Tainted Rebirth
Title: Tainted Rebirth
Genre: Drama
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Chansung/Junho
Summary: I really don't know what to put here without spoiling any of it... It's a wingfic, if you like my fics/chanho, then give it a shot. =_=;; sorry.
Author's Notes: WARNING: Character death. I said I would never write it... But I did... TT-TT
Disclaimer: I do not own 2PM or ... anything
Chansung stretched, groaning loudly as his limps pulled on his muscles. He rubbed his stomach before rolling out of bed. Junho passed by his door as he opened it, hearing the small boy cough harshly, “Are you okay?”
“Mm, fine, my throat hurts a bit,” Junho poked his throat, his voice sounding a little hoarse. “I'll just drink some lemon tea.”
Chansung let out an obnoxious yawn, causing Junsu to wave his hand around and lean back, “Yah! Cover your mouth!”
The maknae grinned at the smaller boy, “Aw, my breath doesn't smell bad hyung.”
“That's not the point,” Junsu narrowed his eyes.
“Okay! Get ready!” Namyoung shouted, waving his boys into position.
Sweat poured from Chansung's brow, streaming down his cheeks and dripping off his chin. Practise was tough that day and he couldn't remember the last time Namyoung had pushed them that hard. The slightly breeze he would feel when Taecyeon waved his arms was not enough but it kept him going. Their shoes squeaked against the floor as their feet slid. Nichkhun skipped against the floor, causing sharp squeaks and making the group stop.
“Okay, take a break,” Namyoung said.
Junho coughed, sounding worse than earlier. He covered his mouth, trying to hide away from the mirrors and the group, quieting his cough with his hand. He breathed in a shaky breath, trying to calm himself. His throat stung and Junho swore he could taste blood.
A blocked cough caught Chansung's attention as he turned to Junho. A towel was thrown in his face, distracting him as he pulled it away, “Wipe yourself off,” Taecyeon said, wiping off his own face. Chansung dabbed the towel over his drenched skin, stealing a glance at the smaller boy. Junho slid down to the floor with his hand pressed against his chest.
“Jun-”
“Water?” Wooyoung asked, handing the maknae a bottle.
“Sure, thanks...” Chansung took the cold beverage, still watching Junho.
“Alright, let's go!” Namyoung shouted, barely giving the boys time to relax.
Junho sighed, pushing off the floor and standing on wobbly legs. He took a moment to breath calmly before standing in position in the group. As if his nose became useless, Junho breathed out of his mouth, drawing out harsh breathes as he bounced and moved. Droplets of sweat soon turned into streams as he sweat more than usual. He kept up the best he could, stepping off a tiny bit but he continued to dance.
“Are you okay?” Namyoung asked Junho once practice stopped.
“Fine hyung, I think I'm getting a cold.”
“Take a long bath when you get home, drink some lemon tea then go to bed.”
Junho nodded, gathering up his things and heading towards the shower. He shivered as the hot water hit his sore muscles. He stood under the streaming water, letting it pour over his body as he closed his eyes.
“Works better with soap,” Nichkhun chuckled, poking the smaller boy with a bottle.
“Mm, the water feels good.”
Junho shuddered, brushing it off as the cold air hit his still wet skin. He leaned against Wooyoung as they got into the van to drive back home. He felt sleep consume him for the short 15 minute drive, only to woken up by the older boy, “Come on Junho.”
He groaned, climbing out of the van and stumbling. Junho felt worse by the hour so he decided that medicine was his best option when he walked into the villa. Junsu passed by the bathroom, doing a double-take as he came back, “Not feeling good?”
Junho shook his head, shoving the spoonful of disgusting liquid into his mouth. His face twisted in displeasure as the medicine travelled down his throat, “Yuck.” He took Namyoung's advice, taking a hot bath, sipping on lemon tea then curling up under the covers. His coughing seemed to stop between that time and his throat pain went away.
Unfortunately the next morning, Junho felt like he had been hit by a truck. He barely moved, cringing from the pain in his muscles like he had overworked them. He knew that sometimes their practises made him sore but never like this. Junho slowly got up, shivering as his feet touched the chilly floor.
“Junho?” Chansung knocked on the small boy's door, “Are you getting up?”
“Yeah, I'll be out there in a minute,” Junho waved his hand.
The younger boy furrowed his brows, “Junho, are you feeling alright?” he asked, kneeling in front of the other boy.
“I still don't feel good.”
“It's probably a cold... You know when we get them, they get pretty bad,” he put his hand over Junho's, caressing them softly.
“Yeah... I'm sure I'll get over it soon.”
“Come on, I'll make you some soup before we leave.”
Taecyeon peeked over the maknae's shoulder, inhaling the scent of food, “Mm, is that for us?”
“Actually it's for Junho,” Chansung said, stirring the thick liquid.
“How sweet of you,” the older boy smirked.
“Okay! You guys are up!” the PD shouted, calling 2PM for their recording of their farewell stage.
Junho started to sweat, already feeling hot before he went under the stage lights. He fanned himself, feeling faint as he waited for the music to start. He took in deep breaths, exhaling suddenly as the beat hit his ears. The lights flashed in his eyes and he closed them to concentrate. He knew the dance well enough and he could do it with his eyes closed. Chansung's voice was in his ears before he opened his eyes and started to sing his own part.
His heart started to pound hard, flooding out the music is his ears. He timed everything by the dance as he could no longer hear. 'Ten more steps...' Junho thought, hearing his breaths, 'Seven more steps...' He jumped, skipping on his toes, “Three mor-”
Junho's vision blackened and he collapsed, falling onto his side of stage. Nichkhun tripped, trying not to step on the small boy on the floor, “Junho!”
The boys huddled around Junho before Minjae ran out onto the stage. Nichkhun picked up the small boy, with the help of Chansung and carried him backstage. “Junho! Junho!” Taecyeon tapped the younger boy's cheek, trying to bring him out of his unconsciousness.
“We need to get him to the hospital,” Minjae said, pulling out his phone.
“What's the matter with him?” Wooyoung asked, panic striking him hard.
“He said he wasn't feeling well earlier,” Junsu said, “He was taking medicine.”
Chansung felt his back suddenly hurt, pain shot through it, causing his body to twitch. He ignored his own pain as he worried about Junho. The whole group followed Junho to the hospital, standing outside the room as the doctor picked at him to find a diagnoses.
“It's just a cold, isn't it?” Taecyeon asked, pacing slowly, “Why are they taking so long?”
“You don't think it's-” Wooyoung paused, looking up at the other boys.
“Don't think it's what?” Junsu narrowed his eyes, “What could you possibly be thinking?”
The younger boy swallowed, suddenly feeling saliva gather in his throat. Nichkhun patted the small boy's back, “Don't worry, I'm sure Junho is fine. I'm sure we'll all making a bigger deal out of this...”
Chansung barely heard the voices of his hyungs as he kept his eyes on the door of Junho's room. He knew they were taking too long and when the doctor called Minjae into the room, it set all the boys on edge. It didn't help that they doctor closed the door and the two older men hid behind the curtain.
“Chansung-ah, get away from the door,” Junsu said softly, looking at the taller boy.
His shoulder blades started to itch and he reached his back to scratch. Chansung's arm started to tire just as Taecyeon pulled his hand away, “Stop! Jesus Chansung, you're bleeding.” He pulled on his shirt, trying to look at his back, feeling the blood against his skin.
“Are you two contracting with some disease?” Taecyeon asked. He rolled up the younger boy's shirt, hissing through his teeth, “How long have you been scratching at this? These marks are huge.”
“I don't know... My back hurt yesterday but... It was itchy just now.”
“What are you doing?” Minjae asked, stepping into the hallway.
“Chansung has really bad marks on his-” Taecyeon paused, “How is Junho?”
The manager sighed, “He's sick...”
“We know that hyung,” Wooyoung said.
“He has a throat illness... They say it's curable but it might come back.”
“Will it stop him from singing?” the manager looked at Chansung, “What I mean is, Junho doesn't feel complete without his voice... If he doesn't have it...”
“I know what you're getting at Chansung and we're not sure. For now, Junho needs time to rest. We're just lucky that you guys had your farewell stage. Try not to make him talk. They're sending him home with medication so make sure he takes it. He might be weak and tired all the time so you guys might have to take care of him on your time off.”
“We don't have a problem with that hyung,” Junsu said, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Can we see him?” Taecyeon swallowed.
“Yeah... Just don't act all depressed around him, you know how he is.”
The five boys walked into the room, each one pushing the other so not to be the first. Chansung was gifted with that position, seeing the heart stopping expression on Junho's face. The small boy tangled his finger in the sheets, keeping his attention there as the boys surrounded his bed. “Junho...” Chansung whispered, sliding his hand onto the bed.
“I'm going to be alright.”
'For now'
Everyone was thinking it but no one said it. “We know,” the maknae smiled, patting Junho's hand.
“Just a small sickness, nothing that's going to last.” Chansung watched as the small boy paid close attention to the bedsheet, “It's not permanent. It'll be cured and I'll be able to sing again. It won't effect me at all.”
“Junho, you'll be fine,” Junsu smiled, squeezing Junho's shoulder, “We'll make sure of that.”
“Yeah, we'll beat that cold out of you,” Taecyeon's lips twitched.
“I'll handle it,” Junho smiled, “Don't worry about me. I'll be fine.”
“Ugh, that can't be healthy!” Wooyoung shouted, getting hushed by Junsu as Junho coughed harshly in his room. “It sounds like he's coughing out a lung!” the younger boy hissed, “Isn't there anything else we can do?”
“We're doing all we can Wooyoung, the least we can do is treat it as a cold. We've given Junho his medication already,” Taecyeon sighed.
Nichkhun sighed, “It sounds like he's throat is being shredded up... It's curable but this sounds horrible.”
“We just have to wait it out,” Junsu rested his chin in his hand, “We have to pray for not only Junho's sake, but ours too.”
“What's that suppose to mean Junsu?” Taecyeon raised a brow.
“Hyung said it was curable but it might come back... What if it does? He won't be able to sing.”
“He can still dance,” Wooyoung said.
“And what, we'll be a group five man singing group with one backup dancer?”
“Shut up Junsu,” Taecyeon hissed, “We're not a group unless it's all six of us.”
“I know... That's what I'm saying... We have to pray for all of us.”
“Where's Chansung?” Nichkhun asked, looking around the room and suddenly noticing he was missing.
“Damn it,” Chansung hissed, staring at his back in the mirror, “It won't stop.” He started to feel sick to his stomach as the raw wounds on his back stared back at him. His fingers were covered in blood and skin was beneath his fingernails. The marks had started out as deep scratches on his shoulder blades but now they were growing into deep wounds and new skin wasn't growing over it. Despite the horrible gash, the itching never ceased and Chansung found himself digging at a new layer of skin. He contemplated tying his hands together but he knew he'd find a sharp edge to rub against.
He had dirtied three shirts, staining them in blood as his nails found the opened wounds. He riffled through the cupboard in the bathroom, pulling out a container of small bandaids and wraps, “I can't use this...” Chansung cleaned the wounds the best that he could before sliding his shirt on. He hissed, feeling the material scrape over his raw skin before shaking it out. “I'm going to the store,” he announced to the group, who were all sitting in the living room, huddled closely together.
“Chansung-ah, it's raining. Can't it wait?” Junsu asked, raising a brow.
“No, I need to go out now.”
He grabbed his coat, throwing the hood over his head as he stepped out into the rain. The cars that drove by him splashed the puddles at the side of the road, each one threaten to drench the tall boy. Chansung kept his head down, trying to avoid any eye contact with anyone; he wasn't in the mood to run into a fan. He grew hot from his coat and soon the rain started to seep through it. Chansung hissed, feeling the rain leak into his clothes and soak into his wounds. He felt them burn as if salt has just been thrown onto them and he pushed back into an alleyway, hoping for cover.
Chansung quickly threw his jacket off, wringing the water out of it before pulling his shirt off. He gasped, seeing the blood on his shirt more intense than before. The rain stung like acid on his skin as he clenched his teeth, groaning through them. His heart began to beat wildly and Chansung wondered how it was medically possible to still be alive.
He fell to his knees, not being able to take it anymore as his fingernails found his wounds and scratched at them viciously. “Ugh!” he growled, digging his fingers into his skin, no longer caring about how deep they went. His muscles tightened, sending his body into spasms as he clawed at his wounds. A pool of blood started to form around his knees, mixing with the water as the rain poured over him still. Chansung tensed as his fingers slid into the gaping wounds on his back. His spine started to crack, his bones moving on their own and forcing him to hunch over as pain suddenly exploded into his shoulder blades.
Chansung let out a let harsh scream as two bones pierced his back, protruding out and stretching. He fell to his hands and knees, not being able to take the pain as he choked over his breath. He grunted, arching his back as the bones continued to grow and pull at his insides. Chansung took in a huge breath of air, hearing a fluttering sound before the pain slowly diminished. His heart calmed down as he began to breath again and the blood around him was being washed away with the rain. He slowly got onto his knees, feeling no rain on his body despite it pouring around him. Chansung raised a brow before looking into the sky.
He gasped, holding onto his breath as his eyes caught crimson stained feathers shielding him from the rain. He reached up slowly, holding one between his fingers and rubbing it. The colour slowly faded away as it mixed with the water and dripped onto his face. “Blood?” Chansung slowly turned his head and his heart started to speed up again as he spotted the bones jutting out from his back. His hands gently followed the line of feathers, feeling the soft drenched texture before hissing slightly at the tender bone. His fingers trailed down to his back and he cringed, finding the bones protruding from the wounds. “Wings?”
Chansung almost laughed, not being able to catch himself before the word tumbled from his lips. There was no doubt in his mind that there were indeed two large bones poking out from his back with blood stained feathers attached to it. He stood up, wobbling a little and finding his wings to be a little heavier than he would've thought.
“H-how do I-” before he finished his sentence, the two bones folded up, bringing the wings closer together and making them smaller. “So I can't completely hide them...” Chansung grabbed his coat, cringing at the material now soaked with blood, “I have to get home... I guess I don't need anything at the store then...”
He stood outside the villa, holding the jacket over his head and back as he prayed that everyone had left the living room. If he was lucky, he would be able to quickly walk into the house unnoticed and make his way into the bathroom. As much as the ten seconds of praying would allow him, Chansung walked in, pausing as he saw Wooyoung sitting on the couch, still looking rather worried.
“You came back empty hand-” the small boy stood up, looking at Chansung, “Why are you covered in blood? What happened?!”
“What's the matter?” Taecyeon asked, coming out of the kitchen. His eyes grew wide as he looked at the soaked maknae.
Chansung took off his shoes with his feet, making sure not to move his jacket too much. He bit his lip, knowing that there was no way he was going to make it to the bathroom now.
“Chansung, answer me,” Wooyoung came close to him.
“I... I can't tell you.”
“Why not?! This is serious!”
Chansung panicked when he noticed Nichkhun come down the stairs. All his escape routes were now blocked and the only option he had now was to run back outside; an idea he wasn't too fond of.
“Who did you kill?” Nichkhun asked, bring the maknae out of his thoughts.
“N-no one.”
“Don't lie.”
“I'm not lying. Why would I lie? Why would I kill someone?”
“Then is it your blood? Where are you hurt?”
“I-I'm not hurt.”
“Stop lying!”
“I'm not lying!” Chansung shouted, his frustration growing. The jacket was suddenly ripped out of his hands as his wings expanded due to his anger. He held his breath, seeing little speckles of red on his hyungs faces as they stared at him in confusion.
“Would you guys keep it down!” Junsu hissed, coming out of Junho's room and gasping. “Is this a joke Chansung?”
“No.”
“Those can't be real,” the oldest boy said, coming down the stairs slowly, ignoring the red splatters all over the place. He slipped in a small puddle and he looked down at his blood soaked sock.
“Chansung-ah, how did you... When did you-,” Wooyoung blinked in confusion.
“Those marks on your back... Those were... Wings?” Taecyeon choked.
“I guess so... I-” Chansung suddenly shuddered, looking back to see Junsu caressing one of his wings.
“They're covered in blood...”
“They came out of my back.”
“They're quite soft.. Soaked, but soft.” The tall boy could see shock in Junsu's eyes but there was also a sense of admiration. The older boy ran his fingers down the feathers, “We should wash these... You're going to get blood all over the house.”
“Wait Junsu, don't you want to know why?”
“I don't know why,” Chansung sighed, “I don't know how... My back itched and then on my way to the store they just...”
“Did they just jump out of your back?”
“Something like that... It was.. Painful. I thought my spine was rearranging itself.”
“But they're real,” Wooyoung said, as if he couldn't believe it even though they were right in front of his eyes.
Chansung hissed and tensed when Junsu touched the bone, still feeling tender about the new growth. “We have to be careful, you're still sensitive.”
“Doesn't this weird you out at all Junsu?” Taecyeon raised a brow, “You're acting like this is something you expected to happen, like it's not out of the norm for you.”
Junsu sighed, “It's not like we have much of a choice Taecyeon. Chansung can't explain how it happened and these certainly aren't a joke... Maybe he's an angel sent down to make Junho better.”
“Have you lost your mind?”
“Come on Chansung, let's go clean these.”
Taecyeon stood stupefied as he watched Junsu and Chansung walk into the bathroom, “One of us risks losing his voice and another grows wings... What the hell is this?”
“We should clean...” Wooyoung stared at the floor, feeling confused and disoriented.
Chansung bit his lip, watching the older boy gently wipe the blood off the feathers. Junsu took careful consideration in cleaning the soft feathers, lightly clamping the towel over them. “Hyung...”
“What is it?”
“You're not weirded out?”
Junsu rubbed the feathers between his fingers, “I am... Don't get me wrong, I think this is fucking weird... And impossible... But like I said, what choice do we have but to accept it. You've got wings,” he paused, almost as if he didn't believe it, “You have them for a reason I'm sure...”
“So you think I'm some kind of angel?”
The older boy chuckled, “Well I wouldn't go that far... But I doubt, even in movies, that people just sprouts wings and that's it.”
“Maybe I'm supposed to be a tooth fairy,” Chansung made a serious face, causing the smaller boy to laugh loudly.
“I don't know Chansung,” Junsu sighed as he dried off the tall boy's wings, “Junho getting sick and you growing wings... It seems like a sign.”
“You catch on fast hyung... I just hope these are good wings.”
“Well you're wings are white right? That's good, isn't it?”
“I guess so...”
The older boy gnawed on his lip, looking at Chansung's back. The wounds were still fresh and it was obvious that the maknae was still human because they weren't healing at god-like speeds. “Taecyeon said you were scratching at your back.”
“Yeah, it's not itchy anymore though.”
“Well that's good... Your back will need time to heal...”
Chansung sat on the couch, sighing again as his hyungs sat on the floor, looking up at him like a disturbing piece of art.
“Can you put them away?” Nichkhun asked.
Before the word left Chansung's lips, his wings closed up, folding close to his body. 'So all I have to do is think... Out.' his mind instructed and his wings moved outwards. Chansung smiled, a bit impressed with himself.
“Chansung-ah, Junho wants to see you,” Junsu said, looking at his phone.
The maknae swallowed, “S-shouldn't he be sleeping?”
“Probably... But everyone else has gone to check up on him but you...”
“What about my wings?”
“You might as well tell him... Maybe it'll cheer him up.”
“Junho?” Chansung whispered as he entered the small boy's room. He heard Junho shuffle on the bed, sitting up slowly. “Are you feeling any better?” the older boy made an awkward face. “Junho... I have something to show you... But you have to promise not to freak out, okay?” Junho raised a brow before nodding.
He suddenly threw himself back against the wall as Chansung's wings spread out before him. His eyes went wide, scanning the feathery span. Junho moved forward slowly before looking at Chansung and reaching. The tall boy nodded and Junho touched his wing. A smile spread on the older boy's face as his shock grew into amazement. He lightly touched the feathers before caressing them with his face. Chansung smiled, watching the other boy like he was a five year old with his first pet. He tensed when Junho's fingers trailed down his bone, stopping at the new holes in his shirt. He smirked when the small boy made a face at his ruined shirt.
He inhaled Junho's scent as the older boy's chest brushed against his face when he continued to travelled across his wings. Without thinking, Chansung grabbed the smaller boy, wrapping his arms around his waist and hugging him tightly. Junho let out a hoarse yelp as the younger boy squeezed him. The small boy patted Chansung's head, sighing in defeat as he allowed the maknae to hold him.
“I'll make sure you keep your voice Junho, don't worry.”
Junho would've ignored the tall boy before, knowing that it was impossible but now with a set of wings on his back, Junho wasn't sure of anything. He wanted to ask Chansung a million questions but even with his voice, he knew the other boy didn't want to be bombarded with them.
The tall boy pulled away, smiling with worry in his eyes. He gently pushed Junho back onto the bed, “Lay down, you need your rest.” Junho inhaled, pouting childish. “I know you're probably sick of sleeping but think of it this way, when the rest of us are complaining about how we should've used our time off to sleep, you can laugh in our faces.” Junho pointed his throat, making a sour face. “Well other than the fact that you can barely eat and stuck on medication... Yeah, your body might be a little weak too.... Your voice will probably sound funny and your face will be all sunken in because you've lost weight.” Chansung laughed at the smaller boy punched his arm, “Okay okay, get some sleep now. Goodnight.”
“Well that was fast,” Chansung smiled, seeing Junho sitting at the kitchen table, eating with Junsu.
It was day four for Chansung and his wings and day five for Junho and his sickness. The maknae was slowly adjusting to his new form, taking it in day by day because he knew worrying about the future would only cause self harm. Wooyoung had already told him that if he had sprouted wings, he would've been tempted to cut them off. With that Chansung cringed, knowing how much it hurt when they expanded from his body. He didn't want to have to go through that again or the consequences of losing his wings. He decided to take them as a gift, still unsure about who they were from or why he had them.
Junho smiled at him, grabbing the meat with his chopstick, happy to eat real food again. Apparently the horrible feeling in his throat had calmed down but he still kept himself silence, other than the few groans or whines that his throat produced when he took his medicine. Taecyeon was surprised that they had given Junho liquid medicine despite his age but he figured it just worked better.
As days grew into weeks, Junho started to get better. He spent less days in bed and more time with his group. They went out a couple days, still being careful so that they would not upset Junho's illness. The whole group agreed on seeing the small boy smile was the best they could ever wish for. Finally it was time for Junho to visit the hospital again and the small boy came out with an even bigger smile. “I'm all healed!” he said, his voice raspy from not speaking for a week. The group laughed at him but came together in a group hug.
“Now that that's settled, we have another issue,” Minjae said, looking at Chansung. “We can't keep covering them up like this... You can't put them away fully which means at some point, people are going to see them.”
The group had gone through so many different scenarios and endings. Maybe Chansung would eventually lose his wings now that Junho was better or maybe they'd get smaller. No one really knew what to make of the white feathers other than the fact that they were now part of the youngest boy.
“We should get ice cream,” Wooyoung laughed, “Junho's throat needs a treat.”
Chansung blushed as his hyungs picked on him, poking fun at him about his sudden wing spans. They had encountered it more than once when the youngest boy would sneezed and send them off the couch or when he would get upset, his wings would suddenly fly out to full length. “I'm afraid to practise around you,” Taecyeon laughed, “You might whack me with those.”
Despite Junho commenting on how well he was feeling day after day and week after week, Chansung still constantly asked. The small boy's energy increased and soon he was started to beg their manager to practise. He wanted to keep his body in shape and the week the illness had him bedridden was wearing on his thoughts. “Take it one step at a time,” Minjae said, “Walk, run, climbing the stairs but keep it safe. You know you could get sick again... You can practise when everyone else starts again.”
“Yah!” Junsu shouted, tackling Junho to the floor, “You don't need to go out again!”
“What are you two doing?” Taecyeon asked, stepping out of the kitchen.
“He's going out again! This'll be the third time!” the oldest boy shouted, keeping his arms tight around Junho's waist.
“Hyung! I need to stay in shape!”
“Junho, I think running up and down six plights of stairs six times twice a day is enough... You're doing more than any of us.”
“You weren't sick.”
“Junho,” Chansung said, coming into the room, “That's enough. Please stop.” The tall boy rubbed his eyes, walking into the kitchen.
“You know... Chansung seems to be tired a lot lately... And he sleeps a lot,” Junsu laid against the small boy beneath him.
“He doesn't eat a lot either,” Junho frowned.
Chansung sat on his bed, eyeing the fruit sitting next to his hand. A week ago the food never would've made it passed his door because he would've devoured it but now it sat there and he thought of throwing up without it even in his stomach. Food was slowly starting to leave Chansung's mind as he pushed it back. He became tired more often, even after a full nights sleep. His body was growing more and more sore as his wings got in the way.
He stood in front of the bathroom mirror, pulling at the dark circles under his eyes. The slight flutter of his wing caught his attention and he narrowed his eyes. “Stupid wings,” Chansung growled. He pulled on the bone as it was no longer sensitive. He yanked on it, accidentally knocking things over in the bathroom, “You're nothing but a nuisance!” Chansung yelped when he accidentally plucked out a feather. His eyes scanned the white feather, throwing it to the floor. Something shiny caught his eye and he reached out, pulling back a pair of scissors.
He stared at the blades, feeling them with his fingers before looking back into the mirror. Chansung split the blades, bringing them to his back and the door opened, “Chansung! What are you doing?!” Junho rushed in, grabbing the scissors from the tall boy.
“I was just-”
“Just what?! Don't you dare cut off your wings!” he looked at Chansung, glaring intensely.
“Junho... They're making me feel weird.”
“So, that's life and you deal with it... If these weren't stick out and hiding in your insides, would you try to stab them out?”
“Maybe I would.”
Junho sighed, putting his hands on the tall boy's shoulders, “Don't be stupid, you know you wouldn't. These wings are obviously a gift Chansung, we're just not sure what for. I got better when you got them.”
The younger boy wrapped his arms around Junho's hips, pulling him close, “If my wings keep you healthy, then I'll keep them.”
The two boys left the bathroom, not noticing the feather that Chansung had pulled from his wing. It slowly turned black before turning into dust.
Chansung flopped back on his bed, rubbing his tired eyes as he waited to fall asleep. As tired as he was, he couldn't drift off into dreamland and he cursed.
“Winged humans should not curse,” a voice whispered, causing the tall boy to throw himself up.
“W-who's there?!”
“Hush human, I do not wish to wake the entire house. You should know that you made a very wise decision today.”
“Who are you? Where are you?” Chansung asked, looking around in the dark. He was afraid to move around the room so he kept himself safely on the bed.
“Who I am is no concern of yours, as well as where I am. I came to deliver a message to you.”
“A message? Wait how did you get in here?”
“Listen Hwang Chansung, those wings of yours are not for show, they hold meaning.”
“And what meaning is that? Do they heal people? Are they good wings? Am I some kind of angel?”
“You could say that,” the dark stranger said, not answering a specific question, “You have a mission Hwang Chansung, it is important that you do it.”
“What's my mission?”
“You must take someones life.”
“What?!”
“Hush,” the stranger hissed.
“How can you expect me to kill someone?” Chansung whispered harshly, leaning on his hands and knees.
“I did not say kill, I said take.”
“How do you...”
“I will be back with more information, until then, try to adjust to your wings, they will not be disappearing.”
Chansung felt his vision fade before he was knocked out. He woke up with a jolt, sitting upright too suddenly and becoming lightheaded. He looked around the room once his vision cleared, “What the hell was that?” Chansung got out of bed, rubbing his eyes and he made his way out of his room.
“Whoa Chansung, watch it!” Wooyoung dodged the tall boy's wing as it came at him.
“Sorry,” the maknae smiled, “I don't have enough room in my room to stretch out. Where's Junho?” he asked, noticing the small boy not in the living room.
“Don't know,” Wooyoung shrugged, “He hasn't come out of his room yet.”
Chansung pouted slightly, making the short trek to Junho's room just as the small boy stepped out. Junho coughed into his hand, hunching over slightly. “Junho?”
The older boy jumped, “O-oh Chansung-ah, you startled me.”
“Are you... Feeling alright?”
“Fine,” Junho smiled, “Just tired.”
Chansung smiled, still feeling like something was off. He kept his eye on the older boy, waiting for him to slip up. Junho yawned, sitting back against the couch and continuing to flip channels. Chansung sat at the dining room table, thinking about the the dark visitor had told him. 'There's no way I can do that.. He said take not kill... How is that even possible?' he sighed, sipping on his drink. 'How do you take a life without killing someone?'
Junho glanced at the tall boy, finding him deep in thought. He raised a brow, glaring at Chansung as he noticed a flash of crimson in the other boy's eyes. The tall boy's eyes suddenly flashed to his, making Junho tense. The feeling built up in his chest and he started to cough. It was normal at first until he started to have trouble breathing. Junho got up from the couch, bringing the maknae out of his daze as he watched the older boy walk into the bathroom, coughing violently, “Junho?”
Chansung got up, following the small boy and pressing his ear against the door. He heard Junho cough and gasp for air, making the younger boy worry.
Junho inhaled, trying to calm his breathing before leaning back against the wall and sliding to the floor. He gripped his chest, pressing down on it to force the air out. Once he calmed his heart, he crawled to the sink, grabbing a cup and filling it with water to rinse out the taste of blood in his mouth. “Junho?” Chansung asked from the other side, knocking on the door.
“B-be out in a minute,” Junho released a shuddered breath. He cursed as he noticed his shaky fingers, knowing that Chansung would catch sight of it. He crossed his arms over his chest, hiding his hands under his arms before stepping out of the bathroom, “Sorry, did you need the bathroom?” he smiled.
“No I just...”
“I'm sorry Chansung, I'm really tired. Can we talk later?”
“Uh sure...”
Junho gripped his throat, feeling like a fire was burning it's way up. His pillow was soaked with tears as he tried to ignore the pain but it was too much. He coughed, splattering drops of blood onto his pillow. He reached a shaky hand out to grab the bottle of medicine that sat on the night stand. Junho unscrewed the top and swallowed half the bottle, ignoring the taste as it added to the burn. He choked over the liquid, leaning over the bed to let it spill out of his mouth. As soon as he breathed in deeply, his door flew open and light flooded the room. Bile filled his throat again he continued to cough, “Junho!” Taecyeon shouted, running into the small boy's room, “Quick! Call an ambulance!” he shouted at Junsu.
Chansung gritted his teeth, clawing at his skin as the bones protruding from his back burned. Pain shot through his body and the pulse of his heart beat pounded in his ears, blocking out everything else. The sound of the other members running around to help Junho. The thumping of feet hitting the floor hard as they paced the hallways until the paramedics finally arrived to take the small boy away. Chansung arched his back, feeling his wings expand and the pain finally subsided. He panted, feeling blood stream down his back and pool at the top of his pants. He got up, reaching out for the doorknob with a blood soaked hand. Peeking out the door, he looked down the hall, not seeing anyone so he quickly made his way to the bathroom. His fingers clung to the edge of the sink as he faced it; his shirt tossed on the floor. The dark circles under his eyes had diminished but his irises were starting to grow a reddish ting. Chansung gasped, noticing a dark spot on his wing. He lightly touched the feather and it disintegrated, turning to ash and falling away.
“It will spread if you do not complete your mission.”
Chansung jumped at the tall shadowed figure behind him, “W-what happens when they all turn black?”
“You die.”
“What?! I don't want to die!”
“Then take a life.”
“How?!”
“You will figure it out. You should not wait too much longer, soon it will come easily to you. Do not let that moment slip.”
“Why?” Chansung turned, facing the dark figure, “Why me?”
The shadow shrugged, “You were chosen by the master, no one is told why.”
“Did you-”
“Yes, we all have. We usually do not sympathize with young ones but... I will with you only once.”
“Who am I supposed to kill?”
The figures eyes suddenly met Chansung's, filling the young boy with dread, “Someone dear.”
It was then that he realized that he was in the villa alone. He ran around the house, looking for a trace or hint as to where anyone went. Chansung fell back against the door, looking at the mess on Junho's floor, “Hospital... They have to be there.” He grabbed his phone, heading out the door and flagging down a cab. His phone screen flashing, signalling that he had a message.
At the hospital with Junho, come ASAP
The text was from Junsu, followed by three other texts telling him to get his ass to the hospital. He threw the cab driver money and ran into the building, throwing himself at the front desk, “Lee Junho!” he shouted, startling the girl behind the desk.
“Chansung!” Nichkhun called out, running to the tall boy, “Chansung, your wings...” he whispered.
“I don't care! Junho! How is he?”
The older boy sighed, looking down at the floor, “Chansung-ah... They said that...” Nichkhun tightened his fists, “They said that it's aggressive... That he might not-”
“No...” the maknae shook his head, “No, don't say it.”
“Chansung...”
“Don't!” the tall boy ran, his shoes squeaking against the floor as he raced into Junho's room. The small boy was hooked up to a machine, breathing calmly with it. “Junho,” Chansung whispered.
The small boy opened his eyes, “Chansung,” he said softly.
“Junho... What... What is this?” Chansung asked, walking slowly towards the bed.
“I-” the older boy gasped, “Chansung-ah, your wings... They're black.”
“Mm...”
“Why?”
“Junho, why are you here? They said you were better.”
“They said it might come back too.”
“But this... This isn't the same.”
Junho swallowed, tightening his fist in the sheets, “T-the truth is... I did get better but... I wasn't completely healed. They said that it was going to come back no matter what I did but they weren't sure when... How long I ha-”
“Then why did you push yourself?!”
“Chansung-ah... I couldn't just stop doing what I love... Chansung that's my life... What am I without it? My voice is one thing but if I can't even keep up my stamina to dance-”
“That doesn't matter! You don't need it! People would rather have you voiceless than not at all!”
Junho bit his lip, feeling tears sting his eyes, “Chansung-ah, how can you say that? You know how much music means to me.”
“Don't you realize how much you mean to me? I need you here.”
“Chansung... My life...”
“Is my life too.”
The group hung around the hospital, only leaving the smallest boy's room as family came to visit him. The room broke out in sobs as the doctors simply said, “I'm sorry, there's nothing more we can do.” With just those words, they all knew what to expect. The members sat in the chairs outside the room, some falling asleep while one would disappear every now and then to go to the bathroom. The doctors told them not to expect more than a few days, surprising everyone. Junho's illness had been suddenly brought on and now it was going to kill him only a month after. There wasn't enough time to tie up loose ends as Minjae took off to tell JYP and hadn't returned. The boys sat around, wondering how they could continue without Junho; nothing would be the same. “We can't...” Taecyeon said softly, “We just can't.”
With little said, they all understood what he meant and a little less than fifteen minutes later, they all decided to quit the group. Since their manager was no where to be found, the agreement was still left in whispers.
Chansung stood at the edge of the small boy's bed, standing in the room by himself when the family had left. His wings were growing more black by the hour as he stayed close to Junho.
“I am sure you have figured it out by now.”
“Does it always have to be a loved one?” Chansung whispered.
“No, it is just the first. Your wings, they will turn black near death. If you do not take life, it will take you.”
“Does it have to be him?” Chansung sniffled, feeling tears gather in his eyes.
“You do not have time to wait for another dear one.”
“Is it fate or cruel irony?”
“Must be fate,” Junho said hoarsely, smiling at the tall boy.
“Junho, you're awake,” Chansung whispered, standing next to the older boy's bed.
“Mm, can't sleep anymore... Afraid that I'll-” the small boy sighed, “I know what you have to do Chansung... I see him too.”
Chansung's eyes widened, “Wait Junho, it's not what you think. I'm not going to-”
“Please... Chansung please,” a tear rolled down Junho's face, “Please do it... I don't want to feel pain.”
“Junho I can't... Please don't ask this of me...” the tall boy sunk to his knees, holding Junho's hand in his own, “I can't do this...”
“Chansung-ah,” the older boy's breath quivered, “I'm dying Chansung... You're still healthy... You still have a chance. I don't.”
“No! That's not true!”
“It is and you know it,” Junho squeezed the tall boy's hand, “Please Chansung, let me go painlessly.”
“It won't be painless... I'll hurt so much and your family... And everyone else! I can't let you go!”
The small boy gasped, seeing Chansung's feathers grow darker, outlining the bones, “Please Chansung! I don't want you to die!”
“I-if I do this, I'll have to keep doing it! I don't want to! I don't want to take any lives!”
“Do you want to die?!”
“No!” Chansung cried, nudging the small boy's hand.
“Please,” Junho said softly, pulling the tall boy to his feet, “I'm going to leave this world... Consider it as a last request.”
The younger boy shook his head, feeling pain sting his back. He hissed, trying to ignore it but Junho could see it.
“I'm not going to let you die Chansung. Take my soul... Please take it before you die. Please!”
“J-Junho I-”
“You must take it Hwang Chansung, you are running out of time.”
“Chansung, it's okay.”
“No!”
“You will die.”
“No!”
“Chansung,” Junho whispered, pulling the tall boy close. Chansung wrapped his arms around the small boy, hugging him tightly, “Please take me to a better place. My throat... It's burning.”
The tall boy's tears streamed down his face, soaking into Junho's shirt, “Okay...” he whispered, “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry that I couldn't save you. Please forgive me. I love you Junho.”
“I love you Chansung... Please tell everyone that I said goodbye,” Junho whispered.
A bright light gleamed from the small boy and Chansung closed his eyes tight, suddenly feeling life fill him. He felt warmth throughout his whole body as Junho started to feel cold against him. The small boy's arms slowly started to fall away from him before the light disappeared. Chansung cried, holding Junho's lifeless body in his arms. His loud sobs caused the room to fill up and soon had the other 2PM members on their knees in tears.
“We have to keep going,” Chansung said, standing with his hands clutched at his front as he stood in a black suit, staring at the casket. Raindrops poured over his face as the other members surrounded him, saying their last goodbyes. “It would've been what Junho wanted.”
“It'll be hard,” Wooyoung said, wiping the tears from his eyes.
“We'll pull through, we have to... For Junho's sake,” Nichkhun bit his lip, letting the tears stream down his cheeks.
The boys stood in a circle, throwing their hands in the middle, “For Junho,” they all said together before throwing their hands in the air.
Chansung exhaled, standing at the end of a bed. “Are you ready?” he asked softly. With a small nod, he held the older woman's hand as she smiled at him.
“I'm so lucky,” she whispered, “To have such a handsome man greet me.”
His lips tightened into a smile as he slowly drained the life from the old woman, “We can all be lucky only once.”
He looked up into the sky, the sun shining brightly in his face. Chansung used to curse that hot ball for smiling at him in his darkest hour but now he just stared at it. “Junho, I hope you're doing much better now... Where ever you are. I love you.”
Genre: Drama
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Chansung/Junho
Summary: I really don't know what to put here without spoiling any of it... It's a wingfic, if you like my fics/chanho, then give it a shot. =_=;; sorry.
Author's Notes: WARNING: Character death. I said I would never write it... But I did... TT-TT
Disclaimer: I do not own 2PM or ... anything
Chansung stretched, groaning loudly as his limps pulled on his muscles. He rubbed his stomach before rolling out of bed. Junho passed by his door as he opened it, hearing the small boy cough harshly, “Are you okay?”
“Mm, fine, my throat hurts a bit,” Junho poked his throat, his voice sounding a little hoarse. “I'll just drink some lemon tea.”
Chansung let out an obnoxious yawn, causing Junsu to wave his hand around and lean back, “Yah! Cover your mouth!”
The maknae grinned at the smaller boy, “Aw, my breath doesn't smell bad hyung.”
“That's not the point,” Junsu narrowed his eyes.
“Okay! Get ready!” Namyoung shouted, waving his boys into position.
Sweat poured from Chansung's brow, streaming down his cheeks and dripping off his chin. Practise was tough that day and he couldn't remember the last time Namyoung had pushed them that hard. The slightly breeze he would feel when Taecyeon waved his arms was not enough but it kept him going. Their shoes squeaked against the floor as their feet slid. Nichkhun skipped against the floor, causing sharp squeaks and making the group stop.
“Okay, take a break,” Namyoung said.
Junho coughed, sounding worse than earlier. He covered his mouth, trying to hide away from the mirrors and the group, quieting his cough with his hand. He breathed in a shaky breath, trying to calm himself. His throat stung and Junho swore he could taste blood.
A blocked cough caught Chansung's attention as he turned to Junho. A towel was thrown in his face, distracting him as he pulled it away, “Wipe yourself off,” Taecyeon said, wiping off his own face. Chansung dabbed the towel over his drenched skin, stealing a glance at the smaller boy. Junho slid down to the floor with his hand pressed against his chest.
“Jun-”
“Water?” Wooyoung asked, handing the maknae a bottle.
“Sure, thanks...” Chansung took the cold beverage, still watching Junho.
“Alright, let's go!” Namyoung shouted, barely giving the boys time to relax.
Junho sighed, pushing off the floor and standing on wobbly legs. He took a moment to breath calmly before standing in position in the group. As if his nose became useless, Junho breathed out of his mouth, drawing out harsh breathes as he bounced and moved. Droplets of sweat soon turned into streams as he sweat more than usual. He kept up the best he could, stepping off a tiny bit but he continued to dance.
“Are you okay?” Namyoung asked Junho once practice stopped.
“Fine hyung, I think I'm getting a cold.”
“Take a long bath when you get home, drink some lemon tea then go to bed.”
Junho nodded, gathering up his things and heading towards the shower. He shivered as the hot water hit his sore muscles. He stood under the streaming water, letting it pour over his body as he closed his eyes.
“Works better with soap,” Nichkhun chuckled, poking the smaller boy with a bottle.
“Mm, the water feels good.”
Junho shuddered, brushing it off as the cold air hit his still wet skin. He leaned against Wooyoung as they got into the van to drive back home. He felt sleep consume him for the short 15 minute drive, only to woken up by the older boy, “Come on Junho.”
He groaned, climbing out of the van and stumbling. Junho felt worse by the hour so he decided that medicine was his best option when he walked into the villa. Junsu passed by the bathroom, doing a double-take as he came back, “Not feeling good?”
Junho shook his head, shoving the spoonful of disgusting liquid into his mouth. His face twisted in displeasure as the medicine travelled down his throat, “Yuck.” He took Namyoung's advice, taking a hot bath, sipping on lemon tea then curling up under the covers. His coughing seemed to stop between that time and his throat pain went away.
Unfortunately the next morning, Junho felt like he had been hit by a truck. He barely moved, cringing from the pain in his muscles like he had overworked them. He knew that sometimes their practises made him sore but never like this. Junho slowly got up, shivering as his feet touched the chilly floor.
“Junho?” Chansung knocked on the small boy's door, “Are you getting up?”
“Yeah, I'll be out there in a minute,” Junho waved his hand.
The younger boy furrowed his brows, “Junho, are you feeling alright?” he asked, kneeling in front of the other boy.
“I still don't feel good.”
“It's probably a cold... You know when we get them, they get pretty bad,” he put his hand over Junho's, caressing them softly.
“Yeah... I'm sure I'll get over it soon.”
“Come on, I'll make you some soup before we leave.”
Taecyeon peeked over the maknae's shoulder, inhaling the scent of food, “Mm, is that for us?”
“Actually it's for Junho,” Chansung said, stirring the thick liquid.
“How sweet of you,” the older boy smirked.
“Okay! You guys are up!” the PD shouted, calling 2PM for their recording of their farewell stage.
Junho started to sweat, already feeling hot before he went under the stage lights. He fanned himself, feeling faint as he waited for the music to start. He took in deep breaths, exhaling suddenly as the beat hit his ears. The lights flashed in his eyes and he closed them to concentrate. He knew the dance well enough and he could do it with his eyes closed. Chansung's voice was in his ears before he opened his eyes and started to sing his own part.
His heart started to pound hard, flooding out the music is his ears. He timed everything by the dance as he could no longer hear. 'Ten more steps...' Junho thought, hearing his breaths, 'Seven more steps...' He jumped, skipping on his toes, “Three mor-”
Junho's vision blackened and he collapsed, falling onto his side of stage. Nichkhun tripped, trying not to step on the small boy on the floor, “Junho!”
The boys huddled around Junho before Minjae ran out onto the stage. Nichkhun picked up the small boy, with the help of Chansung and carried him backstage. “Junho! Junho!” Taecyeon tapped the younger boy's cheek, trying to bring him out of his unconsciousness.
“We need to get him to the hospital,” Minjae said, pulling out his phone.
“What's the matter with him?” Wooyoung asked, panic striking him hard.
“He said he wasn't feeling well earlier,” Junsu said, “He was taking medicine.”
Chansung felt his back suddenly hurt, pain shot through it, causing his body to twitch. He ignored his own pain as he worried about Junho. The whole group followed Junho to the hospital, standing outside the room as the doctor picked at him to find a diagnoses.
“It's just a cold, isn't it?” Taecyeon asked, pacing slowly, “Why are they taking so long?”
“You don't think it's-” Wooyoung paused, looking up at the other boys.
“Don't think it's what?” Junsu narrowed his eyes, “What could you possibly be thinking?”
The younger boy swallowed, suddenly feeling saliva gather in his throat. Nichkhun patted the small boy's back, “Don't worry, I'm sure Junho is fine. I'm sure we'll all making a bigger deal out of this...”
Chansung barely heard the voices of his hyungs as he kept his eyes on the door of Junho's room. He knew they were taking too long and when the doctor called Minjae into the room, it set all the boys on edge. It didn't help that they doctor closed the door and the two older men hid behind the curtain.
“Chansung-ah, get away from the door,” Junsu said softly, looking at the taller boy.
His shoulder blades started to itch and he reached his back to scratch. Chansung's arm started to tire just as Taecyeon pulled his hand away, “Stop! Jesus Chansung, you're bleeding.” He pulled on his shirt, trying to look at his back, feeling the blood against his skin.
“Are you two contracting with some disease?” Taecyeon asked. He rolled up the younger boy's shirt, hissing through his teeth, “How long have you been scratching at this? These marks are huge.”
“I don't know... My back hurt yesterday but... It was itchy just now.”
“What are you doing?” Minjae asked, stepping into the hallway.
“Chansung has really bad marks on his-” Taecyeon paused, “How is Junho?”
The manager sighed, “He's sick...”
“We know that hyung,” Wooyoung said.
“He has a throat illness... They say it's curable but it might come back.”
“Will it stop him from singing?” the manager looked at Chansung, “What I mean is, Junho doesn't feel complete without his voice... If he doesn't have it...”
“I know what you're getting at Chansung and we're not sure. For now, Junho needs time to rest. We're just lucky that you guys had your farewell stage. Try not to make him talk. They're sending him home with medication so make sure he takes it. He might be weak and tired all the time so you guys might have to take care of him on your time off.”
“We don't have a problem with that hyung,” Junsu said, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Can we see him?” Taecyeon swallowed.
“Yeah... Just don't act all depressed around him, you know how he is.”
The five boys walked into the room, each one pushing the other so not to be the first. Chansung was gifted with that position, seeing the heart stopping expression on Junho's face. The small boy tangled his finger in the sheets, keeping his attention there as the boys surrounded his bed. “Junho...” Chansung whispered, sliding his hand onto the bed.
“I'm going to be alright.”
'For now'
Everyone was thinking it but no one said it. “We know,” the maknae smiled, patting Junho's hand.
“Just a small sickness, nothing that's going to last.” Chansung watched as the small boy paid close attention to the bedsheet, “It's not permanent. It'll be cured and I'll be able to sing again. It won't effect me at all.”
“Junho, you'll be fine,” Junsu smiled, squeezing Junho's shoulder, “We'll make sure of that.”
“Yeah, we'll beat that cold out of you,” Taecyeon's lips twitched.
“I'll handle it,” Junho smiled, “Don't worry about me. I'll be fine.”
“Ugh, that can't be healthy!” Wooyoung shouted, getting hushed by Junsu as Junho coughed harshly in his room. “It sounds like he's coughing out a lung!” the younger boy hissed, “Isn't there anything else we can do?”
“We're doing all we can Wooyoung, the least we can do is treat it as a cold. We've given Junho his medication already,” Taecyeon sighed.
Nichkhun sighed, “It sounds like he's throat is being shredded up... It's curable but this sounds horrible.”
“We just have to wait it out,” Junsu rested his chin in his hand, “We have to pray for not only Junho's sake, but ours too.”
“What's that suppose to mean Junsu?” Taecyeon raised a brow.
“Hyung said it was curable but it might come back... What if it does? He won't be able to sing.”
“He can still dance,” Wooyoung said.
“And what, we'll be a group five man singing group with one backup dancer?”
“Shut up Junsu,” Taecyeon hissed, “We're not a group unless it's all six of us.”
“I know... That's what I'm saying... We have to pray for all of us.”
“Where's Chansung?” Nichkhun asked, looking around the room and suddenly noticing he was missing.
“Damn it,” Chansung hissed, staring at his back in the mirror, “It won't stop.” He started to feel sick to his stomach as the raw wounds on his back stared back at him. His fingers were covered in blood and skin was beneath his fingernails. The marks had started out as deep scratches on his shoulder blades but now they were growing into deep wounds and new skin wasn't growing over it. Despite the horrible gash, the itching never ceased and Chansung found himself digging at a new layer of skin. He contemplated tying his hands together but he knew he'd find a sharp edge to rub against.
He had dirtied three shirts, staining them in blood as his nails found the opened wounds. He riffled through the cupboard in the bathroom, pulling out a container of small bandaids and wraps, “I can't use this...” Chansung cleaned the wounds the best that he could before sliding his shirt on. He hissed, feeling the material scrape over his raw skin before shaking it out. “I'm going to the store,” he announced to the group, who were all sitting in the living room, huddled closely together.
“Chansung-ah, it's raining. Can't it wait?” Junsu asked, raising a brow.
“No, I need to go out now.”
He grabbed his coat, throwing the hood over his head as he stepped out into the rain. The cars that drove by him splashed the puddles at the side of the road, each one threaten to drench the tall boy. Chansung kept his head down, trying to avoid any eye contact with anyone; he wasn't in the mood to run into a fan. He grew hot from his coat and soon the rain started to seep through it. Chansung hissed, feeling the rain leak into his clothes and soak into his wounds. He felt them burn as if salt has just been thrown onto them and he pushed back into an alleyway, hoping for cover.
Chansung quickly threw his jacket off, wringing the water out of it before pulling his shirt off. He gasped, seeing the blood on his shirt more intense than before. The rain stung like acid on his skin as he clenched his teeth, groaning through them. His heart began to beat wildly and Chansung wondered how it was medically possible to still be alive.
He fell to his knees, not being able to take it anymore as his fingernails found his wounds and scratched at them viciously. “Ugh!” he growled, digging his fingers into his skin, no longer caring about how deep they went. His muscles tightened, sending his body into spasms as he clawed at his wounds. A pool of blood started to form around his knees, mixing with the water as the rain poured over him still. Chansung tensed as his fingers slid into the gaping wounds on his back. His spine started to crack, his bones moving on their own and forcing him to hunch over as pain suddenly exploded into his shoulder blades.
Chansung let out a let harsh scream as two bones pierced his back, protruding out and stretching. He fell to his hands and knees, not being able to take the pain as he choked over his breath. He grunted, arching his back as the bones continued to grow and pull at his insides. Chansung took in a huge breath of air, hearing a fluttering sound before the pain slowly diminished. His heart calmed down as he began to breath again and the blood around him was being washed away with the rain. He slowly got onto his knees, feeling no rain on his body despite it pouring around him. Chansung raised a brow before looking into the sky.
He gasped, holding onto his breath as his eyes caught crimson stained feathers shielding him from the rain. He reached up slowly, holding one between his fingers and rubbing it. The colour slowly faded away as it mixed with the water and dripped onto his face. “Blood?” Chansung slowly turned his head and his heart started to speed up again as he spotted the bones jutting out from his back. His hands gently followed the line of feathers, feeling the soft drenched texture before hissing slightly at the tender bone. His fingers trailed down to his back and he cringed, finding the bones protruding from the wounds. “Wings?”
Chansung almost laughed, not being able to catch himself before the word tumbled from his lips. There was no doubt in his mind that there were indeed two large bones poking out from his back with blood stained feathers attached to it. He stood up, wobbling a little and finding his wings to be a little heavier than he would've thought.
“H-how do I-” before he finished his sentence, the two bones folded up, bringing the wings closer together and making them smaller. “So I can't completely hide them...” Chansung grabbed his coat, cringing at the material now soaked with blood, “I have to get home... I guess I don't need anything at the store then...”
He stood outside the villa, holding the jacket over his head and back as he prayed that everyone had left the living room. If he was lucky, he would be able to quickly walk into the house unnoticed and make his way into the bathroom. As much as the ten seconds of praying would allow him, Chansung walked in, pausing as he saw Wooyoung sitting on the couch, still looking rather worried.
“You came back empty hand-” the small boy stood up, looking at Chansung, “Why are you covered in blood? What happened?!”
“What's the matter?” Taecyeon asked, coming out of the kitchen. His eyes grew wide as he looked at the soaked maknae.
Chansung took off his shoes with his feet, making sure not to move his jacket too much. He bit his lip, knowing that there was no way he was going to make it to the bathroom now.
“Chansung, answer me,” Wooyoung came close to him.
“I... I can't tell you.”
“Why not?! This is serious!”
Chansung panicked when he noticed Nichkhun come down the stairs. All his escape routes were now blocked and the only option he had now was to run back outside; an idea he wasn't too fond of.
“Who did you kill?” Nichkhun asked, bring the maknae out of his thoughts.
“N-no one.”
“Don't lie.”
“I'm not lying. Why would I lie? Why would I kill someone?”
“Then is it your blood? Where are you hurt?”
“I-I'm not hurt.”
“Stop lying!”
“I'm not lying!” Chansung shouted, his frustration growing. The jacket was suddenly ripped out of his hands as his wings expanded due to his anger. He held his breath, seeing little speckles of red on his hyungs faces as they stared at him in confusion.
“Would you guys keep it down!” Junsu hissed, coming out of Junho's room and gasping. “Is this a joke Chansung?”
“No.”
“Those can't be real,” the oldest boy said, coming down the stairs slowly, ignoring the red splatters all over the place. He slipped in a small puddle and he looked down at his blood soaked sock.
“Chansung-ah, how did you... When did you-,” Wooyoung blinked in confusion.
“Those marks on your back... Those were... Wings?” Taecyeon choked.
“I guess so... I-” Chansung suddenly shuddered, looking back to see Junsu caressing one of his wings.
“They're covered in blood...”
“They came out of my back.”
“They're quite soft.. Soaked, but soft.” The tall boy could see shock in Junsu's eyes but there was also a sense of admiration. The older boy ran his fingers down the feathers, “We should wash these... You're going to get blood all over the house.”
“Wait Junsu, don't you want to know why?”
“I don't know why,” Chansung sighed, “I don't know how... My back itched and then on my way to the store they just...”
“Did they just jump out of your back?”
“Something like that... It was.. Painful. I thought my spine was rearranging itself.”
“But they're real,” Wooyoung said, as if he couldn't believe it even though they were right in front of his eyes.
Chansung hissed and tensed when Junsu touched the bone, still feeling tender about the new growth. “We have to be careful, you're still sensitive.”
“Doesn't this weird you out at all Junsu?” Taecyeon raised a brow, “You're acting like this is something you expected to happen, like it's not out of the norm for you.”
Junsu sighed, “It's not like we have much of a choice Taecyeon. Chansung can't explain how it happened and these certainly aren't a joke... Maybe he's an angel sent down to make Junho better.”
“Have you lost your mind?”
“Come on Chansung, let's go clean these.”
Taecyeon stood stupefied as he watched Junsu and Chansung walk into the bathroom, “One of us risks losing his voice and another grows wings... What the hell is this?”
“We should clean...” Wooyoung stared at the floor, feeling confused and disoriented.
Chansung bit his lip, watching the older boy gently wipe the blood off the feathers. Junsu took careful consideration in cleaning the soft feathers, lightly clamping the towel over them. “Hyung...”
“What is it?”
“You're not weirded out?”
Junsu rubbed the feathers between his fingers, “I am... Don't get me wrong, I think this is fucking weird... And impossible... But like I said, what choice do we have but to accept it. You've got wings,” he paused, almost as if he didn't believe it, “You have them for a reason I'm sure...”
“So you think I'm some kind of angel?”
The older boy chuckled, “Well I wouldn't go that far... But I doubt, even in movies, that people just sprouts wings and that's it.”
“Maybe I'm supposed to be a tooth fairy,” Chansung made a serious face, causing the smaller boy to laugh loudly.
“I don't know Chansung,” Junsu sighed as he dried off the tall boy's wings, “Junho getting sick and you growing wings... It seems like a sign.”
“You catch on fast hyung... I just hope these are good wings.”
“Well you're wings are white right? That's good, isn't it?”
“I guess so...”
The older boy gnawed on his lip, looking at Chansung's back. The wounds were still fresh and it was obvious that the maknae was still human because they weren't healing at god-like speeds. “Taecyeon said you were scratching at your back.”
“Yeah, it's not itchy anymore though.”
“Well that's good... Your back will need time to heal...”
Chansung sat on the couch, sighing again as his hyungs sat on the floor, looking up at him like a disturbing piece of art.
“Can you put them away?” Nichkhun asked.
Before the word left Chansung's lips, his wings closed up, folding close to his body. 'So all I have to do is think... Out.' his mind instructed and his wings moved outwards. Chansung smiled, a bit impressed with himself.
“Chansung-ah, Junho wants to see you,” Junsu said, looking at his phone.
The maknae swallowed, “S-shouldn't he be sleeping?”
“Probably... But everyone else has gone to check up on him but you...”
“What about my wings?”
“You might as well tell him... Maybe it'll cheer him up.”
“Junho?” Chansung whispered as he entered the small boy's room. He heard Junho shuffle on the bed, sitting up slowly. “Are you feeling any better?” the older boy made an awkward face. “Junho... I have something to show you... But you have to promise not to freak out, okay?” Junho raised a brow before nodding.
He suddenly threw himself back against the wall as Chansung's wings spread out before him. His eyes went wide, scanning the feathery span. Junho moved forward slowly before looking at Chansung and reaching. The tall boy nodded and Junho touched his wing. A smile spread on the older boy's face as his shock grew into amazement. He lightly touched the feathers before caressing them with his face. Chansung smiled, watching the other boy like he was a five year old with his first pet. He tensed when Junho's fingers trailed down his bone, stopping at the new holes in his shirt. He smirked when the small boy made a face at his ruined shirt.
He inhaled Junho's scent as the older boy's chest brushed against his face when he continued to travelled across his wings. Without thinking, Chansung grabbed the smaller boy, wrapping his arms around his waist and hugging him tightly. Junho let out a hoarse yelp as the younger boy squeezed him. The small boy patted Chansung's head, sighing in defeat as he allowed the maknae to hold him.
“I'll make sure you keep your voice Junho, don't worry.”
Junho would've ignored the tall boy before, knowing that it was impossible but now with a set of wings on his back, Junho wasn't sure of anything. He wanted to ask Chansung a million questions but even with his voice, he knew the other boy didn't want to be bombarded with them.
The tall boy pulled away, smiling with worry in his eyes. He gently pushed Junho back onto the bed, “Lay down, you need your rest.” Junho inhaled, pouting childish. “I know you're probably sick of sleeping but think of it this way, when the rest of us are complaining about how we should've used our time off to sleep, you can laugh in our faces.” Junho pointed his throat, making a sour face. “Well other than the fact that you can barely eat and stuck on medication... Yeah, your body might be a little weak too.... Your voice will probably sound funny and your face will be all sunken in because you've lost weight.” Chansung laughed at the smaller boy punched his arm, “Okay okay, get some sleep now. Goodnight.”
“Well that was fast,” Chansung smiled, seeing Junho sitting at the kitchen table, eating with Junsu.
It was day four for Chansung and his wings and day five for Junho and his sickness. The maknae was slowly adjusting to his new form, taking it in day by day because he knew worrying about the future would only cause self harm. Wooyoung had already told him that if he had sprouted wings, he would've been tempted to cut them off. With that Chansung cringed, knowing how much it hurt when they expanded from his body. He didn't want to have to go through that again or the consequences of losing his wings. He decided to take them as a gift, still unsure about who they were from or why he had them.
Junho smiled at him, grabbing the meat with his chopstick, happy to eat real food again. Apparently the horrible feeling in his throat had calmed down but he still kept himself silence, other than the few groans or whines that his throat produced when he took his medicine. Taecyeon was surprised that they had given Junho liquid medicine despite his age but he figured it just worked better.
As days grew into weeks, Junho started to get better. He spent less days in bed and more time with his group. They went out a couple days, still being careful so that they would not upset Junho's illness. The whole group agreed on seeing the small boy smile was the best they could ever wish for. Finally it was time for Junho to visit the hospital again and the small boy came out with an even bigger smile. “I'm all healed!” he said, his voice raspy from not speaking for a week. The group laughed at him but came together in a group hug.
“Now that that's settled, we have another issue,” Minjae said, looking at Chansung. “We can't keep covering them up like this... You can't put them away fully which means at some point, people are going to see them.”
The group had gone through so many different scenarios and endings. Maybe Chansung would eventually lose his wings now that Junho was better or maybe they'd get smaller. No one really knew what to make of the white feathers other than the fact that they were now part of the youngest boy.
“We should get ice cream,” Wooyoung laughed, “Junho's throat needs a treat.”
Chansung blushed as his hyungs picked on him, poking fun at him about his sudden wing spans. They had encountered it more than once when the youngest boy would sneezed and send them off the couch or when he would get upset, his wings would suddenly fly out to full length. “I'm afraid to practise around you,” Taecyeon laughed, “You might whack me with those.”
Despite Junho commenting on how well he was feeling day after day and week after week, Chansung still constantly asked. The small boy's energy increased and soon he was started to beg their manager to practise. He wanted to keep his body in shape and the week the illness had him bedridden was wearing on his thoughts. “Take it one step at a time,” Minjae said, “Walk, run, climbing the stairs but keep it safe. You know you could get sick again... You can practise when everyone else starts again.”
“Yah!” Junsu shouted, tackling Junho to the floor, “You don't need to go out again!”
“What are you two doing?” Taecyeon asked, stepping out of the kitchen.
“He's going out again! This'll be the third time!” the oldest boy shouted, keeping his arms tight around Junho's waist.
“Hyung! I need to stay in shape!”
“Junho, I think running up and down six plights of stairs six times twice a day is enough... You're doing more than any of us.”
“You weren't sick.”
“Junho,” Chansung said, coming into the room, “That's enough. Please stop.” The tall boy rubbed his eyes, walking into the kitchen.
“You know... Chansung seems to be tired a lot lately... And he sleeps a lot,” Junsu laid against the small boy beneath him.
“He doesn't eat a lot either,” Junho frowned.
Chansung sat on his bed, eyeing the fruit sitting next to his hand. A week ago the food never would've made it passed his door because he would've devoured it but now it sat there and he thought of throwing up without it even in his stomach. Food was slowly starting to leave Chansung's mind as he pushed it back. He became tired more often, even after a full nights sleep. His body was growing more and more sore as his wings got in the way.
He stood in front of the bathroom mirror, pulling at the dark circles under his eyes. The slight flutter of his wing caught his attention and he narrowed his eyes. “Stupid wings,” Chansung growled. He pulled on the bone as it was no longer sensitive. He yanked on it, accidentally knocking things over in the bathroom, “You're nothing but a nuisance!” Chansung yelped when he accidentally plucked out a feather. His eyes scanned the white feather, throwing it to the floor. Something shiny caught his eye and he reached out, pulling back a pair of scissors.
He stared at the blades, feeling them with his fingers before looking back into the mirror. Chansung split the blades, bringing them to his back and the door opened, “Chansung! What are you doing?!” Junho rushed in, grabbing the scissors from the tall boy.
“I was just-”
“Just what?! Don't you dare cut off your wings!” he looked at Chansung, glaring intensely.
“Junho... They're making me feel weird.”
“So, that's life and you deal with it... If these weren't stick out and hiding in your insides, would you try to stab them out?”
“Maybe I would.”
Junho sighed, putting his hands on the tall boy's shoulders, “Don't be stupid, you know you wouldn't. These wings are obviously a gift Chansung, we're just not sure what for. I got better when you got them.”
The younger boy wrapped his arms around Junho's hips, pulling him close, “If my wings keep you healthy, then I'll keep them.”
The two boys left the bathroom, not noticing the feather that Chansung had pulled from his wing. It slowly turned black before turning into dust.
Chansung flopped back on his bed, rubbing his tired eyes as he waited to fall asleep. As tired as he was, he couldn't drift off into dreamland and he cursed.
“Winged humans should not curse,” a voice whispered, causing the tall boy to throw himself up.
“W-who's there?!”
“Hush human, I do not wish to wake the entire house. You should know that you made a very wise decision today.”
“Who are you? Where are you?” Chansung asked, looking around in the dark. He was afraid to move around the room so he kept himself safely on the bed.
“Who I am is no concern of yours, as well as where I am. I came to deliver a message to you.”
“A message? Wait how did you get in here?”
“Listen Hwang Chansung, those wings of yours are not for show, they hold meaning.”
“And what meaning is that? Do they heal people? Are they good wings? Am I some kind of angel?”
“You could say that,” the dark stranger said, not answering a specific question, “You have a mission Hwang Chansung, it is important that you do it.”
“What's my mission?”
“You must take someones life.”
“What?!”
“Hush,” the stranger hissed.
“How can you expect me to kill someone?” Chansung whispered harshly, leaning on his hands and knees.
“I did not say kill, I said take.”
“How do you...”
“I will be back with more information, until then, try to adjust to your wings, they will not be disappearing.”
Chansung felt his vision fade before he was knocked out. He woke up with a jolt, sitting upright too suddenly and becoming lightheaded. He looked around the room once his vision cleared, “What the hell was that?” Chansung got out of bed, rubbing his eyes and he made his way out of his room.
“Whoa Chansung, watch it!” Wooyoung dodged the tall boy's wing as it came at him.
“Sorry,” the maknae smiled, “I don't have enough room in my room to stretch out. Where's Junho?” he asked, noticing the small boy not in the living room.
“Don't know,” Wooyoung shrugged, “He hasn't come out of his room yet.”
Chansung pouted slightly, making the short trek to Junho's room just as the small boy stepped out. Junho coughed into his hand, hunching over slightly. “Junho?”
The older boy jumped, “O-oh Chansung-ah, you startled me.”
“Are you... Feeling alright?”
“Fine,” Junho smiled, “Just tired.”
Chansung smiled, still feeling like something was off. He kept his eye on the older boy, waiting for him to slip up. Junho yawned, sitting back against the couch and continuing to flip channels. Chansung sat at the dining room table, thinking about the the dark visitor had told him. 'There's no way I can do that.. He said take not kill... How is that even possible?' he sighed, sipping on his drink. 'How do you take a life without killing someone?'
Junho glanced at the tall boy, finding him deep in thought. He raised a brow, glaring at Chansung as he noticed a flash of crimson in the other boy's eyes. The tall boy's eyes suddenly flashed to his, making Junho tense. The feeling built up in his chest and he started to cough. It was normal at first until he started to have trouble breathing. Junho got up from the couch, bringing the maknae out of his daze as he watched the older boy walk into the bathroom, coughing violently, “Junho?”
Chansung got up, following the small boy and pressing his ear against the door. He heard Junho cough and gasp for air, making the younger boy worry.
Junho inhaled, trying to calm his breathing before leaning back against the wall and sliding to the floor. He gripped his chest, pressing down on it to force the air out. Once he calmed his heart, he crawled to the sink, grabbing a cup and filling it with water to rinse out the taste of blood in his mouth. “Junho?” Chansung asked from the other side, knocking on the door.
“B-be out in a minute,” Junho released a shuddered breath. He cursed as he noticed his shaky fingers, knowing that Chansung would catch sight of it. He crossed his arms over his chest, hiding his hands under his arms before stepping out of the bathroom, “Sorry, did you need the bathroom?” he smiled.
“No I just...”
“I'm sorry Chansung, I'm really tired. Can we talk later?”
“Uh sure...”
Junho gripped his throat, feeling like a fire was burning it's way up. His pillow was soaked with tears as he tried to ignore the pain but it was too much. He coughed, splattering drops of blood onto his pillow. He reached a shaky hand out to grab the bottle of medicine that sat on the night stand. Junho unscrewed the top and swallowed half the bottle, ignoring the taste as it added to the burn. He choked over the liquid, leaning over the bed to let it spill out of his mouth. As soon as he breathed in deeply, his door flew open and light flooded the room. Bile filled his throat again he continued to cough, “Junho!” Taecyeon shouted, running into the small boy's room, “Quick! Call an ambulance!” he shouted at Junsu.
Chansung gritted his teeth, clawing at his skin as the bones protruding from his back burned. Pain shot through his body and the pulse of his heart beat pounded in his ears, blocking out everything else. The sound of the other members running around to help Junho. The thumping of feet hitting the floor hard as they paced the hallways until the paramedics finally arrived to take the small boy away. Chansung arched his back, feeling his wings expand and the pain finally subsided. He panted, feeling blood stream down his back and pool at the top of his pants. He got up, reaching out for the doorknob with a blood soaked hand. Peeking out the door, he looked down the hall, not seeing anyone so he quickly made his way to the bathroom. His fingers clung to the edge of the sink as he faced it; his shirt tossed on the floor. The dark circles under his eyes had diminished but his irises were starting to grow a reddish ting. Chansung gasped, noticing a dark spot on his wing. He lightly touched the feather and it disintegrated, turning to ash and falling away.
“It will spread if you do not complete your mission.”
Chansung jumped at the tall shadowed figure behind him, “W-what happens when they all turn black?”
“You die.”
“What?! I don't want to die!”
“Then take a life.”
“How?!”
“You will figure it out. You should not wait too much longer, soon it will come easily to you. Do not let that moment slip.”
“Why?” Chansung turned, facing the dark figure, “Why me?”
The shadow shrugged, “You were chosen by the master, no one is told why.”
“Did you-”
“Yes, we all have. We usually do not sympathize with young ones but... I will with you only once.”
“Who am I supposed to kill?”
The figures eyes suddenly met Chansung's, filling the young boy with dread, “Someone dear.”
It was then that he realized that he was in the villa alone. He ran around the house, looking for a trace or hint as to where anyone went. Chansung fell back against the door, looking at the mess on Junho's floor, “Hospital... They have to be there.” He grabbed his phone, heading out the door and flagging down a cab. His phone screen flashing, signalling that he had a message.
At the hospital with Junho, come ASAP
The text was from Junsu, followed by three other texts telling him to get his ass to the hospital. He threw the cab driver money and ran into the building, throwing himself at the front desk, “Lee Junho!” he shouted, startling the girl behind the desk.
“Chansung!” Nichkhun called out, running to the tall boy, “Chansung, your wings...” he whispered.
“I don't care! Junho! How is he?”
The older boy sighed, looking down at the floor, “Chansung-ah... They said that...” Nichkhun tightened his fists, “They said that it's aggressive... That he might not-”
“No...” the maknae shook his head, “No, don't say it.”
“Chansung...”
“Don't!” the tall boy ran, his shoes squeaking against the floor as he raced into Junho's room. The small boy was hooked up to a machine, breathing calmly with it. “Junho,” Chansung whispered.
The small boy opened his eyes, “Chansung,” he said softly.
“Junho... What... What is this?” Chansung asked, walking slowly towards the bed.
“I-” the older boy gasped, “Chansung-ah, your wings... They're black.”
“Mm...”
“Why?”
“Junho, why are you here? They said you were better.”
“They said it might come back too.”
“But this... This isn't the same.”
Junho swallowed, tightening his fist in the sheets, “T-the truth is... I did get better but... I wasn't completely healed. They said that it was going to come back no matter what I did but they weren't sure when... How long I ha-”
“Then why did you push yourself?!”
“Chansung-ah... I couldn't just stop doing what I love... Chansung that's my life... What am I without it? My voice is one thing but if I can't even keep up my stamina to dance-”
“That doesn't matter! You don't need it! People would rather have you voiceless than not at all!”
Junho bit his lip, feeling tears sting his eyes, “Chansung-ah, how can you say that? You know how much music means to me.”
“Don't you realize how much you mean to me? I need you here.”
“Chansung... My life...”
“Is my life too.”
The group hung around the hospital, only leaving the smallest boy's room as family came to visit him. The room broke out in sobs as the doctors simply said, “I'm sorry, there's nothing more we can do.” With just those words, they all knew what to expect. The members sat in the chairs outside the room, some falling asleep while one would disappear every now and then to go to the bathroom. The doctors told them not to expect more than a few days, surprising everyone. Junho's illness had been suddenly brought on and now it was going to kill him only a month after. There wasn't enough time to tie up loose ends as Minjae took off to tell JYP and hadn't returned. The boys sat around, wondering how they could continue without Junho; nothing would be the same. “We can't...” Taecyeon said softly, “We just can't.”
With little said, they all understood what he meant and a little less than fifteen minutes later, they all decided to quit the group. Since their manager was no where to be found, the agreement was still left in whispers.
Chansung stood at the edge of the small boy's bed, standing in the room by himself when the family had left. His wings were growing more black by the hour as he stayed close to Junho.
“I am sure you have figured it out by now.”
“Does it always have to be a loved one?” Chansung whispered.
“No, it is just the first. Your wings, they will turn black near death. If you do not take life, it will take you.”
“Does it have to be him?” Chansung sniffled, feeling tears gather in his eyes.
“You do not have time to wait for another dear one.”
“Is it fate or cruel irony?”
“Must be fate,” Junho said hoarsely, smiling at the tall boy.
“Junho, you're awake,” Chansung whispered, standing next to the older boy's bed.
“Mm, can't sleep anymore... Afraid that I'll-” the small boy sighed, “I know what you have to do Chansung... I see him too.”
Chansung's eyes widened, “Wait Junho, it's not what you think. I'm not going to-”
“Please... Chansung please,” a tear rolled down Junho's face, “Please do it... I don't want to feel pain.”
“Junho I can't... Please don't ask this of me...” the tall boy sunk to his knees, holding Junho's hand in his own, “I can't do this...”
“Chansung-ah,” the older boy's breath quivered, “I'm dying Chansung... You're still healthy... You still have a chance. I don't.”
“No! That's not true!”
“It is and you know it,” Junho squeezed the tall boy's hand, “Please Chansung, let me go painlessly.”
“It won't be painless... I'll hurt so much and your family... And everyone else! I can't let you go!”
The small boy gasped, seeing Chansung's feathers grow darker, outlining the bones, “Please Chansung! I don't want you to die!”
“I-if I do this, I'll have to keep doing it! I don't want to! I don't want to take any lives!”
“Do you want to die?!”
“No!” Chansung cried, nudging the small boy's hand.
“Please,” Junho said softly, pulling the tall boy to his feet, “I'm going to leave this world... Consider it as a last request.”
The younger boy shook his head, feeling pain sting his back. He hissed, trying to ignore it but Junho could see it.
“I'm not going to let you die Chansung. Take my soul... Please take it before you die. Please!”
“J-Junho I-”
“You must take it Hwang Chansung, you are running out of time.”
“Chansung, it's okay.”
“No!”
“You will die.”
“No!”
“Chansung,” Junho whispered, pulling the tall boy close. Chansung wrapped his arms around the small boy, hugging him tightly, “Please take me to a better place. My throat... It's burning.”
The tall boy's tears streamed down his face, soaking into Junho's shirt, “Okay...” he whispered, “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry that I couldn't save you. Please forgive me. I love you Junho.”
“I love you Chansung... Please tell everyone that I said goodbye,” Junho whispered.
A bright light gleamed from the small boy and Chansung closed his eyes tight, suddenly feeling life fill him. He felt warmth throughout his whole body as Junho started to feel cold against him. The small boy's arms slowly started to fall away from him before the light disappeared. Chansung cried, holding Junho's lifeless body in his arms. His loud sobs caused the room to fill up and soon had the other 2PM members on their knees in tears.
“We have to keep going,” Chansung said, standing with his hands clutched at his front as he stood in a black suit, staring at the casket. Raindrops poured over his face as the other members surrounded him, saying their last goodbyes. “It would've been what Junho wanted.”
“It'll be hard,” Wooyoung said, wiping the tears from his eyes.
“We'll pull through, we have to... For Junho's sake,” Nichkhun bit his lip, letting the tears stream down his cheeks.
The boys stood in a circle, throwing their hands in the middle, “For Junho,” they all said together before throwing their hands in the air.
Chansung exhaled, standing at the end of a bed. “Are you ready?” he asked softly. With a small nod, he held the older woman's hand as she smiled at him.
“I'm so lucky,” she whispered, “To have such a handsome man greet me.”
His lips tightened into a smile as he slowly drained the life from the old woman, “We can all be lucky only once.”
He looked up into the sky, the sun shining brightly in his face. Chansung used to curse that hot ball for smiling at him in his darkest hour but now he just stared at it. “Junho, I hope you're doing much better now... Where ever you are. I love you.”