[prompt #43] trapped with you (2/2)
( part one)
Back in the trailer, JB had taken to pacing up and down while the youngest three were off doing some scenes. He had also taken to locking his jaw every time he took an anxious glance at the clock. The two 94-liner’s had been gone for almost three hours. Three!
Mark watched the anxiety in JB rise every minute that went by. In the first hour or two since Jinyoung and Jackson had left, the rest were not as concerned because they had dared to hope that the two would reconcile. Once the second hour mark was breached, the oldest hyungs began to feel unsettled.
Mark cleared his throat slightly to get JB’s attention. JB looked over though he didn’t stop pacing.
“Should we go look for them?” asked Mark who had already half made up his mind to do so.
JB sighed as his steps halted. “I don’t know. They could be in the midst of reaching an understanding so any interruption might be counterproductive. I did say not to come back until they settled things…” JB’s voice trailed off as he resumed his restless pacing. “But then again…”
Mark chewed lightly on his lower lip. Something in his gut just wasn’t settled. Was it instinct? Was it over-worrying? Which was it?
“How about we at least try to see them, maybe from a distance? To make sure they’re okay?” Mark suggested.
JB needed only a moment of contemplation before he agreed to Mark’s idea partly because he had actually wanted to start searching quite a while ago but had hung back, thinking he should be patient, that he should trust the two members to work things out. Still, he had wanted to, felt the need to do so. All he needed was for Mark to broach the idea and that opened a channel for him to act.
“Let’s go,” said JB to Mark, both of them grabbing their winter coats and setting off after hurried excuses to the staff. They didn’t get very far before they had to turn backto grab torchlights.They hadn’t realised how dark it was outside as they had been in their lit trailer the whole time. When Mark took hold of a heavy duty torch after rummaging for a bit in one of the many storage boxes, he spotted Jackson’s fur lined hooded winter jacket lying innocently next to Jinyoung’s fern green one. The sight of the two coats without their owners set off warning bells in his head. Heart pounding, Mark no longer needed his gut to tell him that something was wrong - he felt it in every bone of his body. Without a word, he grabbed the two heavy coats with him and when he shoved Jinyoung’s coat into JB’s arms, their eyes made contact for an instant - an instant that was enough to cause their hearts to plunge. Neither JB nor Mark said anything to each other but there was an added urgency in their pace. It was dark and dreadfully cold. All they could do was pray that the ominous gloom that was encroaching on their souls was misguided.
After rushing through a couple of the nearest warehouses and realising how huge the abandoned lot actually was, it dawned on JB and Mark that this task was beyond them. Even though involving everyone in the search would probably mean the media finding out and news spreading like wildfire, there was no other alternative. If it meant finding Jackson and Jinyoung faster, it was worth risking everything. After rushing back to the main base in haste, search parties were organised and ambulances summoned. They were all preparing for the worst but hoped against hope that the worst would not become reality.
The boys themselves were part of the various groups combing through the various warehouses as quickly as they could. None of them could bear staying behind and not doing everything physically possible to find their missing members. None of them said it, not aloud, but each felt a tightening knot of fear in their throats as every minute passed without news.
JB and Mark were part of the same group, a group that was heading towards the northwest corner of the vicinity.
“Jackson!” called Mark, cupping one hand to his mouth as he yelled at the top of his lungs, not caring that the cold was making his lips crack and bleed as he took every effort to make his voice heard.
“Jinyoung!” JB yelled, his loud voice amplified by fear in the darkness.
The two oldest members scrambled over the grounds with at least three other people. While their targets were the scattered buildings, sheds, storage units scattered on the lot, they could not risk overlooking the paths that wandered off in between, probably leading to even more places to search. Each path or gap they shot past tugged at JB’s chaotic mind. The fear of leaving just one path unsearched, one stone unturned, the fear of running not finding Jackson and Jinyoung because they took the wrong turn, headed in the wrong direction or worse, ran right by them without noticing made JB blanche. But no, there was a plan. The plan was for each team to head in one direction and then fan out, to cover the corners first and work inwards. Stick to the plan, JB’s logical-self said, stick to the plan. Gritting his teeth, he bounded ahead of the group, not caring whether his feet ran on snow, ice or gravel, he just needed to keep moving - and Mark, propelled by fear, was right behind their leader.
They reached three warehouses, all in a row, and the group dashed into the first. They checked the vast space, behind walls, under staircases, the banisters, everything. Once in a while, something would gleam back at them or they saw shapes at the edges of their torchlights. But always, always, it was a broken piece of glass or an empty sack.
Nothing in the first.
The group did the same with the second one. The same procedure. Two would bound up the stairs while three search the ground floor. And the same false alarms.
Nothing in the second.
It was the third one next and because JB and Mark happened to be the first ones to rush through the gaping entrance, they took the ground floor, torches shining into the corners. Nothing there. Nothing. Instinct told JB that the two would have wanted to get as far from the base as possible. And by far, that would mean the further most buildings on the lot, most probably the ones right in the corners. The problem was - which corner? JB let out a howl of frustration, and was about to turn on his heels to run out of the building in order to get to the next target when he felt a restraining grip on his arm.
“Wha-” but then JB saw what Mark was pointing at with his torch. It was a heavy metal door. They had almost missed it because it barely stood out from the grimy walls darkened with years of filth and dust.
“Maybe-” Mark gasped, breathing hard, but he didn’t bother finishing his sentence because JB caught on. They had to check.
Running to it, JB gripped the latch and yanked. When it didn’t give way, he slammed his shoulder into it to push. His face scrunched up in the force he exerted, his feet scuffling for purchase on the dusty cement floor. Mark also threw his weight at the door, clenching his teeth. There was no rhyme or reason why they were trying so hard but instinct gnawed at them. Instinct said not to ignore this door. With a loud metallic creak, the door finally inched open.
“Jackson! Jinyoung!” cried Mark, the first to stumble inside. His cries went unanswered, just like in the two previous warehouses. But he swept his torch along the floor, tracing the corners of the room as his mind tried to make sense of illuminated shapes and shadows.
Then he saw it.
Legs.
Pairs of legs.
JB and Mark lurched forwards. “HERE!” cried JB, calling the rest of the group. The group would inform the others. They’d get the medics to come. They’d handle that part. They had to. Because right then, all Mark and JB’s cared about was the huddled shape on the cold ground. Torches in one hand, they shook the two younger ones, calling their names, pleading them to answer, to respond, to show some sign of life.
But there was none.
With one hand, Mark had wrenched Jackson’s arms away from Jinyoung’s body. “Jackson?” Mark asked, his voice hallow, hesitant. Scared. Jackson’s eyes were closed, his dark eyelashes resting against his cheeks. Jackson would have looked like he was sleeping if not for the discolouration on his lips and skin. Seeing the usually plush pink lips an abnormal shade of blue made Mark’s heart constrict as if crushed mercilessly by cruel unfeeling fingers. They couldn’t be too late, it can’t be too late. Mark grasped the collar of Jackson’s leather jacket, shaking it almost in fury before gripping the side of Jackson’s neck. “Jackson! Answer me!” Mark demanded but Jackson didn’t respond. Not a twitch of his lips or the flicker of an eye. None of the usual mirth or laughter. None of his spark. “You can’t d-” but Mark couldn’t bring himself to say the word, the one word that at that instant embodied his worst nightmare. “Damn it, Kaka. You can’t. I’ll never forgive you,” Mark threatened, his voice shaking but his eyes intense and livid as he fought off the various hands that finally managed to wrench him away from Jackson’s side. “I’ll never forgive you!” screamed Mark, his eyes fixed on the boy lying on the ground, a boy whose face was peaceful, oblivious to Mark’s terror. Others had come running, metallic sheets in their hands, blankets a plenty. Finally, the medics came and without wasting anymore time, bundled the frozen boys unto stretchers and set off, JB and Mark following in their wake.
After a fierce and desperate argument between the boys and the medics, JB climbed into the ambulance that Jinyoung had been wheeled into while Mark was in Jackson’s. They had utterly refused to leave the two, wanting to just see them. To just keep them visible. It was irrational, they knew, but who cared about logic when their emotions and adrenaline were all that carried them. After promising fervently that they would not hinder or impede the medic team, the attendants had conceded. It was more urgent to get them treated.
The ride to the nearest hospital seemed to take forever for Mark. Squeezed into a corner of the moving vehicle, his eyes were in a permanent state of shock, his lips set in a grim line as his vision was filled with a flurry of hands and tubes and gadgets pulled out from hidden storage compartments. The barked orders and instructions were a gibberish of numbers and names more complicated than anything he had ever studied in Chemistry. But he listened, he listened because he wanted to know how Jackson was doing. Back when he found Jackson and Jinyoung lying on the ground, it hadn’t occurred to him to check if Jackson was breathing or had a pulse.
“His vitals are weak,” Mark heard one attendant tell the other, making brief but telling eye contact.
Mark’s body jerked to attention. That phrase he understood. That phrase he knew boded ill. That phrase was not what he wanted to hear right then. And weak? Jackson was never weak! Jackson was a gold medallist who fought through close battles with confident steps and swipes of his sabre. Worked to the bone with barely ten hours of sleep for days and Jackson could still put on a smile for the camera. Weak? Jackson? Never. Mark refused to accept it.
“JACKSON!” roared Mark, startling the attendants. Springing up from his seat, Mark made his way to the stretcher, not caring that one of the attendants was trying to wrestle him away. “You are NOT weak, you hear me?! You WILL survive this! I swear, if you don’t give it your all, I’ll kick your ass into the next century!”
“Sir, SIR!” yelled the attendant, finally gaining an upper hand when Mark stopped to inhale after shouting. “Sit down, sir. You swore not to interfere.”
Mark was breathing hard but the attendant’s words reminded Mark to regain some form of self-control and so he sat down again. Besides, Mark wanted the attendant to do his job, to attend to Jackson, to save one of the people he held closest to his heart in this world.
At the hospital, however, Mark was prevented from entering the emergency ward. With a last cry of “You fight this, Jackson!” the nurses pulled the curtains firmly close. Mark stood rooted to the spot, helpless, lost. Unsure of what to do. People walked past him, sometimes with grumbles that he was in the way but Mark paid them no heed. His eyes were just fixed on the shadowy outlines behind the curtains, shadows that were working on Jackson. It wasn’t until he felt gentle hands grip his shoulders that he turned to see that Yugyeom was standing next to him. Gently, the youngest of the group pulled Mark towards the others who had gathered at nearby chairs; their manager, more a doting but strict older brother than a manager really, Youngjae, Bambam and JB. The sight was incomplete and though only two were missing, it was too evident. The gaps were too painful.
As Mark sat down, partially pushed by Yugyeom, he realised that JB was sitting next to him. It was then he noticed the naked fear in JB’s eyes and his leader’s facewas stained by trails of tears that had frozen on its path down his cheeks. Without thinking, Mark raised his hand that was still wrapped in warm gloves to trace those tears.
“Don’t cry,” Mark murmured.
JB’s attempt at a smirk became a grimace. “You too,” JB replied, raising his own hand to trace Mark’s own tears.
“They’re strong,” said Youngjae, his voice rough because he was simultaneously trying to be positive but found it extremely hard not to succumb to tears. “Jackson hyung and Jinyoung hyung are strong,” he said, repeating it to himself over and over again as if it were a mantra that if repeated enough, would come true. The others either nodded or grunted in reply.
Then, after what seemed like ages, a doctor approached them. Mark and JB got to their feet, bodies tensed as they watched the man come closer, his face giving away nothing.
“Friends of Jackson Wang and Park Jinyoung?” asked the doctor.
More than friends, thought the guys but did not protest while their manager nodded. They just wanted to know.
“They’re stable,”the doctor told them. At this, there was a collective sigh of sheer relief. He continued, “They have to admitted though. We’ll only find out the extent of any possible damage when they wake. They were exposed to the cold for too long to be sure.”
“Thank you, Dr. Thank you,” said the manager while the boys echoed the words. Smiling, the doctor walked away, leaving a nurse to go through some paperwork with the manager while, without a word or sign, the five boys threw their arms around each other, huddling together as tight as possible. It didn’t seem that any of them were breathing. It was as if they were afraid to speak, to say anything, just in case an enchantment was broken, hardly daring to belief that after the horrid hours, everything was going to be alright. Jackson and Jinyoung weren’t taken from them. Jackson and Jinyoung were still with them. They’d be able to hear Jackson’s hyena laugh echoing in their dorm, they’d be able to hear Jinyoung complaining when the group made too much noise, they’d be able to hear the two friends bickering, they’d be able to still call themselves Got7 in the truest sense of their name.
Youngjae’s breath hitched as he stifled a sob. Yugyeom was next, screwing his face and eyes tight to stop the tears. Then it was Mark who gave in and cried which opened the floodgates. The five boys bawled right there in open view along the brightly lid hospital hallway.
* * *
Jinyoung was fast asleep. Until, that is, the guy sleeping on the one and only other bed in the room decided to climb under his covers.
“Umf,” protested Jinyoung in a grunt, grumpy that his sleep was being disturbed.
“Ssh,” came Jackson’s hoarse whisper as Jinyoung felt the other bury his face in the space between his neck and his shoulder. An arm came to rest on Jinyoung’s chest, palm placed above where his heat beat steadily under his ribcage.
“You have your own bed,” grumbled Jinyoung, not bothering to open his eyes or do anything to reject Jackson treating him as if he were a bolster.
“I just wanted to feel your heart beating,” replied Jackson in a hushed voice as if keeping as quiet as possible would lull Jinyoung back to sleep.
At this, Jinyoung could not resist but opened his eyes to glare at Jackson, shifting his upper body a little so that Jackson’s questioning eyes met his. “There’s a freaking machine that beeps to tell you that, idiot.”
“Tsk,” clucked Jackson dismissively before snuggling against Jinyoung. “You weren’t listening to what I said. I said I wanted to feel your heart beating, not hear it.”
Jinyoung snorted softly in reply. “You got me there,” he admitted, smiling as he closed his eyes and burrowed his head into the pillow. Hoping that sleep would take him again, he sighed. Then something occurred to him. “Why?” he asked Jackson out of curiosity.
“Because there was a time, a moment when I couldn’t,” answered Jackson, his voice bereft of any sign that he was joking. “And it scared me… more than you know.” There had been an instant in the warehouse when Jackson had no longer been able to feel Jinyoung’s heartbeat. They had tried very hard not to fall asleep, not to give in to their bodies’ desire to shut down. They had taken turns to recite lines of their songs in an effort to keep awake but suddenly Jinyoung wasn’t replying and no matter how much Jackson pleaded with him to wake up, Jinyoung just didn’t. That was a memory that would haunt him for life, Jackson was sure of it.
Jinyoung didn’t really know how to reply. The experience was still too raw. Instead of words, Jinyoung slipped an arm under Jackson’s neck so that Jackson was nestled more comfortably against him on the bed and settled his other hand on Jackson’s, squeezing it to reassure his friend that he was all there, breathing and alive. In response, Jackson pressed his hand more firmly against Jinyoung’s chest, taking comfort in the gentle rhythmic thud of Jinyoung’s heart.
And that was the position in which the rest of their members found them the next morning.
“Ewww,” moaned Bambam teasingly which woke the two on the bed. Forcing open their sleepy eyes at the group, Jackson and Jinyoung recognised who they were but the two friends promptly chose to ignore the others, snuggling even closer together as they tightened their embrace.
“Live with it,” Jackson commented to the rest in a huff, his voice heavy with sleep.
Jinyoung hummed in agreement. “For the rest of your lives,” he added for good measure, nuzzling his chin against Jackson’s hair.
JB and Mark shared a meaningful glance at each other.
"Gladly," replied JB.