him from the sweat of practice. He saw people glancing at him from the corners of their eyes, judging him for being so sweaty and gross in public. He bit back a growl of frustration and kept walking. By the time he was able to look around, he realized he had gone farther than he had expected.

His stomach growling made him pay attention to the fact that he had only eaten a few bites of fried rice that morning and had been practicing for a few hours.

Seeing a convenience store, he crossed the street and ducked inside. It wasn’t nearly as nice as the one by the company building, this one more on the run down end. It was empty, other than himself and the worker, who seemed more interested in whatever was on his phone than whoever just entered the store. Chan realized it reminded him of the gas station convenience stores in the States, not that he had been to many. They tried to avoid them, but sometimes they needed to stop for one reason or another.

Fluorescent lights flickered overhead, giving the store an almost yellow glow. Chan wandered the aisles, trying to find something that wasn’t going to make his stomach turn even worse. He passed the drink coolers and paused. On the top shelf were familiar green bottles.

Chan had never been the type to drink often, but he was only human. He needed to relax, needed to calm himself down sometimes as well. He wasn’t perfect, no matter how damn hard he tried to be. The beast in his chest seemed to perk up as he reached for two bottles. The glass clinked together, cold even to his chilled fingers.

On his way to the cashier, he spotted pre wrapped sandwiches. He grabbed one of those, not checking to see what kind it was before going up and placing his items on the counter. The worker finally looked up, his eyes as dead as someone working in retail could be. He looked Chan up and down, then let his gaze slide over what he was buying.

With slow movements, he scanned the two bottles and the sandwich before sighed and glanced back up.

“Will that be all?” He asked, sounding like he would rather be held at gunpoint than work for another second. Chan knew how that felt.

“Yeah-” He grabbed his wallet, only to pause. The beast in his chest urged him to look forward. Behind the worker was a wall of tobacco products, from cigarettes to cigarellos and chewing tobacco. Chan had never smoked a day in his life, but the reckless part of him wanted to know if it really felt good enough to become addicted to - if they would be enough to calm him down and satisfy the demon in him to the point where he wouldn’t be any more of a threat to his friends. He wouldn’t be able to handle another fight like the one the night before.

“Actually,” He corrected himself. “One of those, and a lighter. Please.”

“ID?” The worker didn’t seem to actually care all that much, but it was the law. Chan slid his ID towards him, biting back a smirk when the worker only briefly scanned the piece of plastic, probably just seeing if the pictures match and nothing more. He nodded and handed it back before turning to grab the light blue carton and one of the cheap lighters. “Anything else?”

“No, just that.” Chan felt.... Weird. The creature in his chest seemed to purr as he purchased his things and left the store. Was this what it wanted? Did it want

Chan to ruin himself completely?

Would it really be so bad, if he did?

He shook his head. He couldn’t think like that - not when he had seven other people relying on him. Not when he had all the world’s Stays looking up to him.

No matter how tempting it was, he couldn’t give in. Not yet.

He found a bench under a large tree, almost completely secluded and isolated from the real world around him, and sat. Pulling out the sandwich first, he scowled a little. He hated egg salad, but it was too late.

Taking a bite, he sat back against the bench. The sandwich tasted old, but food was food, he supposed. Besides, wasn’t being reckless a good thing? To the creature, it was.

Halfway through the sandwich, his stomach began to squirm, and he wasn’t feeling up to throwing up so he tossed the rest into the grass. He felt his mouth turn up in a small smile as he watched the small birds instantly flock the bread, only to be scared away by a fat squirrel, the fur tufts on its ears standing up and giving the impression it had horns.

Chan dug in his bag from the store and pulled out the carton of cigarettes and the lighter, easily pulling the tab and removing the plastic packaging. He had an idea of what to expect, but at the same time he didn’t. Would doing this be too much? Would this be what marks him as unsalvageable? Unfixable?
Would this be the final straw to him giving up on himself?

It was just until this suffocating irritation was gone, he told himself as he slipped out a single cigarette. It was so small, looked so harmless. Doing what he had seen in movies, he lit the end, waiting for it to glow like an ember before bringing the filtered end to his mouth.

Chan took a drag, feeling the smoke fill his lungs instantly. It burned, but not as bad as the media made it seem. He expected to cough and hack, like how they always did in the movies, but he found himself exhaling the smoke just fine. He took another drag, holding the smoke in for a few beats before tilting his head back and watching the smoke rise and dance among the leaves.

He wondered what it would be like, to be free like smoke. To be as light and untouchable as the white clouds coming from his lungs. He wondered if he were smoke, would he be happier? Would he be better off floating into the air and dispersing into nothingness?

Chan checked his phone. He still had an hour and ten minutes before their break ended, and he was only a twenty minute walk from the company building. He had plenty of time.

He tapped the ash off the end of the cigarette on the edge of the bench, watching the orange embers die against the damp grass. He empathized with the ash.

He, too, felt like he was being extinguished.

Soon, the first cigarette was finished and he was snuffing it out, tucking the butt back into the space in the carton. He might be a monster that yelled at his friends, and who made sunshine Felix flinch away from him, but he wasn’t a litterer. His head was clearer, and even with the taste of tar in the back of his throat, he felt lighter - like the smoke had somehow taken his anger and frustrations with it as it was exhaled from his lungs.

Without thinking, he lit another. Time seemed to slow down to normal as he went through the second one. The world around him was no longer rushing, and his thoughts were calm. The beast in his chest was calm.

He wondered if it would hurt to push the burning end of the cigarette against his skin. His brain screamed at him not to - Chan always hated burns, even when he was just cooking and accidentally brushed up against a pan. He would rather be cut or bruised over being burned every single time - but it was just so... tempting.

He propped his ankle up on his thigh and let his pantleg ride up. He took a long drag before pressing the end to the sliver of skin that showed. That was when he finally started coughing, the pain so intense that he choked on the smoke and his own saliva.

“Fuck-” He gasped, throwing the cigarette down, even though it wasn’t quite finished. He watched the red slowly fade as his ankle throbbed in time with his heart, which was beating painfully against his ribs. Against the thorns.

He instantly regretted it. The pain seemed to radiate, getting worse the longer it was seared into his skin like a brand. He swore that, no matter how far he falls or how much he hates himself, he wouldn’t do that again.

The world somehow continued around him, no one noticing a young man smoking under a tree. Chan grabbed the second cigarette and made sure it was properly extinguished before slipping it back in the carton, right next to the first one. He stood and felt a faint tingle in his limbs. He felt... good.

Calm.

He made his way back to the company building, praying he wouldn’t run into anyone he knew along the way. Seeing he still had half an hour before their call time, and his members were notorious for waiting until the last second of a break’s deadline, he made a beeline up to the practice room to grab his bag and immediately went back down to the gym. He didn’t notice eyes following him as he went.

The gym showers weren’t the best, but in that moment it felt like heaven. The cold water washed away any fatigue and he wondered briefly how cold the water would have to be to make his lips turn blue. In five minutes he was done and using his towel to dry off. He always had a towel, travel size soaps and a change of clothes in his bag, mainly for the nights where he loses track of time and just showers at the company before going back to the dorm, because he knew showering at five in the morning would wake someone up.

He slipped his spare shirt on and gathered his dirty clothes, shoving them back in the bag, hiding the bottles of soju with them. He felt a pang of guilt, but it quickly went away. He still had time to go to the practice room and grab the first aid box to bandage the burn on his ankle before anyone got back.

If anyone noticed a change in Chan, they didn’t mention it. No one commented on the fact the older boy was more relaxed, and smiling more. They didn’t bring up how he would flinch whenever his foot would catch on his ankle, causing him to stumble slightly. None of them even thought about talking about how Chan’s hands seemed shakier than usual.

They just hoped whatever was going on would pass soon, so they could have their leader back.

Chan didn’t notice the eyes following him, but the owner of the eyes had seen everything. He had seen Chan rush into the practice room. He saw the green bottles through the thin plastic bag, and the blue carton that he slipped from his sweatpants and tucked away in one of the many side pockets of his bag. The owner of the eyes had been close enough to Chan as he brushed past, the elder’s bag firmly on his shoulder, to smell the cigarette smoke that clung to Chan like a second skin.

Even after Chan was gone, the owner of the eyes found himself shaking.

“Innie? Is everything alright?” Hyunjin poked his head in, noticing how most of the lights were off, leaving just the one overhead light and the computer screen to illuminate the entire room. Even looking for him, Hyunjin could barely see the younger boy.

“Of course hyung,” Jeongin said, stepping into the light and smiling a little. “Sorry for taking so long.”

“Why didn’t you turn the lights on?” He asked, doing just that. The fluorescent flickered to life, bathing them in light.

“I thought it would be quick enough to just grab it and go,” Jeongin chuckled slightly, holding his phone charger up. “Turns out, I can’t see in the dark so I ended up having to dig for it.”

“Well, come on,” Hyunjin grinned at the younger boy. “The others are waiting. If Jisung doesn’t get his muffin before practice starts again, it’ll be the end of the world.”

“Yes hyung.” Jeongin fell into step with the taller boy, humming along as Hyunjin chattered about this and that. His mind was whirrling, but there was another feeling in his chest that made it hard to pay attention. It was... concern, of course. Concern and fear, and maybe a little bit of anger and betrayal, but the one that scared him the most was...

Jealousy.

Chapter Text

Chan could feel eyes on him, but he ignored it. It was the day before their comeback stage and he didn’t have time to be anxious about who might be staring at him.

That was a lie, of course. He was always anxious, but he was telling himself that he didn’t have time to dwell on it in the hopes that his brain would cooperate with him just ONCE and he could get through this comeback stage without losing his shit.

“Let’s head back,” He said, voice low. He had been doing his best to prevent himself from yelling at the others since the day he snapped at Felix, and part of that was making sure he never spoke above a casual conversation. A few times he found himself on the edge of shouting and managed to pull himself back at the last second. He wondered if anyone noticed his slip ups. “We have to be up and over to wardrobe by nine.”

“That’s so early...” Hyunjin whined lightly, more out of obligation than actual frustration, seeing how he knew how to make Chan laugh.

“I know,” Chan felt his mouth curl up a little. Hyunjin’s dramatics were always able to cheer him up, at least a little bit. He saw the younger boy grin at the sight of his leader’s faint smile, sitting up straighter to hear Chan talk. “But this way we won’t be rushed at all. We have to be at the venue by four to do soundcheck. We go on at six, and after we’ll have to go straight to the hotel for the stage the day after.”

“How many stages are we doing this time?” Jisung asked.

“I think... fourteen total,” Chan tried to recall the schedule, but his mind kept pulling up blank. Frustration bubbled in his chest. He should know this sort of thing, yet his couldn’t even remember how many times they were going to have to perform in the span of just a few days, leaving them all exhausted and snappish- “It’s going to tiring, but we’ll be back in the dorms by the end of the week.”

“I miss being able to go home in between stages...” Seungmin sighed.

Back when they were a newer group, they were able to do just that - perform their songs, then go back to the dorms and sleep in their own beds before waking up and getting ready for another performance. Now, however, they were in more demand, doing upwards of three performances a day. They stayed in hotels in between venues so they would waste less time traveling to and from, therefore having more time to do extra performances.

There was something thrilling about such a busy schedule. Maybe it was because he didn’t have to think - or rather, he didn’t have the time to think, because by the time they made it back to the hotel he was so exhausted he barely managed to wash the gel from his hair before he was collapsing on the bed.

“Like I said,” He started, guilt crawling up his chest. Sure, he found it thrilling, but that didn’t mean the others did. In fact, he was starting to get worried this pace was going to burn the younger boys out. “By the end of the week we’ll be home and we’ll have a few days to relax before we have to do any more promotions.”

This comeback’s schedule was... weird, to say the least. Never before had they done all of their stage performances in a row, then the interviews and game shows after, then the touring after that, but this was how things happened to work out this time. Chan wasn’t sure how it was going to work, but this was something completely out of his control. Thankfully they were only doing local shows this time. As much as he loved international Stays, the less time they spent travelling the better.

The fire in his veins crackled, waking the beast. It had only been two days since he had snuck out to get the cigarettes, and he had already gone through a third of the carton. He realized his mistake of smoking out in the open and he almost threw up at how fucking lucky he was the area was completely deserted at the time.

It could have been... he didn’t even want to think of what might have happened if he got caught.

Since then, he had utilized the maintenance door that led to the roof. Not many people knew it was perpetually unlocked, other than those who had been at the company for a few years already. He had learned about it back when he was a newer trainee, and would go up on the roof when he needed to clear his head.

He stopped going up after the night he had stood on the edge, looking down at the road below him. He didn’t jump, obviously, but he came so close that he frightened himself and he refused to let himself that opportunity again.

So even though he hadn’t been up on the roof in a few years before this, it felt like coming home every time he snuck away. There was something about the peeling paint and the age old remnants of other trainees sneaking up - chairs placed around in various stages of decay, flower pots with sun-faded fabric flowers, a scorch mark on the concrete where someone had once tried to have a small fire - that was almost calming. Comforting.

Somehow, no one had confronted him about disappearing. Maybe they hadn’t noticed, but maybe they just didn’t care seeing how when he came back after his ten minute bathroom breaks smiling and calm.

He tapped the side of his leg as they packed their things up. It was still early in the afternoon, so they had a few hours left to kill before they could reasonably go to bed. He wanted to do something, but he didn’t know what. It was frustrating him, to say the least.

Something caught his eye. Chan glanced over and saw Jeongin loitering by his bag, taking extra time to pack his things. That in itself wouldn’t be too out of the ordinary, except Chan caught him sneaking glances at the others, as if waiting for them to leave first.

“Everything alright Innie?” He asked, going over to the youngest member. Jeongin jumped a little, zipping his back quickly.

“Of course hyung,” He said, not looking Chan in the eye. “Just tired.”

“Jeongin,” Chan started, putting a hand on the boy’s shoulder. Jeongin’s shoulders slumped a little. You knew it was serious when Chan used their full name.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m just really stressed,” He answered, his throat stinging a little. “I want this comeback to be over.”

“It hadn’t even started yet,” Chan was worried. Jeongin never complained, so for him to already be wanting promotions to end... it was concerning to say the least. “I’ll make sure we have a nice long break afterwards, okay?”

The younger boy seemed to hesitate, as if he were debating with himself on what to say, and Chan could almost see the battle in his eyes. Just as he was about to remind Jeongin that he could trust Chan with anything he needed to tell the elder, he spoke again.

“Okay,” Jeongin slung his bag over his shoulder. “We should be getting back.”

Chan watched the younger boy pull away and leave the practice room, following the others towards the elevator. Chan was alone now, and he felt... small. The room wasn’t the largest, and when they were rehearsing sometimes it was almost suffocatingly small, but for some reason it felt huge now that he was all on his own.

The comeback was going to be stressful, but at least he wouldn’t have to think during it.

Chan was about two seconds away from screaming. The showcase was a disaster. They had just finished the performance, having only performed their top three songs for the album. It started out good, but quickly went down hill.

First Jisung dropped his mic. He was able to scoop it up without any problem, but the simple mistake set Chan’s nerves on edge.

Then Seungmin’s jacket ripped, and one of the appliques fell onto the stage, causing Felix to slip. Neither actually fell or even messed the choreography up, but Chan felt his anxiety bubbling up even more.

Next came the shoulder throw, and Chan watched Hyunjin’s face crumple in pain. Just like Minho had warned them - going all out looked better, but it left more opportunity for injury, and out of all of the members, Hyunjin was the most likely to hurt himself by pushing his body too much.

The part that really tipped him over the edge - the straw that broke Chan’s back - was when it was his turn to sing and his voice cracked. He managed to cover it well enough, and it wasn’t for the title track, but he could still feel the hot shame flash through his system.

They were professionals. They were no longer rookies. So why was he making the most juvenile mistakes? Why was he ruining the performance!?

“Good job out there boys,” Their manager came over with a grin. Chan could see how hard the man was trying to look carefree. He knew the members would be upset - they beat themselves up for the smallest things, and they had messed up several times in one stage. Eight blank, tired faces stared back at him, causing him to sigh. “Look, I know there were some... hiccups tonight, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t do well! The only reason I noticed was because I’ve seen you do that choreography a thousand times. You should have heard some of the things the staff was saying! I really do think this is going to be your best comeback yet.”

“Thanks hyung,” Chan had to clear his throat. “We’ll do better next time.”

“Please don’t beat yourselves up over this,” The man’s smile dropped. He knew them far too well. “Things can’t always go perfectly, and you have a ton more opportunities to make up for this, okay?”

“Of course,” Chan lied through his teeth. For the first time in what felt like ages, he and the other members were all on the same page. “We’ll go back to the hotel and rest. We leave early, right?”

“Mm, they want us on the road to the next venue at seven thirty.”

No one whined about it. No one made a joke. They all stared at the ground, or at their hands, or at the staff bustling around them. No one was in the mood for messing around.

Minho was applying a pain patch to Hyunjin’s shoulder, muttering something about ice and painkillers that was drowned out by the bustling of backstage. Chan knew he should go over and check on Hyunjin, but something kept his feet rooted to the spot.

“Well, I have some things to finish up here,” The man sighed, running a hand through his bangs. “Head to the hotel and order some room service. Have you worked out who's staying with who?”

“We’ll talk about it in the car.” Chan offered a tired smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. On normal trips, they tended to play a game to determine who would bunk with who, but he could already tell no one was in the mood for that.

They walked silently towards the van, not a single one of them looking forward to the almost twenty minute ride to the hotel. They piled into the car, for once not arguing about where they were going to sit.

“We should pick rooms.” Minho muttered, head back against the rest and eyes closed.

“Mm, we can just pair up by age.” Chan’s head throbbed. He just wanted to sleep, and he was genuinely considering just sleeping in his makeup and showing in the morning. The stylists would skin him if his skin broke out, but it might be worth it if it meant he could be unconscious sooner.

“Works for me.” Hyunjin yawned.

“Actually, can I room with Channie hyung?” Jeongin called out, making everyone jump a little.

“Uh, sure Innie,” Chan blinked, caught off guard a little. “Minho can room with Seungmin and the rest can go in age order?”

“Sounds good hyung.” Minho gave a tired thumbs up. There was a murmur of agreement through the van, no one really able to voice full words. Chan nodded, even if no one could see him, and texted the manager to let him know so they could send the luggage up to the appropriate rooms.

They were silent the rest of the way, their eyes too heavy to keep open for more than a few moments at a time. By the time they pulled up to the front of the hotel, they had to shake awake Jisung, Hyunjin, Seungmin and Changbin, all who had drifted off to sleep.

“I’m just glad we don’t have to carry our shit up.” Changbin grumbled, leaning heavily on Felix’s shoulder.

“Mm...” Hyunjin hummed, opening his mouth to say something more, only to yawn instead. Chan was torn on how to feel - on one hand, seeing everyone so exhausted meant they gave it their all, which was something he was insanely proud of. On the other hand, he hated seeing his friends so tired, because he only ever wanted them to be happy and bright.

“Alright, here are your keys,” Chan handed them out, having grabbed them at the front desk on the way up. “It’s not actually that late, so there’s time to order room service, so please make sure you all eat something. I don’t care if you’re too tired, you need food, okay?”

“Yes hyung.” seven tired voices called back. He found himself smiling gently. He loved his boys more than anything, and it was small moments like this that reminded him how damn lucky he was to have them in his life.

“Come on Innie, let’s wash up.” The irritation in his chest had subsided some, replaced with such exhaustion that he couldn’t feel anything else. Jeongin smiled and nodded, wrapping his jacket around his body like a safety blanket.

They made their way into the room and Chan thought back to when hotels used to be exciting - back when he was still in Australia, and his family would go on vacation and the hotel was one of the things he would look forward to the most. Even at the start of his career, it was exciting to share a room with various members. He remembered the chaos that would ensue, regardless of how exhausted they were. Now, however, they were... tired of it all. Of the hotel rooms and the room service and the long nights away from their own bed.

Jeongin flopped on the bed closest to the door, burying his face in the blanket.

“What do you want for dinner?” Chan nudged the younger’s foot, which was sticking straight out. “I’ll order for us when you go shower.”

“I don’t care... I’m not hungry.”

“I’ll get you something simple,” Chan skimmed the menu. He wasn’t all that hungry either, but he needed to set a good example for the younger boys. “Go shower, and take your time, okay? There’s no rush.”

“Thanks hyung.” Jeongin shuffled into the bathroom, not bothering to bring his pajamas in with him. Chan gave himself a moment to breathe before forcing himself to move again. He called the kitchens and ordered their meals, then he grabbed the makeup wipes from his bag and started taking off some of his eyeliner. The rest would come off in the shower, but he was never able to get it all with the shower alone.

With the sound of the water running, Chan looked around the room for the first time. There were two beds, made up in the usual hotel-standard blankets and pillows. There was a dresser and a television, a phone and a desk, but what caught his eye was what looked like a door behind the curtains. Curious, he pulled them aside and felt himself grin - he had never been in a hotel room with a balcony before.

Sliding open the balcony door, he allowed himself a deep breath of the cool night air, his lungs feeling as though he was finally clearing away some of the gunk in them. He had never been afraid of heights, so looking down the seven stories didn’t do much in the way of giving him anxiety. In fact, it made him calm, because he knew at this height no one would be able to see him, especially since his room was the last one on this end of the wing, and the room directly next to him was Minho and Seungmin’s - both of which like to go to bed as early as they can.

Chan glanced back at the room. Their dinners wouldn’t be there for a least half an hour, and Jeongin was known for taking advantage of the shower when he was given the chance, so the younger boy wouldn’t be out of the bathroom for another twenty minutes.

His fingers tapped the balcony, an unsteady beat filling the air. The monster in his chest had started to turn back into the electricity, and he was almost glad to feel it again. At least the electricity was familiar - unlike this damn beast in him, making him irritated and violent and hate himself more than ever for becoming something he never wanted to be. At least with the lightning, he knew what to do to sate it.

Slipping back into the room, he ruffled through his bag and pulled out the carton of cigarettes, his lighter tucked inside. He glanced back at the bathroom, the sound of the shower drowning out whatever noise he might have made. He went back to the balcony and with practiced movements - he never thought he would find lighting a cigarette familiar, but there he was - and brought it to his mouth, taking a calming drag.

He knew it was bad for his health, especially since he was a singer, but this was South Korea. Everyone and their mothers smoked, so he wouldn’t stand out - if only he wasn’t an idol... there would be absolutely nothing wrong with this, but because he WAS an idol, he was constantly held to a higher standard. He was constantly held to an impossible level that was completely unreachable, and was then criticized and berated for making mistakes.

His eyes stung, and it wasn’t because of the smoke curling up past his face. He tapped the ash over the edge of the balcony, watching the red embers tumble through the darkness. He noticed how the fire went out before it hit the ground.

Unlike him, who would only be extinguished after he hit the ground-

He shook his head. He couldn’t think like that. He had his members to think of. His family. Stays. He couldn’t leave - not yet.

So instead of finishing that train of thought, he chased way every word in his mind with another drag of the cigarette. The burning sensation down his throat made his muscles relax, the tingling sensation settling into his limbs. He knew he still had time. He could smoke a cigarette in three minutes.

He snubbed the butt out on the wall of the hotel, grimacing a little at the black smudge left on the outdated stucco wall. Before he noticed, another cigarette was between his fingers, the smoke curling through the air again.

There was no one to catch him. No one to see his shame, or his coping. This was the only time Chan could be Chan - could be 100% himself without needing to put on a front to make sure no one realized anything was wrong.

Time had no meaning during this time. The world around him kept going, but he was still - for just a moment, he was finally still.

The electricity began to buzz, and he couldn’t help but tap the fingers of the hand not holding the cigarette against the balcony. He wasn’t moving nearly enough, even though his body ached from his long, tiring day. Even after all of that, it still wasn’t enough...

He still wasn’t enough.

“What’s happening to me?” He whispered, running his free hand through his bangs, wincing as the knots caught on his rings. He bit the end of the cigarette between his front teeth and pulled the stray hairs from the jewelry, letting them fall over the edge as well.

“Hyung.” A voice made Chan jump. He bit down on the filter out of surprise, keeping the cigarette from tumbling down into the abyss below him. He glanced to the side and saw Jeongin leaning against the balcony railing, crossing his arms and looking out over the city.

“You’re out of the shower early.” He couldn’t hide how his voice shook. No one was supposed to know he smoked - no one was supposed to know anything was wrong, because he was FINE. He was OKAY.

But now the worst possible scenario was coming true. Jeongin, Innie, his maknae, saw him - caught him red handed. There was no way he could talk his way out of this one. It was clear the carton was almost empty, so he couldn’t try to convince the younger boy it was his first time.

“The water pressure is nice, but the hot water ran out too fast,” Jeongin didn’t look at him as he talked, continuing to scan the lights in the distance. Chan studied the other boy’s profile and wondered when Jeongin grew up so much. There was almost nothing left of the baby he had chosen at the beginning. Soft cheeks had melted down into sharp cheekbones, metal smile straightened out into a stunning grin. He had grown up, and Chan was left wondering if he had done enough for Jeongin over the years - if he had done enough for all the boys. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.” Chan, realizing that Jeongin wasn’t going to freak out, brought the cigarette back to his mouth and took a deep breath, holding it in his lungs before letting his head tip back and exhaling into the sky.

“Well firstly, can I have one?” Jeongin finally looked at him, nodding towards the cigarette in the older boy's hand. Chan started coughing, having inhaled the smoke a little too sharply at the shock that flooded his system.

“Y-you-” He coughed again, wishing he had a water bottle.

“Here hyung,” Jeongin handed the older boy a bottle. Chan hadn’t even noticed him holding it. “And don’t worry, it’s not my first time. I know how to handle the smoke.”

“Not your first time...” It wasn’t a question, but rather a chance for the younger boy to take it back and pretend it never happened.

“If I tell you about me, will you tell me about you?”

“What do you mean?”

“There’s a lot I never told you, last year,” He turned back to look over the city. Chan felt his heart sink when he realized what Jeongin was implying. “I told myself I wouldn’t tell anyone, but if you’ll finally talk to someone about what you’re going through, I don’t mind using my own shit as leverage.”

“I’m your hyung... I can’t be unloading onto you like that.” It was all Chan could think to say. His mind was buzzing, the electricity itself feeling... scared.

Confused. Just like he was.

“I’m an adult,” Jeongin pointed out. “And your friend. If you can’t talk to your friends, everything gets bottled up and then you snap.”

Chan knew he was specifically talking about the day he yelled at Felix. He closed his eyes and took a breath, his cigarette burning in his hand. The sound of the lighter flicking to life brought him back to the present. He spun around, eyes wide, as Jeongin put the end of his cigarette to his mouth.

It was clear he hadn’t been lying. He was far too casual with it for this to have been his first time, the way he held the cigarette between thin fingers, the way he let his head tip back to exhale the smoke. Chan felt himself chuckle in disbelief as the younger managed to blow a smoke ring. Jeongin glanced back at him, a small smile on his lips.

“Alright,” Chan sighed, finishing his second cigarette and tucking the butt back into the carton with all the others. Jeongin’s eyes followed him closely. He hesitated before lighting a third. His hands shook, and he knew he would need it if this conversation was going to go where he thought it was. “I’ll tell you everything if you do the same.”

“I’ll do my best.” He casually tapped the ash off over the edge of the balcony. Just as he was about to speak again, there was a knock on the door. Chan and Jeongin looked at each other for a moment before Chan handed his cigarette to the younger and went to answer the door.

“Room service.” The person called.

“Thank you,” Chan smiled at him as he took the plates from the tray. The boy bowed, and Chan wondered if he could smell the smoke on his clothes. It wasn’t as strong as he thought it would be at first, almost nonexistent as long as he blew the smoke above him rather than down or straight out, which was why he hoped no one noticed when he snuck away, but now he was a little paranoid. The boy turned to leave and Chan closed the door. Neither mentioned anything that might seem off. “Jeongin, come eat. We can talk after.”

“Bring it out here,” Jeongin called back. He sounded so mature, more so than even Chan did at times. Chan nodded and grabbed the tray with the two plates, as well as two of the spare pillows from the closet before going back to the balcony. Jeongin took the pillows and set them down for them to sit on, Chan placing the tray between them. He handed the cigarette back to Chan, who sighed and took another drag. A good amount of it had burned down when he was answering the door. He had a feeling they would be going through the last of his carton before this talk was over. “Wanna eat first, or talk and eat at the same time?”

“Talk and eat,” Chan grabbed his fork and mixed around the random dish he had ordered for himself. He hadn’t really checked the menu all that thoroughly for himself. “Easier to just... talk and not think when you’re doing something else.”

“Mm.” Jeongin followed suit, snuffing the cigarette out on the concrete of the balcony and flicked it over the edge. Chan raised an eyebrow, earning a shrug from the younger.

They ate in silence for a moment, both mentally preparing themselves. Less than five minutes into the almost comfortable quiet, Jeongin sighed.

“Alright,” he didn’t put his chopsticks down, but he stopped bringing them up to his mouth for a moment. “I guess it’s now or never.”

“Are you sure?”

“No, but if I don’t you’re going to keep holding everything in, and we’re going to lose our brother.”

“Jeongin...” Chan physically recoiled.

“I’m not wrong,” He reached for his drink and took a sip. “You’ve been self destructing for months, and it’s getting worse. If this is my only chance to do something, I’m going to take it. Just... don’t get mad, okay?”

“I promise I won’t get mad.” It was a promise he hoped he would keep. Jeongin nodded, more to himself than to his hyung before clearing his throat.

“It started back in high school, I guess,” Jeongin started, poking his dinner and moving it around mindlessly. “I didn’t think it would get bad, but I guess I was just a little stupid back then... I was sixteen, and I wanted to fit in.”

Chan could feel where this was going, and he felt sick.

“If I had to pinpoint it, it was probably around spring of my second year...”

Chapter Text

Jeongin looked between his friends. They were sitting on the roof of their school, waiting for the lunch break to end. He was a little preoccupied, his mind heavy with the events of the weekend before. He had met up with a boy named Bangchan, who told him about a new idol group he was trying to form. Bangchan had said Jeongin was the final piece he was looking for, and for the younger boy to genuinely consider joining them for practices.

Music had always been his passion, since before he could even walk. His parents had always been supportive, even going as far as to cover his tuition to go to school here, despite his grandparents pushing for him to go into business or marketing. He wanted to prove that his mom and dad’s faith wasn’t misplaced.

“Innie, are you listening?” His friend Minsoo asked, smacking his knee.

“Huh?” He blinked, having not been listening at all.

“Hyung said we could sit with him and the other seniors at lunch,” His other friend, Woosung grinned wide. It was no secret that Woosung idolized the seniors at their school more that he probably should - especially the three particular seniors that somehow always got away with breaking the dress code without anyone commenting on it. Jeongin didn’t particularly like them himself, seeing how they gave him weird vibes, but he liked his friends and he wanted his friends to be happy, so he nodded. “Hyung said we were cool for being sophomores.”

“Aren’t they the ones that set that trashcan in the first floor bathroom on fire?” Minsoo asked, his face twisted in concern.

“Yeah!” Woosung was far too excited. “Aren’t they so cool?”

“Sure...” Jeongin didn’t know how to say no.

He was worried. He loved his friends - they had been a trio since the fifth grade - but since getting into high school they had been... drifting. Woosung had been getting more into adult rated action movies, and he had been trying to imitate the actors. Minsoo was still mostly the same as the boy Jeongin remembered, but he was also acting differently. He had recently gotten a girlfriend, and he was spending less and less time with Jeongin and Woosung. Even when they were together, he was on his phone more often than not.

But it was okay, because they would be friends no matter what. The three promised when they were twelve years old that nothing would break them apart - school, friends, distance, nothing would make them stop being friends for any reason.

Woosung kept prattling on about something the seniors had done, and Jeongin found himself zoning out.

He wondered if he could really be an idol...

“Come on Jeongin don’t be a bitch.” Woosung hissed, pinching Jeongin’s side hard enough to make him wince.

“If he doesn’t want to then don’t force him,” the senior said, raising his eyebrows at the younger boys. Both Woosung and Minsoo had already accepted a cigarette from the senior, leaving Jeongin the only one hesitating. Jeongin looked at the older boy with a frown. Despite the reassuring words, there was something in his tone that made Jeongin feel small. “If he doesn’t want to hang with us, it’s fine.”

“Jeongin, just take it.” Minsoo sighed, accepting the lighter from another senior.

He glanced between his friends. One was glaring at him, the other ignoring him. He knew smoking was wrong, and that even if he hadn’t started training with Chan and the other boys, smoking would be a sure fire way to lose any chance of becoming an idol.

He knew this, yet the looks he was being given made him feel so... weak. So small. He felt like a child being scolded for still playing with toys at his age.

Just one wouldn’t hurt, right?

He took the cigarette and let Woosung light it for him. Copying what he was seeing the others do, Jeongin inhaled. It burned going into his lungs, making him cough lightly. Each cough somehow burned more than the smoke itself going down.

Woosung smiled at him, almost looking relieved that he was playing along with the big kids. The seniors nodded towards him, their faces lit up in approval.

Jeongin’s chest warmed, and it wasn’t because of the smoke. Seeing the seniors look at him like that made him feel the same way Chan hyung did when the older boy praised him for doing well in practice. He wanted that praise, wherever he could get it.

So he took another drag of the cigarette, ignoring the guilty feeling weighing down his stomach. As long as no one found out, what would it matter? Just one cigarette wouldn’t kill him.

Right?”

“Jeongin, honey, is something wrong?” His mother asked. Her son had been distant recently, the bags under his eyes getting darker and darker by the day.

“Of course not,” He gave her a small smile. “I guess I’m just tired. Between studying and practicing with Chan hyung, I’ve been working really hard.”

“My baby boy,” She smiled warmly, pulling him into a tight hug. She didn’t smell the smoke under the scent of his cologne. It was the same one his father wore. He didn’t like it much, but it was strong and almost cloying. No one could smell anything under it. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Love you mom.” He hugged her back, giving himself a moment of rest. He had been pushing himself far too much, and he knew that, but he refused to stop. He had been training to be in the boy group for a couple of months, and sneaking off with Woosung, Minsoo and the seniors for just as long.

Was it wrong? Yes. Did the tingling feeling in his limbs help him relax after dancing for six hours straight? Did the circular burns on his hip help him focus when he was studying for the second night in a row without sleep?

Yes.

So he was going to keep doing it - just until he was done. Done with school, and done with training. As soon as he debuts, and graduates, he’ll stop. He could stop whenever he wanted. The only problem was that he didn’t want to stop. He finally felt in control of something in a world that did nothing but control him.

He pulled back from the embrace and slung his backpack over his shoulder. Waving goodbye, Jeongin made his way out the door. He told his mom he went to extra lessons before class, but that was a bit of a fib.

Instead, he used the time to sit on the roof and smoke, letting his muscles relax before snuffing the embers out on the cement and going to face his day with a smile. No one knew anything was wrong, expect his friends.

He watched the students wander onto the campus, their bright yellow uniforms reminding Jeongin of the small yellow cardinals he saw during his family’s trip to the states all those years ago. His own uniform jacket was thrown over with his bag, across the roof where the smoke wouldn’t soak into the fabric.

Months later, and smoking was like second nature to him - the actions of the inhaling, and exhaling, and lighting a new cigarette only to repeat the cycle until his breathing was calmed.

Shrugging his jacket back on, Jeongin made his way to his classroom. He had a long day ahead of him, with an exam in his maths class and practice with Chan hyung and the others directly after school. He probably wouldn’t return home until after midnight, only to wake up again at five to get ready for tomorrow’s classes.

He told himself it was okay to smoke more - that it was okay to leave himself encouraging burns on his skin. It was just to give him a little push for as long as he needed it! As soon as he was able to relax - as soon as he graduates and can focus on his debut, he can stop all of this. It was something he used for control. It wasn’t something that controlled him. He could stop whenever he wanted, he just didn’t want to yet.

“Your friend Jeongin is honestly pretty cool,” The senior said to Woosung, who scowled angrily. He wanted to be the one being praised. Jeongin just glanced over at them. It was the last day of classes, and the seniors would be graduating that evening. He sighed, letting the smoke curl around his ears. He found he couldn’t care less about what they were saying. In just a few months, he stopped caring what any of the other boys thought of him - instead, he focused on not falling apart. He focused on the burning sensation that kept him grounded through long nights of dancing and studying. “Makes me wish we could take him with us.”

“He’s not that cool,” Woosung grumbled, his ears turning red. He couldn’t smoke with the older boys, because his asthma kicked back in hard. He hated that Jeongin was getting more attention than him. “He burns himself like a little bitch.”

“So what?” The senior asked with a shrug. “We all do fucked up shit. If he wanted to burn himself, why should I care?”

Jeongin rolled his eyes. His chest ached a little at how flippant they were, but the larger part of him didn’t care. Chan hyung had almost caught him, and that was what made his heart stop in his chest. He couldn’t let Chan hyung know anything was wrong - not just because JYPE was strict with their idols when it came to smoking and drinking, but also because he saw how hard Chan hyung worked to help all nine of them through to debut. He couldn’t add this onto the older boy’s shoulders.

Jeongin bit back a sob. They had sent Felix home today, and he thought he was going to crumble to pieces. Losing Minho was a blow that no one saw coming, but losing Felix was something none of them could comprehend.

“Felix hyung...” Jeongin whimpered into his pillow. He missed the older boy with his bright grins and soft hugs. He wanted a hug, but no one left in the dorms could give him the kind he needed. He knew he could go to Chan hyung and get the second best kind, but after the older boy had cried himself to sleep over failing his boys, Jeongin couldn't bring himself to wake him.

He slipped out of bed, the dorms nearly silent as he crept towards the hall. He swiped his phone, shoes and the small pencil case he kept hidden with his school supplies. He knew no one would be awake at this time, and that the camera crew wouldn’t be back until morning. He pushed open the perpetually unlocked door to the roof and pulled out the cigarettes from the pencil case.

His hands shook as he lit on, tears splashing down on his sleep pants. He had been avoiding this, part of him finally wanting to go clean. He always told himself he could stop if he wanted to, but he quickly realized that wasn’t the case.

He told himself he wouldn’t get addicted, but he failed.

He went back inside after a second. By the time he slipped into his bed, his shaking had finally stopped.

Jeongin’s hands shook. He bounced his foot, fighting back a scowl. This meeting was only supposed to last an hour, then they were supposed to have a free afternoon, but for some reason it was running extra long.

And by extra long, he meant they were already hitting hour three and there was no end in sight. He had planned to leave after the meeting, using the excuse of seeing his high school friends for dinner. Since graduating, he had seen next to nothing of them. The circles on his hip were shiny and smooth, no longer radiating pain at all. In reality, he needed to get another pack and the only store that would sell to minors was a half hour bus ride away from the dorm building.

Things had been going well for him. They had debuted, even after the stress of the reality show. Their fans were even more amazing than he could ever imagine. Their debut stage broke records, and nothing could erase the grins on their faces.

But now they were working on their first real comeback, and the stress was settling back in. I Am Not did so well, Chan was pushing himself - and the others - to do even better for I Am Who. They wanted to top their previous accomplishments, but it wasn’t something that was easily done. They were all stressed to the point of breaking, but no one wanted to be the first to snap.

The second the meeting was over, Jeongin bolted from the room. He needed a break - needed something to calm the anxiety thrumming through his veins. It had been two years since that day on the rooftop, and Jeongin had finally accepted that this was what his life had become. As long as no one found out, he would be fine. As long as it kept him sane, it didn’t matter how badly he ruined himself.

Jeongin ground the butt under his heel, the smoke rising from the cement of the rooftop in one final cry for life before the fire was put out completely.

Promotions for I Am You were already underway, their many performances already scheduled and planned. In a single year, they had finished the I Am series, and they were exhausted.

Not only emotionally and physically, but also spiritually. Tensions within the group were at an all time high, and Jeongin did anything he could to get out of the dorm to avoid the tightness in the air. He loved his hyungs, but things were getting... messy.

He didn’t like how rough one of his hyungs was, but he never said anything. He didn’t want to accuse anyone of anything. He noticed this hyung being rough with the others, but it seemed like he was the worst with Jeongin.

He hated it.

He hated watching Chan hyung fight with the oldest - hated watching the person who cared for them all the most yelling and screaming at the person who was supposed to support them all through anything.

Jeongin was never outright hit, but he was roughed up. He would be wrestled until he was bruised. Hands on his shoulders and around his wrists were too tight. Jokes shot in his direction were a little too sharp. It made it harder and harder to avoid his more... dangerous vices. His skin was covered in red, shining circles that no one saw.

He heard Chan hyung talking with their manager. He heard them discussing the option of becoming an eight member group, and he wanted to agree. He wanted to beg Chan hyung to go through with it, but that would require admitting what was wrong.

And nothing was wrong - not really. He was never hit, or abused. He was just roughed up. Everyone got roughed up sometimes. He was fine. He was fine. He was-

He hissed. The cigarette burned into his skin, his mind finally clear again.

He was fine.

Jeongin finished the cigarette and flicked it over the edge of the building, leaving no evidence other than a dark ashy smudge where he had been sitting. He made his way back inside, no one the wiser.

“H-hyung...” Jeongin felt his stomach drop. Woojin held the cigarettes in his hand, glancing between the pack and the younger boy. He chuckled and looked inside, seeing how they were almost gone.

“I never pegged you as a smoker Innie,” He said with a smirk. “Wonder what Channie would think of this-”

“No!” Jeongin’s eyes burned. “Y-you can’t tell him! Please...”

“And why shouldn’t I?”

“He can’t know.” He solidified his resolve, looking the older boy square in the eye.

“Yeah?” He raised a teasing eyebrow. “You could be kicked out of the company for this... you know JYP’s stance on smoking.”

“What do you want?” Jeongin ground out, forcing himself to hold back his tears.

“Why would I want something?”

“Just say it.”

“Defend me,” The older boy’s smile dropped. “They’re going to try to black list me out of the company. Defend me and help me stay in the group.”

Jeongin felt his intestines twist. The last thing he wanted to do was defend the older boy - especially when he was the one experiencing the worst of the roughing up, but Chan hyung could never know about his dirty little secret.

“I’ll do what I can.” He ground out, eyes glued to the floor

“Mm, good,” The older boy chuckled. “Here, catch.”

Jeongin caught the pack just as it was about to hit him in the head. He bit the inside of his cheek, almost instantly tasting blood. Woojin walked past him, leaving Jeongin alone in the room as if nothing had happened at all.

How had he found the pack? Jeongin was so careful with hiding it. He gripped the cigarettes tightly in his hands and ran from the room, ignoring Jisung’s calls.

He went directly to the roof, knowing no one would know to look for him there.

As far as he knew, no one in the group knew that the door was never locked.

An hour later, his pack was empty and he was calm again.

Jeongin threw the pack of cigarettes into the trash. Part of him was screaming to grab it back - only two had been taken, and it was such a waste to throw it all away...

But he stayed strong. They were preparing for their first comeback as eight, and he was prepared to make sacrifices for the group. He found he had needed it less and less now that the dorm was calmer, the tension all but gone. It was as if everyone could finally take a deep breath, and their smiles seemed much more genuine.

The fear of Chan finding out was enough of a wake up call in itself. If things being better hadn’t been enough to urge him to quit, the paralyzing terror he felt when he thought Chan would be made aware of his little habit was what pushed him over the edge.

Chan hyung told them all how proud he was of them, and that was enough for Jeongin to want to get better. The cravings were still there, but he knew he could find a distraction from one of his hyungs anytime he needed, and no one would ask for a reason why.

He wanted to get better. He didn’t want to burn himself, or ruin his health. He just wanted to be happy.

“Did you sleep well?” Chan asked as Jeongin came into the dorm.

“Mm,” For the first time in what felt like years, it wasn’t a lie. “I feel... recharged.”

“That’s good,” Chan went over and hugged the younger boy, rubbing his cheek against the top of Jeongin’s head. Jeongin just chuckled, letting the older boy coddle him. “You’ve been looking really tired lately. You deserve a good break.”

“The comeback’s been stressful.” They both knew he didn’t just mean the comeback.

“I’m so proud of you Innie,” Chan rested Jeongin’s head against his shoulder. “I really mean it. You’ve worked so hard, and you’ve been through so much, but you’ve never let any of it get to you. I’m so fucking proud of you.”

“Thanks hyung,” His eyes stung. If only Chan knew... but it didn’t matter now, because he was done with all of that. He was going to be fine. No one ever had to know - as if nothing had ever happened. As long as no one knew, it would be fine. “I’m proud of you too. You’ve done so much for all of us... you’re really strong hyung.”

“You’re gonna make me cry,” Chan chuckled but didn’t pull away from the embrace - they both needed this. They both needed this hug, more than either of them realized. “I really love you. You guys make everything worth it.”

“You too hyung,” Jeongin wished he could tell Chan how much the elder had genuinely saved him, but that meant giving away just what Chan had saved him from. “You’ve done so much for us...”

“Come on, Minho managed to get manager hyung to get take out for dinner,” Chan finally pulled away from the embrace, his eyes glassy and smile wide. Jeongin loved Chan’s smile, because it was just as warm as his hugs. “And you know Sungie will eat all the egg rolls if we don’t get our soon.”

“Mm, lead the way.”

“Jeongin...” Chan’s eyes were wide. How had he never noticed? His maknae had been going through so much, right under his nose? How had he hidden the smell of smoke and the withdrawals from all of them? How had Jeongin managed to handle everything by himself? Why had Jeongin forced himself to handle everything by himself? Did he not trust them?

“It’s fine now hyung,” Jeongin chucked, putting his chopsticks down. He had eaten most of his dinner, only leaving the soggy bits along the edges of the plate.

The small pile of ash had gathered on the cement of the balcony, the used butts tucked back in the pack - Chan had made sure no more were tossed over the edge. “I’ve been clean up until tonight, and I don’t think I’m going to go back to smoking all the time now. This was just a nice break.”

“Why...” He wanted to ask so many things - why would he start in the first place? Why did he take advice from the seniors when Jeongin knew they were bad news? Why did he not come to any of them? Why had he been so afraid for Chan to find out?

“Now it’s your turn,” Jeongin looked up at him, and Chan once again wondered when the other boy had gotten so old. He almost looked older than Chan himself. How much had Chan missed? “I know it’s going to be hard, but you promised.”

“I did,” Chan sighed, stalling by taking a sip of his drink. As much as he didn’t like the feeling of being out of control, part of him wished it was soju - just to soften some of this anxiety spiking through his chest. “Just... give me a second.”

“Take your time hyung.” Jeongin played with the food on his plate, trying to appear casual so Chan didn’t feel pressured.

The minutes passed by, the city alive below them as if they weren’t laying themselves bare on the balcony. Chan reached for the pack and saw a single cigarette left. Another spike of anxiety made his throat close.

Was he becoming addicted, just as Jeongin had? He didn’t think he was reliant on the rush, but the realization that he was almost out made his heart stutter uncomfortably. He wished he could get out of this conversation, but he couldn’t break Jeongin’s trust. He had promised to repay the younger boy for his honesty with his own truth, and there was no way he could disappoint the other like that.

“We’re going to have to talk about what you told me.” Chan wanted to put off his confession for as long as possible. Jeongin’s mouth curled up some.

“Mm, I know,” He chuckled. “I guess it’s about time. I’ve been keeping it all bottled up. It’ll be nice to get it out finally.”

Chan nodded, making a mental note to set time aside to genuinely talk to Jeongin. As much as the younger assured he was fine, there was more to addiction than just not relapsing, and if he had been self harming as well... There was a lot he needed to check to make sure his precious maknae was alright.

“I, uh, I don’t know when it all started, really,” Chan fiddled with the lighter, not sure if he wanted to light the last cigarette or not. Jeongin stayed quiet, silently encouraging Chan to continue. “I know I wasn’t always like this. When I was a trainee, I was... regular depressed, but at some point between then and now, I got... fucked up.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you’ve noticed more than anyone,” Chan sighed, feeling tired. “I’m either too energetic, or I’m so depressed I can’t breathe. I feel like there’s- there’s electricity running under my skin, pushing me to be more and more reckless. Otherwise it’ll...” he trailed off, not sure how to continue.

“Will it do something to you if you don’t?” Jeongin didn’t sound like he thought Chan was insane. In fact, it sounded like he genuinely believed the elder. It gave Chan the confidence to try and speak again.

“I feel like it’ll melt me if I don't do what it wants,” He admitted. “Normally I get a week or so in between these... episodes before things get bad again - in either direction - but for some reason things are wrong now.”

“Wrong how?”

“I should feel normal,” He admitted. “I was just depressed, so I should be fine now but instead it feels like there’s this-this monster in my chest that wants me to lash out and hurt the people around me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like...” Chan was getting frustrated with himself. Why was it so hard to explain all of this? He was able to articulate it in his head, but when he opened his mouth it was as if all the words in the world abandoned him. “Like instead of electricity wanting me to be reckless and hurt myself, the beast makes me frustrated and irritated for no reason, and wants me to get mad at everyone and take it out on them.

“Is that why you snapped at Felix hyung?”

“I can’t believe I did that...” Chan’s eyes stung. He didn’t even have a chance to fight back the tears before they were splashing down on his lap. “I-I... I’ve always been so fucking scared of doing something like that, and the look he gave me after... I can’t stop thinking about how fucking scared he looked! And then- then he f-flinched away from me? He thought I was going to h-hit him?” The tears just felt faster and faster.

“Felix hyung knows you would never hit him.” Jeongin’s voice was soft. Gentle.

“All I ever wanted to do was protect you all, but now I’m the one hurting everyone,” He wanted to sob but he knew he couldn’t be too loud. He didn’t want to wake anyone. “I just wanted to make it all stop, but I can’t fucking control this! I don’t even know what’s wrong with me... maybe I really am insane...”

“You’re NOT insane,” Jeongin’s voice hardened, making Chan’s head shoot up. The conviction in the younger boy’s face almost scared him. “Hyung, do not call yourself insane. You’re not crazy. Just because you’re having trouble with your mental health doesn’t mean you’re crazy.”

“But Innie-”

“No buts,” Jeongin cut him off. “Am I crazy for hurting myself?”

“What? No!” Chan felt like he had been slapped.

“Then stop calling yourself bad things,” Jeongin’s shoulders slumped a little. “Stop being mean to yourself.”

“I just...”

“Hyung, is there something else bothering you?” Jeongin could tell Chan was stalling, and it broke his heart a little. He hated seeing his hyung - strong, talented, loving Chan - look so scared and helpless. It just didn’t sit right with him.

“...” Chan opened his mouth before closing it again. Finally, after a moment of thinking, he spoke. “Can we go back inside?”

“Mm, let’s clean this up.” Jeongin stood and cracked his knees loudly. Chan lit the last cigarette and took a long drag, inhaling as much as he could in a single breath. Before he could exhale, it was being taken from his fingers. Glancing to the side, Chan watched Jeongin do the same before handing it back in silence.

It only took them a few minutes to share the cigarette, Jeongin snuffing it out and tossing it over the edge before Chan could stop him. They made their way into the hotel room, carrying the pillows and tray with them, and closed the balcony door, shutting the cool night air off. Chan stood awkwardly, debating what to do next as Jeongin dug through the older boy’s luggage.

“Here hyung,” He handed Chan a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. Chan took them with a nod. “Go shower, okay? We can talk when you get out.”

He hesitated. Part of him didn’t want to stop, because it would make starting again even harder. Another part of him desperately wanted to shower. He could feel the dried sweat on the small of his back and the makeup he hadn’t managed to get off crusting around his eyes, the crying from earlier not having helped at all. He felt gross, inside and out, and he had the ability to fix at least one of those.

Chan went to the bathroom and turned the water on, the mirror no longer fogged from the last shower taken. He didn’t think they had been on the balcony for that long, but apparently his sense of time was really fucked up.

The water felt amazing as it melted away the grime on his skin. The cuts on his leg barely hurt, seeing how they were two-ish days old. The familiar urge to make more resurfaced violently, making Chan choke a little. His razor was in his luggage, hidden deep in the bottom of a small first aid kit at the bottom of the bag. No one would think to look for a razor in the place he kept bandages and medication.

He fought back the urge and washed himself quickly. He hated the smell of the hotel shampoo, but he didn’t have the energy to call for Jeongin to hand him the shower bag from his luggage. It wasn’t really worth it.

Chan rinsed the soap off and stopped the shower before stepping out. He felt too tired to dry himself off properly, but he knew he had to. It was just one of the many things he knew he needed to do, regardless of how tired he was.

Slipping his boxers and sweatpants on, he carried his dirty clothes and the sweatshirt out in his arms. He was too warm to put a shirt on at the moment. Jeongin was sitting on his bed, focused fully on his phone, only to look up at the sound of the door opening. He didn’t say anything as Chan threw his sweatshirt on his own bed and his dirty clothing on top of his luggage to be dealt with later.

“Better?”

“Mm, a little.” Chan sighed. He was tired, but he knew sleep wouldn’t help much.

“Ready to keep going?”

“Yeah...” Chan played with the strings of his sweatpants, debating on what to do next - he could just say it, but he didn’t know if his words would work. “Can I show you something?”

“Of course hyung.” Jeongin sat up, setting his phone aside. Chan took a deep breath and pushed his sweatpants down. The look on Jeongin’s face told Chan the younger boy knew what he was about to see before he even pulled up the fabric of the boxers.

“I could never stand burns,” Chan said softly, a finger tracing the raised lines on his scarred skin. “I started... back when I was a trainee. I tried to hide it, but I guess it never really mattered because no one noticed when I slipped up. When I started getting Stray Kids together, it got easier to fight the urge, but when shit started getting worse...”

“It became harder?”

“Mm...” He pressed down on the cuts. They weren’t fresh enough to give him the relief he needed, but it was just enough to ground him a little. He hadn’t seen Jeongin move until he felt hands on his own, pulling his fingers away from the lines.

“Hyung...”

“Sorry, I didn’t even notice...” Chan’s own voice sounded far away. “I, uh, was clean... for almost a full year. It was the longest I was clean for... since I started, really. No one knew, but I was still proud of myself for making it that far.”

“When did you relapse?”

“The night I yelled at Felix...” He closed his eyes. Why was he so pathetic? He couldn’t do anything right, could he? He couldn’t lead the group. He couldn’t keep himself in one piece. He couldn’t handle his own fucking emotions for a single goddamn day. He couldn’t get his shit together and put his fucking insanity aside for the sake of his friends-

“Hyung! Listen to me,” Jeongin cupped Chan’s face gently. Chan snapped back to reality. When did he get on the ground? He didn’t remember kneeling.

“You’re okay. No one’s mad at you, okay? Felix hyung doesn’t hate you for snapping at him. We love you, okay? We love you so, so much.”

“B-but-

“No buts,” Jeongin pulled Chan into a tight hug, letting the older boy curl into his chest like a scared child. “None of us hate you hyung. We love you so much. You’ve done so much for us... you’ve given up way too much for us...”

“I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore,” Chan started sobbing into Jeongin’s shirt, all the emotions bubbling over at once. No amount of cigarettes or calming breaths could have prevented this breakdown. “I don’t want to be a monster.”

“You’re not a monster, hyung,” Jeongin rocked him gently. Chan used to do this for the younger often, before they debuted. Whenever things got too much, Chan would comfort Jeongin through panic attacks and nightmares.

And now it was time for Jeongin to return the comfort.

“I’m so proud of you hyung,” Jeongin whispered, holding Chan closer. The simple reassurance rattled Chan to his very core. He didn’t know how badly he needed to hear it until he did, and now he couldn’t stop shaking. Why was it so hard to make people proud? Why couldn’t he just be good enough? “It’s okay to cry. You’re not broken, or insane. I promise.”

“Jeongin...” His heart ached. He wanted to reach out but his body seemed cemented in place.

“Let’s go to bed hyung,” Jeongin sounded close to tears himself. “It’s late.”

Chan let Jeongin pull him up on the bed. Neither said anything as the younger boy turned off the lights and curled up under the covers with Chan. The two boys held onto each other as if their lives depended on it - the only ones who know their darkest secrets being the one in their arms. Jeongin’s warmth seemed to burn against Chan’s bare skin, but it was a good kind of burn - the kind that reminded him that he was alive. The kind that reminded him that no matter how scary things get, they’ll still be there to see the sun rise. The kind that reminded him that no matter how alone he felt, he was never actually by himself.

How were they going to face tomorrow after that? How were they going to go on stage and perform as though nothing was wrong? How were they going to look at the other members knowing they’re hiding so many secrets from them?

As Chan drifted off to sleep, he made the promise to explain everything after promotions. He would wait until they were back at the dorms before burdening the others...

Maybe he wouldn’t, after all.

Chapter Text

Chan woke up feeling drained - not in a bad way but rather, drained in a... calming sort of way, as if he had been filled with water and had finally gotten rid of the pressure building inside of him. He felt something shifting against his chest and opened his eyes to see Jeongin pressing his face against his hyung’s chest, sleeping peacefully.

He smiled softly. There was the boy Chan remembered. Jeongin stirred faintly, pouting and groaning in the back of his throat.

“What time is it?” He asked, his voice low and rough - rougher than Chan had ever heard it before. It dawned on him that, between the two of them, they had finished an almost brand new pack of cigarettes the night before. His own voice was probably fucked too, which would be interesting to explain for their stage later.

“Five, probably,” Chan mumbled. His body tended to wake up naturally around five due to many years of packed schedules. His throat tickled, and he realized how tacky his mouth was. “Want me to order breakfast?”

“Don’t wanna think about food...” Jeongin whined, turning over and burying his face in the pillow. Chan chuckled lightly - no matter how grown Jeongin becomes, he’ll always be Chan’s precious maknae.

“I’ll get something that’s easy to eat on the go,” He sat up, instantly missing the warmth of the other boy’s body. He didn’t realize how much he missed the contact until it was gone again. Maybe he’d ask the other members to cuddle him more. “I know you showered last night, but there’s time if you want to wash up again.”

Neither mentioned the faint taste of tobacco on the backs of their tongues.

“Mm, I probably should,” Jeongin rolled onto his back and yawned wide. He rubbed his eyes as he sat up, his hair sticking up in every direction. “Hyung’ll be pissed if.... If he thinks we stayed up all night.” He was cut off for a moment by another yawn. Neither checked what time it had been when they finally crawled into bed and fell asleep, but if Chan had to take a guess, he wouldn’t say they slept more than four hours. Jeongin was right too - if their manager thought for even a moment they were depriving themselves of what little rest they were able to get, the man would lecture them for HOURS.

“Hey Innie?” Chan said as they stood from the bed. The younger had already started towards the bathroom, only to stop and turn back.

“Yeah?” He asked.

Chan just looked at him for a moment, almost as if to memorize what the younger boy looked like - rumpled sleep clothes and messed up hair, pillow lines on his cheek and left over makeup smudged under his eye. In that moment, they were real. Chan was real, and Jeongin was real, and they were alive. They were alive, and it was amazing.

He went over to the younger boy and wrapped him in a tight hug, burying his face in the boy’s neck. He felt Jeongin return the embrace, his thin fingers gripping the back of Chan’s shirt. They stood like that for a few moments, nothing but the sound of their breathing and their hearts to break the silence.

Finally, Chan stepped back. He cupped Jeongin’s cheek for a moment, running his thumb under the boy’s eye gently. Jeongin smirked a little and chuckled, the way all the boys did when Chan got a little too sentimental.

“Hey hyung?” Jeongin said, leaning into Chan’s hand.

“Mm?”

“I’m proud of you,” His eyes sparkled as he smiled at the older boy. Chan felt his heart hurt, as if it was about to explode. It felt nice. “I know you’ve been going through hell, and that it’s still going to suck for a long time, but I’m so proud of you for making it this far.”

“Innie...” It was too early for Chan to start crying. Jeongin reached up and grabbed the hand that was on his cheek, holding it firmly against his face.

“You don’t have to do it alone anymore,” He whispered, his words sending vibrations down Chan’s wrist. “And you aren’t a failure for relapsing. Sometimes we stumble, but that just means we’re moving forward. We can’t stumble and fall if we’re standing still. Making it almost a full year is so amazing, and now we can work together to get ever farther. We’ll just take it one day at a time.”

“Y-yeah,” Chan’s cheeks hurt from how hard he was smiling. “One day at a time.”

Jeongin surged forward and wrapped his arms around Chan’s neck one more time, squeezing him almost uncomfortably tight, but Chan wouldn’t tell him to let go even if it was the end of the world. When the younger pulled back, there were tears glistening in his eyes.

“I’m going to shower,” He said, chuckling as he scrubbed at his face. “Can you get me some fruit with breakfast? I haven’t been eating enough.”

“Of course Innie,” Chan felt tears running down his face, but it was okay. “Don’t take too long, okay? We have to be ready by seven.”

“Mm, sounds good.” Jeongin grinned. Chan found returning the smile didn’t hurt at all.

“Ppst.”

Jeongin looked over to the sound to see Minho hanging back from the rest of the group, who were heading into the venue. It was eight in the morning, only a few hours after he and Chan had woken up in the hotel room. Neither mentioned anything that had happened the night before in front of the others, and Jeongin could tell how much pressure it took off Chan’s shoulders to keep it between them.

“Is something wrong?” He slowed his steps so he fell in line with the older boy.

“Did you talk to him?” Minho asked in a hushed whisper. Jeongin’s stomach dropped. He had been ‘tasked’ to see if he could get Chan to open up a few weeks prior, but he had almost forgotten about that. Minho had asked him because they all knew Chan was the softest with their maknae.

“Yeah.”

“Well?”

“I can’t tell you,” Jeongin said firmly, glancing over at the other boy. “I promised him to keep it between us.”

“Jeongin,” Minho said sternly, and Jeongin winced a little. It’s never a good thing when the older members used his full name. “I know you want to keep your promise, but this isn’t something to play around with. If you know something that can help, you need to tell me.”

“I can’t.” Jeongin felt frustrated. He didn’t want to go against Minho, who was nothing but caring if not a little strange in showing his affections. At the same time, he knew betraying Chan’s secrets to the second eldest would result in erasing any progress he might have made with their leader.

“As your hyung, I’m telling you to tell me-”

“I won’t,” Jeongin stopped walking and looked Minho in the eye. The older boy stopped, almost frozen by the intensity in Jeongin’s expression. “I won’t tell you anything. Hyung trusted me with his secrets and I’m not going to break that trust. I know you’re just trying to help him, and I know he knows you love him, but I won’t let you do this to him - to us. I know what I’m doing, okay? I’m not a child anymore. I know how to help him, so just- just trust me.”

Minho was silent for a moment. The others had kept walking, no one noticing for the time being that the two had hung back. Their voices were farther away now, almost echoing against the brick building.

“Fine,” The older boy sighed after a moment, his shoulders slumping. “I won’t be able to convince you to do anything when you’re like this. Just... are you sure this’ll work out? That you can handle this all on your own?”

“I’m not on my own,” Jeongin smiled. He saw a figure standing just outside of his peripherals, waiting for them to finish talking. “I guess I’m just starting to realize I’ve never been alone.”

“Minho, Innie!” Chan called over to them, not wanting to get too close in case he accidentally eavesdropped. He respected the privacy of his members, and if two were having a personal conversation, he wouldn’t butt in. The two turned to him. “Come on! We’re going to be late.”

“Coming hyung!” Jeongin called back before turning to Minho. He held his hand up, all his fingers curled down except his pinky. “I promise it’ll be okay.”

Minho stared for a second before letting out a breathy chuckle, his mouth quirking up in a lopsided smile. He reached out and hooked his own pinky around Jeongin’s.

“It’s a promise.” He said, letting their hands drop. They made their way over to Chan, who was still waiting patiently for them.

“Everything alright?” He asked as soon as they were close enough.

“Mm,” Jeongin smiled at his hyung. Chan couldn’t help but smile back. “Just talking about some things.”

“Do you think we have time to stop for coffee before we go in?” Minho asked casually.

“If you hadn’t loitered outside you might have, but now we’re late,” Chan laughed lightly - both Minho and Jeongin felt their chests ached at the relief they felt at the sound. “Maybe I’ll be able to sneak away to get some snacks while you’re getting your makeup done.”

“You’re the best hyung.” Jeongin grinned as Minho began to race towards the building, not looking back as the other two chased after him, all smiling as if they didn’t have a care in the world.

Chan was feeling... it was difficult to explain, if he was being honest. The rest of the tour went by in a blur, and it was almost as if he had gone through the motions in a fog. Before long, he was sitting on his bed again, staring at the wall.

The beast in his chest had calmed before the end of the tour, leaving him feeling... empty again. He wasn’t depressed, but rather it felt like he had been wrung out and placed on a railing to drip dry.

“Hyung?” The door pushed open.

“Ah...” It took Chan a moment to focus his eyes. “Jinnie.”

“Are you tired?” The younger boy closed the door behind him and sat on the edge of the bed next to Chan. “We can take a nap.”

“I don’t think I could fall asleep even if I tried,” Chan admitted. He wasn’t the best at judging his own emotions, but he knew when he would be able to quiet his mind and when he would be lying awake in his bed for hours on end. “I kinda just wanna...”

He trailed off. He wasn’t sure what he wanted, if he was being honest. He didn’t want to think at all, but he still tried to form a thought. Just one. Just a single, coherent thought... but his mind felt almost foggy again.

“Wanna just lay down then?” Hyunjin asked, already pushing Chan down onto the bed, despite the fact that they were both still in the clothing they had been traveling in. Chan put up no resistance, letting himself be manhandled into a comfortable position. Hyunjin wrapped his arms around Chan, gently running his fingers through the older boy’s hair.

“Mm, thanks Jinnie,” Chan hummed happily, leaning into the touch. “That feels... very nice.”

“Of course hyung,” Hyunjin giggled at the soft smile on Chan’s face. He continued to play with Chan’s hair as the older boy’s eyes drifted shut. “You’re so cute.”

“Mm, Jinnie’s cuter.” Chan mumbled, turning his face so it was half buried in his pillow just enough that his hair was still available to be played with.

“Nah, hyung’s cutest,” Hyunjin argued gently. Chan huffed a chuckle but didn’t push it anymore. He was just enjoying the feeling of Hyunjin’s warmth soaking into his tired limbs and fingers carding through his still damp hair. He had showered the second they had gotten back to the dorm, finally washing all the gel and spray out that hotel showers were never able to do properly. “How are you feeling?”

“Comfortable,” Chan answered, but he knew that wasn’t what Hyunjin meant. “Can I be honest with you?”

“Of course hyung.”

“I get jealous when you all cuddle with each other but not with me,” It was something that had bothered him for a long time, but this was the first time he had ever vocalized it. He felt the fingers playing with his bangs hesitate before moving again. “I... I get that you don’t want to bother me when I’m sleeping, but I want you to come sleep with me even if I’ve been at the studio all night. I feel like- like you all don’t like me as much as each other. Like I’m being isolated and it makes me feel small and worthless.”

“Oh hyung...” Hyunjin’s throat stung. “We didn’t mean to do that.”

“I know you didn’t, that’s why I never said anything,” Chan sighed. “I didn’t want anyone to feel guilty about anything.”

“Thank you for telling me.”

“I don’t like talking about my feelings,” He admitted softly. Hyunjin was glad he had closed the door behind him because otherwise he probably wouldn’t have been able to hear the older boy at all. “It’s really fucking hard to say this, but... but you don’t deserve to be my emotional punching bags when I screw myself over.”

“It’s alright hyung. We know you’d never hurt us.”

“I just... it’s so hard Jinnie,” Chan curled in on himself. “I hate this. I hate feeling like I have to be on edge all the time. I hate being afraid I’m going to lash out and hurt someone...”

“It’s okay to be afraid,” Hyunjin continued to run his hand through Chan’s hair. He could tell the repetitive movement was keeping the older boy calm. “You’re allowed to be scared. It doesn’t make you weak, or broken.”

“Innie thinks I should find a therapist.”

“What do you think about that?” Hyunjin wanted to scream YES PLEASE LET YOURSELF BE HELPED YOU DON’T DESERVE TO HURT but he kept his voice level and soft.

“I don’t know,” His chest felt weirdly tight but his anxiety didn’t spike. He knew it was because of Hyunjin and wished there was a way he could repay his members for everything they had done for him. “I know he’s right, but if the media finds out...”

“Mental illness isn’t as stigmatized anymore,” Hyunjin pointed out. “A lot of idols take time off to take care of their mental health.”

“I don’t want to disappoint anyone... I can’t be lazy.”

“You wouldn’t be lazy, you’d be healing,” Hyunjin could understand where Chan’s fears were coming from, and it broke his heart. “Think of how much music you’ll be able to make once you’re able to control your ups and downs better. Stays love what you produce already. They’ll love what you make in the future even more.”

“What if I can’t make anything good anymore?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve written those songs because I’m fucked up,” Chan sighed. “If I’m not as fucked up... what if my music isn’t as good?”

“That’s not how that works,” Hyunjin chuckled. “Your music is good because you’re an amazing producer and an amazing hyung.”

“Thank you Jinnie.”

“Of course hyung.”

“I kinda wanna take a nap.”

“Mm, I’m pretty tired too,” Hyunjin shifted so he was laying down entirely next to the other boy. “If they don’t wake us for dinner, we can beat them up.”

“Perfect.” Chan chuckled, burying his face in Hyunjin’s chest.

Chan couldn’t look away from his computer, but he wasn’t able to see anything. His eyes stung and watered but blinking felt like too much. How long has he felt like this? He wasn’t sure what day it was, so he couldn’t tell how long this depressive episode was. If he really had to guess, he would say three or four days, but it all blended together in a long, blurry tunnel of time.

His phone vibrated, but his eyes stayed trained on his computer. The song he had been working on in his free time was up, but he hadn’t made any progress.

There was a reason it was a personal project - every time he had an idea for it, he hit a wall almost immediately, leaving him feeling frustrated and disappointed. Even if he was able to complete it, it wouldn’t be fit for the group. It was too personal - too dark and too detailed. JYP was pretty lenient with some of the things Stray Kids sang about, but this would cross every line.

The phone stopped vibrating and Chan felt he was able to breathe again. He couldn’t talk to anyone. He just couldn’t do it. He knew the others were worried, but he couldn’t bring himself to gather the effort it would take to hold a conversation.

His phone started vibrating again. He managed to drag his eyes away from the screen to glance at who was calling and felt his stomach drop.

Seungmin’s contact showed on the top of the call. Chan reached out and grabbed his phone as quickly as he could manage.

Out of all of his boys, Seungmin never called anyone for any reason. He would pick a different place to order food if the restaurant didn’t have an option to order online. He said it was just because he didn’t like talking on the phone, but Chan knew there was something more behind it. When he had tried to bring up the idea of phone anxiety with the younger boy, Seungmin just brushed it off saying he was too lazy to talk to anyone.

“Minnie?” Chan answered, a frantic note behind his voice. “Is something wrong? Is someone hurt? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine hyung,” He sounded off, but Chan couldn’t pinpoint why. “Are you still at the studio?”

“Uh, yeah...” Chan glanced back at the computer and scowled a little. “Are you sure everything is okay?”

“I’m on my way.”

“What? You don’t have to do that,” Chan frowned. It was their day off - Seungmin shouldn’t be wasting his freetime on Chan. “What about that show you wanted to watch?”

“I got bored,” Seungmin sounded like he was moving. “Save whatever you’re working on. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

“But-” Chan started, only to be cut off by the sound of the call ending. He blinked at the phone for a moment before a small smile lifted the corner of his mouth. He did as he was told and saved his files, his hands moving slowly, as if they were filled with sand. His head felt heavy, and he felt as though the only way he would survive this was if he didn’t move for the next few hours.

Even breathing was too much movement at the moment, but he couldn’t stop doing that - as much as he would like to sometimes.

Suddenly, there were hands on his face. Chan flinched away violently, his eyes watering from how long he hadn’t blinked.

“Hyung?” Seungmin asked softly. Chan finally blinked rapidly, a tear running down his cheek.

“Seungmin? When did you get here?” his voice sounded faint to his own ears.

“I’ve called you a few times but you didn’t hear me,” Seungmin was frowning. It made Chan’s stomach sink. “Come on, we’re getting food.”

“What?”

“You haven’t eaten yet,” It wasn’t a question. Chan looked away, ashamed. “Grab your jacket.”

“I’m sorry-”

“Shut up hyung,” Seungmin glanced back at Chan, a small smile tugging at his lips. The pressure in Chan’s chest lightened a little. “I want chicken. Is that okay with you?”

“Uh, yeah anything’s fine.” Chan allowed himself to be tugged down the hall. His feet were heavy but it seemed Seungmin was strong enough to pull both Chan and the cement weighing him down.

His mind began to wander. His stomach growled, but the pain of his hunger seemed to get lost in the numbness of the rest of his body. A car honked close to then and for a single, fleeting moment Chan wondered what it would feel like if he stepped in front of it.

Would it erase the cold numbness that made it hard for him to breathe? If he survived, would it be enough to snap him out of whatever fog he was made a slave of? If he died, would he finally be free-?

“Hyung-” Seungmin jerked him roughly, almost making him lose his footing completely.

“What?” Chan blinked. Where were they? When had they gotten to the chicken place?

“You tried to step into the road...” Seungmin’s eyes were wide and scared, and there was a note of trembling behind his words. Chan’s stomach sank again. Why was he so worthless? Why was he making poor Seungmin deal with his pathetic, useless ass? Why couldn’t the younger boy just let him walk into the street and- “Hyung? Please look at me.”

“Minnie,” Talking hurt. Chan wanted to gasp for air, but it was too much effort. Why did his cheeks suddenly feel so cold? It wasn’t raining. “I’m s-sorry-”

“Come on,” Seungmin’s grip on his hand only tightened. “We can get dinner to go and head back to the dorm. I’m sure the others’ll be grateful if we brought some back for them.”

Chan knew Seungmin wanted to say something, but the younger boy never did. They went over to the nice woman running the stand and ordered eight sets of chicken. Chan tried to reach for his wallet, but his hands were cuffed to weights and Seungmin beat him to it, handing the woman the company card.

Seungmin knew the others decided to get their own dinner, so getting a portion for all of them guaranteed extras, and extras meant Chan might actually eat a healthy amount for what felt like the first time in years.

“Here, carry this for me?” Seungmin asked, handing Chan half the bags. Chan took them robotically, his fingers closing stiffly around the plastic handles. Seungmin took his other hand again, tugging him gently in the direction of the dorms.

Chan’s fog filled mind briefly registered that Seungmin had placed himself between the older boy and the road.

Was Chan that much of a danger to himself?

“Hey hyung?”

“Yeah?” The one word felt impossible to let out.

“It’ll be okay,” Seungmin didn’t look back as he led them both home. “I know it’s hard for you right now, but this won’t last forever. You’ll be better soon, so... fight through this, okay?”

“It’s hard Minnie.” Chan didn’t want to burden Seungmin, but the words seemed to spill from chapped lips. “I’m so tired.”

“I know hyung, but we’re almost home.” Seungmin knew Chan didn’t just mean physically tired, but at least at home he didn’t have to put on a mask - at least, not as much of a mask as he wore in public. “After we eat, we can watch a movie. Jeongin got that new blanket and I’m sure he’ll let us use it if we asked.”

“The soft one?” Chan looked up from the sidewalk for the first time since leaving the chicken place. Seungmin glanced back and smiled a little.

“Mm, the soft one,” He confirmed, and Chan felt his shoulders relax a little. “We’re going to have to fight to cuddle with you, but that’s okay. I’ll win regardless.”

“Fight?” Chan couldn’t stop the breathy huff of a laugh from escaping.

“Everyone wants to cuddle with you, but you only have two arms,” Seungmin sounded like he was pouting, but he wasn’t looking back so Chan had no way of knowing. “It’s not fair, hyung. Grow more arms so we can all hug you.”

“I’ll do my best.” Chan’s lips turned up again, and this time it didn’t feel nearly as heavy.

“Oh, and hyung?”

“Mm?”

“If Felix says I cheated, don’t listen to him,” Seungmin smirked back at Chan. “He’s being a little shit and has been sabotaging us so he can sit with you more.”

Chan couldn’t help but grin at that. Seungmin continued to lead them towards the dorm, the smell of chicken making Chan’s stomach growl loudly. For the first time in days, Chan didn’t feel sick at the thought of eating - maybe it was the idea of having dinner with his boys that made it more palatable, or maybe because Seungmin somehow managed to scrape some of the sludge off him. Either way, Chan found he was almost excited to get home.

Chapter Text

Chan cracked open a new can of Monster. Normally he wasn’t the most fond of energy drinks in general, but there were so many colors and why shouldn’t he try every single flavor? He was already four into the day and as of that moment, his favorite was the white.

“Hyung?” A knock at the door. Chan blinked, his hands twitching.

“Come in!” He called, a little too loud and a little too fast. He tapped his fingers on his electronic keyboard, listening to the rapid notes in his earphones. He twitched again, his shoulders tensing for no reason.

“How’s the song coming?” Jeongin pushed his way into the studio, his bangs parted as though they were soaked but his shirt completely dried. He must have changed after practicing so he could come check up on Chan.

“Good!” Chan grinned and bounced a little in his seat. He could feel his pulse thrumming in his veins and he wanted to keep the nice feeling of the sparklers running through his blood - he felt like he could do anything! “I started on the one Binnie and Sungie had started with me but I started to think about another melody that could work with a beat I’ve been tinkering with here and there. It doesn’t fit the vibe of what we’re going for in this next comeback but maybe I can work the one after that to this sound so I can use this song. I don’t know if it’s title track worthy but if I work with it enough it might be okay as a B side? I feel like it would be fun to perform at least. There could be some really fun choreography to go with it - I’m picturing something like Side Effects that tell more of a story?”

“How many of those have you had?” Jeongin glanced at the Monster can on Chan’s desk. It was the red one. Chan wasn’t mad at it honestly, though in his opinion it did taste a little like cough syrup. It wasn’t bad at all.

“Uh...” He glanced to the side, where the other cans were stacked carefully. White, green, teal and orange mixed together in an odd but fun combination. The red would fit well, but he should have a cool toned one next to even them out-

“Shit hyung, did you drink all of those today?” Jeongin raised an eyebrow at the silence that followed his question. He couldn’t help but sigh a little. In the last few months, Chan had been much better with being open about his episodes. A few times a member had found him curled up, muffling his sobs, or running on the treadmill for three hours straight, and they had to carefully pry their oldest from his own mind.

Jeongin knew Chan was going to be manic soon. Not only did it follow the tentative pattern the elder tended to fall into, but also because Chan had been acting a little too chipper the last few days. He had been a little too productive - Scrubbing out the fridge and meal prepping for all eight of them for at least five days in advance. Suddenly trying to get them to go out with him for random adventures to get ice cream or dinner. Pushing himself harder and harder during dance practices, only to go directly to the gym after.

“I didn’t know there were so many flavors,” Chan grinned wide. His foot tapped faster than usual, making the whole desk shake and the cans clatter against each other. “And they’re all so bright.”

“The cans or the drinks themselves?”

“Both!” Chan laughed happily. His head twitched a little, causing him to shake it as if to gather his thoughts. He ran his hands though his bangs almost roughly. “Ah Innie, I’m so glad you came to see me.”

He stood and quickly rushed over to the younger boy, scooping him into his arms and lifting him off the ground as if Jeongin was weightless. Jeongin couldn’t help but wrap his arms around Chan’s neck, partially to steady himself and partially because he just loved how much the older boy loved hugs. Chan snuggled his face into Jeongin’s shoulder, grinning against the boy’s skin as he placed his feet back on the ground.

“Mm, you’re so warm Innie,” Chan sighed happily, letting himself relax into the embrace before quickly standing upright and pulling away. “I forgot I opened a new can! Did you want to try it? I didn’t think red had a flavor but it absolutely does.”

“Here hyung, drink this before you have anymore,” Jeongin dug in his bag and pulled out a full water bottle. Chan took it and looked at it for a moment, as if he wasn’t sure what exactly it was. Finally he cracked the cap and drained it. He hadn’t realized how dehydrated he was until the first sip of water ran down his throat. “Have you eaten yet?”

“Mm?” Chan blinked at him. He tried to recall if he had breakfast, but the longer the silence stretched the farther Jeongin’s mouth fell into a frown.

“Come on hyung, I’m hungry too.” Jeongin waited for Chan to comprehend what he was saying and start to pack up his things. He knew trying to get Chan to eat for his own good would only end in the older boy making some excuse, but if Jeongin said it was because he was hungry, Chan would never deny him.

“Ready?” Chan asked, bag slung over his shoulder and can in hand. Before Jeongin could nod, Chan quickly drained the rest of the Monster and stacked the can with the others, almost tenderly placing it on top of one of the others so the pile wouldn’t tumble over onto the desk.

They made their way from the building towards the barbeque place around the corner from their dorms that they often frequented. Chan was practically buzzing, chattering faster and faster as they walked. Jeongin just listened, letting Chan burn through his manic energy. He was honestly just glad Chan wasn’t hiding himself away like he tended to when his emotions either spiked or dropped too drastically.

“Hyung?”

“Huh?” Chan stopped mid sentence, blinking rapidly at the younger boy. Jeongin gave him a small smile.

“Nothing, I’m just excited to get some dinner,” He said. It wasn’t what he had been wanting to say - he wanted to say thank you, for trusting me. He wanted to say thank you for letting me help. He wanted to say sorry there isn’t more I can do to help. There was a lot he wanted to say, but he refrained. “I missed lunch because I lost track of time so I’m starving and the other’s are gonna be jealous that I got to take you out to dinner without them.”

“Innie, you have to pay more attention to what you eat,” Chan frowned a little. Jeongin rolled his eyes a little at the older boy’s unintentional hypocrisy. “You’re a growing boy. You have to eat.”

“Hyung, I don’t think I’m going to be growing much more,” Jeongin chuckled. He was already the third tallest in the dorm and the shorter members hated how he managed to shoot up an extra two inches in the past year. “If I did, Changbin hyung would never talk to me again.”

“He’d get over it,” Chan laughed happily. “Besides, he would just get another set of inserts for his shoes.”

“He hates wearing inserts.”

“He’d do it if it meant being taller than you.” Chan slung his arm over Jeongin’s shoulders, causing the younger boy to stumble.

They made their way into the restaurant, Chan starting another quickly spoken rant about something Jeongin genuinely couldn’t follow. He just nodded along as Chan kept going, the nice hostess bringing them back to an empty table.

Chan said something quickly to the waitress as Jeongin sent a quick message to the rest of the group, letting them know what the plan for the evening was. Chan started yet another rambling conversation, Jeongin just nodding along as they waited for their food. His stomach was starting to cramp from how hungry he was, which was only made worse by how good the rest of the room smelled.

“Ah, perfect.” Chan grinned as their meats, vegetables and drinks arrived. He instantly started putting the strips of beef on the grill, making sure they were closer to Jeongin. The younger only realized what Chan had ordered when the older boy cracked the cap of the green bottle open.

“Should you be drinking?” Jeongin asked, not entirely comfortable letting Chan drink soju when he was both manic and pumped full of obscene amounts of caffeine.

“Just one night won’t kill us,” Chan laughed, the sound full and lively. It caught Jeongin off guard a little - Chan had several kinds of laughs, like his little giggle when he was embarrassed, and the chuckle when his members did something endearing, but his full chest laugh was something that wasn’t heard often. “Here Innie, you’re an adult now.”

He poured Jeongin a glass and slid it over before pouring his own. He raised his in a salute, waiting for Jeongin to bring his to his mouth. They threw it back easily, the soju going down with just a faint burn. Chan instantly refilled Jeongin’s cup before he started flipping their dinner. Jeongin took the green bottle and refilled Chan’s glass, shaking his head a little at his leader’s antics. It was as if Chan threw away all social expectations as long as it meant his boys were taken care of first.

As soon as Chan started piling the steaming food onto his plate, Jeongin all but forgot about the soju or even his concern about the other boy consuming it in favor of eating before anything cooled down properly. Chan laughed again as the younger boy grimaced and stuck his tongue out after burning it on the beef, only for Jeongin to quickly try to eat it again without giving the piece a moment.

They ate and chatted, Chan’s speech slowing to a more normal speed as he filled his stomach with barbecue and soju. Jeongin felt like he was going to explode by the time he put his chopsticks down, and he was very excited to get back to the dorms and find the closest member to act as a bed for him to nap on.

“Hyung, we should probably head back-” Jeongin cut himself off, a small frown on his face when he finally noticed just how many green bottles were on their table. Chan was resting his chin in one palm as he slowly nibbled on the last of the meats, his face extremely flushed and his eyes unfocused. Jeongin had only had a few shots, his head comfortably fuzzy but his mind still working just fine, which meant Chan alone had consumed at least two full bottles on his own...

“Innie~” Chan giggled, and it was a giggle Jeongin had never heard from the older boy.

“Hyung, you’re drunk.”

“Mm, hyungie is just having a good time,” Chan giggled again, his eyes fluttering closed briefly. Jeongin felt like he could smack himself - he knew when Chan got manic, he tried to test his limits. If he had been testing his limits with caffeine earlier that day, or course he was testing his limits with the alcohol as well. “I’m so lucky to have such a pretty maknae. You’re so talented and handsome and I’m so proud of you.”

“I’m proud of you too hyung,” Jeongin sighed, unable to help but smile at the older boy, who returned it with an even bigger grin. “I’m going to pay, so stay here.”

“Here baby,” Chan pulled out his wallet and handed the younger boy his personal card, almost dropping it onto the grill - thankfully Jeongin had turned it off a little while ago. Jeongin caught it before it could hit the table. “You should let hyungie buy you more things. Oh! We could go shopping after this! I wanna g-get everyone gifts... you’ve all been working so hard. You deserve nice things...”

“We can go shopping tomorrow if you want,” Jeongin reached over and smoothed down the older boy’s bangs, which were starting to get messy from Chan running his fingers through them. “But tonight we should go straight back to the dorms.”

“Mm, whatever Innie says~” Chan’s head lolled to the side, his grin never fading.

Jeongin quickly paid and got back to the table. Much to his relief, Chan hadn’t moved a single muscle and was still nibbling blankly at the last piece of beef.

“Ready hyung?” Jeongin asked, picking up both of their bags.

“Mm, I love you,” Chan said, pulling the younger boy into a hug. Jeongin gently pushed Chan away, taking the elder’s hand and tugged him from the restaurant. Chan sang happily, not putting up a single iota of a fight as Jeongin led them back to the dorms. “We’re back already? Did we teleport?”

“No hyung, you’re just drunk,” Jeongin chuckled a little. Chan was cute when he was drunk, but the older boy didn’t drink enough for any of the younger members to be that familiar with him while intoxicated. This was actually the first time Jeongin had ever seen Chan drink, let alone be drunk. “You’re going to feel like shit tomorrow.”

“Nah... I don’t get hangovers.” Chan giggled again, leaning heavily against Jeongin as the younger boy tapped in the code to get into the dorm.

“You do this a lot?” Jeongin didn’t like the implications of Chan’s claim.

“Eh, not that much,” Chan pouted. Voices were coming from the dorm, having been notified by the sounds of the door opening. Jisung was the first to poke his head around the corner and instantly frowned at the sight of his leader leaning heavily on Jeongin again. “No need to worry baby. Hyungie’s A-okay.”

“Let’s get you to your room,” Jeongin half carried, half led Chan to the older boy’s room, the door thankfully already opened. He could hear Felix talking to someone from another room, but he didn’t know who. “Here, sit on the bed for me?”

“Innie’s taking such good care of hyungie.” Chan hummed happily, bobbing his head from side to side, as if swaying to a silent song. Jeongin, despite wanting to be a little irritated, found himself smiling again. Chan was so cute.

“Come on hyung, let’s get you dressed for bed, okay?” Jeongin went back over to the older boy, a pile of clothing in his arms. Chan blinked at him for a moment before nodding clumsily. He tugged his shirt off, only struggling a little as the neck got caught around his nose before tossing it onto the floor. Jeongin tried not to look at the lines on the older boy’s side, but it was hard not to.

They were pink - healing but still new. He had relapsed two months prior after a horrendous depressive episode. It had been one of the many tipping points that led Chan to opening up to the other boys more.

“It’s okay baby, they don’t hurt anymore.” Chan’s voice was soft, pulling Jeongin from his thoughts. He looked up and met the older boy’s eyes, which were slightly more focused. There was a note of melancholy in Chan’s gaze that made Jeongin’s chest ache.

“I’m proud of you hyung,” Jeongin whispered, slipping the shirt on over Chan’s head. He let his fingers trail softly against the raised lines, his stomach twisting with guilt. He wished he had been there for his hyung, but he had been pushing himself at extra dance practice, leaving Chan alone in the dorm... he blinked the thoughts away as he helped Chan shimmy off his jeans, which were tossed somewhere across the room. “You’ve been doing so good.”

“It’s all because of my boys,” Chan rested his forehead against the top of Jeongin’s head, the younger kneeling in front of him with a pair of sweatpants in his hands. “You all take such good care of me.”

"You’d do the same for us,” Jeongin’s eyes stung. Chan’s thigh was a mess of fading lines, crisscrossing and marring his skin with pinks and whites. Jeongin remembered the last time he had seen the scars-

Jeongin held Chan close, the older boy sobbing painfully. Jeongin had walked in on Chan holding a razor to his thigh, only one line of red beading up.

“Hyung...” Jeongin whispered sadly, knowing the older boy probably didn’t even hear him over the sobs.

“It hurts Innie,” He all but screamed. Jeongin saw how Chan was trying to claw at his thigh and quickly pinned his arms to his sides. Chan only struggled for a moment before collapsing bonelessly in the younger’s lap. “I-it hurts...”

“I know hyung, but it won’t hurt forever,” Jeongin was doing his best not to cry but found himself unable to hold back. Tears dripped into Chan’s hair. “You’re going to be okay. You’ve been working so hard. I’m so proud of you.”

“I’m so sorry... I’m an awful hyung,” Chan whispered sadly. “I should be better for you.”

“You’re the best hyung I could ask for,” Jeongin pet Chan’s hair. The older boy relaxed at the gentle touch. “Thank you, for always being there for me.”

“Please don’t leave...”

“Never hyung.”

“Are you tired hyung?” Jeongin asked, already helping Chan lie down. Chan just nodded softly, his mouth twisted in a cute pout. Jeongin almost wished he could take a picture, but he knew Chan wouldn’t be happy about it in the morning. “Okay, close your eyes.”

“Stay?” Chan whispered, his eyes glassy.”

“Of course.” Jeongin smiled and climbed into bed with Chan. The older boy instantly wrapped his arms around him, cuddling into the younger’s warmth. Jeongin sighed and shot a quick text to the groupchat, asking someone to put some painkillers and a bucket next to Chan’s bed for the morning before putting his phone aside and settling down against the pillows.

Chan was already fast asleep, his breathing even and calm. Jeongin pressed a kiss to the older boy’s forehead, his chest warming. Chan really trusted Jeonign, and that was all the younger could ever wish for.

Chan scrubbed the bathroom, the cheap plastic gloves just covering his wrists and the scent of bleach burning his nose. He wasn’t normally the overly tidy type, but since they had all been so busy, the state of the dorm had fallen into filth. Chan was taking advantage of their day off to get a jump on the chores around the dorm, starting with the bathroom.

It definitely helped that it was four in the morning, so no one would interrupt his work until long after he was finished. It would be nice for the bathroom to be spotless for a least a little while before the grime of eight boys smudged their way through the day.

He tried to ignore how the electricity, while starting to dim, were still goading him into doing more, more, MORE until he couldn’t do anything-

He moved onto the floor, scrubbing off the various makeup and soaps and who knows what that had dried to the tiles. He felt like he should be doing more, the fireworks in his blood singing as he worked more and more. He had been cleaning the bathroom for an hour now, and then he was planning to work on the kitchen, then the living room, then the bedrooms one by one. Maybe he would even get the chance to pick up some houseplants to place around the dorm - he had been wanting to liven the rooms up with some leafy greens, but always hesitated because he was worried they would be too busy to water them properly.

Chan froze, the sound of his breathing bouncing heavily off the floor and the walls. He stared at the brown smudge soaked into the grout between the tiles. It could have been any number of things, but Chan knew.

He knew that not only was it blood, but that it was his own blood.

He knew that, because this was the exact place he had tried to hide away from his members, biting his knuckles hard enough to break the skin in order to keep himself silent. Poor Seungmin had been the one to find him - the younger boy didn’t deserve to see his leader being so pitiful and weak, blood soaking into his shirt because his thigh was tucked up against his chest to make himself smaller.

That was one of his lowest evenings. It was nearly two months ago, but the feelings were still clear. The fear, and the hopelessness and the self repulsion. He hated himself in that moment, and he hated Seungmin for trying to help him, because he didn’t deserve it-

Chan hadn’t been the one to clean the bathroom after. If he had been, not a single drop would have been missed, but because someone else did the cleaning, they didn’t notice how the blood must have run along the indent between the tiles, soaking into the lines just out of direct sight.

How had he never noticed this before? Had they really been so busy that he missed a blood stain on the white tile floor? Or was he just so unobservant that it completely escaped his attention?

The bleach stained his eyes as he scrubbed the brown stain. The fire in his blood urged him to work more - work harder. He wanted to see how much he could get done before the others started to wake up, but he was running behind because he was focusing too much on one stupid stain-

Chan threw the sponge down, his throat burning. He needed to move on, no matter how tight his chest felt at the sight of the faint brown whisper. Would anyone else notice it? Or would it be a parasite on Chan alone’s mind any time he walked into the bathroom?

He finished tidying up the bathroom, pulling the shower curtain across the bath evenly and hanging fresh towels on the bar. There was a small pile of dirty towels just outside of the bathroom, but he was planning on running the load after gathering any kitchen towels that needed washing as well.

Arms filled with cleaning supplies, Chan made his way to the kitchen. It was now five in the morning and he wasn’t tired in the slightest. The burning of his eyes was from the bleach, not from exhaustion at all. He placed the things down on the counter, putting the bucket he used the bleach in to clean the tiles on the floor next to the table, and went into the fridge pulling out one of the few cans of Monster he had left. Jeongin had thoroughly scolded him after their night of drinking, telling Chan he was only allowed to have the ones he already bought and not a single can more.

He knew Jeonign cared about his health, but Chan couldn’t help but feel a little irritated at being told what to do - not just because Jeongin was younger, but because he knew his own limits better than anyone, so who was Jeongin to try and dictate what Chan can and can not do to his own body?

He shook his head. He shouldn’t think that way. He knew Jeongin just cared about his health, and that he was the one being unreasonable.

With a calming breath, Chan looked around the kitchen. It was nearly as disgusting as the bathroom had been, but there was still a good amount of work for him to do. Starting with the dishes, he lost himself in his thoughts.

He still didn’t know what was going on with him, but he felt more comfortable in his own skin recently, which didn’t sound like much but was a huge deal to him. His manager had been hinting that maybe Chan should talk to a therapist, but he always brushed it off - he was busy, or the group had too much to stress about already, or he was already coming out of the depressive episode so there was no reason to make a fuss because he would be fine in a few days.

“Hyung? What’re you doing up?” Changbin muttered from the doorway, messing his bangs up sleepily. Chan jumped, dropping a soapy bowl back into the sink with a loud clunk.

“Bin,” Chan turned to his friend with a smile that felt a little too wide on his face. “You’re the one up early. It’s our day off, why are you awake already?”

“I had to pee,” Changbin’s eyes were barely open, his voice hoarse. “Why does the bathroom smell like you dumped a bottle of bleach on the floor?”

“Just doing a little bit of cleaning now that we have the time,” Chan turned back to the dishes. It didn’t escape his attention that his hands were shaking enough to stir up the water, causing bubbles to appear.

“How long have you been awake?” Changbin sounded more awake now, fatigue replaced with concern. Chan didn’t like the worried edge to the younger boy’s tone.

“Doesn’t matter,” Chan chuckled. “Want some breakfast? I can make you some eggs while I finish up here.”

“Want some help?”

"Nah, I got this,” Chan’s smile felt more natural. “Go sit, I’ll make you a cup of coffee.”

He pulled the plug at the bottom of the sink and watched the water swirl down the drain as he pulled his gloves off, draping them over the edge of the bucket. His fingers felt a little gross from being in the gloves for so long, so he washed his hands quickly before going over to the fridge.

“Shit! Hyung what the fuck?” Changbin was suddenly at his side, his fingers dancing over the skin of his forearm.

“Huh?” Chan blinked, looking down. It took a moment, but he realized why Changbin was so upset.

There was a distinct line where his gloves had ended, the skin above it bright red and warm to the touch. Now that it had been brought to his attention, Chan couldn’t ignore how his arms felt slightly burnt, like he had been in the sun too long.

“What happened?” Changbin held Chan’s arm as if he were afraid touching the older boy’s skin too much would make him burst into flames.

“Huh, I guess some of the cleaning stuff got on my arm,” Chan said casually, only faintly remembering how the bleach and the shower cleaner and the chemicals to unclog the drain had splashed up on him here and there. It hadn’t hurt at the time, but now it was starting to burn a little. “It’s alright, it doesn’t hurt that badly.”

“Hyung! This is serious,” Changbin glanced around the kitchen, trying to think of what he should do. His mind was still foggy from sleep, but his heart was beating too fast for comfort. He rushed to the sink and wet a towel before gently wiping the skin of Chan’s arms to remove any chemicals that might have been left. “We should go to the hospital-”

“That’s overkill,” Chan took his arm back with a kind but stiff smile. He had his entire day planned out, and going to the hospital was NOT part of that plan. “Besides, I have to finish cleaning the dorms before our free day is over-”

“The others can handle that,” Changbin put the towel on the counter and turned back to the older boy with a frown. “It’s better safe than sorry. Chemical burns aren’t something to fuck around with.”

“It’s not that bad,” Chan couldn’t help but roll his eyes a little. The coffee maker beeped, telling Chan he could slip in the pod and brew the cup for Changbin. He knew exactly how the younger boy took his coffee, with two teaspoons of honey and a splash of creamer. Changbin was the only one in the dorm that liked honey in his hot drinks, but Chan still made sure there was plenty in the cabinet just for him. “What kind of leader would I be if I abandoned my precious boys?”

“Hyung...” Changbin frowned, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Seriously Binnie, don’t worry about it.” Chan handed Changbin the mug, trying to make his smile seem as calm and genuine as possible despite the anxiety starting to grow in his chest.

“It’s too fucking early for this shit...” Minho shuffled into the kitchen, looking like he had just been hit by a bus.

“Why are you up so early Min?” Chan was grateful for the distraction.

“I heard voices and couldn’t go back to sleep,” He sighed and sat heavily at the table, letting his chin rest on the wood. “Why are you guys making so much noise?”

“I was just making Binnie some breakfast,” Chan turned back to the stove. “Do you want some eggs too?”

“Sure...” He yawned wide, showing his teeth in the process before clicking his mouth shut again.

“Hyung?” Changbin turned to Minho, who cracked a single eye open to show he had heard the younger boy. “Chan hyung got hurt this morning but he won’t let me take him to the hospital.”

“What?” Minho was definitely more awake now. Chan froze, resisting the urge to groan in frustration.

“I’m fine,” He said, his tone a little sharper than he had meant it to be. “It’s not that bad. Bin’s just paranoid.”

“What happened?” Minho asked, turning his question towards Changbin.

“He was cleaning all morning and got the chemicals all over his arms,” Changbin glanced back at the older boy, who was purposely ignoring them in favor of focusing on making breakfast for the other two. “His skin is all red and irritated but he keeps saying it’s fine.”

“You should go to the hospital hyung,” Minho stared at the back of Chan’s head from his place at the table. “Isn’t it better to be safe than sorry? Besides, the sooner you go the sooner you can come back.”

“I have too much to do today,” It was just another excuse, but Chan was getting a little desperate. He really didn’t need to go to the hospital! He was fine! Sure, his arms burned a little and the smell of bleach was still clinging to the inside of his nose, but he had too many plans and he needed every minute of the day. “I can’t waste time going to the hospital for no reason.”

“What do you have planned?” Minho asked, but Chan could hear the challenge behind his words.

“I... I have to finish cleaning the kitchen, and the living room and the laundry... then I was going to clean the bedrooms and get groceries and-”

“We can take care of all that,” Minho cut him off. “Changbin, make sure he gets seen by a doctor as quickly as possible.”

“Minho-” Chan scowled.

“Yes hyung,” Changbin nodded before looking back to Chan. “You can trust them to get everything cleaned up. Please let me take you to the hospital?”

“...” Chan glanced between the two, debating the usefulness of arguing only to realize there was no point. “Fine...”

“Good,” Minho nodded. “Keep me updated okay? I’ll make sure the kids pull their weight while you’re gone.”

“Let’s go hyung,” Changbin turned to the eldest. “Meet me at the front door in five minutes.”

Chan fought back a scowl as he nodded and left the kitchen. In his room, Felix still slept peacefully, but his own and Changbin’s beds were a mess, the sheets and pillows in heaps on the mattresses. He slipped on jeans before grabbing his phone, wallet and mask and heading to the front door.

“I know you’re pissed, but it’s for your own good,” Changbin said as they made their way down to the street. He was texting someone but he was just far away enough that Chan couldn’t see who it was. “Hate me all you want.”

“I could never hate you,” Chan said instantly, his chest tugging painfully. Did Changbin really think Chan would hate him because of this? “I’m just-”

“I know,” Changbin slipped his phone into his pocket and smiled at the older boy. “I just care about you a lot. If something like this happened to any of us, you’d literally kidnap us to make sure we went to see a doctor.”

Chan didn’t have anything to say to that, because Changbin was right. There had been several instances since their debut where he had physically slung a younger member over his shoulder and brought him back to the dorm when he refused to stop dancing. A car pulled up and Changbin opened the door for them. Their manager turned from the driver seat and gave them both a tired smile.

“You good Channie?” He asked, his voice low and rough. Changbin’s text must have woken him up.

“Mm, just burns a little,” He admitted, buckling himself up. “It’s really not that bad.”

“Better safe than sorry.” The man hummed, pulling out onto the main road.

They drove in silence, Chan trying not to scratch at his arms. Now that he was aware of it, he couldn’t ignore the burning sensation spanning from his wrist to just below his elbow. He felt a hand on his own and looked to his left to see Changbin stopping the older boy from digging his short nails into his arm. Red lines were already standing out against the flushed rash, the claw marks left by his nails instantly warm to the touch.

“I’ll wait in the parking lot, okay?” The manager said as they parked in front of the hospital. The boys nodded and climbed from the car, heading towards the main doors. Chan found himself getting more and more anxious the closer they got. Would the doctors mock him for being stupid? What kind of idiot let himself fuck up so badly while cleaning? The fireworks under his veins were yelling at him, scolding him.

Not for being reckless, but for being caught in the first place.

He didn’t even notice Changbin talking to the nurse until he felt someone’s hand on his elbow, gently leading him towards a table.

The doctor came over quickly and started asking questions. Most Chan could answer easily, but some made him hesitate.

“When did this happen?”

“Like an hour ago?” Longer than that, but he didn’t want to admit to scrubbing the bathroom at three in the morning.

“Are you normally up this early?”

“Sort of.” Does it count as being up early if you never went to sleep in the first place?

“Do you have trouble sleeping?”

“Uh... sometimes.” Talk about an understatement. He could feel Changbin’s eyes on him for that answer.

“I see you scratched your arm a bit. Did it hurt?”

“A little bit. It burns more than anything.” Oh, the scratch lines hadn’t faded?

“Did you hurt yourself on purpose?”

Chan felt himself freeze. Could he know? Could the doctor be onto him? Was the doctor going to lock him away for being crazy?

“You don't have to answer if it makes you uncomfortable,” The doctor said before Chan could muster a response. Even though the man seemed calm about it, Chan couldn’t help but feel like he was being judged. “Okay so good news boys. It’s just a minor skin irritation, not a chemical burn. The most I can really do is make sure the area is washed properly and give you some cream that might help with the burning, but it should hopefully fade in the next couple of days.”

“Thank you doctor...” Chan said, his voice sounding a little faint.

“It’s a good thing you came in,” He continued as he dug through one of the cabinets, pulling out a small tube of something. “This time it was just irritation, but chemical burns are extremely serious. Your friend here did a good job getting a majority of the cleaner off your skin before it got worse, but you need to be more careful. Gloves that only reach your wrist are good for dusting but if you’re going to work with chemicals you should really wear the kind that go to the elbow.”

“Yes sir,” Chan took the tube and the note explaining everything the doctor had just told him. “Thank you for your help.”

“Get home safe boys.”

Changbin and Chan left the hospital, making a beeline for the manager’s car and climbed in without a word. Chan handed the man the note, thankful that he didn’t have to talk about it. He felt like an idiot - he should know better. He was the oldest. He was supposed to be someone the other boys looked up to, but now he’s being reckless and stupid.

“Keep me updated, okay?” The manager said as they pulled up to the dorms. “Channie, take tomorrow off too, okay? Physical activity might irritate the rash more. I’ll make sure the boys keep to their schedule, okay?”

“Uh...” Chan didn’t want to take another day off. The electricity in his blood whispered threats, promising to make Chan suffer if he didn’t spend the fireworks properly.

“We’ll make sure he takes it easy,” Changbin promised on Chan’s behalf. The manager nodded, a slight look of trepidation still on his face as the two boys headed towards the dorm building. They walked silently up to their floor, Changbin glancing back over to the older boy every few seconds as if he wanted to say something. Just as they approached their door, he spoke again. “You know we love you, right?”

“Of course.” That was one thing not even Chan’s messed up mind could twist. After everything the others had done for him, there was too much proof of their love for him to pretend he was hated.

“I’m sorry for forcing you to go to the hospital. I’m just glad you’re safe.”

“Sorry for bitching about it,” Chan sighed. Part of him was still irritated that he hadn’t been able to finish his chores before he was dragged out of the dorm for what, in the end, was a useless trip, but he found he couldn’t really direct that irritation at Changbin. “I just... it’s hard to stop when I’m all jittery. I just want to keep going and going until I...”

“Collapse?”

“Mm,” Was he really that transparent? Or did Changbin genuinely know his leader that well? “Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize for anything,” the younger boy said quickly. “Just... just keep letting us help you.”

“I’ll do my best.” Chan chuckled as they pushed their way into the dorm.

For a moment, Chan wondered if they walked into the wrong dorm. The living room was absolutely spotless, the floor almost glowing. From what he could see of the kitchen, everything was perfect, even the appliances reflecting the lights from how shined they were.

“Damn...” Changbin chuckled, looking around. “They really worked their asses off, huh?”

“Hyung!”

“Hyung’s back!”

“Are you alright?”

“What happened?”

“We cleaned everything! Are you proud of us?”

Chan laughed as he was bombarded by six bodies. He hissed under his breath as the rough motions irritated his arms, but he didn’t want to voice it out loud and make the others back away because he was more than happy with how they were hugging him.

“You all did such a good job,” He grinned, trying to keep all seven boys in his arms at once. “It looks amazing in here. I couldn’t have done nearly this good even if I worked all day and you did it all when I was gone.”

“Of course!” Hyunjin grinned. “Anything for our Channie hyung!”

Chan felt his eyes sting but he was smiling too much to care that he was about to cry. He still felt off, and the electricity was starting to hum louder and louder, but in that moment he was content.

“Hyung, wanna watch a movie?” Jisung asked, wrapping his arms fully around the older boy’s waist and resting his cheek on Chan’s shoulder, looking up at his friend with wide, pleading eyes.

“Sure,” Chan knew it was a ruse to get him to cuddle with Jisung, the movie itself almost completely inconsequential. “You wanna pick?”

“Fuck yeah!” Jisung cheered as he raced towards the couch, closely followed by the others. He made a show of kicking Hyunjin off the couch to make room for Chan to sit next to the younger rapper.

The electricity seemed sated by the pure comfort radiating off Chan in that moment.

Chapter Text

Chan stirred the fried rice, making sure the scrambled eggs were evenly dispersed. He had been craving the breakfast fried rice his friends from back home introduced him to, and even though it wasn’t a hard recipe, he hadn’t made it in a long time. The kitchen smelled amazing, and his stomach was starting to cramp from how hungry he was, but it would be worth it when he got to eat his rice.

“Hyung? I thought you were in your studio?” Felix came into the kitchen, his hair sticking up all over the place. Since they had just finished their last tour, they were given a few weeks to relax before they needed to start thinking about the next comeback. Chan, of course, had already started working on some tracks, but that was very in character for him.

The last comeback, the first since he finally opened up, went... surprisingly well. He was stressed, obviously - it’s impossible to not be stressed with all the performances and the traveling and the pressure to be perfect - but he found it wasn’t overwhelming like it normally was. Any time he felt himself slipping into his own thoughts, one of his members would appear to cuddle him, or make sure he ate, or convince him to sleep. Anytime his electricity got too overwhelming, they would help him find healthy ways to spend it. It was thanks to them that Chan was able to survive those months without any new scars.

They had just gotten back to Korea after a very successful world tour just a few days before, and he was starting to come down from his fireworks high that kept him coasting through the comeback. The boys were all doing their own things - Jeongin, Jisung and Seungmin went to the movies, Minho and Hyunjin were at the studio, messing around and trying to piece together choreography that might fit for the next comeback, while Changbin and Felix had been taking a nap in the younger’s bed.

“I wanted fried rice,” Chan said with a smile. “I was going to go over to the company building but I got side tracked.”

“Can I help?” Felix asked with a yawn. He stood being Chan and rested his head on the older boy’s back, leaning into him a little.

“I’m mostly done now but if you wanted to do the dishes I’d really appreciate it.” He chuckled. Felix’s voice was even lower than usual from his nap, his words almost slurring a little. He must have just woken up and come immediately out to the kitchen.

“In a second.” Felix hummed. Chan smiled to himself and steadied his footing so he could keep the younger boy upright. He would let Felix rest for a few moments, but he wouldn’t let him fall asleep standing up.

Chan kept stirring, smiling as the rice browned nicely. Part of him wanted to eat as much as he could before the others came home, because in his experience even a double batch didn’t last more than ten minutes. Another part of him wanted his boys to eat as much as they wanted, because they deserved to be well fed and happy. He took a small bite from the spoon and nodded to himself. Needed a little something more.

He reached across the stove and grabbed the hot sauce, planning on just adding a small dash to the rice. Unfortunately, as he brought his hand back across he misjudged just how large the pan really was.

“Fuck-” He hissed, pulling his hand back as quickly as he could, but the damage was already done. The skin was already red and blistering, and his eyes were stinging from the sudden rush of pain that shot up his arm.

“Hyung?” Felix asked, having been woken from the sudden movement.

“I’m fine,” Chan waved his hand in hopes the wind would ease the burning some. It did not, in fact, help at all. In fact, all it did was aid in Chan smacking his hand against the pan handle, almost knocking the whole thing onto the floor. Out of instinct, he reached out and grabbed for the pan. He managed to throw it back on the stove with only losing a little bit of the rice, but managed to earn another burn. “SHIT-”

“Hyung!” Felix, now wide awake, grabbed Chan by the write and dragged him over to the sink, shoving the older boy’s hand under the cold water. “What were you thinking? You should have just let it drop! We could have made more!”

“I just...” Chan watched the water run over his blistering skin, eyes starting to unfocus a little as the pain continued to radiate up his arm.

His mind was getting fuzzy. Even though the electricity had been calm the last few days, the sudden rush of adrenaline only served to wake it back up again. The thrumming in his veins called out to him, begging him to give it more - more pain, more adrenaline, more recklessness to sate the beast inside of him-

“Chris!” Felix’s voice broke through Chan’s thoughts. Chan blinked, coming back to the present. He realized he hadn’t been breathing, which must have been why his chest ached so badly. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t... know...” The English matched Felix’s, but the words still felt odd slipping from his lips.

“Shit, is it the fireworks?”

“I think so?”

“Shit, okay, okay this is okay,” Felix was starting to panic a little. Despite Chan having been more open in the last few months, but the younger had never seen his leader act like this before - like he was awake but not conscious. Chan just continued to stare at his hand as if he had never seen it before. “Let’s go to the bathroom, okay? We should have something for burns in the first aid kit...”

Felix pulled Chan towards the bathroom, letting the rice sit on the cooling stove.The door to their shared room was cracked open just an inch, the sound of soft snoring crawling out into the hallway.

Felix didn’t like how heavily Chan was leaning against him - the complete silence from the older boy was concerning him greatly.

“Here hyung, sit here,” Felix gently pushed Chan down on the closed toilet seat. Chan did so without hesitation, allowing himself to be moved around like a doll. He dug through the medicine cabinet behind the mirror above the sink, looking at all the various tubes and creams - facial exfoliant, teeth whitener, cough syrup, bruise cream, Chan’s box of sleeping pills, gel for small wounds... “Ah! I knew we still had some.”

Felix reached and grabbed the mostly empty tube of burn relief cream, knocking the box of sleeping pills over. He panicked, afraid of the medication falling down the drain, only for his heart to stop once more.

Instead of pills, what fell out into the sink was a single, spotless razor blade, the shine of the silver almost blinding. With a shaking hand, he picked up the box and checked the date on it before letting out a small whimper.

The last time it had been refilled was nearly a year and a half ago. How had no one noticed Chan stopped renewing his prescription? How did no one think to check the box to see the razor hidden in plain sight?

“H-hyung?” His voice shook, but he refused to cry. He needed to be strong - Chan needed him to be strong.

“Pixie?” The familiar nickname sounded far away. He wanted to say more - he wanted to comfort the younger boy and tell him everything was okay and ask Felix to pretend like this never happened - but it seemed like his words were locked away. He couldn’t bring himself to talk, no matter how badly he wanted to.

“Why-” He cut himself off, realizing Chan wasn’t in the right mindset to talk about this just yet. Instead, Felix put the razor back in the box and slipped the box into his back pocket. He took the burn cream and knelt before the older boy, taking his hand carefully to avoid touching the blisters.

Chan winced as the cool cream was gently applied to his skin. The effects were almost instant, the relief from the burning enough to bring tears to his eyes.

This was the worst version of the fireworks, he decided. The times he was super productive were his favorite, while the times he was dangerously irritated were a thousand times worse. This, however - this feeling of needing to do everything but not being able to move a muscle, feeling like he needed to push himself to do MORE but not being able to bring himself to blink, let alone move - was even worse than the frustration. It was worse, because he felt like a prisoner in his own head, trapped by his muscles that refused to work while his mind continued to run.

“Hyung? Hyung? Chris?” Felix gently tapped Chan’s cheeks to get the older boy’s attention. Chan’s eyes slowly focused on his friend’s face, the realization that he was trembling only came a moment later.

“Lix? What’s g-going on?” He felt like he was dying... his heart was beating too quickly and he felt like his blood was about to start burning its way through his veins, melting him from the inside out. Felix looked at him like he was going to burst into tears. Instead he threw his arms around the older boy, hiding his face in Chan’s chest.

“How are ya feelin?” He asked, the English tasting so familiar yet so strange on his tongue.

“Tired,” Chan admitted. He was more than just tired, but he didn’t know how to verbalize that just yet. “I feel... weird.”

He mindlessly cracked his knuckles - an action he never meant to become a habit but quickly became one of his go-to movements when he started to zone out or panic. Pain shot through his arm as the motion made the blisters on his skin shift. He bit back a pained growl but flexed his hand again, making the pain burn brighter.

“Please...” Felix whispered, taking Chan’s hand in his own smaller ones. Chan blinked, as if he didn’t remember how he got in the bathroom in the first place.

“S-sorry.” He genuinely didn’t mean to do that.

“Hyung, are you back yet?” Felix looked up at him, his eyes wide and sparkling with love and concern and fear. The sight made Chan’s chest ACHE.

“I think so pup,” Chan smiled weakly, using his good hand to flatten Felix’s bangs. “Sorry for scaring you. I don’t know what happened.”

“Maybe... did the pain make your brain freak out?” It wasn’t the most eloquent way to word it, but Chan understood what he meant.

“Yeah, I think so,” He sighed. “I thought I was coming down from that but it’s like... like the fire got so bad that I couldn’t move anymore.”

“Do you wanna go sit on the couch?” Felix asked. Chan could tell the younger boy wanted to say so many other things, and was grateful that the other aussie was being careful enough to avoid upsetting him more.

“Mm.” Chan hummed, not trusting himself to speak. Felix helped him stand and brought him back out to the living room, making sure the burnt skin didn’t brush against anything as they walked. He gently pushed Chan to sit before going to the kitchen and piling two bowls high with the still warm fried rice. He knew Chan would be hungry.

Before going back to the living room, Felix sent a quick message to the chat - not the main chat, but the secondary one they made without Chan in order for the other seven boys to talk about how they could help their leader without being caught. He informed them of what happened and suggested keeping away from the dorm for a little while longer - at least until he was able to get Chan back to a place where the older boy could talk again.

Hyunjin and Minho instantly responded, expressing their concern but ultimately agreeing with what Felix had suggested. Jisung, Jeongin and Seungmin were silent, but Felix just assumed they were still in the movies. Changbin was still sleeping, so he wasn’t expecting a response from him either.

He casually suggested that someone, on their way home, could pick up Chan’s favorite ice cream to cheer him up. He knew at least one of them would take the hint, if not several of them. If Chan had multiples of the same ice cream in the freezer, would that really be such a bad thing?

“Hyung? Scoot over.” Felix said, carrying the two bowls out to the living room. Chan blinked at him for a moment before complying, making room for the smaller boy to sit on the couch next to him.

“I brought some food. You want something to drink?”

“No, thank you Lixie,” His voice was soft, but sounded as though he was a little more aware of what was happening. He took the bowl only to instantly wince. The warmth from the bowl was enough to make the pain in his hand spike again. Without a word, Felix pulled off his sweatshirt and wrapped Chan’s bowl so the heat wouldn't seep through. “Thanks...”

“How are the fireworks feeling?” Felix asked after a moment. Chan didn't answer for a while, opting to eat his rice in silence as he figured out how to respond. After a few minutes, he let his spoon rest in his bowl.

“Uh... better,” He said hesitantly. “It’s not as... suffocating now. I can breathe a little better, thankfully. I don’t really know what happened... all of a sudden I couldn’t talk or really move at all... it was scary Lixie.”

“I bet it was,” Felix leaned against Chan’s side. “I’m just glad you’re feeling better.”

“Hyung? How’re you feeling?” Changbin shuffled out into the living room, his hair a mess and his blanket wrapped around his head like a cloak.

“Hey there Binnie,” Chan smiled, and it was starting to hurt a little less to do so. “Sleep well?”

“Mm, still tired but I know I’ll be fucked later if I sleep.... More.” He cut himself off with a yawn before continuing.

“There’s fried rice in the kitchen,” Chan called even though Changbin was already waddling his way in that direction. “Help yourself now cuz there won’t be much left later.”

“Fuck yeah...” Bin’s voice was faint coming from the kitchen. Chan chuckled at the younger, who always tended to have a more foul mouth when he was tired or caught off guard.

He remembered when the whole group had been hesitant to curse at all, in case the wrong person overheard and it affected their idol image. Thankfully, being in the industry for as long as they have, they learned what actually matters and what ended up being inconsequential - expletives were just one of the many things that fell under the latter category.

After a couple of minutes Changbin came back out, a heavy bowl in his hands. He plopped down between Chan’s legs, his head resting on the older boy’s knee as he stared sleepily at whatever show was playing quietly on the television.

The warmth and weight from both Changbin and Felix helped keep Chan grounded as the electricity began to calm again. His mind was starting to come back to Earth, the fuzziness finally beginning to fade and allowing him to think somewhat clearly.

His hand throbbed painfully, but it wasn’t the worst thing he had felt. All the cuts and bruises he had given himself in the past have long healed, but burns were always the worst - sometimes he would catch sight of the circle burn scar on his ankle and wince. It wasn’t the largest scar on his body, but it certainly caused him the most pain. It had taken weeks to heal properly, the small wound constantly getting infected, and even now it still hurt if his shoes pressed against it for too long.

But this time, Felix had taken care of him. Felix had washed his burns and put the medication on it. Felix had kept him grounded when his mind was floating. This time, he wasn’t alone, hiding his scars and his cuts and his bruises under baggy sweatpants and flesh toned bandages, pretending he was fine when he so clearly wasn’t.

“Hyung, are you done?” Felix asked, noticing how Chan’s bowl was finally empty.

“Mm, thanks Lix.” He said, making to stand, only to find himself being pushed back onto the couch.

“I’ll take the bowls.” Changbin stood, taking the three dishes and leaving Chan alone with Felix.

“Hyung?”

“Mm?”

“I love you,” Felix smiled at him, and Chan thought the sun itself had entered the dorm room. The younger boy’s face scrunched with affection, his freckles standing out more against the faint flush on his cheeks. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you Lixie,” Chan’s chest was warm - almost too warm, but not in a way that would burn him. In fact, it hurt in a good way - it was burning away the shadows that were caught between his ribs. “Wanna take a nap? I’m sure the others will be back soon.”

“You know I’m always down for a nap.” Felix chuckled and crawled onto Chan’s lap, pushing him down so they were both lying comfortably on the couch. Felix shifted around for a few moments, but before Chan’s eyes got too heavy, Felix had stilled and his even breath hit the older boy’s neck.

Changbin came back out only to freeze. Chan smiled at him and waved a little, which the younger rapper returned with a chuckle. Chan mimed shushing the other boy. Changbin smiled and nodded, putting a finger up to his own mouth before tiptoeing away.

Chan settled back down on the couch and let his eyes fall close. His hand throbbed from the position they were in, but it didn’t hurt all that badly. Felix sleeping comfortably was more important than the small burns he gained.

His eyes fluttered shut and his own breathing slowed. He felt... safe.

He was disappointed in himself, but at least he was calm again. Due to the... incident the day prior with the burns from the pan, the electricity spiked again despite the fact that he should be calming down. He had been so close, but the adrenaline sent him back into whatever manic roller coaster he had been experiencing for the last week.

Chan took a drag of the cigarette, reveling in the rush of calm that flooded his system, replacing the last dredges of the electricity. He hadn’t smoked in weeks, he and Jeongin having a deal to help the other quit. The younger only admitted he was having trouble quitting fully when he found Chan stress smoking on the roof of the company building. Chan’s heart had shattered, but it was the turning point they both needed.

He finally felt calm, the small pile of cigarette butts at his elbow still warm. He knew he would need to get back soon, but hopefully the other boys would stay out of the dorms with whatever personal schedule they have. He didn’t want to confront anyone before getting the chance to shower.

As of now, Jeongin was the only one who knew he smoked, and he wanted to keep it that way. The others didn’t need to know this particularly disappointing side of him.

He took one last drag and snuffed the cigarette out on the railing, letting the smoke curl around his ears as he steadily breathed out. Normally he would make sure he picked all the crumpled filter ends up, but there was a small bucket on the side specifically for trash. He scooped the butts up and dropped them in the bucket with the others. With a heavy sigh, Chan made his way back down to the dorm, his chest finally calm again. Hopefully this would be enough to keep himself stable until the rest of this spike passed.

There was someone in the bathroom when Chan entered the dorm, but he wasn’t sure who. Unfortunately, the pair of canvas sneakers by the front door could have belonged to at least four members, so he had little to go off of. A wave of exhaustion hit him as he sat on the couch. He just wanted a shower and maybe a nap, but he couldn’t. There was a flash of irritation that Chan quickly squashed down. Whoever was in the bathroom didn’t know he had planned on showering. They didn’t know he was trying to hide a secret. He sat on the couch and closed his eyes, letting his head fall back. He didn’t realize how exhausted he was until he could feel the tension melting from his limbs into the cushions.

Maybe he’d let himself relax for a moment... let his stinging eyes rest until they stopped hurting as much. He knew he had things to do later - he needed to do his laundry, because he was running out of clean boxers seeing how he had been putting it off for weeks, and he promised to cook his boys a homemade dinner seeing how they had been ordering out far too often despite not having comeback scheduling - but allowing himself to sit on the couch for a few minutes wouldn’t be the end of the world, right?

Jisung stepped out of the bathroom, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips and his shirt sticking slightly to his damp skin. He towel dried his hair, not feeling up to pulling out the hairdryer to do it properly. He saw a figure sitting on the couch and snuck up on them, grinning as he plotted to jump on whoever it was.

When he saw it was Chan, he paused. The older boy looked exhausted, the dark bags under his eyes standing out like bruises against his pale skin. Jisung had noticed how his friend had been getting paler and had been trying to get Chan to spend more time outside with him - he was always met with excuses of needing to work, or needing to do this, that, or the next thing. Any real excuse to avoid missing out on studio time.

Jisung smiled softly at how Chan’s nose twitched in his sleep. He tossed the damp towel over the back of one of the chairs at the kitchen table before making his way to the living room, using his fingers to comb through his still damp bangs. Chan was sitting on the couch with his legs splayed slightly, his hands folded across his chest with his head back. His mouth was opened a little, light snores escaping into the air.

Crawling onto his lap, Jisung wriggled until Chan sleepily wrapped his arms around the smaller boy’s waist. After all the years they had lived together, all eight of the boys learned how to get into cuddling positions without actually waking up fully. Chan’s breathing evened back out again as his arms rested heavily around Jisung’s hips.

“Mm...” Jisung hummed happily, pressing himself tight against Chan’s chest. His leader was always so warm and comfortable. If Jisung could nap on Chan every day he absolutely would. He wrinkled his nose before sneezing into Chan’s neck.

His eyes flew open, his eyebrows furrowing in concern.

Why did Chan smell like... smoke?

“Hng... Who...?” Chan grumbled, shifting a little. He looked down and saw a familiar head of hair. “Sungie? When did you get home?”

“Hyung...”

“You okay?” He ran his hands through Jisung’s hair gently in the way he knew the younger boy adored. Stays always joked that Minho was the cat of the group, but they’ve never experienced Jisung all but purring in their laps as they played with his hair the way he had.

“I should be asking you that,” Jisung didn’t want to look Chan in the eye just yet. He liked to think that he knew Chan a little bit better than the others seeing how he and Changbin spend the most time with the older boy while they’re working on new songs. They’ve seen Chan at his lowest, at his most stressed. They’ve seen him vulnerable, even though he tried his hardest to hide it from him. He knew Chan, and he knew he would see the fear in Chan’s eyes at being confronted if Jisung were to look up. “If something was wrong, you’d talk to one of us, right?”

“Of course,” Chan looked away. He never stopped playing with Jisung’s hair but he couldn’t bring himself to admit that he still found it difficult to open up. Especially when it came to things that genuinely bothered him. “Why do you ask?”

“You smell like smoke.” Jisung whispered, and Chan knew Jisung felt him tense.

“I-I don’t-”

“It’s okay hyung,” Jisung cut him off, holding the older boy a little tighter, as if he could keep Chan together with his arms alone. “We all do things to cope... even if they’re not the best....”

“Jisung, it’s not what you think...” Chan’s heart started to beat faster. How was he going to talk his way out of this one?

“Does anyone else know you smoke?”

“Uh...” He couldn’t tell the truth, because that would be outing Jeongin’s secret as well.

“Hyung, it’s okay,” Jisung refused to cry. He just wanted to make sure Chan was going to be alright. “No one’s gonna be upset. We just want to help.”

“I’m fine Sungie,” He felt sick to his stomach. “I... I’m working on it. I’m cutting back, distracting myself when I start craving it. I... I never wanted anyone to find out. It’s not something that you need to worry about.”

“How much do you... do it?” Jisung wanted to know more, but he was scared. He was scared to learn how little he could actually offer the older boy. All he wanted to do was make sure Chan could heal, but sometimes he felt as though he offered nothing. Chan did so much for them, and he could never do enough to pay the older boy back.

“More than I should,” Chan chuckled sadly. This was the one thing he didn’t want them finding out about. The cutting, the drinking... that was fine. That, he didn’t mind them helping him with, but the smoking was something he wanted to handle on his own. He already felt bad enough that Jeongin felt responsible. “But... it’s fine.”

“You always say it’s fine,” Jisung scowled. “Even when it’s so obvious you’re not fine, but you always pretend you are. It’s so hard trying to help you when you won’t let us in.”

“It’s not like I’m pushing you out.”

“No, but you’re not coming to us when you should,” Jisung took a calming breath only to be reminded of why they were having his conversation in the first place. Chan hated how helpless Jisung sounded. This was all his fault - if only he wasn’t so weak, and worthless. If only he could handle his own shit better. If only he was a better person, then maybe his poor members wouldn’t have to deal with his constant fucking breakdowns- “You’re thinking too much again.”

“What?”

“I can basically hear your brain working,” Jisung chuckled a little. “You’re not as sneaky as you think you are.”

“Huh?” Chan blinked, shocked.

“Mm, we can usually tell when you’re starting to feel off before you do,” Jisung admitted softly. The younger members had an... unspoken agreement not to pry into Chan’s moods unless they absolutely had to. They didn’t want Chan to feel cornered, like he couldn’t express how he was feeling in case he was bombarded. They wanted him to know he could come to them whenever he felt comfortable with it. They wanted him to know they were always there to support and love him, no matter what. “We just... really love you a lot.”

“I love you too,” Chan said with no hesitation. That might be one of the few things he could say with his whole chest without there being a single hint of doubt in his heart. He loved his members so much that it almost hurt. “So much.”

“Has anything else been bothering you hyung?” Jisung tried again. He just wanted the older boy to trust him enough to open up.

“I- I’m getting better,” Chan admitted. “I know I’ve been hard to manage recently, but I can tell I’m going to be feeling more like myself soon. I just... I just wish I understood what was going on more.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Jisung asked, only to be met with silence for a few moments. Just as he was about to say something else to change the subject, Chan spoke again, his words vibrating through the younger’s chest.

“This is nice,” Chan whispered, shifting so Jisung was more comfortably seated on his lap. The younger boy had been putting his weight more on Chan’s right thigh, which was a little more sensitive as his scars healed. “You’ve all been doing so much for me. I could never thank you enough... I really don’t deserve you at all...”

Chan sniffled, his eyes burning painfully. Could Jisung feel him shaking?

“Please don’t cry hyung,” Jisung sat up, cupping the older boy’s face in his hands. His cheeks were already damp against Jisung’s palms.Chan leaned into Jisung’s touch, the tears still flowing even with his eyes closed. “You’re such an amazing leader. We’d never be where we are without you. You’re the one that keeps us together... without you, I don’t know where I would be.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Chan cracked his eyes open with a frown. “You’re so talented Sungie. You’d be successful no matter what.”

“No, I don’t think we’d be the same,” Jisung smiled softly. “You’re the reason Stray Kids exists at all.”

“I don’t know where I would be without you,” Chan admitted. He had said similar things in the past, but this time it felt more serious. More vulnerable. “Before I met you all... I felt so fucking hopeless. Everyone kept- kept leaving me behind, all alone. I kept training and training and never got anywhere. I genuinely thought I would die a trainee too. Then I met you, and Binnie... you two pulled me from a dark place, and then as the others came into our little family, things got brighter.”

“I’m glad you didn’t kill yourself hyung,” Jisung didn’t realize he had started crying until he heard how choked his words sounded. “I’m so fucking happy I got to meet you... you saved me too. I never... I could never express myself well. Writing in journals never really helped enough to keep me... okay. You were the one that started me on writing my feelings out in rap lyrics. Thanks to you, I was able to find a coping mechanism that was safe and creative.”

“Jisung...” Chan’s arms around the younger boy’s waist tightened. He knew his boys had rough pasts - no one was completely fine, especially in this industry - but it hurt knowing they felt that way even though they deserved everything in the entire world.

“And... and I know everyone else feels the same way,” Now that he started, he found it easier to speak his mind. “You’ve saved each of us in different ways and that’s something we could never thank you enough for.”

“You don’t have to thank me for anything,” Part of Chan knew the others felt similarly, that they needed to repay the older boy for everything he’d done for them, but Chan never wanted them to feel that way. He wanted them to take his affections without thinking they needed to do anything in return. Chan would do anything for the other boys and wouldn’t even think about asking for something back. “Just seeing you happy is the only thing that matters to me.”

“Now you know how we feel,” Jisung frowned. “We’d do anything for you, just as long as you’re happy. I know Lixie talked to you about it a while ago, but he was telling the truth. We talked about it... if it meant you’d be okay, we’d disband Stray Kids for you.”

“Please don’t say that,” Chan scrunched his eyes shut, tears dripping from his chin and onto Jisung’s shirt. “Please... you can’t throw everything away. Especially not for me. I’m not worth that.”

“You are though!” Jisung sat up fully, his eyes wide. Chan always thought Jisung was cute, but when the younger boy looked at him with that expression, Chan wanted nothing more than to tuck him away from the world and take care of him. Jisung was too good for him - they were all too good for him. “Hyung... please. We’d do anything to get you to see yourself the way we do.”

“I don’t think-”

“You’re funny and kind,” Jisung cut him off. The younger boy fidded with the strings of Chan’s hoodie, gently knotting and unknotting them, tying them into a bow before undoing it and starting again. “Whenever you walk into a room, everyone instantly wants to talk to you. You go out of your way to make sure everyone feels comfortable and accepted. You somehow manage to make everyone happy when we argue. You know exactly when we need comfort, or when we need space. You write songs with all of us in mind. All you have to do is smile and everyone’s happy again. You work yourself half to death and never think twice about it but as soon as we try to do the same you’re instantly on our ass. You love us more than you ever let you love yourself and that’s not okay because you deserve all the love in the world. It fucking sucks watching you put yourself down all the time because you’re literally the best person I’ve ever met in my whole life.”

“J-Jisung...” Chan was outright crying now. His body shook with his sobs, which only got louder as Jisung started wiping his tears away with his thumbs.

“Let us love you, hyung,” Jisung whispered, smiling softly at his best friend. “Let us take care of you, like you always take care of us.”

“You can’t just throw that at me,” Chan chuckled wetly. “You know I’m an emotional mess when it comes to you boys.”

“Aww hyung loves us!” Jisung grinned, throwing his arms around Chan’s neck.

“Of course I do!”

“Did you have plans for the rest of the day?” Jisung asked, sitting back again so he could look at his friend. Chan shook his head.

“Other than showering, I was just going to get some food and maybe get some writing done.”

“Would you wanna go shopping with me?” Jisung asked, his eyes wide and sparkling in the way Chan knew that Jisung knew that Chan couldn’t resist. “I’ve been wanting to get some new pens for my lyrics notebook, and I was thinking of getting a few facial cleanser for the bathroom since the one we have in there is almost empty.”

“Sure Sungie,” Chan chuckled. “Let me clean up and we can head out.”

“Okay!” Jisung hopped off Chan’s lap. “Hurry up! I want boba too.”

“Mm.” Chan shook his head fondly. Heading towards his bedroom, he grabbed some clean clothes and made his way to the bathroom. He quickly turned the shower on and began washing his hair, trying to get the scent of smoke out of his skin. The hot water of the shower stung his hand, but thankfully Felix had been diligent about putting the burn cream on it, the pain was already a lot less than it had been the day before. Despite the conversation they just had, Chan was still... uneasy about Jisung knowing his secret. He wondered if Jisung thought differently of him now - if the younger boy would think less of him for being so weak in the face of his own issues. He wondered if Jisung would look at him differently now, and that scared him. His relationship with his boys was one of the most important things to him, and anything that might change that made him sick to his stomach.

Turning off the shower, he could feel his thoughts picking back up again. He couldn't lose his boys... especially not because of his own shortcomings.

His fingers trailed along his scars and he wondered if anyone could truly love him with his skin so marred. It was proof that he was broken - so broken that he hurt himself to bleed out his own anger and pain and sadness. His members said they loved him, and he knew they did, but it was a different kind of love. He loved them just the same, but sometimes he wondered if he even deserved to crave romantic love.

Chan pulled his shirt on over his head, his wet hair staining the collar. He was an idol, so could he possibly be allowed a partner? Would they actually love him? Or would they love the image he put out in the world? This was something he had thought about countless times over the years, but in this moment...

It was even more painful to consider.

“Ready to go?” Chan asked as he walked back to the living room, where Jisung was sitting comfortably on the couch. At the sound of the elder’s voice, Jisung quickly jumped to his feet.

“Mm!” He grinned, pulling a beanie on over his almost dry hair.

They left the dorm and headed towards the shopping district, their masks pulled over their noses. Jisung reached over and took Chan’s hand, keepin the older boy close as they walked around the city.

Chan smiled under his mask. Jisung’s hand was warm in his. Maybe it was okay that he didn’t have a romantic partner at the moment, because he had his boys to remind him of how loved he is - to remind him that he deserves to be loved. Maybe...

Maybe he’ll be okay.

Chapter Text

Chan felt like he was melting into his bed. He had no idea how long he had been lying there, and he could feel his legs starting to cramp from staying in the exact same place. He wanted to move, but he couldn’t. The sludge in his veins was weighing him down, as though his blankets were made of cement, trapping him under it.

Tears leaked into his pillow. He wanted to move. He didn’t want to FEEL LIKE THIS ANYMORE but he couldn’t make it stop. He couldn’t do ANYTHING. Why was he so weak? So pathetic? So fucking worthless?

Maybe everyone would be happier if he were gone... if he wasn’t taking up so much fucking room in the dorm. He didn’t deserve to be there, wasting space and food and water... he was worthless.

He never contributed anything, everything he did was trash. He didn’t understand why the others kept saying they loved him because there was nothing about him that was lovable. Nothing about him could be loved.

He could not be loved. He was unlovable and useless and he should just kill himself to make everyone happy-

“Hyung,” A voice called from the door. Chan hadn’t heard anyone come in, but when he cracked his eye open he saw it was still dark. Whoever it was must have closed the door behind them. Chan curled in on himself, his chest burning. He wanted to hurt himself. He deserved to hurt himself. He deserved to cut his skin open and watch his worthlessness bleed from his wounds and stain the tiles- “Are you awake?”

It was Minho. He was sitting on the edge of Chan’s bed, petting the older boy’s hair. It seemed Minho realized Chan wasn’t going to be able to respond, because after a moment of silence, he shifted and pushed his arms under Chan’s torso, helping his friend sit up. Chan’s body protested, not wanting to move even though he had been still for far too long.

“Hyung, do you want to shower?” Minho asked softly. Chan wanted to nod - he wanted to wash the sludge from his body. He wanted to drown himself so he would never have to look at himself ever again- “Alright hyung, come on. I’ll help you.”

Minho helped Chan to his feet, steadying him as he swayed a little. The two made their way towards the bathroom, none of the eyes watching them go announcing their presence. He sat Chan down on the closed toilet seat before doubling back and closing the door.

“Let’s get these clothes off, okay? I’m sure you’ll feel better once you’re clean and wearing something new.” Minho gently tugged at Chan’s shirt. His stomach sank at how... complacent the older boy was being. Chan was acting more like a doll than a person, letting Minho move him around with no resistance. It had been almost three days since any of them had seen Chan - he had come back to the dorms late enough that everyone had already been asleep on Wednesday, and slept through the day Thursday. It was now Friday, and they had been debating whether or not to bother him. They had an unspoken agreement with Chan that whenever he was feeling depressed, he would go and find one of the other boys and just sit with them for a while. If he didn’t seek them out, they knew he needed to be alone. They didn’t want to overwhelm him and have him stop coming to them for help.

But now Minho was realizing that maybe they should have checked in on Chan sooner.

He tossed Chan’s dirty clothing to the side and frowned, his thumb gently tracing the red lines just under the older boy’s ribs. They weren’t deep, but they were long. It looked like they had been made with scissors or a safety pin, and it broke Minho’s heart that they had left Chan alone so long that he felt the need to take it out on himself.

“Hyung...” He whispered, his hand shaking as he brushed along the longest scratch. It was even more concerning how Chan didn’t flinch. “When did you do this?”

“...” Chan looked at Minho before glancing down, his mouth curling down in a scowl when he realized what Minho was talking about. “Last night, I think.”

“You’re not sure?”

“Don’t know what time it is,” He admitted softly. It was impossible to talk. He felt like he was forcing his words through ten tons of dirt and mud. Why was he so damn broken? “I... couldn’t think straight and needed to focus but it didn’t help so I laid down... I couldn’t move after that...”

“That’s okay hyung,” The last thing Minho wanted Chan to think was that he was broken, or being a burden. “I’m gonna turn the shower on, okay?”

“Mm.” Chan hummed, his eyes unfocusing again. He stared at a single spot on the wall, only blinking every few seconds. Minho’s worry spiked - would Chan be able to stand in the shower on his own?

Even if he could, should Minho allow Chan to be alone in the shower?

Minho glanced back at Chan, who hadn’t moved a muscle, and sighed. It had been years since they had done this, but he couldn’t think of anything else to do. Without another word, he started stripping his own clothes off, the steam from the shower already fogging up the mirror.

“Hyung? I’m going to shower with you, okay?” Minho said, kneeling in front of the older boy, both only in their boxers. Chan blinked for a moment before looking at the other and nodding. Minho smiled, glad that Chan was finally responding again. He stood and helped Chan to his feet. They stripped fully and stepped into the shower, the water almost scalding against Chan’s pale skin.

He hissed, tensing. Minho apologized and adjusted the water, allowing Chan to lean against his side.

Minho was so warm. It was one of the first things Chan was able to really feel in what seemed like days. The younger’s warmth seemed to soak into Chan’s skin more than the heat of the water did. It gave him something to focus on. There was nothing sexual about the situation, but it made Chan’s chest ache with how safe he felt.

He let his eyes fall closed as Minho worked shampoo through his curls, not even wincing when his hair was tugged. He couldn’t remember the last time he had showered - at least two days ago, maybe more - so Minho’s gentle touch was enough to make him want to cry.

Why was he so helpless? He was supposed to be the eldest - the leader for fuck’s sake! He was supposed to take care of the others, yet he was the one being bathed like a child, because his own mind was broken.

“Tip your head back, hyung.” Minho said, his voice soft under the sound of the shower. Chan did as he was told, letting the younger tilt his head as he saw fit to get the soap out of his hair. It felt nice.

If Chan could stay here forever, he would. Safe, under the spray of the shower, Minho’s careful hands running along his ugly scarred skin, as if it didn’t make the younger sick to his stomach to see how disgusting Chan’s body was.

“You’re thinking too much,” Minho’s voice broke Chan from his mind. He shook his head a little, his bangs dripping water into his eyes. Minho ran the washcloth along his arm, seeming to be focusing more on the task at hand than the conversation. Chan blinked again and hummed a little to acknowledge that he heard Minho. “What’s on your mind?”

“I’m disgusting.” Chan whispered after a moment, his voice cracking painfully. Minho’s hands froze, one holding Chan’s wrist and the other with the washcloth. Minho couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Could Chan really think that about himself? How was that even possible?

“Hyung, you’re gorgeous,” Minho said calmly, moving to wash Chan’s neck and shoulders. He could feel Chan trembling faintly. “I don’t know what your brain is telling you, but it’s fucking bullshit.”

“How could anyone think I’m attractive?” He didn’t have the energy to pretend anymore - to smile and try to convince Minho everything was alright. “I’m... I’m fucked up Minnie... anyone who looks at me can see that I’m fucked up. I’m going to be scarred for the rest of my life because I’m weak and- and worthless.”

“Your scars don’t make you weak,” Minho said evenly. He kept his eyes on his hands, making sure he was being gentle enough with Chan. The washcloth ran over the scratches under his ribs, and he found he was almost relieved when Chan gave a sharp inhale - it meant the older boy was finally starting to become more aware again. “They just show that you’ve healed, and that you’ve survived.”

“But-”

“Do my scars make me weak?” Minho asked, finally looking Chan in the eye. The older boy blinked, not knowing where the other was going. Minho sighed and took Chan’s hand, placing his fingers on his upper arm. “Feel that?”

Chan pressed his fingers gently against Minho’s skin. His eyes shot open wide when he realized what he was feeling. Invisible lines littered the dancer’s arm, just high enough that a regular t-shirt would have no problem hiding them. He felt like crying - Minho didn’t deserve to feel that way, even if it was long ago.

“Do they?”

“Wh-what?”

“Do these scars make me weak?” Minho’s bangs were plastered to his forehead, his tanned skin turning red from the heat of the water.

“Of course not,” Chan responded instantly. How could Minho possibly think he was weak for this? How could he think- “Oh...”

“You aren’t as awful as you think you are,” Minho grabbed the washcloth again and ran it along Chan’s other arm. The methodical movement seemed to calm both of them. “You’re... special, hyung. There’s just something about you that... that really inspires people. You don’t even have to try and you change lives.”

“Do you think... could someone love me? One day?”

Minho knew what Chan meant. He wasn’t asking about the type of love that his friends gave him, which was as unconditional as it came. Minho would be lying if he said he never thought about it himself - He was a bit of a romantic, and the thought of never finding someone to love the real him was... scary, to say the least. It hurt more to realize that Chan - wonderful, handsome, talented, loving Christopher - genuinely believed he was unlovable.

“I do,” Minho smiled softly. He didn’t say anything as Chan covered his face with his free hand, his quiet sobs being drowned out by the sound of the shower. “I really do, hyung. One day, you’re going to find someone who gives you just as much love as you give them, and I’ll make sure to be there to give them the mother of all shovel talks.”

“Ppft-” Chan, not expecting that in the slightest, couldn’t help but snicker through his tears. “Minho!”

“It’s true!” He grinned, his eyes turning up at the smile on Chan’s face. He handed the older boy the washcloth and started washing his own hair. “I’ll sit them down, maybe tie them to a chair if I’m feeling saucy. I’ll interrogate them to make sure they’re worthy of your time. If they aren’t okay with being kidnapped and held hostage by seven overprotective men, they aren’t good enough for you.”

“Minho...” Chan smiled, but his bottom lip trembled. As silly as the imagery was, he couldn’t stop himself from getting emotional. Minho and the others... they loved him so much - almost too much.

Did he even deserve their love? After all, what did he give them in return for all they do for him?

“You’re thinking too hard again.” Minho called him out. Chan chuckled and finished washing himself as Minho rinsed out his hair.

It had been years since he had showered with any of the other members. Back before debut, they used to double up often - by the time they got home from practice, if they stayed up to wait for the shower to be open, they would fall asleep in their sweaty dance clothes and get sick. It had been awkward at first, but they quickly got used to it. Chan was the one who showered alone most often, the others opting to share in order to give him his privacy.

Maybe if they had showered with him, they would have noticed the scars on his skin sooner. Once they debuted, and they got used to the schedules, they were able to manage their time better and could shower with enough space in between that they didn’t have to share anymore.

“Come on hyung, the water’s getting cold.” Minho said, turning the shower off and stepping out, wrapping a clean towel around his waist before handing Chan the other. Chan followed suit, his movements sluggish but not so heavy that he was frozen anymore.

“Hey, about earlier-”

“Don’t worry about that,” Minho cut him off as he used a smaller towel to start drying his hair. He turned and looked at the older boy with a bright grin. “Just as long as you’re feeling better.”

“But-”

“Do you have plans for later?”

“Uh, I don’t think so?”

“Perfect, go get dressed and meet me in my room.” Minho’s grin curled mischievously and for a split second, Chan wondered if doing as he was told was a good idea or not. Minho didn’t wait for a response before leaving the bathroom.

Chan chuckled to himself as he gathered their dirty clothes and went to his own room. He threw Minho’s clothes in with his own, seeing how most of their clothing had been rotated between their closets a few times already, and quickly got dressed. He pulled on his favorite hoodie and his boxers, not bothering with actual pants - he was still too warm from the shower - and draped the towel over his damp hair.

Going across the hall, Chan knocked on the door and waited for Minho’s response before entering the other’s room.

Minho was sitting on his bed, his mouth curled up in a smile as he held something out for Chan to take. Chan felt a single eyebrow raise as he took the bottle of soju from his friend and sat next to him on the bed.

“When did you get these?” He asked, cracking the cap off and taking a sip. It wasn’t the worst burn he’s experienced from an alcohol, but it was enough to make his face twist.

“I’ve had them for a while,” Minho admitted, doing the same. He seemed much less affected by the taste than Chan was. “I hide them in the back of the small fridge.”

“And no one saw them?” Chan chuckled, not all that surprised. Out of the three, the smallest fridge was the one usually designated to leftovers and the foods no one wanted to eat but no one wanted to throw out.

“I think they knew I’d skin them if they touched it,” Minho laughed happily and took another sip. Chan took a moment to admire how handsome his friend was, with his golden skin and cat-like smirk. No wonder Minho was so loved by Stays. Compared to him, Chan wasn’t nearly as pretty. He was too pale, and too lumpy, where Minho was toned and- “What are you thinking about?”

“N-nothing.” Chan covered his voice crack with drinking from his bottle.

“Doesn’t sound like nothing.” Minho raised an eyebrow.

“You’re just... very beautiful,” Chan admitted. “All my boys are. I feel... plain next to you guys.”

“Hyung, you’re literally one of the sexiest people I’ve ever seen in my life,” Minho said without any hesitation. Chan’s face instantly flushed, and it was only partially because of the soju. “Why are you looking at me like that? It’s true.”

“B-but...”

“Look hyung,” He fiddled with the ring on the top of the bottle that held the cap on. “No matter what we say, you’re never going to fully believe us. It’s not your fault, it’s just how your brain works, which is why we’re going to keep telling you how handsome and talented and loved you are, because eventually you’ll just be bullied into accepting our compliments.”

“Is that your master plan?” Chan chuckled, eyes stinging a little. He took another sip, the burn all but gone already. “You shouldn’t give away all your secrets.”

“Eh,” Minho shrugged loosely. “Is knowing what we’re doing going to change anything?”

“Nah,” Chan grinned and shook his head. “I really love you guys.”

“We love you too hyung,” Minho’s smile softened and it tugged at Chan’s heart. “That’s why we’re going to bitch at you until you love yourself.”

Chan didn’t trust himself to talk without crying, so he just held his bottle out for Minho to tap his own again. Minho grinned back and did so, the sound of glass clinking together breaking the sudden silence.

“Did Binnie ever tell you about the time he and Innie-ah almost got chased by the police?” Minho asked casually, as if the sudden question didn’t almost make Chan choke on his soju.

“What?”

Minho’s grin curled as he prepared to spill a lot of secrets the other members didn’t know he knew.

“Hyung?” Felix poked his head into the room, looking around. Minho had just walked into the kitchen, stumbling a little and whining that he wanted ramen. He mentioned something about their eldest friend and Felix realized no one had seen Chan since Minho had tugged him to the bathroom nearly three hours previous.

“Pixie!” Chan grinned from Minho’s bed. He was lying on his back, his head hanging over the edge.

“Are you drunk?” Felix snickered a little. Chan’s face was flushed, and it was clear it wasn’t just from hanging upside down.

“A lil bit,” Chan rolled onto his stomach. “Whatcha up to mate?”

“Just wanted to sit with you for a minute.” Felix sat down, the sudden weight on the mattress making it dip, causing Chan to roll into Felix’s hip a little.

Felix jumped, not expecting the sudden weight against his side, before relaxing into his friend’s warmth.

Chan, however, didn’t notice Felix relaxing - he only noticed Felix tense.

His stomach dropped, his head suddenly spinning too much for comfort. He tried to roll away but he found he couldn’t move his limbs the way he wanted to.

“Are you alright?” Felix asked, noticing Chan’s sudden distress.

“I’m sorry,” Chan whispered, his eyes burning. He finally managed to roll over and put as much space between him and Felix as possible. “Lixie... I’m so sorry.”

“What are you talking about?” He was... very confused, to say the least. What in the world did Chan have to be sorry about?

“I can’t believe I did that...” Chan’s voice sounded watery. “I’m such an awful person-”

“What are you...?"

“I-I made my Pixie flinch away from me...” Chan whispered, eyes unfocused. He played with the empty bottle in his hands, not looking at anything in particular. Felix wondered if Chan even realized he was the one the elder was talking to, or if he was really that drunk. He knew the elder had good alcohol tolerance, but the chances of Chan having eaten anything in the last day or so was very low, so a single bottle of soju would have definitely fucked him up. His stomach plummeted when he realized what Chan was talking about. “He- he’s my sunshine and I-I made him th-think I was gonna.... I was gonna HIT him...”

He started sobbing brokenly, all the memories from months before coming back. He had been doing his best to rationalize his actions and forgive himself, but it was almost impossible when he had the occasional nightmare of hitting one of his members to the point of serious injury. Those nights were the worst.

Felix stared at Chan in horror. That night had been several months ago, and he had thought they both silently agreed to put it behind them. Felix had noticed how Chan had made himself distant after that, but the younger made a point to show Chan he wasn’t afraid of him at all.

“Chris... I was never scared of you,” Felix whispered, his voice dropping low. Chan continued to cry, almost as if he couldn’t hear the younger at all. “The reason I flinched that day... it wasn’t because of you.”

“B-but-” Chan looked up and Felix felt his heart shatter at the broken look on the elder’s face.

“Yeah, I was a little surprised,” Felix admitted. He sat on the bed with his back against the wall and pulled his knees up to his chest. “But I knew it wasn’t because you were actually mad at me. When we were in the room after that... I had been thinking about some stuff and kinda zoned out. When you went to grab your bag...”

Felix looked at Chan, who seemed frozen. He could tell the older boy hadn’t realized he was there when he closed the door behind him, but it was the look of fear on Chan’s face that really worried him.

Was Chan afraid of... Felix? No, that couldn’t be it... right? Felix knew his friend was beating himself up over what happened - he had known Chan long enough to know when the older boy was other thinking and blaming himself for something he couldn’t control. He needed to say something - needed to convince Chan that what happened wasn’t his fault.

It had been clear that Chan hadn’t been in the best mindset during dinner, but no one really knew what to do. They tried their best to keep things as normal as possible when their leader started acting off, because they were afraid of making things worse if they were to bring attention to it. Chan had been more stressed as of late, and it was starting to really worry the others, Felix especially.

He vaguely remembered when these ups and downs started. According to Jisung, who had known Chan longer than Felix had, he hadn’t been as... unstable before the reality show. Something about that time in his life was enough to make his spikes and drops worse, and Felix wished there was something - anything! - he could do to make things a little easier to Chan, who did nothing but put them all before himself.

Maybe he would bake something for him. Felix knew Chan liked sweets, and it was scientifically proven that sweets can improve your mood. Okay, maybe not scientifically, but Lix had enough experience with cheering people up via baked goods to know that a nice warm brownie was enough to bring a smile to anyone’s face, no matter how bad of a day they’ve had, and poor Chan has had far too many bad days for someone who cares so deeply for everyone but himself-

Felix flinched. He hadn't seen Chan reaching towards him until the older boy’s bruised knuckles came into his eyesight. He had been too lost in his own thoughts to notice Chan moving at all, so the sudden appearance of a hand startled him.

He looked up quickly and saw the look of absolute horror on Chan’s face. Felix could quite literally see the older boy’s heart shattering through his glassy eyes. He wanted to explain himself - promise Chan that it wasn’t his fault!

Instead, he panicked... and left.

When it was time to go to the company building, Felix stayed away from Chan. He kept spacing out, getting lost in his own thoughts, and didn’t want to make the same mistake again - didn’t want to put Chan in a position where his actions, as involuntary as they had been, could be mistaken. They let Chan sit in the front seat, silently agreeing that he deserved to have the passenger spot.

No one spoke of the incident after, and things slowly started to go back to normal. Chan was more open with them, and they could see him healing little by little. Felix had almost forgotten about flinching from his friend, until Chan himself brought it up again.

“I’m so sorry Lixie.” Chan whimpered, hiding his face in his hands.

“I should have explained it,” Felix reached over and hugged the older boy, not letting go even when Chan started to struggle. “I know you’d never hit me. I know you love me.”

“I just... I just want to protect everyone... but I keep making problems for you...” His head spun and he suddenly wanted to be sober. His mind was screaming at him, but he couldn’t focus on the insults his brain was creating for him because Felix’s hands were on his face and it felt so nice to have such a warm, gentle touch on his cheeks.

“It’s okay hyung,” Felix smiled at him brightly. “You’re not the person you think you are.”

“B-but-”

“Oh hyung...” the door opened and Minho took in the scene before him. Chan glanced at the second oldest and started crying harder, muttering something under his breath. Minho moved and sat on

Chan’s other side, wrapping his arms around Chan’s waist. Chan continued to cry, going between clinging to one of the boys and trying to push them away, too distraught and drunk to know exactly what he wanted.

They let him cry until he was all out of tears. Chan leaned heavily on Minho, his face tacky and his breathing ragged. He stared at the pattern on the blanket, his eyes red and swollen.

“Here hyung,” Minho handed Chan the water bottle he had left the room to get in the first place. Chan’s hands were shaking too hard, so Minho had to open the cap for him. The water was cold and cut through the gritty taste of tears on his tongue. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired...” His words were slurring far less, and despite how tired he looked, his eyes were more alert. “And my head hurts.”

“I’ll get some pain killers!” Felix jumped up and rushed from the room, glad to finally have a mission that could benefit his friend.

“Hyung?” Minho said quietly once the air settled again.

“Mm?”

Minho leaned over and pressed a light kiss to the older boy’s cheek. If Chan had been a little more sober he might have blushed, but instead he just smiled and rested his head on his friend’s shoulder.

“Thanks for caring about me so much,” He whispered. Minho reached up and began petting his head, a small smile on his mouth. “I know it’s not easy, but.... It really means a lot that you’ve been doing so much.”

“Do you finally believe that we’d do anything for you?” Minho continued carding his fingers through Chan’s hair, the older boy leaning into the touch.

“Maybe...”

“Do you want to go to sleep?”

“Probably...”

“You’re so cute Channie,” Minho giggled at how pouty Chan was when he was drunk - was it good that Chan was drinking enough to get this drunk? Probably not, but small backsteps could lead to strides forward. “Makes me want to scoop you up and keep you in my pocket.”

“Ppft, I’d... never fit,” Chan muttered, his eyes fluttering closed. “I’m... I’m a big boy.”

“Mm, yes you are baby,” Minho shook his head a little. “Why don’t we lie down? The room won’t spin as much if you’re horizontal.”

Chan didn’t put up a fight as Minho gently pushed him over. Chan snuggled up with Minho’s pillow instantly, as if he didn’t realize he wasn’t in his own bed. Minho continued to play with Chan’s hair as he started to drift off to sleep.

Felix poked his head in, noticing instantly that Chan was laying down. He snuck in and handed Minho the bottle of painkillers and a sports drink.

“He’ll want the sugar when he wakes up,” Felix whispered, looking at Chan with a soft expression. “He always has a headache when he cries, and it’s going to be even worse cuz he was drinking...”

“Thanks Lixie, you’re an angel,” Minho smiled up at the smaller boy. “Hyung’s lucky to have you as a friend.”

“You too,” Felix nodded. “I’ll go to bed, I guess, since you have things under control here... just don’t stay up too late okay?”

“Mm, I won’t,” Minho glanced back to Chan, who was sleeping peacefully. “Goodnight Pixie.”

“Night Minho hyung.” Felix turned to leave before pausing. In the blink of an eye, he turned back and hugged Minho tightly for a moment. Before Minho could return the embrace, Felix was gone and the door was firmly closed behind him.

“That kid...” Minho chuckled before laying himself down next to Chan. The older boy instantly curled into his chest. “Good night Channie. Sweet dreams.”

Minho kissed Chan’s forehead before letting his own eyes fall closed.

“What’s going on here?” Chan asked as he entered the dorm, a few days after the shower incident. His depressive episode faded, leaving him feeling slightly more energetic than before the episode hit. He had gotten a call from Jisung, telling him that it was time for dinner and if he didn't come back immediately that they were going to send the armada to the studio to bring him home.

Because he didn’t want to cause a stampede through the company building, he packed his things up and made the short trek back to the dorms.

In the living room, everything had been rearranged. The table was in the center, with the couch pushed up against the wall. There was a spread of food laid out on the table - there was so much that it covered the entire surface and then some. Drinks were lined up under the table, so they wouldn't be kicked over, and Chan could see familiar green bottles and cans of beer mixed in the usual juices and soft drinks. The floor had been turned into a huge bed, the whole area covered in what genuinely looked like every pillow and blanket in the entire dorm.

“Hyung!” Hyunjin jumped up and rushed over, taking Chan by the wrist and pulling him over to where the other six were gathered.

“Why does this feel like an intervention?” Chan laughed, grabbing a pair of disposable take-out chopsticks and immediately reached for a piece of chicken. It wasn’t until he was halfway through chewing that he realized everyone had gone silent. “Uh... guys? Is something wrong?”

“Not wrong exactly...” Changbin trailed off, looking towards Minho for help.

“We’ve been doing a little research on our own,” Minho continued, casually picking at some noodles. Chan felt his stomach drop when he realized where this conversation was going - This really was an intervention. Glancing around, he saw similar expressions on the seven faces looking at him. “And Innie thinks he found something that might... fit.”

“Fit what?” Chan gave an awkward chuckle, partially wishing they would have waited until after they ate to corner him like this because now his stomach was rolling with anxiety and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to eat at all.

“Here hyung, I printed some things out,” Jeongin handed Chan an impressive pile of papers, much of the pile separated into packets that were stapled together. He took one look at the title of the first page and grimaced. “I found an article on something called bipolar disorder, and as I was reading a lot of what it was saying seemed really familiar.”

Jeongin talked as Chan began to scan the papers. Keywords and phrases stood out at him.

Mood swings.

Irritation or feelings of elation.

Excess energy.

Recklessness.

Depression.

Feelings of worthlessness.

Personality disorder.

His throat closed the more he read, fear building in his stomach. He was scared because they were right - the things that these articles were saying...

They were familiar. They were familiar because he experienced all the same things. All of his ups and down, his electricity and his sludge, was all explained in these papers as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

“We haven’t brought this up to anyone other than each other,” Minho said, seeing the look of distress growing in Chan’s face. “But there are ways to help the episodes if you’re willing to try them. We could ask management to see if they can find a therapist for you to talk to, or someone to get you a prescription.

“I’m not... I’m not crazy,” Chan said, as if he was defending his sanity against whatever they were saying. He couldn’t be bipolar. Bipolar was the disease that made you go insane - it was the one in the movies that made you burn your house down. He didn’t have that. He wasn’t that bad.

Right?

“It’s not as scary as the movies make it seem,” Jisung chimed in. “Apparently very few people who are bipolar do that kind of crazy shit. Most of the time it’s the manic or depressive episodes, or in your case, both. It doesn’t make you dangerous, or insane. It just means that... your brain works a little differently.”

“I’m scared of medication.” he admitted. It wasn’t the thought that he might have to accept that he’s bipolar that scared him, but rather he was terrified of the idea of going on some sort of medication that might change who he was.

He knew medication for mental illnesses can cause changes to the person, and that was what scared him more than anything. He’d take the violent ups and downs as long as it meant he was still himself.

“From what I’ve read, most doctors will start you on an antidepressant, which just helps regulate some chemicals in your brain,” Jeongin continued. “It doesn’t affect anything else. Just helps you keep yourself a little more stable. If those don’t work you might be put on mood stabilizers which are a little different, but only with your consent.”

“I don’t know about this,” Chan continued to flip through the pages, seeing articles about research and statistics and stories of other people talking about their experiences. Something about having the stack of papers in his hands made him feel... seen. “I haven’t talked to a therapist in years...”

“We’ll be there with you every step of the way,” Felix reached over and placed a hand on the older boy’s arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You don’t have to do any of this alone.”

“I hate how much sense it makes,” he admitted, his eyes stinging. “I don’t want to be fucked up...”

“You’re not fucked up hyung,” Changbin countered instantly. “You’re the same Channie that you’ve always been. You’re the same Channie that keeps us sane and healthy.”

“The same hyung that stays up with us when we’re sick.” Seungmin added.

“The same hyung that keeps us from overworking ourselves.” Felix.

“The same Channie that goes out of his way to make sure we get what we want.” Jisung.

“And who pushes himself way too much so we don’t have to stress as much.” Hyunjin.

“The same hyung that saved me from myself.” Jeongin.

“Who brought us all together.” Minho.

“If you decide to go to a therapist, or if you want to wait a little but before making a decision, we’re going to support you no matter what,” Jeongin looked at him with such sincerity that it made Chan’s chest ache in the best way. “We know how scary it is to just kinda... float around, not knowing what’s going on. Even if you don’t want to talk to a professional yet, it’s good to be able to put a name to what’s happening, you know?”

“Yeah,” Tears dropped onto his shirt, but he was smiling. “Yeah I know. I-I’ll talk to hyung later... thank you everyone. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Good thing you’ll never have to find out!” Jisung grinned.

“Well, that’s all I had to say. Ready to finally eat?” Minho looked around, waiting for the nods of agreement. Just as they were about to start loading their plates up, another voice spoke up.

“Actually, I have something else...” Felix said, looking nervous.

“What’s up Pixie?” Chan asked, taking Felix’s hand and rubbing the boy’s knuckles with his thumb. He could read Felix better than most anyone, and he could tell the younger boy was wrestling with something inside his mind.

“I found something, the other day,” His words were meek, as if he were afraid of setting off a bomb if he talked too loudly. “I’ve been trying to think of a way to bring it up, but...”

“It’s okay Lix, you don’t have to be scared to speak your mind.” Chan said comfortingly, reminding everyone that they were safe to say what they wanted while with each other.

“Mm...” Felix nodded in agreement but still hesitated. After a moment he reached into his hoodie pocket and pulled something out, placing it silently on the table.

“Hyung’s sleeping pills?” Seungmin asked, not seeing anything weird about the box. They had all seen it in the medicine cabinet, tucked in the back where Chan had kept them for the last several months.

No one noticed how pale Chan had gotten.

Felix let out a sound akin to a whimper before picking the box back up, tipping whatever was inside out for everyone to see.

Instead of the silver foil sheet with the small, white pills they had all been expecting, a silver razor blade clattered onto the table. The metallic sound seemed to echo though the sudden, suffocating silence.

“H-hyung...” Jisung whispered, voice trembling. Chan just stared at the blade, as if everything around him had disappeared, leaving him and the piece of silver the only two things left in the room.

How had he not noticed the box missing? He had been feeling better recently, so he hadn’t even had the itch to cut. He hadn’t had the urge, so he hadn’t thought of checking to make sure the box that hadn’t moved in over a year and a half was still in its place.

“Hyung, is this yours?” Minho asked, his voice calm and level. Chan began to shake, his mind getting fuzzier and fuzzier as the static in his head got more aggressive. “Hyung?”

“Hyung please...” Hyunjin sounded close to tears.

“Come back to us hyung...” Jeongin sat in front of their oldest and cupped his cheeks, holding Chan’s head up to look the younger in the eye. “It’s okay. We’re not mad at you. We just want to help.”

“I-I d-don’t-” His words were gone, stolen from his tongue before he could speak them.

“It’s okay baby,” Minho came over and took Jeongin’s place. He carefully threaded his fingers through Chan’s bangs and gave them a gentle tug. The faint prickle of pain was enough to force Chan to blink, which was what he needed to focus again. “We’re here for you. You’re not alone. Can you answer a few questions for us pup? Then we can eat and drink and play some games, okay?”

“Wh-what questions?” Chan asked, his body still trembling. He could feel the adrenaline from the fear of being caught rushing through his veins, taking over control of his limbs.

“Is this yours?”

“Mm.”

“When did you stop taking your sleeping pills?”

“After that box ran out.”

Minho took a moment to check the refill date on the box. His frown only deepened.

“Hyung, these are from almost two years ago. Why didn’t you refill your prescription?”

“Stopped working.”

“I see... did you tell your doctor that you stopped?”

“Told her I didn’t need them anymore. She stopped filling the prescription.”

“Have you been using it to hide... stuff since you ran out?’

“Mm.”

“Shit...” Jisung breathed, his eyes somehow going even wider. “For two years... and we never knew.”

“Hidden right in front of our eyes,” Minho swallowed thickly before turning back to the older boy. “One last question, then I’ll stop, okay?”

“Mm.”

“When was the last time you hurt yourself, hyung?”

The question was hard to answer. He didn’t want to tell them how much of a disappointment he was - they were working so hard to help him recover and heal and yet he’s throwing away all of their efforts because he was selfish and weak-

“How about this hyung,” Minho broke through his thoughts again. “How about we eat and relax for tonight, and tomorrow you and me can have a talk, just the two of us.”

“Yes please...” He hated how pathetic he sounded. Minho, instead of being disgusted with his failings, just smiled warmly and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek. He scooped the razor up in the box and folded it over a few times, making sure nothing would fall back out again, and slipped it into his pocket.

“Thank you hyung,” He said, fixing Chan’s bangs before going back to his place around the table. “Now, if someone ate my eggroll, I will not hesitate to steal all of your fingers.”

“Ominous!” Jisung snickered, handing the older boy said eggroll and saving the rest of Stray Kids from losing their precious fingers.

“Here hyung, have some of these.”

“You want something to drink? I can mix the soju with something.”

“Pass me some chicken hyung?”

“HYUUUNG HYUNJIN STOLE MY DUMPLING!”

“I did not! He’s framing me!”

Chan listened to them bicker and talk as they enjoyed their meal, and for the first time in ages, he genuinely felt a little lighter. He glanced back at the pile of papers and the fear from when he first read the article titles vanished, leaving him feeling a little hollow, but in a way that gave him the impression that he now had so much more room to fill with other things.

Was he looking forward to talking to someone? To taking medication? Absolutely not, but if it meant keeping this feeling a little longer, he’d do it.

For his boys, and - for the first time - for himself as well.

“How are you feeling hyung?” Jeongin asked, pulling Chan aside. It had been a few months since the elder’s intervention and he had been on his new medication for about four of them.

“Not bad,” he answered honestly. He had gained back all the weight he had lost during his unchecked episodes. His therapist had told him how proud she was of him for working towards not only becoming mentally healthy, but physically healthy as well. “A little off, but not awful.”

“You should be manic soon, right?” Jeongin asked. They tried to keep track of Chan’s ups and downs. It was hard, seeing how it wasn’t an exact science, but they could track it enough that when Chan started acting off, they had some idea of the reasons behind it.

“Mm, I think so,” Talking about it didn’t scare him as much anymore. “Hopefully it’ll be like last time.”

His last manic episode had been... almost nice. He had been proactive and felt good, but not out of control. His medication kept his ups from going too high and his downs from going too low.

Instead of a manic episode being a 10, they were closer to a 7, his depression episodes at a 3 rather than a 1. Being able to control himself a little more during these spikes and drops definitely helped him accept that he wasn’t actually insane like he always thought.

He hadn’t announced to the world what he was working through, but he did allow himself a month off to focus on therapy and self care. During that month, he went to see his therapist three times a week, where they would come up with coping mechanisms and ways to work around his episodes. Sometimes, if their schedules worked with it, one of the members would go with him so they could learn how to help their leader.

“That’s good to hear,” Jeongin grinned. He leaned against Chan’s side, letting the older boy keep him upright. “Wanna get some coffee?”

“So badly,” Chan chuckled, hugging the boy close. “We should still have some time before we’re needed back in for makeup. No one will notice if we sneak away for a few moments.”

They giggled like children as they snuck down the stairs towards the café on the corner of the street, and Chan was happy.

Did he still get manic and reckless? Did he still get depressed and find himself unable to leave his bed? Did he still have to fight the urge to hurt himself?

Of course.

Did he still smoke? Yes, but not nearly as often. After his intervention, he and Jeongin agreed that it would be a good idea to come clean to the others, so one night they sat everyone down and explained.

Both of them did.

The boys were more than supportive of both Chan and Jeongin trying to quit, and never got angry when one would come back to the dorm smelling of smoke after a particularly stressful day.

He still had his bad days, of course. He talked with his therapist and told her he didn’t want to go on mood stabilizers, and she fully supported him. He was getting better at using his coping mechanisms to avoid being too reckless when he was manic, the most important one being that he never let himself be alone when he thought he might do something stupid. His boys were more than happy to spend more time with him, so it worked out well for everyone involved.

He was so grateful for his boys. They were his world, and without them, he knew he wouldn’t be alive. He quite literally owed them his life, not that they would let him thank them for anything.

He took Jeongin’s hand as they made their way into the café, casually pulling the younger up to the counter.

He wasn’t fixed, obviously. It had taken him a while to accept that the medication wouldn’t fix him, nor would therapy.

Because he wasn’t broken. He was just...

Himself, with all his perfect flaws.