Chapter Text
The first thing Felix registers when he starts drifting back into consciousness is the aching in his shoulders.
He groans before he can think to stifle it, cuddling closer into the warmth in front of him. He doesn't want to open his eyes. Doesn't want to wake up because if there's one thing he knows, it's that the more aware he becomes, the more pain he's going to feel. He's warm here, he's comfy.
Can't he just lay here?
Whoever he's cuddling into must still be asleep, so Felix forces himself to still so he doesn't startle them awake. Scrunches up the material of whatever top the person is wearing in his fist, head on their chest, and tunes in to the sound of their heartbeat.
The thing is, Felix has slept on many a chest before, so he knows how slow and steady a sleeping heartbeat sounds. And while this one is by no means fast, it's not sated. It's not the heartbeat of someone deep in the clutches of sleep.
He nuzzles closer. He doesn't want to be awake. God, his head hurts — why does it hurt so bad? And why can't he remember who the hell he's cuddled up with?
He doesn't have the energy to move. He doesn't want to move. His shoulders are throbbing — why are they throbbing? Why—?
Oh.
Felix tenses, inhaling sharply.
Oh, fuck.
No, no, no. Please tell him that was just a dream. Please tell him he isn't waking up the morning after his worst fucking spiral in years.
His breathing stutters, and he squeezes his eyes shut more than they were already closed, fingers tightening around the material in his fist. Fuck, why couldn't he have just fallen back asleep? Why did he have to start thinking?
He did. He actually did that. He almost fucking relapsed, he damn near burned his shoulders in the shower, and he begged Chan for help like a pathetic child who can't do anything for themselves.
He feels sick.
He pushes himself up onto his elbows, pulling away from the body that he expects to belong to Chan, and that is going to lead to The Talk. But when he shifts his gaze towards the pillows, he meets Jisung's eyes instead, Jisung's expression pinched in concern and fuck.
Felix told Chan to tell Jisung. Felix told Chan to tell Minho. He's so useless that he begged Chan to put this on their shoulders too, because Felix is struggling with even the simple task of keeping himself alive. Even keeping himself sane is too much to ask.
Everything in him is screaming at him to run. To jump out of this bed and lock himself away from all of them. Pretend that never fucking happened, make Chan swear to never bring it up again, make him promise that things can go back to normal because Felix doesn't think he can face this.
But the more he thinks about yesterday, the sicker he feels. His heart pounds in his chest, filling him with this disgusting sense of dread, the same fear that had him begging for help yesterday.
Jeongin. Felix owes him fucking everything. Everything.
Felix owes Chan everything. Felix owes them all fucking everything and he hates it. He hates that this ever became their burden, that he couldn't do one thing for them. Couldn't even hold himself together. Couldn't be stronger.
He failed.
"I'm sorry," he chokes out, instead of running, because he can tell by the look on Jisung's face right now that Chan has already told him. He knows.
Jisung lets out a hurt sound, as if it was pulled straight from his gut. "Wh— What? Why?"
Why? Felix doesn't know whether to laugh or cry.
"For— For asking Channie-hyung to tell you. For—"
"Lix." It comes out desperate, has Felix's voice failing him. "Please don't be sorry for that. You— I—"
Jisung stares at him, and all Felix can think is run, run, run. Get out of here. Get away from him. Protect him, protect them. Suffer at his own hands if it means they don't have to deal with Felix.
Jisung lets out another desperate sound. He uses his arms to leverage himself up enough to push Felix backwards onto the bed so he's hovering above him, his hair hanging around his face. But the sudden impact of the bed against Felix's shoulders has him hissing before he can even think to cover it up.
Jisung blanches, and Felix wants to fucking die. "You're hurt."
Deny. Protect. Felix is the problem, he's his own problem.
"'m not—"
"Don't lie to me," Jisung begs. "Where are you hurt?"
Felix hates himself. But he can't lie, because lying will make Jisung worry more, and Felix truly doesn't know what's worse — Jisung worrying about him because of stuff he does know, or because of stuff he doesn't know.
He's trapped. He dug this grave for himself and he's trapped, and it's his own fault but he's scared and he wishes he'd never told anyone but fuck, the thought of being alone right now makes him want to sob.
"'s'just my shoulders, " he promises. "Channie-hyung and Minho-hyung checked them over. I'm fine."
But Jisung shakes his head. "You're hurt," he whispers, so quiet, and Felix can barely dare to look at him. "You're hurt—"
"I'm fine—"
"You're not fine!" Jisung cries. Felix flinches, wanting to disappear into the mattress beneath him until he suffocates, doesn't have to face any of them again. "We wouldn't be here if you were fine. Please talk to me. Lix, please. About anything — you can talk to me about anything."
Felix can't. He shakes his head, mouth firmly shut, throat burning as Jisung's eyes shine with tears. He's going to cry, and Jisung is going to cry, and if Felix had it in him he really would push Jisung aside and flee.
But he can't. He's selfish and he can't. Because this is Jisung and Felix needs him like he needs fucking oxygen, which is why he ever told Chan to tell him in the first place. He knew it would be like this, he knew Jisung would be hurt, but he also knew that this was safer.
He's running out of options, and it was this or risking everything. It was having Chan, Minho, and Jisung on his side, or failing to fight alone and losing everything. His future, his friends, his job.
His life.
"You can," Jisung promises, his voice wobbling.
His arms are trembling as they try to hold him up above Felix, and Felix hates that Jisung is trying so hard to be the strong one here when it's Felix who caused all of these problems in the first place. It's clearly ripping Jisung apart and yet he's here, begging Felix to open up, and Felix can't even force a damn word out.
"Please." Jisung's voice is cracking and it's almost too much to bear.
Felix turns his head to the side, trying to look away from the intensity of Jisung's gaze but Jisung follows, craning his neck to try to keep Felix looking at him and Felix gives in, has to, forcing his head back straight. Forcing himself to look at the damage he caused.
And god, does Felix want to disappear. Seeing Jisung so worried, so worked up and on the verge of crying, because of him. But he can't. That doesn't make it any easier to find his words, though, not that he would even really know what to say. He just wants to take the pain away from Jisung.
And he could. He knows how. He knows the way to protect them, he knows the way to make it stop for them. He knows how to take all of that hurt and direct it on himself, and he knows that he shouldn't but he also feels like he should.
"I'm scared."
He doesn't even realise he's the one that said it until Jisung's face falls, and it's far too difficult to breathe.
"Lix—"
"I'm sorry," Felix whimpers. "I— I don't— I'm scared. I—"
He can't reassure him. He can't explain himself. He can't even fucking apologise properly. And he's making things worse, he's always making things worse.
His vision is so blurry he can barely see anything but if he blinks then the tears will fall, and he'll start crying and he can't fix anything if he cries. He's trying to choke out words but he doesn't think any of it makes sense, if he's even able to get a damn word out because all he has done is fail up until now and he doesn't know how to be any better.
But he has to blink at some point, and his vision clears the moment he does, wet trails dribbling down the sides of his face. Jisung's panic worsens, somehow. Then there's a sharp inhale, and warmth on Felix's neck, and Jisung closes the distance between them in an instant. Felix feels Jisung's soft lips push against his own, and—
Oh.
Jisung pulls back just as fast, eyes wide and tears dripping onto Felix's hoodie beneath him. "I'm sorry. Shit, I'm— I'm so sorry. Lix, I—"
Felix doesn't think, just acts. Surges up into a hug, biting back his pained hiss as Jisung wraps his arms around him, clinging to his shoulders and face buried in Felix's neck.
"I'm sorry," Jisung sobs, muffled into the material of Felix's hoodie but breaking Felix's heart all the same. "I just— I love you. So much. And I— I don't know how else to show you and—" Felix tries to swallow down his own tears but it's too much, and his throat burns, and he does his best to hide his own crying in Jisung's own shoulder. "I can't lose you, Lix, I can't. I can't, I don't know what I'd do, I'd—"
He breaks off into a loud, shattering sob and Felix wants to throw up or disappear or both, preferably.
"I'm sorry for kissing you. I'm sorry, I'm sorry—"
That finally rips a hurt sound out of Felix, which has Jisung's words cutting off. Felix pulls back, though it's a struggle as Jisung stays clinging to him, trying to move with him. But Felix urges him out of his hiding space in his neck, hands cradling beneath Jisung's jaw as Jisung's bloodshot eyes meet Felix's own.
"It's okay," Felix whispers, with a heartbroken but genuine smile. "We're okay."
Jisung's breath hitches, the panic in his eyes fading just a little. But he still sobs, still cries. "You're not."
And... Yeah. Felix doesn't know what that kiss did to his brain, why his thoughts don't feel like they're driving him crazy any more. But he loves kisses, always has. It's just so common for Jisung to shy away from them, and Felix is lucky if he's able to sneak in a cheek kiss once a month.
He doesn't have a crush on Jisung, he doesn't like-like Jisung. That's not what kisses are to Felix. Okay, yeah, kisses on the lips are a bit of a different ballpark but still, it's just affection for Felix. Just like cuddling, only more intimate. More of a connection.
More love.
And, sure, maybe they calm him down a little. He's not exactly at ease here, stomach still twisting, heart still crumbling, but he at least feels like he has more of a grasp on his thoughts, more control over his words. He doesn't feel like he's spiralling.
Now, he can focus on the moment. On just the two of them. Not the what-ifs and what-should-have-beens. On the fact that he has Jisung here, and he just has to reassure, and he just has to reassure him, be the one to calm him down instead, and things will be okay.
Well, not okay. Nothing will be better. Felix can't really fix anything, and that's kind of the point, isn't it? He has trapped himself, given himself no choice but to ask for help, but asking for help doesn't fix anything. It's not a magic cure.
It's just a flicker of hope, the only flicker Felix has.
"You're not okay," Jisung whispers, shaky.
Felix swallows thickly, pushing down the lump in his throat. "Will you help me?" he asks, and it's weak, strangled, but it's all he knows to say. All he knows that will bring Jisung's focus to the fact that he can help, he can make a difference. No, Felix isn't okay, but there is a reason Jisung knows.
Jisung holds himself up with one hand, using the back of his other hand to wipe at each of his eyes and cheeks as he laughs wetly, scared. "You'll let me?"
Felix nods before he can find an excuse to stop himself. "Please."
Jisung dives down for another hug. His fingers cling to Felix's back and Felix hisses before he can stop himself, but he's also sort of grateful that he can't stop himself because the whole reason his shoulders hurt in the first place is because his mind was so detached from his own body that he couldn't register the pain properly.
Registering pain is good. It means he's here, he's not losing himself.
"Ow, ow."
Jisung pulls back again. "Shit, sorry. Sorry."
But Felix doesn't get the chance to convince him it's fine before Jisung is rolling over and, hands at Felix's sides, pulling Felix with him until their roles are reversed, and Felix is the one on top. Like this, Jisung is able to push up into a hug but wrap his arms around Felix's lower back instead, and Felix gets to wrap his arms around Jisung's shoulders and be held.
He lets himself relax into the hug, knees caging Jisung's hips, pretty much his whole body weight resting on Jisung the way he knows Jisung likes. And he just breathes. They're fine. Jisung is as close to fine as he can be. Felix is... not fine, but he can work towards that. He wants to work towards that.
"I can't lose you," Jisung whispers, again, and it just breaks Felix's heart.
He doesn't tell him that he won't lose him. He can't say that. He can't lie to him, to any of them. He can't spout false hope. It's not that he wants them to worry, he just...
The idea of saying things like you won't lose me and everything will be okay just feels so... empty. So fake. Because Felix doesn't believe any of those things, and he doesn't know how long it's going to take for him to believe those things. He wants to be reassuring, but he doesn't want to lie.
So, quietly, he says, "I'm here," and he hopes that's enough.
Jisung takes in one big, shaky, uneven breath. Like he's trying to process that. "You'll stay?" he asks, and Felix's heart pounds.
He can't make that promise. He wants to. He wants to be able to say it and mean it. And, logically, he knows that not saying it wouldn't make it any easier on them if he left, but he still can't stomach the thought of promising them he isn't going anywhere only to go down the same route as his uncle.
Is it cowardly of him? Yes. But he is weak.
"With me, I mean," Jisung continues, sounding so unsure. "Today. Just us."
Oh. Felix would like that.
"Yeah," he whispers, so fast it's like it was pulled from him. "Yeah, just... I gotta talk to Channie-hyung. But then us. Please."
Jisung squeezes Felix's sides with his hands. "You got it, sunshine."
Felix laughs quietly, wet, finally finding the strength to pull away. He's slow as he does it, letting Jisung's shoulders lower back down to the bed before sitting up a bit as Jisung's arms unwrap from around him and Jisung's hands settle at his hips. Felix pulls one of his sleeves over his hand, then reaches down to wipe at Jisung's cheeks.
"No more crying," he says. It's meant to be lighthearted, but his voice is so weak that it probably doesn't come out as anything short of pathetic. "We're okay."
"We're okay," Jisung mirrors.
"And no more apologising for kisses," Felix adds. That comes out with a small laugh. Jisung cracks a small, albeit sad, smile. "You know how I feel about them."
Jisung lets out a soft breath, nodding. "But don't think I'm gonna start giving 'em out for free," he warns, and Felix laughs, again. "That was a one-and-done."
Felix rolls his eyes, straightening up more so he's sitting up. He wipes at his own eyes now, forcing himself to breathe. They're okay. Everything is okay right now. He'll talk to Chan, he'll have Jisung stuck to his side. They're back to work tomorrow, so he can busy himself in schedules again, just like before.
He didn't fuck everything up entirely, not yet. He has a chance to make things right, to try to make them proud of him. To fix this whole mess he created, if that's even possible.
"Stop thinking," Jisung complains, tinged with a whine. Felix blinks down at him, trying to stay present. "I can hear you from down here."
"Sorry," he mumbles, sheepish.
Jisung just grins at him, lopsided. "Come," he says, opening his arms. "If you're gonna leave me for Chan-hyung, you're at least gonna cuddle me first."
Felix can't really deny him.
"He's not even awake yet. Stop stressing yourself out."
Chan forces his leg to stop bouncing where he sits, at his desk, staring at his laptop. He doesn't turn his chair to look at Minho, sure he'll see a stern, knowing gaze if he dares to look over. He can't deal with that right now. He can't deal with this.
Okay, that's a bit dramatic. He's just trying to sort his thoughts out, figure out what he's going to say, what he's supposed to say. What he's supposed to do. If needed, he's sure they could set up meetings for this evening, even though it's Sunday. He could figure it out. But if that falls through, they can set up meetings for tomorrow and have everything handled before midday.
If they go down that route.
How is he supposed to organise meetings when he can't even organise his own thoughts? When he can barely think of what to ask Felix, let alone what they could say in these damn meetings? He doesn't even have an idea of what the boundaries here are, and yet here he is, trying to plan out how everything might unfold in his head.
He's being trusted with so much, and the last thing he wants to do is let Felix down, to make him regret ever asking Chan for help in the first place. He wants to do right by Felix, by all of them. Protect them all as much as he possibly can.
He just never thought he'd be trying to protect any of them from themselves.
The very thought of it makes him sick. He hasn't slept. Couldn't. Without Felix literally in his arms, Chan couldn't relax for even a moment. Peeked in on Jisung and Felix more times than he's willing to admit, just to remind himself that he was safe.
Because Felix is safe. He's as safe as he can be. He has them, all of them, even those who don't know about anything. He can lean on everyone and he's learning to do that. He's learning to ask for help.
But that doesn't change how wrong this can go, so fucking fast. That, yes, Felix is progressing and he is trying but one bad day and that could be it. One bad day could ruin all of his progress, could send them — him — down a spiral he can't come back from.
And that...
Chan can't even stomach the thought of it.
"Hyung."
Chan takes a breath, still refusing to look at Minho.
"You won't be of any help to him if you wind yourself up before you two even talk."
Chan's shoulders drop. He has a point. A frustrating point, but a point nonetheless.
"How did you do it?" he asks. His voice is quiet, because he doesn't want to be asking that.
But he has to. He stopped himself from ever asking about it before because it wasn't his business. Because Felix opened up to him, was honest about his history and his struggles, but that didn't give Chan the right to go questioning Minho.
And maybe Chan still doesn't have that right. Maybe he's still being an invasive asshole right now, but Minho did this once before. Minho did right by him and Chan can't help but fear that he's going to be a disappointment. That Felix will wish he asked Minho instead, because why wouldn't he?
Minho doesn't answer. Chan swallows, because he knows Minho heard him, which means this is a way for Minho to make Chan look at him.
He takes the bait. Spins his chair and, sure enough, Minho is staring at him with a raised brow. He's on Chan's bed, propped up against the headboard, legs stretched out. His phone is on his lap. Even though Chan is looking at him now, Minho doesn't answer yet. Boy, he's not going to make this easy, is he?
"Felix," Chan specifies. "How did you help him?"
Minho narrows his eyes at him, like he's trying to read into Chan's thoughts and Chan wants to shrink, wants to turn his chair back around and hide all over again. But he stays, because he has to know, because he doesn't know what to do.
Minho leans forward a little, still nowhere near Chan, but Chan still wants to hide. "You just have to be there for him."
That's not enough. It can't be enough. Chan has always been here, but that didn't stop things from reaching this point. Being here doesn't stop Felix's thoughts. It doesn't stop Felix from worrying that he's being too much, from fearing going to them because he's scared he's being a burden. Chan can be here, but that does not guarantee that Felix will come to him.
He needs more. He needs to be more. He's supposed to be the leader, but he needs guidance. To at least be pointed in the right direction so he knows where to start because there are so many options, too many options and he's going to make the wrong choice, he knows he is.
So he shakes his head. "You make it sound so easy," he says. He can't look at Minho. Chan is supposed to be the trusted, all-knowing leader, and he can't even work through this one thing Felix needs of him. "I can't... Min, I don't know where to start. I want so badly to be this pillar that he needs me to be, but—"
"You already are that pillar," Minho says. Chan can't help but shake his head again. "He already relies on you, hyung. He came to you for help."
Yeah. Begged for Chan, sobbed into his arms, came clean about nearly hurting himself in a desperate attempt to save himself. Chan hasn't even tried to process that, because if he starts thinking about it, he's not sure he'll cope, honestly.
"He doesn't expect you to have all the answers," Minho continues. Chan wants to scoff. "He just wants you to support him. He wants you to be there for him. He wants to know that you've got this, got him. And you do, don't you?"
Of course he does. He has always got him. He has always got all of them. But that's still not enough. That doesn't tell Chan what the hell course of action he's supposed to take. Yesterday, Felix agreed to revoke some control over to Chan, to let Chan communicate what he thinks they should do. And Felix will have every vote in what happens, of course he will.
But he's hoping that Chan will at least figure out where to start. And Chan can barely breathe, let alone think.
"Yes," he says, even though he knows he doesn't have to. He knows Minho wasn't expecting anything other than that answer. "But I don't know where to go from here."
Minho's eyes soften. "You be there for him. That's all you can do."
And Chan wants to fucking cry. "But—"
"Hyung." Chan's mouth snaps shut. "Give yourself some credit. You have always done right by him, you know that."
"This is different, though," Chan says, and Minho has to understand that, surely? That these aren't normal fucking circumstances. That this isn't a small matter. This is Felix's safety, his future, his life.
"I know," Minho says. "But I wish you could see the difference between how he was years ago and how he is now. He didn't come to me. I found him, in pieces, with no sense of self-worth, with no will to keep living. I couldn't be sure we'd make it to the next morning."
Chan doesn't want to hear this. He doesn't want to think about how scared Felix was back then, how terrified he was even yesterday. Pushed to breaking point, crying to his most trusted hyungs because he had no other choice, because if he didn't then he risked losing control of himself completely.
"I don't think he thought he'd make it to the next morning."
Chan sucks in a breath, clenching his jaw and trying to breathe. Felix did make it to the next morning. He survived for years, and he's here, and he's still trying, fighting to survive. He's asking more of them for help.
Which is a good thing. It is. But it also serves to show how terrified he is, how bad this is that he's not forcing himself to work through this alone. That he asked Chan to tell Jisung despite how Jisung would react, that he asked Chan to tell Minho despite fearing Minho's disappointment.
If he's so terrified that he's willing to inform almost half the group... Chan definitely feels sick.
"What if I let him down?" Chan asks. His voice is so much weaker than he intends, but his throat feels thick, too thick to breathe, burning and he lowers his head to dig the heels of his hands into his eyes, elbows resting on his knees. He digs into his eyes until he sees little stars, leaving him wishing he could magically undo all of this, fix everything before it all went wrong.
"You are not inhuman," Minho says. "You are not perfect. But that doesn't make you a disappointment."
Not crying. He's not crying.
"You didn't hear him," Chan says, voice wobbling as he shakes his head. "You didn't— He's trusting me with everything and I don't know what to do."
He's not going to fucking cry.
But all he can think about is Felix crying, begging for help, scared out of his mind. Spiralling so far he got minutes away from doing the one thing he has spent months, years trying to fight against. That, had Jeongin not shown up, Chan might have spent his evening cleaning Felix up.
Or, worse, Felix might have spent yesterday cleaning himself up and desperately figuring out how to hide it from everyone.
He's already failing him. He's already letting him down. Felix didn't call. Chan has been working for months to make him feel more confident about making the call or text he needs to make to get Chan to come home. He didn't even use his bracelet. He was that scared, and yet still, there was some sort of mental block preventing him from reaching out to anyone. He was scared, and alone, and desperate for someone to come and help him and almost nobody did.
Chan sobs, sudden, loud, immediately followed by a weak, "Fuck," as he digs the heels of his hands harder into his eyes, trying to get a hold of himself. He doesn't have a right to be crying over this. He needs to be strong, collected, reliable.
"You do know, hyung," Minho says.
It doesn't sound like he's moving, though Chan isn't sure he can hear much over his own harsh breathing as he refuses to let himself break. Minho said it himself — he's no help to Felix if he winds himself up before they've even started talking. He's just grateful Minho isn't coming closer, because that... will be too much.
"He trusts you more than he trusts anyone. It will just take some communication."
Chan laughs, wet, pathetic.
Communication. It's gonna take a whole fucking lot more than that. Communication doesn't get the memory of Felix's uncontrollable sobbing out of his head. Communication doesn't stop Chan from re-hearing Lixie's soft, "Ouch," as he showed Chan that Felix did in fact actually hurt himself. Communication doesn't fix everything that's wrong.
"You'll do what's best for him," Minho says, and Chan doesn't know why they have such blind faith in him. Why Felix wants Chan's help, why Minho trusts Chan to do a better job than him. "You always have, hyung. You're allowed to be scared, you're allowed to be upset. You're allowed to cry. That doesn't make you any less of a 'pillar'."
Chan doesn't know what about that is what does it, but suddenly he is crying, despite how he's trying to hold his breath to stop his sobs, digging his hands more into his eyes to stop his tears. Nothing stops. Nothing is going to stop until he actually talks to Felix.
Sitting here, panicking over what to do and what not to do doesn't even fucking matter. He'll lose track of everything he wanted to say the moment he has Felix with him. He'll forget half of it, because in that moment, all that will matter will be that Felix is with him, and Chan will be useless and get caught up in the fact that Felix is safe, in front of him, and he's opening up and trying to be better.
It's all that matters. It's all that has to matter. Chan won't fuck this up, because if he does, then there is no fucking point to him. He won't let Felix down like that.
He absolutely refuses.