Archive of Our Own ^beta

It’s dark outside, the sun having yet to reach the horizon in the early hours of the morning. So when Johnny looks past the figure beside him and out at the window, all he can see is his own reflection, the light from the van too bright for the gray sky to compete. The rain, though, is hard to miss, drops pouring down onto the glass as if being sprayed by a garden hose.

It’s somewhat atmospheric, in his opinion— being cooped up inside of the warm van, Donghyuck curled up against his side entranced by something on his phone, and the sound of rain drops in the background. It feels cozy, in a way. Like being huddled in front of a fire during winter. 

They’re on their way to a filming location, one that had not been explicitly revealed to them just yet. It was supposed to be for a challenge type video, and all Johnny knows is that it somehow involves physical activity. His bet is on rock climbing, or parkour. Whatever it is, it required them to leave hours in advance.

Most of the members occupying the van are trying to catch up on sleep in preparation, four out of five in the back row already in a deep slumber. The only ones awake —besides himself and Donghyuck next to him— are Taeil, squished between several of those sleeping, and Taeyong and Doyoung who are sitting next to each other, a pair of seats separate from the rest just like Johnny and Donghyuck’s.

It’s mostly quiet, save for the occasional chit-chat between their leader and his best friend, and the obnoxious snoring that must be disrupting Taeil’s attempts at joining the sleepover. So when Donghyuck suddenly lets out a frustrated whine, Johnny is admittedly startled. 

“The movie cut off,” Donghyuck complains with a pout, looking up at Johnny as if he could magically fix it.

Johnny peeks at the loading screen. “What were you watching?”

“Kissing Booth.”

Johnny laughs. “Again?”

“Oh, it’s back,” Donghyuck mumbles to himself a moment later, attention immediately drawn to the screen again. Johnny simply shakes his head in amusement, before his eyes drift to the front of the vehicle. He watches the narrow road through the windshield, trees lining the edges and taking up most of the view.

Donghyuck is saying something again, most likely some offhand comment about whatever the characters are doing on screen, but Johnny doesn’t look at him.

Because suddenly, there’s a deer blocking the road.

He hears the driver slam the breaks —hears the awful sound of screeching metal— but it’s not enough to stop the momentum of the vehicle. The van swerves, an attempt to avoid hitting the animal, and Johnny feels the force of gravity shove him towards Donghyuck, who in turn is slammed against the window. 

He hears several exclamations of shock, several curse words being thrown around, before there’s a loud bang.

And then, silence.

_____________________

The first thing he realizes when he comes to is that his head hurts, like someone is squeezing his brain to try and wring it dry. Then, after a while, several voices register, and it takes him a moment to discern the words.

It’s his name, he realizes. 

He opens his eyes and turns his head in the direction of the sound, the sight of Taeyong’s relieved face greeting him.

“Oh, Johnny, thank god.”

He can hardly read the expression on his face, with the way the van is slowly filling up with smoke. Something in his chest tightens, a feeling of urgency settling over him.

“Can you…” Taeyong starts, eyes flicking to something behind Johnny. “Can you check on him? He’s not responding to us.”

Johnny furrows his eyebrows, turning his head. The scene that comes into view makes his breath hitch. What was once a door is now a crumpled piece of metal, barely recognizable and dented in their direction. Against it, lies Donghyuck, head lolled to the side and dangling in the opening of the shattered window. 

Johnny doesn’t waste a second, immediately bringing hands up to shake the unconscious figure. He feels a lump form in his throat as he looks at the younger. 

“Hyuck.” His voice cracks. “Wake up.”

When he receives no response, all he can do is shake harder.

It takes a second —an agonizing second— but eventually, two brown eyes blink up at Johnny, and immediately relief washes over him. Johnny recognizes the confusion in them, and predicts the question that comes next.

“What happened?”

The voice is frail compared to how it usually sounds, and Johnny briefly feels his heart squeeze at the sound. He opens his mouth to answer the question, but quickly realizes that he doesn’t actually know the answer.

Johnny breaks eye contact to observe his surroundings. The van is tilted slightly to the left, and he can see the sky line an empty road through the fogged up windows on the right, behind Taeyong and Doyoung. The two look more distressed than Johnny has ever seen them, but they seem alright, physically. He tilts his head to look at the row of seats in the back, going over each of their shocked expressions. The ones who had been sitting closer to the right —Jaehyun, Taeil, Yuta— appear to be relatively unharmed, from what Johnny can see, but the closer they get towards the other side, the more roughed up they seem. Jungwoo’s face is scrunched up in pain as he presses a hand to where the seatbelt meets his chest, and a trail of blood is trickling down Mark’s forehead. Ultimately, though, they’re not in imminent danger— at least, not from their injuries. 

His eyes fall back on the seat directly next to him— it’s where the brunt of the damage seems to be. Through the opening of where the window used to be, Johnny can finally see what caused the dent in the metal— a tree, standing tall and strong and somehow unscathed from the whole ordeal, almost mockingly.

Johnny then looks back at the person sitting next to it, somehow alive and breathing —albeit too rapidly— having narrowly missed the impact by only a couple of inches. It does nothing to ease the worry in his gut.

“We crashed,” he voices belatedly, not caring to elaborate in favor of focusing on more important matters. “Are you hurt?” he follows up hurriedly.

Donghyuck falters, head moving down and quickly checking over the rest of his body. His eyes come back up to meet Johnny’s. “I—“ he breathes harshly. “I don’t think so.”

Johnny swallows, an attempt to push down the doubt that tries to make its way up his vocal cords. 

Donghyuck’s eyes fall on him, briefly scanning him the same way he had just done for himself. “Are you?” he retorts.

Johnny shakes his head, before turning it behind him in the direction of the other members. “Is everyone okay?” he practically yells.

He gets a couple of nods and vocal confirmations in return— but the tension is not lost on Johnny. Not when it’s becoming harder to blink away the smoke slowly invading the tight space.

He catches Taeyong’s worried gaze.

“Can you move?” Johnny asks him, and Taeyong presses his lips together before quickly tugging on the seatbelt, no doubt having the same thought as Johnny.

Smoke is never a good sign— they need to get out of here, quickly.

When Johnny hears the click, a sigh of relief escapes him, and he watches as Taeyong pries himself out of the seat, urging Doyoung next to him to do the same. 

Johnny’s eyes follow them as they make their way towards the members in the back, who are all in the process of breaking themselves free, now with the added help of Taeyong and Doyoung. It lifts a bit of the weight off his chest, and he starts to work on getting himself out, too. 

It takes longer than he’d like, but after a little bit of wriggling and prying, the belt clicks and quickly retracts back into its holder. He sighs in relief, leaning back into the seat triumphantly before watching Donghyuck struggle with his own.

Johnny’s eyebrows furrow, and after a moment, Donghyuck turns his head to look at Johnny helplessly. 

“Is it stuck?” Johnny asks, the feeling of urgency immediately resurfacing.

Donghyuck nods nervously, and Johnny follows his gaze until he finds the point where it’s caught— the mangled metal covers the buckle where the belt is plugged into, effectively rendering it useless. 

He sighs; there’s no way they can get him out with brute force. 

Johnny turns back towards the others, all of whom have broken themselves free and started trying to pry one of the doors open.

“Does anyone have anything sharp?” he calls out to them.

Several faces turn in his direction, but Doyoung is first to ask, “Why?” his face tinged with unease.

Johnny tries his best not to let the fear taint his voice. “Hyuck’s seat belt won’t budge.” 

He sees Doyoung’s Adam’s apple bob up and down before he speaks. “We’ll look,” he says resolutely, eyebrows pinched.

Johnny looks to his side, at Donghyuck’s pale face and the desperate expression on it. He looks him in his eyes, attempting a reassuring smile. “Just our luck, huh?”

Donghyuck gives a tight nod, eyes flicking to the scene in front of them, to the black smoke that has filled almost the entirety of the vehicle. 

“We got up at 5 a.m. for this...” Donghyuck says regretfully.

Johnny lets out a strained laugh, sucking in a breath as he looks over his shoulder tensely— the van is empty, the others all looking for supplies to get them out of this situation. He can’t decide if it’s comforting to know that they’re mainly out of harm's way, or if it’s a terrifying thought to have been left on their own. 

He sighs, letting his head hit the backrest before turning it back to Donghyuck. He’s about to open his mouth to say something to try and ease the tension he recognizes behind Donghyuck’s words, when he falters. 

There’s a speck of red on Donghyuck’s lips. 

Johnny freezes. He can feel Donghyuck’s confused eyes on him, and he brings his own up to look at the other with unease. 

“Donghyuck,” he starts, a suffocating feeling in his chest. “You’re bleeding.”

Donghyuck looks down in confusion, grazing his fingers over his side. Johnny moves to correct him, but stops when he catches sight of Donghyuck’s hands. They come up red, covered in blood. 

Dread pools in his stomach as he looks more closely at Donghyuck’s shirt. The red blends in perfectly with the black of the fabric, concealing any immediate tell-tale signs of injury. He feels his breath quicken at the realization.

“How did I not…” Donghyuck mumbles in shock, eyes wide.

Johnny swallows, gaze fixed on the hands that Donghyuck now has pressed against his side. It does nothing to stop the blood from flowing.

He hesitates, bringing his hands closer and his head up to look at the younger. “Can I…?”

Donghyuck nods, and it seems that the discovery of the wound has triggered its pain, as well, with the way his face is scrunched up.

Johnny reaches forward to take hold of the hem of the shirt, before slowly peeling the fabric off of the wet skin. For a while, it’s only the golden color that Johnny is used to seeing, but then, on Donghyuck’s side, right below the ribs, he spots the cut. It’s far from pretty —rough edges and marred skin dosed in blood, slowly trickling down— but he continues to look despite the way his stomach lurches. Then, he notices the glint.

Bile rises up Johnny’s throat as he inspects the source. “It’s glass…” he reveals, voice barely audible.

A shard is plunged into the wound —how deep, he doesn’t know— broken off at the edge and leaving only a small piece of the material visible. The sight makes him tear his gaze away. 

“What…” Donghyuck whispers in confusion, before looking at Johnny with those big eyes of his. “Do we pull it out?” 

Johnny falters for a moment, before blurting out a sharp “No,” if only because it’s the one thing he remembers from all the medical dramas. “Just— don’t touch it. Let’s just wait for the others. They’ll… they’ll get help.” 

He doesn’t know who he’s convincing— himself or Donghyuck. Nonetheless, the younger seems to accept his words, and he resorts to covering the wound with his hands instead.

Johnny observes him— the way his eyebrows are pulled together, the beads of sweat dripping down his forehead, the unusually pale skin. It makes something ugly twist in his gut.

Gnawing at his bottom lip, Johnny tells him then, “You’re gonna be okay,” barely above a whisper. “I promise.”

Donghyuck looks at him, almost with skepticism, and Johnny simply gives him —forces— a small smile. “And when have I ever broken a promise?” 

Donghyuck closes his eyes, a huff escaping his nose. “That time you…” he has to pause to catch his breath. “You said you would give me your ps5 if— if they ran out of stock.” 

Johnny really doesn’t want to think about what it means if he’s struggling to breathe. 

“You’d just refurbished your PC,” Johnny argues instead, purposely keeping his tone light.

“But—“ Donghyuck starts, and Johnny imagines he would be pouting were it any other situation. “Overwatch in 4K…”

He doesn’t have to force the tiny laugh that escapes him, a fleeting moment of normalcy before his mind reminds him of the situation they’re in. 

“When we get out of here,” Johnny starts, refusing to even think of using any word other than when, “I’ll give it to you.”

Donghyuck’s eyes shine, finally housing something other than pain. 

“You’re the best, hyung,” he says, and Johnny almost expects him to lay his head on his shoulder like he usually does, but the younger remains static, preoccupied with not tousling the injury.

It’s then that Johnny hears the sound of metal from behind them, and his heart almost goes out before he realizes it’s just Taeyong opening the door. Taeyong swings a hand in front of him, coughing from the smoke before finally reaching their side. 

He holds out a pair of scissors. “Thank god for Mark always being over prepared, right?”

Johnny takes it from him wordlessly, leveling him with the most serious look he’s probably ever given him. “Taeyong.” He tries to keep his voice low in an attempt to mask the panic bubbling beneath the surface. “Call an ambulance.”

Taeyong’s eyebrows shoot up, pupils quickly going between the two of them. His mouth falls agape, but before he can ask the question, Johnny explains, “It’s Hyuck.”

If possible, his eyes go even wider, immediately falling upon the younger in alarm. “What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice pitched higher in his distress. 

Johnny puts the scissors around his fingers, leaning forward to reach the seat belt by Donghyuck’s side. “He’s hurt,” he explains, eyes not looking up.

“How bad?” Taeyong asks urgently.

Johnny bites his lip, trying to ignore the blood stain he can see from the corner of his eye so that he can focus on cutting through the tough material beside it. “Just get a phone,” he replies, barely keeping his composure. “And make sure you have service. I swear to god, climb a fucking tree if you to.”

Finally, the seatbelt budges, the two halves immediately snapping back into their holders once cut like a thread. Johnny doesn’t try to hold back the sigh of relief.

Taeyong is still nervously hovering by their side, eyes scanning over the younger in search of the injury. Johnny shoots him a look. “Go. I’ll take care of him.”

After one last hesitant glance, Taeyong quickly disappears, and the two are left alone again.

Johnny turns back towards the younger, looking down at the way he’s curled up against the seat with sympathy. “Do you think you can stand?”

Donghyuck hesitates for a second, eyes still squeezed shut in pain before giving a weak nod. Johnny is doubtful, but it’s not like they have much of a choice. 

Pursing his lips, Johnny holds out a hand towards Donghyuck, already empathizing with the pain the younger is about to endure. Donghyuck blinks his eyes open, pupils fixated on the hand stretched out in front of him before he grips it tightly. Johnny hoists him up as Donghyuck groans in pain, the sound making his heart ache for him.  

With Donghyuck’s hand slumped over his shoulder, Johnny carries the younger’s weight as they stumble their way through the van. He purposely tries to keep his eyes from lingering on the hand that Donghyuck has clenched over his side protectively, or the accelerated rise and fall of his chest. 

They reach the door, and finally— clear air. Only then does he notice the way his eyes are stinging from the smoke and how his throat burns with each exhale. The violent coughs from both of them immediately cause several eyes to turn in their direction. 

He sees relief flash across Jaehyun’s face, Doyoung and Taeil next to him mirroring the expression, until their eyes fall on the figure at Johnny’s side, and immediately they widen in alarm. 

“Help me get him away from here,” Johnny tells them. “—he’s heavy,” he adds weakly in jest. 

Donghyuck lifts his head slightly to glare at him. Johnny is just happy to see something other than the pained expression on him.

The three hurry over to them. “What happened?” Doyoung breathes out, disbelieving eyes looking up at them. “You were fine when we left— we made sure…” he trails off in confusion, worry clouding his features.

Jaehyun goes to grab Donghyuck’s other arm in order to further support him, but freezes when Donghyuck groans in pain at the movement. Startled, he looks down, following where Donghyuck’s arm leads.

“Is that— is that blood?” Taeil stammers out in shock.

Donghyuck gives a weak huff. “It’s just a scratch.” The way his voice is slightly slurred does not give the statement any merit.

The three pairs of eyes find Johnny’s in search of answers, each reflecting their own newly-found panic. Johnny presses his lips together, diverting his gaze towards Donghyuck’s shaky hand doused in blood. “Someone give me a jacket— or a shirt,” he tells them instead, leaving their silent questions unanswered.

Taeil quickly starts to unbutton his blouse, removing it with little care for the expensive item, leaving only the white t-shirt he’d worn underneath. Johnny takes it from him when handed, immediately bringing it closer to Donghyuck's side. “You can let go, baby,” he whispers gently when the younger doesn’t seem to notice the attempt to wrap the injury, only pulling his hand away upon hearing Johnny’s words. 

Johnny presses it against the wound, the shirt’s original blue color slowly turning purple as blood invades the fabric. His other hand occupied with holding Donghyuck upright, he’s unable to tie the sleeves together so it stays in place. Instead, Doyoung moves to do it for him, while Jaehyun takes Donghyuck’s other arm and puts it over his shoulder now that it isn’t static in covering the injury. 

Donghyuck now secured between Johnny and Jaehyun, the five slowly cross the desolate road in order to create more distance between them and the smoking vehicle, eventually reaching a small, empty parking lot on the other side. The van is still very much in sight, but not too close for comfort.

They lay Donghyuck on the ground carefully, unsure of how else to relieve the pain from standing upright. 

Doyoung hovers by Johnny’s side, hesitantly turning to him. “Can I see it?” 

Johnny looks at Donghyuck and the concerningly pale shade of his face. If the ambulance isn’t already headed towards them, then their makeshift bandage is not going to be enough to keep the injury at bay. The thought sits heavily in his stomach.

He turns back to Doyoung, giving him a curt nod, before crouching down beside their youngest. “We’re gonna take another look at your side, is that okay?” 

Donghyuck nods with the uncharacteristically small amount of energy he has left. “Don’t do anything weird,” he mumbles with half-lidded eyes.

Johnny smiles down at him softly, running a hand through his sweaty hair. “Promise.” 

From the corner of his eye, Johnny can see Doyoung carefully untying the blouse Taeil had lent them, Jaehyun beside him ready to pull Donghyuck’s own shirt up to expose the area. Taeil stands nervously to the side, looking like he wants to help but doesn’t know how to.

While they work, Johnny watches the sporadic rise and fall of Donghyuck’s chest. Each breath too quick and short as he seemingly struggles to inhale properly. Johnny wishes he knew what it meant. 

When Jaehyun peels the fabric from Donghyuck’s skin, Johnny’s eyes can’t help but drift back towards the grotesque sight of the wound— the way the surrounding area is completely covered in red, and the bruising he hadn’t noticed before already starting to show around his abdomen. He hears Jaehyun’s sharp intake of breath first, followed by Doyoung’s hushed uttering of, “Oh my god.”

Donghyuck stirs in discomfort, groaning at the cool breeze that brushes past the newly exposed area. “I know, baby,” Jaehyun whispers from Donghyuck’s other side. “Just a little longer.”

Johnny feels Taeil’s presence move from behind them, leaning down to their level hesitantly to inspect the injury from up-close. “What is that?” he voices quietly.

Johnny follows his gaze, attention back on the object protruding from the red skin.

“Glass,” he replies, not looking up even though he feels all eyes turn in his direction. “From the window, I’m pretty sure.”

Taeil gawks, “How did that even—“ cutting himself off as he processes the information.

“Do you think it hit anything important?” Jaehyun starts, tone filled with worry. “His heart’s on the left side too.”

“If it reached his heart, he’d be dead,” Doyoung says bluntly, not caring to soften his words under stress. 

Johnny doesn’t address either of them, instead taking hold of the soaked shirt and bringing it back to cover Donghyuck’s side again, the younger gasping in pain when the object makes contact with the wound. Johnny whispers a quick apology.

He stares down at Donghyuck for a moment longer before looking up at the others, voice low. “He’s not breathing right.”

It does anything but relieve the tension that’s settled over them in the past couple of minutes, concerned looks growing more distraught as they wait for him to elaborate.

He doesn’t get the chance. Instead, his attention is caught by a set of figures coming up from behind them. After a couple of seconds, Johnny can make out the face of the first person, realizing that it’s Taeyong. Next to him, Johnny recognizes the silhouette of Yuta jogging after him. The others seem to take notice, tilting their bodies to see the cause for the distraction.

The two arrive out of breath, Taeyong with his hands on his knees and holding a cell phone in one of them. “An ambulance is coming,” he pants out.

Johnny breathes a sigh of relief, the members next to him doing the same. 

“God, what happened?” Yuta says, frozen on the spot as he stares at Donghyuck sprawled on the ground.

Johnny swallows, opening his mouth to answer, but Doyoung speaks up before he can even attempt to get a word out. “Do we have a first aid kit?”

Taeyong pauses, eyes going over the bloodied piece of clothing covering Donghyuck’s stomach. “There was one in the van. I think the other guys took—“

Suddenly, a burst of noise erupts from behind them. Johnny instinctively pulls his shoulders up in a flinch and looks up to catch everybody doing the same.  Shaken, they all spin around to assess the damage.

The van is on fire, the one Johnny and Donghyuck had been stuck in not five minutes ago. Johnny feels his heart rate rise as he stares at the orange flames. Thankfully they’re far away enough to not have come in contact with the blast from the small explosion— he doesn’t want to think about what would’ve happened if they’d been any closer, let alone if they were still in there.

Luck in the unluckiest of places.

“Jesus—“ Jaehyun breathes out in shock.

Johnny watches the fire dance in the distance, black smoke growing higher in the sky, acting as a sort of flair— a beacon signaling trouble to anyone passing by. If there’s even anyone close, that is. At least the ambulance should find them easily.

“Taeyong,” Taeil says tentatively from beside Johnny. “Where did you say the others were?”

Johnny freezes, he hadn’t thought about that possibility yet. He doesn’t want to think about that possibility.

A cough diverts his attention, then, and Johnny looks over at their youngest in alarm. Donghyuck holds the back of his hand in front of his face, chest buffering with each cough as if he can’t quite get enough air into it, like something is blocking it.

“Hey, Hyuck, slow down a little,” Jaehyun tells him gently, a hand on Donghyuck’s other arm.

“I think,” Taeyong addresses Taeil’s question, offering a tense smile to cover up the uncertainty of the situation. “They went out to the main road. To look for help.”

Johnny breathes a little easier at the confirmation that they’re probably out of harm’s way.

“Hyung,” Donghyuck croaks out between coughs, tears springing in the corners of his eyes. It breaks Johnny’s heart. "I- I can't..." he gasps.

"Can't what, baby?"

They wait for an answer, but Donghyuck struggles to produce any sounds other than the raspy, wet cough that doesn't seem to leave him— only worsening with each second.

"Can't breathe," Doyoung finishes for him with wide eyes, voice tight and panicked.

"What?" Taeil says, head shooting up.

“I think…” Doyoung trails off, reaching forward to take hold of Donghyuck’s hand after a moment of hesitation. “Look.”

Johnny’s heart drops right into his stomach. Red paints the back of Donghyuck’s hand, along with his lips, spilling down to his cheek as he hacks up the liquid in an effort to breathe. His eyes remain scrunched up, eyelashes wet with tears and his forehead laced in sweat.

He grows paler by the second, and for the first time since the crash, Johnny briefly considers the thought that they might not all be going home after this. He dismisses it as quickly as it came, but the sprout of anxiety never quite leaves the pit of his stomach.

Taeil’s voice is quiet and horror-filled. “What should we—“

“What’s going on?” a panicked voice suddenly interrupts from behind them.

Johnny’s heart clenches at the familiar sound, and he instinctively spins around to confirm if the question belongs to who he thinks it does. 

“Oh, thank god,” Taeyong sighs in relief, and Johnny feels the same way.

It’s Mark, standing before them, wide-eyed and out of place, Jungwoo beside him, expression growing increasingly distraught.

“We heard the explosion and— and we thought…“ Jungwoo stammers out, looking between each of them in search of some kind of reassurance.

“I know,” Taeyong tells him as he pulls him into a frantic hug. “We were worried too, but everyone’s okay.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Mark cuts in, tone expressive and uncertain, his eyes pointing down at the boy on the ground.

Everyone stills, searching for an answer to alleviate the rapper’s worry. There isn’t one.

“We don’t know,” Taeil admits, gaze heavy.

Anxiously, Johnny watches as Doyoung reaches across Donghyuck’s heaving chest and grabs hold of the arm opposite him. “Help me move him onto his side,” Doyoung says resolutely, level-headed despite the situation, though the waver in his voice doesn’t go unnoticed. “I think he’s choking.”

The words make Johnny’s head swim with panic, confirming exactly what he’d been dreading to hear. Hurriedly, he moves forward to assist Doyoung, pushing Donghyuck onto his injured side so gravity can drain the blood filling his lungs.

They watch with bated breath as Donghyuck gasps for air. Johnny feels the blood pump through his veins even just sitting there, helpless while they wait for any sign that their shot in the dark will actually hit its target.  

And then he sees the way Donghyuck’s eyes flutter, and it feels like his heart stops altogether. 

“Donghyuck-ah!” Doyoung yells out in panic, terror creeping into his voice. 

Donghyuck’s irises sluggishly reappear at the loud noise, and Johnny almost collapses from relief. 

“Stay with us, Hyuck, please,” Jaehyun pleads desperately, words contorting with strain. 

“‘M tired,” Donghyuck protests in between the coughs that now appear like hiccups. Johnny doesn’t know if it’s because their intervention helped, or if Donghyuck has just grown tired of fighting for oxygen. He can only hope for the former.

Johnny feels Taeyong brush past him as he crouches before the younger in leader fashion. “Donghyuckie.” His voice is gentle, and he lays a soft hand below the brown eyes that have turned to splits. “Can you look at me?”

Johnny hates how much difficulty it seems to take, but eventually more of the irises uncover. 

“That’s good. That’s really good,” Taeyong reassures. Johnny can almost hear the lump in his throat. “It’s really important that you keep these open, okay?”

There’s a small nod, and Taeyong’s lips curve slightly in response. “We’re so proud of you, Hyuckie. Just a little while, and then the pain will be gone.” Taeyong’s voice wavers noticeably on the next words. “Okay? So just… hold on for a little longer.”

It hurts, the way it sounds like even Taeyong isn’t certain if what he’s saying is true. Taeyong, who is supposed to be their first line of assurance.

“Will he be okay?” asks Mark in a small voice, searching for answers from those who are equally clueless as him.

“Of course,” Jaehyun reassures, though there’s little strength to his words. “He has to.”

No one wants to consider otherwise.

Johnny looks at the concerningly still figure before them, chest coming up irregularly, and blood forming crusts on his skin. 

“It’s Donghyuck,” Doyoung adds. None of them look up at his words, all eyes focused on the boy in question, hawkeyes watching whether or not he takes his next breath. “He’s too stubborn to…”

To die.

And it’s true, because in the next couple of moments, far, far in the distance, Johnny notices the sound of a siren.

The pure relief, the weight that lifts off his chest when he hears it, is indescribable. The sound echoes through the trees, and all heads look up expectantly, hopeful expressions perking up.

Johnny subconsciously squeezes Donghyuck’s hand in anticipation, the younger’s tired eyes tilting toward him at the gesture. Johnny allows the corners of his lips to form a triumphant smile. “You’re gonna be okay,” he tells him then, this time having scrambled together some semblance of confidence. 

The ambulances —plural— arrive before long, the sirens having become almost deafening at this point. It’s only when one of the paramedics asks Johnny a question, that his newfound hope is quickly crushed again.

The medic is crouching down beside Donghyuck, two fingers against his neck, and her own eyebrows drawn together. “How long has he been unconscious?”

Johnny stops in his tracks, taking in the way Donghyuck’s eyes are now firmly shut, somehow having missed that crucial detail in the commotion of their rescue.

He almost forgets to answer. “He was awake when we…” The words escape him, unable to focus as he watches the color fade from Donghyuck’s skin.

The woman understands him nonetheless, nodding stoically before turning to her partner.

Johnny hovers nervously, eyes scanning the rest of the group as they’re being looked over by the other EMTs, the pit in his stomach growing deeper with each second that passes. He deliberately ignores trying to figure out all the scary-sounding medical terms he overhears being used to discuss Donghyuck’s condition beside him. His anxiety levels are already high enough as it is.

The only ones who receive extra attention from the medical team are Jungwoo and Mark, having been seated closer to the place of impact than the others, who have all seemingly been deemed as unharmed. The knowledge has Johnny breathing a little easier. 

And then he sees Donghyuck, the way he’s lying on the stretcher, eyes closed and the pained creases on his forehead having smoothed out. He almost looks peaceful, if you ignore the blood splatters on his lips and the color of his skin that reminds Johnny of the time they had all dressed up as vampires for their comeback.

Johnny trails behind them wordlessly, not even considering any option besides joining them in the vehicle. 

The two paramedics call over their colleagues and they quickly discuss a plan. 

“There’s nine of them, so let’s take three per truck. We can’t wait for backup,” the woman from earlier orders.

“We’ll make it work,” someone from one of the other teams replies with a nod.

Her partner opens up the back doors in the meantime, and Johnny can see some of his members watching the situation unfold with big eyes behind them.

“We’ve got the kid. You’ll tail us, right?” she looks at the rest of the team expectantly.

“Right behind you,” they affirm before dispersing and getting ready to make their leave.

Johnny sees them guide Jungwoo and Mark towards different ambulances, but Mark rigidly stays in place.

Before either Johnny or the paramedic can tell him to listen to what’s being asked of him, he speaks up in an unsteady voice, repeating his earlier question. “Is he gonna be okay?” Wide, hopeful eyes looking between both the medics.

She hesitates, while her partner levels Mark with a comforting pat on his shoulder and a, “We’ll do our best, kid.” A sympathetic smile on his face.

That’s not the answer either Mark or Johnny wanted to hear.

The woman grows impatient, barking a, “Let’s go!” and Johnny is quickly climbing into the back of the ambulance. He watches the other members hesitate, communicating with their eyes, before Taeyong eventually makes the final decision by joining Johnny and their injured maknae, doors quickly closing and gas pedal immediately pressed. 

_____________________

Taeyong never wants to see Donghyuck like this again. The deathly pale skin, the bandages on his hands leading to an IV, the obnoxious, but thankfully steady beeping of the heart monitor and various other machines he’s hooked up to. Everything combined, you’ve got one of Taeyong’s worst nightmares.

When Donghyuck had gone into surgery for his leg years before, waking up all disoriented and drugged out, it had been endearing. The members’ good-natured teasing and smothering making for a comfortable atmosphere.

This is nothing like that time. 

Instead, Taeyong finds himself alone in the ICU, cradling Donghyuck’s hand as if letting go would make him disappear. The only thing separating them from the other patients being the curtains on either side of the bed, though it does nothing to repel the groans and delirious mumblings that seem to be a constant in the room filled with the critically injured.

Donghyuck is in no better condition, cloudy, half-lidded eyes gazing up at Taeyong whenever they aren’t squeezed shut in pain. All Taeyong can do is rub circles on his hand and offer meaningless but hopefully comforting reassurances.

“I wanna go home, hyung,” Donghyuck whines as he weakly tugs at the IV taped to his hands. “Hurts. I wanna sleep,” he mumbles, words slurred and filter removed from the morphine and lingering effects of anesthesia.

No matter how many times Taeyong has heard those words in the past hour, it still breaks his heart every time.

“I know, Hyuckie,” he says as he redirects Donghyuck’s hands away from the wire. “It’s just for tonight.”

Taeyong is lucky though, lucky to be the first one to visit their youngest. After sitting in the waiting room for hours, anxiously hoping for any kind of good news, all of them were ecstatic to hear that Donghyuck had gotten through surgery fine, that he would actually be okay. Everyone wanted to jump on the opportunity to see him, but only one visitor was allowed at a time in the critical care unit. It hadn’t been much of a debate who would go first. Leader privileges, Taeyong supposes.

“Can we give him something?” Taeyong asks when he notices a nurse standing at the foot of the bed, jotting down Donghyuck’s vitals for the hourly checkup. “For the pain?”

She looks up from her notepad, pressing her lips together in an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I can’t do more than what’s been prescribed.”

Pocketing the pad and closing the curtain behind her, she tells him, “You should be able to use the morphine pump again soon, though.”

Taeyong nods absentmindedly, even if her back is turned towards him when he does so.

The nurse then positions herself beside the bed to pull the covers off and expose Donghyuck’s ribs, inspecting the bandage that lies there. Taeyong tries not to look, but his eyes can’t help but drift over to the nasty black and purple that covers the younger’s chest.

Apparently, as the surgeon had told all of them in the waiting room an hour ago, Donghyuck had been suffering from internal bleeding on top of the puncture wound they’d all witnessed. The combination is what caused him to nearly choke to death on the blood accumulating in his lungs. 

“Donghyuck-ssi, on a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your pain?”

Donghyuck groans, peeling his eyes open and gazing up at the nurse deliriously. “Mm, six…?” 

She nods, turning to Taeyong. “I’ll check if there’s any room for extra.”

“Thank you,” Taeyong tells her.

She disappears behind the curtain not long after. It leaves Taeyong with a heavy heart.

He was here when she’d checked up on Donghyuck the first time, and he’s still here for the second time. It tells him that more than an hour has passed since he stepped into the ICU. He can’t stall much longer. 

The curtain opens up again, and she comes back holding a plastic cup in her hand. “This is really all I can give him,” she explains apologetically, if not a little sternly.

“I understand. Thank you,” he replies with a small, polite bow.

She leaves him with the cup of water, and tablets still in the packet. They look familiar, like a type of aspirin. Taeyong doubts it’s going to do much.

“Hyuck, I have some more pills for you.”

He tilts his head in Taeyong’s direction again, eyes a little more focused now that he’s being directly talked to. 

“Why?” he slurs.

Taeyong offers a small smile. “To help with the pain.”

“Oh.”

It would almost be cute, the delayed responses compared to his usual sharpness, if Taeyong ignored the glaringly obvious reason behind them. 

“Here.” He places the aspirins on Donghyuck’s tongue, before putting the water cup to his lips. He watches Donghyuck swallow, pulling a face of disgust.

“Gross.”

Taeyong laughs, genuinely for the first time in hours, a fond smile quickly pulling at his cheeks. 

“Never change, Hyuckie,” he says as he ruffles the younger’s hair.

Taeyong knows he’s running out of time, but he can’t help but stall a little longer, the knot in his stomach only tightening as he looks at Donghyuck in the hospital gown, looking so fragile and small that Taeyong can’t push down the protective feeling that’s remained ever since he first laid eyes on the feisty rookie all those years ago.

He clasps one of Donghyuck’s clammy hands in his own. “Haechannie, do you remember what I said to you back when Dream first debuted?”

A meek shake of the head.

Taeyong swallows around the lump in his throat. “I promised you that I would take care of you all. You were so young and I— I just wanted to protect you.”

Pictures of the 16-year old flash in his mind— a big teasing smile under a mop of wavy brown hair. And when he looks back at the hospital bed, that’s all he sees. A kid. 

Squeezing his eyes shut, Taeyong chokes out the next words. “Hyung failed you. I’m so sorry.”

Weak fingers wrap around Taeyong’s hands atop the sheets. 

“Don’t cry.” Donghyuck’s eyes are sincere, even if his pupils are a little blown. “I held on, didn’t I?”

Taeyong crumbles, recalling his last conversation he had with Donghyuck before he fell unconscious. He asked him to hold on— they were losing him and Taeyong asked him to hold on.

“You did.” Crying into the sheets that lie beneath their tangled hands, Taeyong sobs. “Thank god you did.” 

_____________________

Taeil can’t get the images out of his head. Donghyuck stumbling out of the van, fiercely clutching a patch of crimson with one hand, the other draped over Johnny as if it’s the only thing keeping him upright; Pulling back the soaked shirt to reveal the most gruesome wound Taeil has ever seen, something which he’d never in a million years expected to see on their youngest; Watching from a distance as Donghyuck is put on a gurney, face too pale and chest terrifyingly still. Then the doors close— and suddenly, Taeil’s in the back of an ambulance desperately trying to keep his composure, because he needs to be there for Mark and Jungwoo who are way too young to be experiencing this. (And Donghyuck, god, Donghyuck who’s only twenty-two.)

But the worst part is being stuck between these four walls, restless as he watches the hours tick by on the clock he can’t tear his eyes away from, unable to do anything but wait.

A doctor had come by when several had already passed —hours, that is— and informed them just how terrifyingly close they had been to losing Donghyuck. A blur of punctured lungs and internal bleeding and other things Taeil never wants to think about again.

Then Taeyong went to see him, and now they’re back to waiting.

And all Taeil can do is think. How it all feels unreal, like an unnervingly realistic nightmare. Now that the adrenaline has worn off, he just feels exhausted, and it only adds to the disconnect between where he was a few hours ago and where he is now. He’s not sure he would’ve even believed the doctor if he’d told them anything else, had told them Donghyuck wouldn’t be coming back. Because if it weren’t for the blinding white of the waiting room —if he just closes his eyes— he could pretend that Donghyuck is okay. Taeil can imagine him dozing off back at the dorms, or in the practice room, trying to put his own spin on one of their choreos. 

It all comes crashing down when Taeyong comes back with this haunted look in his eyes, looking so close to breaking that Taeil can’t try to convince himself any longer. 

This is real. There’s nothing else that would make their leader look so lost.

He sends Johnny on his way, telling him Donghyuck wants to see him next, before slumping into the now-empty seat between Taeil and Doyoung.

Doyoung turns to him impatiently. “How is he?” All heads in the room perk up at the question, eagerly awaiting the answer. 

Taeyong’s chest falls in a sigh, before he opens his eyes with the slightest hint of sorrow remaining. “He’s okay,” he says, though his low tone contradicts his words. “Or, he will be.”

Taeyong looks down at his hands, as if collecting his thoughts. “He… he’s in a lot of pain. And he’s still under the effect of whatever they gave him, but—“ he pauses for a second, his voice containing a newfound confidence when he speaks up again. “He’s still here. He’s still Donghyuck.”

Taeil searches for Taeyong’s eyes again, and the sincerity, the determination in them is what ultimately allows him to release some of the tension in his shoulders.

Donghyuck will be okay.

Doyoung clears his throat. “Are his injuries…?” he trails off.

Taeyong seems to understand what he’s asking anyway, pressing his lips together briefly before answering. “They’re…” he hesitates. “He’ll pull through. It’ll leave a mark, but…”

“Did he say anything?” Mark interrupts, hesitant but hopeful. 

Taeyong eyes Mark with something akin to pity, a frown marring his forehead. “That he wants to go home.”

Taeil doesn’t know what he was expecting, but his heart shatters at the words. 

Mark’s shoulders slump in response, and Yuta pulls him closer in a hug.

“You know,” Jaehyun speaks up after a brief moment of silence. Taeil can see his foot bouncing from across the room. “Sitting here, letting the shock and everything calm down for a bit, it only now starts to sink in that Hyuck could’ve died.”

The words feel like they echo through Taeil’s head, repeating until his heart practically bursts. They’re exactly what he’s been trying to avoid thinking about.

“When he came out of that van,” —Taeil surprises himself when he hears his own voice— “and… and there was all this blood, I thought—“ a sob escapes his throat before he can even realize.

He doesn’t want to think about this. He just wants to stay in his little bubble where Donghyuck is alive and well and unharmed, and where they haven’t all just gone through this horrific experience.

“It doesn’t matter what could’ve happened, because it didn’t. We need to worry about what did,” Doyoung says forcefully, before looking everyone in the eyes sharply. “Do the other members even know what happened?”

_____________________

Renjun is eating dinner when he gets the call. He has to look away from the Disney movie playing on the TV to silence his buzzing phone, getting curious looks from the Dream members on the couch. 

He frowns at the name on his screen— 127’s manager rarely ever calls him, or any of the Dreamies. Let alone outside of working hours. 

Renjun swallows his last bite to answer with a confused, “Hello?”

It only draws more attention to him. Renjun can practically feel Chenle’s eyes boring into his back impatiently.

“Renjun-ah?” says the speaker into his ear.

“Yeah, uh, hi?” is the first thing that leaves his mouth, before he realizes that it’s probably rude, following it up with, “What do you need?” 

A deep breath comes from the other line. “Look, Renjun, I’m not gonna sugarcoat it.”

His heart jumps when he hears those words. If it were their own manager, he might scan his memory in search of recent mistakes he might’ve made, or worry if he’s been involved in any scandals. But it’s not. So Renjun has no idea what this could be about. 

“The boys from 127, they were in a car accident today.”

His brain short circuits, refusing to compute any of the information. His jaw hangs open dumbly, and he has to do about five system reboots before he can even sputter out a, “What?”

Everyone’s staring at him, he notes absentmindedly. Thankfully the manager doesn’t allow him to spiral any further.

“Everyone survived, thank god, but there are injuries. You should probably come to the hospital.”

He blinks, and some of the fog finally starts to clear. All he’s left with is this distinct sinking feeling as he takes in the information. He feels bile rise in his throat, and he has to remind himself that they’re all, apparently, alive.

“Is everyone with you? Will you relay it to them?”

It takes a while for him to find his voice again before he finally manages to respond, swallowing the lump in his throat as he looks at all his members’ concerned faces. “Yeah. We’re— we’re on our way. Text me the address.”

As soon as the call ends, everyone’s all over him.

“Hyung, what’s going on?” Chenle demands.

“Who was that?” asks Jeno.

The movie is long paused, and they’re all turned towards Renjun with these distressed looks on their faces. Jisung is fidgeting nervously, Jaemin clenching his jaw, Jeno firmly pulling his eyebrows together, and Chenle is glaring daggers at the abandoned phone in Renjun’s hand.

Renjun takes a panicked breath. “We— we need to go.” Scrambling to get up from the floor.

Jeno stops him, grabbing hold of his arm and leveling him with a calm, yet concerned glare. “Renjun, what’s wrong?” 

His voice is steady, demanding, and it’s just enough to ground Renjun.

He just stands there for a moment, wide-eyed and frantic, before he spits it out. “The hospital. We need to go. Now.”

Jeno lets go at the words, frozen in shock.

Renjun holds his gaze, hoping to convey the severity of the situation, before breaking it to look toward the others in the room. In desperation, he says, “It’s 127.”

_____________________

It feels like walking through a maze, none of the endless corridors leading anywhere meaningful. For all Jisung knows, the nurse is playing a prank on them and they’ve been walking in circles all this time.

Jisung is this close to taking over Donghyuck’s habit of biting his nails— he’s so nervous, he could probably chew off his entire fingers. Anything to distract his mind from the vivid imagery his brain keeps conjuring. Worst case scenarios that leave him wondering how they’re ever going to pick themselves up after this.

He barely registers when they turn another corner, only watching as his feet slog across the floor. It takes him a moment to realize everyone’s footsteps have ceased, and Jisung follows suit by planting his feet.

He lifts his head to find several already looking at him from across the room, and Jisung feels a huge weight lift off his chest at the sight of each of them. 

Renjun launches himself into Mark’s arms. “Thank god you’re okay.”

And Jisung lets instinct take over, running to the first person he sees. Taeyong’s arms wrap around him and Jisung deflates in their hold, freely allowing the tears to flow as he sobs into his chest.

“It’s okay,” Taeyong whispers over and over.

But it’s not. Because Jisung saw them, when he walked in— saw all of their faces, eyes red-rimmed and broken.

And one was missing.

“Hyung,” he whispers, voice breaking even at the low volume. “Where is…?”

Taeyong’s face crumples, and Jisung feels sick to his stomach.

He lays a firm hand on Jisung’s shoulder, grounding him back to the present. Eyes glistening, Taeyong’s lips form a gentle, reassuring smile. “He’s okay, I promise.”

And Jisung believes him. 

Gradually, Taeyong starts to explain everything to him, leaving out all the scary details and only sharing what’s relevant now.

No one is fatally injured, only Mark and Jungwoo suffered minor damage. Apart from Donghyuck, who apparently went into surgery this morning and is now recovering in the private clinic they’re in after being transferred.

And most importantly, they can go see him.

_____________________

Jisung is last to walk into the room, only able to watch the backs of his members as they all gather near the bed. When he does finally step over the threshold, he releases the breath he’s been holding ever since Renjun got the call.

Donghyuck is pale against the hospital gown that peeks from under the covers, the scattered moles and dark bags lining his eyes creating a stark contrast— but he’s smiling. He looks like death. And yet he’s smiling. 

Instantly, Jisung feels dizzy with relief. 

“Well, aren’t I popular,” Donghyuck greets.

Renjun’s face scrunches up in frustration, simultaneously blinking away stray tears from his eyes. “God, I wish I could hit you right now.”

“You’re alive!” Chenle cheers, only half-joking.

Jeno offers a gentle smile. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I just got hit by a truck.”

Jisung wants to laugh. He’s spent the last hours fidgeting and gnawing at his nails, worried out of his mind for the hyungs he could never imagine losing. And now that he’s here, he’s a wreck.

“Hyung, what the fuck,” Jisung says bluntly.

The world feels like it pauses. Everyone turns towards him, eyes so big they could pop out of their skulls.

Renjun groans, glaring accusingly. “Jaemin, what have you been teaching him?”

“Nothing!” Jaemin argues innocently.

“—I can’t believe you,” Jisung continues, stepping closer to the bed towards a dumbfounded Donghyuck.  “You… you almost died!”

Donghyuck tilts his head. “I’m… sorry?”

Jisung barely even opens his mouth before he’s interrupted.

“I think what Jisung is trying to say…” Jeno puts a hand on his shoulder, accompanied by a slightly judgmental glare. “Is that we’re glad you’re okay.”

The others nod in agreement.

A soft smile appears on Donghyuck’s face, and Jisung immediately calms at the sight, warmth seeping into his chest. 

“Thanks,” Donghyuck says, along with a sheepish shrug. “For being here.”

Renjun smiles, bumping his fist against Donghyuck's shoulder. “Anytime.”

Jisung feels fuzzy watching, a familiar fondness overtaking him. He might not know what’s hiding under the covers, what caused the haunted look in the eyes of his hyungs in the waiting room, but he knows Donghyuck.

“You know, it’s not all bad,” Donghyuck says suddenly.

They stare at him. “What?” 

Donghyuck grins, teeth on full display and a familiar mischievous glint in his eyes. “Johnny owes me a playstation.”

Jisung smiles— He knows Donghyuck, and he knows he’s going to be okay.