+ Old Memories And Young Hopes [2PM]
Title: Old Memories And Young Hopes
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Chansung, OT7. (Minor Chansung/Junho.)
Word Count: ~2700
Notes: One-shot. Also, a huge and resounding thank you to my amazing beta, biases. She's FRESHHHH.
Summary: Chansung starts losing his memories so gradually he doesn't even realise it's happening.
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Chansung starts losing his memories so gradually he doesn't even realise it's happening.
He forgets what day it is, what month it is, what year it is, but that's okay, that happens to everyone, and it always comes back eventually. He forgets Kwon's name once, really forgets it, which is much less forgivable, but then Changmin accidentally calls Seulong Taecyeon, which makes everyone move on from Chansung's mistake. He forgets the words to 10 Out Of 10, but they haven't performed it in a while, so that's easily explained away, too.
It's when he can't remember the simple things, the important things, like where to buy bananas, or how to cook ramen, or what popcorn is, that he suspects something isn't right.
+
"I think I have a problem," he says to Wooyoung. They're supposed to be rehearsing, but no-one's ended the break yet, so they're all piled on the floor on top of each other like kittens in a pet store, not caring who or what they trample on. Chansung has his head on Wooyoung's stomach, one leg across Junsu's, the other splayed over Junho's chest.
"I know you do," Wooyoung murmurs, not even looking up.
Chansung tilts his head back, digging it into Wooyoung's abs. "I mean it."
"So do I," he says, but he brings his arm down to drape around Chansung's collarbone, pulling him closer. "Go on, then."
Chansung frowns, suddenly unsure. Maybe he's just overreacting. Maybe he's tired. Well, he's always tired, but maybe he's just... extra-tired. It's not that big a deal, is it? It's just memory loss.
"Stop thinking so hard and just tell me."
Chansung squeezes his eyes shut. "I'm forgetting things."
There's a long pause, in which Chansung wonders if saying anything was right, if anyone will believe him, if he should've just kept it to himself, before Wooyoung nudges him.
"Yah, you're joking, right?"
But he sounds uncertain, not dismissive, and Chansung shakes his head. "The other day I couldn't remember how to use the shower."
"Probably because you don't use it enough," Wooyoung blurts, before adding, sounding frustrated with himself, "sorry, sorry. I just... What happened?"
"It was my turn, but I didn't know what to do, so I let Taecyeon-hyung go first and watched him turn it on."
There's a pause as Wooyoung digests this. "Yah, Chansung-ah. Have you been staying up late again?" He levers himself up and Chansung can feel his gaze on his face. "Look at me, maknae."
Chansung does. "I'm sure it's fine," he blurts out.
The concerned look Wooyoung gives him makes him regret saying anything.
+
Everything runs smoothly for a few days, and Chansung can feel Wooyoung finally start to relax, but then he wants to play his video game and finds himself staring at the TV for way too long, unable to figure out how to turn it on.
He keeps on staring until Junsu comes in and throws himself on the couch, rubbing his neck where he pulled it in rehearsal, before picking up the remote and pressing standby.
Chansung starts as the TV bursts into life and Junsu frowns, throwing a cushion at him.
"Yah, move out of the way, I can't see."
Chansung shifts automatically, not reacting as the pillow smacks him in the face. He looks up to see Wooyoung watching from the doorway, his mouth pressed into a hard line. Chansung tries for a grin, but can only manage a grimace.
+
"There's a problem," Wooyoung announces at dinner the next night. Chansung jerks his head up and shakes it frantically, trying to tell Wooyoung no, not here, not now, at least let me finish my pizza, but he is ignored. "Chansung is forgetting things."
Everything is quiet before Taecyeon laughs, easing the tension slightly and punching Chansung on the arm. "Maybe how to eat slowly," he jokes and goes back to his food, but the others look to Wooyoung.
"Are you serious, Wooyoung-ah?" Khun asks, and he nods. All eyes then turn to Chansung, who keeps his own gaze on his plate.
"Chansungie?" Junho prompts.
"I'm sure it's nothing," he assures them, hating to be the cause of all this trouble. Their pizza is getting cold.
"It's not," Wooyoung says bluntly. "He didn't know what a mango was this morning."
It's an immediate sign that something is very wrong, and they all know it. Now even Taecyeon looks worried.
"Oh," Junsu says. "Wow." He puts a hand on Chansung's arm. Chansung appreciates the contact.
"What do we do?" Junho asks quietly.
No-one answers.
"Fuck," Taecyeon says eventually. "Why isn't Jay here?"
Chansung blinks. "Who's Jay?"
Khun and Junsu have to physically restrain Taecyeon. Chansung, more confused than anything else, cowers behind a pizza box.
+
"Okay, what are you doing?" Chansung finally asks, hands on hips as he exits the bathroom to see Junho hovering in the hall.
Junho has been following him around all day, keeping tabs on him and constantly jumping in to 'help' him out. At breakfast, Chansung had been too lazy to pick up his spoon for his rice, using his chopsticks instead, and Junho had practically attacked him, swapping the two implements at lightning speed before going back to his own meal. Then, Chansung had been getting dressed and had accidentally put his t-shirt on the wrong way, and Junho had come in pretending to return Chansung's CD, seen his predicament, and practically dressed Chansung himself.
He'd glued himself to Chansung's side in interviews, finishing his sentences whenever Chansung had paused, and even in practice he had insisted on going through each of their routines over and over, under the guise of helping Junsu refine his technique. Chansung is grateful that Junho cares, but there is such a thing as overkill.
"What?" Junho widens his eyes, trying for innocence.
"I'm not an invalid, Junho, I can take care of myself."
"No, you can't," Junho says, dropping all pretence. "I'm sorry, but you need our help, and we're gonna give it to you."
"All five of you at once?" he shoots back, unable to resist the innuendo, but Junho just arches a brow.
"You know I'm right."
Chansung takes a moment, trying to decide how he feels. Really, he does know that Junho has a point, because if he keeps forgetting some of the most basic processes involved in daily life, things are going to get pretty difficult. But that doesn't mean he can't even spend one moment by himself.
"I do need your help," he says slowly, "and I appreciate it. But I feel like you're overcrowding me, and I hate feeling like that, because you're Junho. I just... Can we say that I'll ask, when I need help?"
Junho eyes him suspiciously. "Will you ask?"
"I will for you."
"…Okay." He smiles then, and Chansung smiles back.
Junho leaves him mostly alone after that, but Chansung is reassured to feel him still watching over him.
+
"How long do you think this is going to last?"
Chansung asks Khun because he knows Khun will give him a straight answer. Khun is honest, and he knows things, and Chansung has always privately likened him, just a little bit, to the inappropriately grabby, wise and slightly kooky baboon in The Lion King-although Khun is, admittedly, much better looking. "Is this it, forever? What if it gets worse?"
"I don't know." He looks up from his magazine, letting the M!Countdown coordi-noonas attack his face with powder, watching Chansung through the mirror. "No-one can tell you that for sure, Chansung-ah. Just know that we're here for you."
Khun's words mean less to him than they should. The guys have been telling him that constantly since they found out, and even though he knows they are, hearing it over and over won't eliminate his problem. "Yeah." He forces himself to smile.
There's a pause before Khun adds, "Aigoo, your hair looks extra pretty today. Can I touch it?"
Chansung can feel his smile turning genuine, unable to resist the lift of his mouth, and he whacks Khun on the arm, fighting off his incoming gropes.
When he forgets what he's supposed to do during filming, Khun is the one to cover for him.
+
After a session at the gym, where all of the equipment had seemed like elaborate torture devices and he hadn't known how to use any of it, he finds himself moping in the sauna, wallowing in his own misery.
He hates this. He hates it, and he hates himself, because he's not the only one this is affecting-his band mates are suffering, too. He sees how tired Junho is getting, how Khun worries so much he can't sleep, how frustrated Wooyoung is at his own inability to solve everything, how Junsu goes out of his way to make things easier for him while still making it seem like he's not, and how Taecyeon valiantly gets them through their PR, their strongman and front man, with words and grins that don't quite ring true. He sees it all and it only makes things worse.
He is about to get up and leave, sick of his own thought processes, when there's a knock on the door. He frowns, because who knocks on a sauna door, but then the rapping sounds again, and he has no choice but to respond.
"Um... Come in?" he calls, and the door opens to reveal Taecyeon. He gives a small wave and ducks under the doorway to move inside, lowering himself down next to Chansung. "Why did you knock?"
He shrugs. "Dunno. Thought you might want some privacy."
"Oh." He nods and they sit in silence for a while, but Chansung has come to hate silence. It's full of the unknown and he's had too much experience with that lately, so he grasps for something, anything, to talk about. "I didn't remember my mother, today," he blurts, trying to disguise the way his voice is trembling. "She called, and now she thinks I hate her because I didn't recognise her."
Taecyeon nods slowly, scooting closer, letting their upper arms align. "I did some research. There's... I mean, it's highly unusual but some conditions to do with memory loss can be early-onset, so..." He trails off, shaking his head. "Sorry."
"Don't do that. Don't apologise, just... I know I need to do something about it, I know that, but I can't..."
"There's only so much the internet can tell us, Chansung-ah," Taecyeon says softly. He wraps an arm around Chansung's shoulders, and even though it's hot and they're only wearing waist-towels, Chansung leans in, allowing himself to take comfort in his hyung's embrace. "We've been trying not to pressure you, but... Maybe you should go to a real doctor."
"I know. I'm just... I need... I don't know. I just don't know."
"Okay." Taecyeon rests his head against Chansung's.
Chansung sighs.
+
Chansung knows he's pushing it when, three days later, he still hasn't seen a doctor, and his inability to use the stove nearly burns the dorm down. He's in the bathroom hiding out and washing up when Junsu comes in with his handphone outstretched.
"It's for you," is all he says, when Chansung gives him a questioning look.
Hesitantly, he takes the phone, puts it to his ear, and says, "Hello?"
"What the fuck, maknae?" He takes a moment to recognise Jaebum's voice, but once he does, he can't stop the giant grin from spreading across his face, not even caring that all Jaebum's doing is swearing.
"Bummie-hyung!" he says happily.
"Shut the hell up, and don't you dare 'hyung' me until you've been to see a fucking doctor, you pabo."
Chansung stops short, feeling panic rising up inside him, because Jaebum wasn't supposed to know, wasn't supposed to worry, and he's so sick of hurting the people he loves and he really, really wishes he were here, close enough to cling to, to bite, to help them all out just by being Jaebum.
Aside from that, he's going to kill whoever told him, and they definitely better not have let slip that Chansung forgot him.
"Chan," he says, gentler than before, "say something."
"Your Korean is worse."
Jaebum laughs, already making him feel a bit better. "It wasn't that good to begin with."
"I'm scared," he says eventually, staring at his reflection in the glass. He feels more tired than he looks. "Really scared."
"We all are, Chansung-ah," Jaebum says softly, "but you have to let us help you."
"I love you, hyung."
For once, he mentions absolutely nothing about being gay, and instead answers, "I love you, too, maknae."
Chansung is booked in for an appointment with a neurologist later that day.
+
The morning Chansung is supposed to get his results, he wakes up late to a very quiet house.
He yawns, rolling over in the bed that Khun has forced him to sleep in lately, and strains to hear anything, but the house is still silent, which means everyone is gone. He doesn't know whether that's a good or a bad thing.
Levering himself out from under the blankets, he jumps down and pads into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes. He reaches blindly for the fridge door, and his hand comes into contact with a papery texture, and he blinks, because the fridge is not usually made of paper, unless he forgot that, too. Eventually, his eyes focus on the post-it that's attached to the handle, and he rips it off.
Fridge, it says, in Khun's precise handwriting. Open me for COLD FOOD.
Chansung frowns, before doing just that.
All of the food is covered with post-its. He picks up the milk, and on it is a note, written by Junsu, describing everything it can be used for. The leftover rice has similar instructions, and even the half-eaten chocolate bar has a label, saying Wooyoung's property. Not for human consumption. (Unless you're Wooyoung. Which you're not.)
Chansung lets the door close, turning to survey the rest of the kitchen. Everything is adorned with sticky notes, from the dirty cutlery on the sink, to the cereal boxes lining the counter, to the calendar on the wall. A perusal of the rest of the house yields identical results, and it seems like Taecyeon took particular relish in labeling the toilet, if the five vulgar notes there are anything to go by.
Chansung ends up back in his room, the only untouched area in the entire dorm, and curls up in his bed again, letting himself cry for the first time since it all began.
+
Too soon, he hears footsteps outside, and the door opens to reveal Minjae-hyung. He sounds serious.
"Chansung-ah," he murmurs, "are you awake?"
Chansung sighs. "Yes."
"There's been news." Chansung doesn't reply, and Minjae hesitates before adding, "Come out when you're ready."
The door closes, before briefly opening again a moment later. Footsteps approach his bed, and Junho hoists himself up and climbs in with him, yanking the covers up high and pressing his nose into Chansung's neck, warming him all over. Chansung pulls him close.
He falls asleep again and wakes a few hours later to find Junho still there. Chansung just watches him for a few moments, cataloguing everything, from his name to the way he breathes, using his nose and his mouth and his throat and his lungs. The colour of the t-shirt he's wearing is purple, the soft sounds he's making are snores, and the emotion that Chansung feels for him, for all of them, is love.
Chansung takes a deep breath. "Junho," he whispers, shaking him gently. Junho's eyes blink open, and he squeezes Chansung's hand. "Let's go."
The rest of the guys are waiting outside when they emerge, and they wrap themselves around him, cloth and skin and warmth making a 2PM sandwich, as Minjae begins to explain.
Chansung holds on to them tightly.
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