Finding Eden [contest fic] 2/2
Title: Finding Eden
Rating: PG-13
Form: 2/2
Genre: Drama, angstish?
Summary: Yunho wakes up in a world very different to his own, and has to question everything he's ever known.
Part 1
PART 2
It was insane.
Yunho couldn’t fathom what the woman (he would not think of her as his mother, not after what she had tried to claim) was saying.
“Dong Bang Shin Ki was a very successful Korean band.” She’d explained, after he’d blown up at her, frustrated with the incomprehensibility of what she’d said. “They topped the charts here and in Japan, and China too. They went all over the world… they were very talented young men.” He had felt like screaming at her that he knew - he was there with them for all of that. What she’d told him next had floored him however.
“Yunho… Dong Bang Shin Ki only ever had four members. There was no Uknow.”
This time, there hadn’t been any angry outburst, he’d just stared at her. How did he know so much about them then? He wanted to know. She had an answer for that too.
“They debuted over 15 years ago, Yunho, in 2004 I think it was. They were your favourite band when you were little. You used to watch them on TV all the time, made me buy their CDs and DVDs for you. You’d jump around at home, mimicking their dances and singing their songs. But honey, they’re all over 30 now, and the band broke up a few years ago.”
He didn’t want to be here anymore. He wanted to wake up, wake up now. This was not a fun dream to be having, and he wanted out. Now.
“Hupsa daisy now…” The cheery voice broke through his consciousness, and he found himself being raised into a more seated position, his bed whirring and shaking as it contracted. A brightly smiling nurse was on one side of his bed, holding the bed controls. “Time for breakfast!” She informed him.
After the bed came to a stop, she let the control hang over the side of the rail, and fussed about setting his tray straight on the little table. She then rolled it over, positioning it over his lap and flicking the brake on the wheel so that it wouldn’t move as he ate.
“You slept right through dinner last night, so you better eat up!” She said, pulling off the cover of his tray to reveal toast and some butter and jam.
Yunho’s gaze shot up from his contemplation of the food to the young nurses’ face, feeling shocked.
“I slept through dinner?” He asked, incredulous. She nodded though.
“Yep. The young man that was sitting with you said to let you sleep though, when we couldn’t wake you the first time. You did look pretty tired!” She checked his chart, and then pulled up his blankets almost absently.
“Young man?” Yunho repeated, feeling a little silly in doing so. She smiled at him again though, unfazed.
“Yeah, your band mate, Xiah. He stayed until about eleven, I think. I’ve been on all night, so I saw him leave.” She explained, a little blush spreading across her cheeks. Ah, Yunho thought, another Junsu fan. He would have laughed, if it were any other situation. “They obviously all care about you a lot, your friends.” She kept going, obviously rather taken with the idea of chatting with him, even if he wasn’t quite Xiah Junsu. “They’ve all come to sit with you… it’s really cute.”
She must have noticed him eyeing her strangely, because she flapped her hands in a flustered manner.
“Oh no, don’t worry! I’m not like a stalker fan. I mean, I like you guys, I do - I think you’re all super talented. But I promise I won’t bother you! It’s just kinda cool, being able to see all these famous guys up close. And you’re all as good looking up close as you are on TV!” She exclaimed. Yunho hadn’t really been thinking along those lines, but he wasn’t surprised that there was at least one nurse overawed by who they were serving. It had happened most of the other times they’d had to visit hospital. At least this one didn’t seem too crazy, just overly talkative.
“It’s… it’s okay. Erm. I’m glad you like our music.” He said rather awkwardly, still lost for words. She beamed though, not hard to please. “I’ll er, just eat this then.” He looked down at his tray and picked up the plastic knife to one side, pulling off the top of the jam packet slowly.
The nurse seemed to get the hint, flushing red again as she bobbed.
“Of course. Please just press the button if you need any assistance. Someone will be by to pick up the tray later. Hope you feel better soon Mr Jung!” She trilled, before ducking out the door rather speedily. Yunho felt a little bad for his bluntness, but couldn’t bring himself to care too much. He was so tired still, and as he bit into a slice of toast, he tried very hard not to think of the ‘dream’. The dream where they’d told him he was dreaming all this.
He’d ended up back in the white room again.
He was half terrified of the fact, half morbidly curious as to what surprise would be sprung on him this time.
The doctor had been in his room when he awoke, and had left to find his ‘mother’. It was not long the woman arrived, clutching a worn looking magazine in both her hands as she came through the doorway.
She unfurled it, holding it out towards him.
“Here. I think you should see this.”
Yunho stared, uncomprehending, at the picture before him. It was long minutes before he was able to lift a shaking hand and take the magazine, fingers smoothing over the flat image, as if to check his eyes weren’t deceiving him.
There they were, in faded colour. Changmin, on the right, tall and lanky and smiling lopsidedly at the camera, hand out stretched. Junsu, on the left, hand similarly outstretched with a huge grin plastered over his face. Yoochun, beside him, hat tipped jauntily as he smirked cheekily. And there… there between them all was Jaejoong. His Jaejoongie.
Except… as he stared harder, his eyebrows furrowing and eyes narrowing in concentration, he realised something. It was Jaejoong…. except, it wasn’t. The man in the picture was not Jaejoong. He would know Jae anywhere, and that man was not him. The man was too flat, too uninspiring to be mistaken for the vivacious lead singer of Dong Bang Shin Ki. He was faded, like a badly made copy, fuzzy around the edges and lacking the vibrancy of the original. He didn’t shine like Jaejoong, wasn’t the colourful, wonderful man that Yunho loved so desperately. He wasn’t as uniquely beautiful, didn’t smile the same. He wasn’t Jaejoong. The others were the same, now that he looked at them. Faded… like they weren’t real.
“You used to love fairy tales when you were little. Majestic stories about going on grand adventures, good triumphing over evil, about protecting people. You always wanted to be something bigger… to take part in your own fairy tale.” His mother said, breaking through his reverie.
He looked up at her, wondering what that had to do with this faded picture of faded people.
“We’d always told you that you have to go after your dreams. That you could do anything you wanted if you put your mind to it.” She went on, walking slowly around the room, gaze averted from Yunho. “And then… after your accident, you did. But only in your mind. You went to become a singer, became a singer, found a group of friends just like you’d always wanted - a group that was close enough to be family.”
Her words were soft, unassuming, but somehow they brought a rage to Yunho. He couldn’t believe that he’d made it all up. That it wasn’t real.
“It doesn’t make any sense!” Yunho near yelled, throwing down the magazine on the bed. “I was happy there!” He exclaimed. His mother looked at him, her eyes filled with so much sadness. She sat down, slowly, on the bed.
“I know.” She said, softly. “I know… but…” She paused, as if reluctant to continue. “But think about it Yunho. Think about what that means. You were happy - everything had gone right in your life. You had everything you ever wanted. You were on the top of the world.”
Yunho’s pacing slowed, then stopped. He turned, slowly, to face her, looking at her weary form on the bed. Her face was guileless, filled with a murky mix of emotions that made Yunho ache just to look at.
It didn’t stop him from shaking his head against her argument however.
“It wasn’t all happy. I had horrible periods of my life as well…” He thought about living under the train station stairs, being so cold he couldn’t feel his body anymore, about the pain in his father’s eyes when he couldn’t look after his family.
“Painful periods that you triumphed over spectacularly, that you made into your strengths and were able to show made you who you were. Painful periods that led you to overwhelming happiness. Just like in a fairy tale.”
Happy, he thought, and then really thought about it.
It wasn’t something he really consciously considered much. Oh, there were moments he knew he was happy, undoubtedly, and he appreciated his success and the success of the band… but… happy.
It was glaringly obvious to himself now, sitting in this horrible white box, with a weathered, aged woman who bore only a passing resemblance to his mother (the same way those men in the picture bore only a passing resemblance to the vibrant young men he knew), that he had been happy. So very happy. Despite all the stress and pressures of his job, the unrelenting schedules, crazy fans and industry snark… he’d been very happy, for almost all of his life since Dong Bang Shin Ki had been conceived.
Their music, the fans, all the people supporting and helping them… all of it had made him happy. And the members made him happiest of all. Jaejoong’s face came to his mind, the soft curve of a wiry, smug smile on his full lips, and suddenly Yunho missed him fiercely; wanting desperately to hold his lover in his arms… fall asleep in his arms and know that he would wake in exactly the same spot, safe in Jaejoong’s embrace.
As much as he loved his parents, for he did, greatly, he had found a new family of his own. One that was, in many ways, so much closer to him then his biological family. They had been through so much together, understood each other so thoroughly, and supported each other unconditionally. When something really went wrong, there were no questions or arguments, just a commitment to work towards a solution, whatever it may entail. That kind of faith and trust had pushed down the barriers between them, and Yunho knew that the bonds he had with the members were the source of his greatest joy.
And now, his mother was telling him it was all an illusion.
That he had achieved nothing, become nothing, and had nothing. He was an insane man in a white room, protected from a world he knew nothing of, with no bonds save the shaky, unfamiliar ones with a mother he’d not spoken to in nine years.
He couldn’t really remember what happened after that. The man in white came back, and his mother was hugging him, and then he thought he might have slept for a while. Another man came after that, staring at him strangely and asking him questions, about what he wanted, about his goals, about focusing on reality and the future.
When Yunho woke up, Jaejoong was there, and Yunho felt like crying just at the sight of him. He was speechless, just staring at the young man in the seat by the bed, until Jaejoong realised he was conscious and leapt up, eyes wide.
Yunho didn’t let him get out a word though, half falling out of the bed in his rush to get to Jaejoong. The older boy caught him, wrapping his arms around Yunho tightly and nudging him back on the bed, all the while hugging him back every inch as hard as Yunho was hugging him.
Yunho buried his head into the crook of Jaejoong’s neck, breathing in his scent and just feeling the solid reality of the body against his. Jaejoong was real, something in his head screamed gleefully, like it had ever been in doubt. His grip tightened, fingers clawing into Jaejoong’s back as he whimpered almost inaudibly.
“Baby? Jesus, Yunho… it’s okay baby, it’s okay…” Jaejoong whispered, trying to sooth the frantic-seeming man. It was scary, seeing the usually unflappable Yunho so completely lost.
Kissing the top of Yunho’s hair, rubbing small circles on the heaving back, Jaejoong kept up a quiet litany of soft, soothing nonsense; just hoping that Yunho would calm down.
Eventually, Yunho’s panic seemed to subside a little. Enough for him to breathe properly, to pull back enough to cup Jaejoong’s face and trace over all the bigger-then-life features that popped up so vividly on the flesh and blood man before him. Jaejoong here was a far cry from the faded photos of the other place. Jaejoong’s hands and face were solid and warm under his touch, his eyes reflecting worry and love and so much more, and Yunho nearly started crying again for the relief of it.
“I’m going insane, Jaejoongie… I think I’m loosing my mind.” He whispered, completely stricken.
Jaejoong wiped away the damp tear tracks from his cheeks and kissed the cleared skin gently. “You’re not. I won’t let you, Yunho. I won’t let you.”
Yunho surged forward, needing more solid reassurance, and kissed Jaejoong desperately. Jaejoong, bewildered, submitted to the forceful touch, responding as he could as Yunho invaded his mouth. Yunho’s hands slid down to curl around Jaejoong’s neck, holding him steady as they kissed. He didn’t care that someone could walk in any moment and see them, didn’t care for anything at that moment except for Jaejoong.
“I don’t want to leave you.” He whispered as they parted, leaning his forehead against Jaejoong’s and closing his eyes. Jaejoong gripped his arm tightly in alarm.
“You’re not going anywhere Yunho. You’re not!” Jaejoong hissed forcefully, nails digging into his arm. “Now tell me what’s going on!”
It took a long while for Yunho to compose himself enough to begin. Jaejoong had crawled onto the bed beside him, neither of them quite willing to let each other go. Yunho was terrified of some how slipping into the other world, while Jaejoong was terrified about how desperate Yunho seemed, and how the gaps between his wakefulness seemed to be getting longer instead of shorter.
“Talk to me, Yunho.” He repeated, softly, as they faced each other on the pillow, faces only inches apart while their bodies twined.
Yunho gulped, and began.
Began with his first dream, the white room and the man. Told Jaejoong of his not-mother, and the things she’d told him. Told Jaejoong that he thought he must be going crazy, because it had somehow started to make a horrid kind of sense. He didn’t want to believe, he didn’t, but something in his mind wouldn’t let go of it.
“I’m real Yunho. I am.” Jaejoong whispered, after he’d finished, and pressed their lips together again briefly. “I’m real, and so is the band, and you are most definitely Uknow Yunho, our fearless leadershii.” It was stupid, but somehow those words reassured Yunho. Even if apparitions would make such a claim, it felt good to hear.
“There’s something wrong, Yunho, there is… but you’re not making us up. The doctors are going to do a brain scan or something, to find out what’s wrong. We’ll get through this, okay?” Jaejoong said, voice steady, even though his eyes were shining with moisture and he couldn’t hide his worry.
“We’ll get through this. Anything, together, right?” Jaejoong repeated, and Yunho let out a slow sigh of breath, wanting to believe it so badly. He gave Jaejoong a small smile.
“Anything.” He reiterated. Then Jaejoong pressed the nurse’s button, and reluctantly slid off the bed, pressing on last kiss on his lips before people bustled into the room. As the nurses wheeled him out the door to where the MRI machine was, Jaejoong gave him an encouraging smile before being swept from sight.
Yunho passed out while the machine was taking images, falling into blackness.
He’d had another session with the man that called himself a therapist.
It was so frustrating though, and by the end of the ‘session’, Yunho had felt like strangling the ever patient, totally placid man, just for the completely condescending way he spoke and the inane questions he’d asked.
“Are you happy?” The man had inquired, and Yunho had looked at him like he was crazy.
They’d had to see a stress psychologist sometimes - management wanting them to be checked up on every once and a while ‘just in case’, but it was nothing like this. The SM employed psychologist was a friendly young woman who just asked them about how they were feeling, what they were doing to relax and such.
This shrink was nothing like that. He sat there in his white coat, staring at Yunho like the extra scrutiny would unearth some deep seated problem that was causing this all to happen. Yunho felt like the man should have been peering over a set of glasses, but he’d found out that virtually everyone now had either corrective surgery or was ‘fixed’ from birth. The whole idea seemed creepy to him, but who was he to argue with progress. Either way though, it gave Yunho the unsettling feeling of being scrutinised under a microscope like a bug, and he felt disinclined to talk about the weather with the man, let alone discuss any underlying trauma he had.
He’d been so very relieved when the man had left, even if he had provided a brief respite to the boredom of the white room. There was, really, nothing to do in it. Not even a window to look out. Instead, he lay back down on the bed (sheet-less as it was) and thought.
Mainly, he thought about the differences between the two ‘realities’. He was doing that a lot recently, no matter which place he was in. There was something very wrong with him, he knew, but he still had very little clue as to what it was.
Either, he was starting to go crazy - becoming deluded and imagining things, whole worlds, that did not exist… or, he had been crazy for nine years already, and was still bordering on the insane as he dipped in and out of his meticulously crafted fantasies. Neither option was appealing; however one of them was the reality.
Which world was real? Which did he want to be real?
He’d started making lists. He did that with many hard decisions he had to make, creating a list of pros and cons and figuring out what the facts were. He wasn’t like Jaejoong, who worked nearly purely on instinct with very little foresight or planning (an approach which often drove him to complete distraction, with how wild and unpredictable the lead singer could be. In their profession, they could ill afford unpredictability. Yet, it was also one of the many things Yunho loved about the fiery young man). Yunho liked to know exactly what his options were and exactly what the situation was.
The problem, he found however, was that he didn’t trust himself. The knowledge that he was unbalanced to some level meant that he wasn’t sure that anything he put on those mental lists was valid. Or that he was functioning well enough to make sensible use of the lists.
Having nothing better to do however, gave him enough reason to at least try. He started thinking about the arguments for each case, about what was plausible and what made more sense. He also thought about which one he’d rather be true.
He didn’t really like what he came up with however, finding that what made more sense did not match up with his own choice of realities.
He woke up in hospital, but there was nobody else around. He wanted to get up, call a nurse, but he found himself drifting… unable to connect. There were big brain scan pictures hung on the wall, and he fuzzily wondered if they were his own. There’s something wrong, Jaejoong had said, but Yunho couldn’t make head or tale of what was shown in the pictures.
Jaejoong, he thought, needily. Where are you? He’d drifted back off into a reluctant sleep before he could find an answer.
There were people talking in the room, their hushed voices still very audible in the enclosed space.
“His mind is still not dealing properly with reality.” A male voice said. “He’s trying to fight himself over what he believes is real.”
“But how long will it take? When will he come back, for good?” The female voice was anxious, and Yunho knew immediately it was his mother.
There was a sigh, and a shuffling noise like someone moving across the floor.
“We can’t say. It’s a good sign that he’s spending more time awake and aware here, and less time in his mind. But the mind is a very fragile, complex thing… it’s very hard to predict how anything will happen in situations like this. All we can keep doing is encouraging him, and reinforce reality. He’s drifting back and forth because he can’t figure out what to believe.” The man said.
Yunho had to stop himself from frowning, lying still in hopes they would say more. The man sounded reassuring and calm, but not so confident. His mother sounded desperate though, as she went on.
“What about the drugs, can’t you give him more, to help him?” The urge to frown increased at the word ‘drugs’. What drugs?! What were they giving him?
“No… we can’t risk it. It’s amazing what the new medication has done for him already. It’s still experimental… you knew from the beginning we’d have to be very careful with it.” The man explained gently, and then there were some more shuffling noises. Someone approached the bed, and as a smaller hand slipped into his own, he knew his mother had sat down beside him. The man sighed, and then Yunho just barely heard the strange, light ‘whooshing’ noise the door made as it appeared.
“I’ll leave you with him then. If he wakes again, keep talking to him. The more he interacts in the real world, the better.” The man said, and then presumably left the room, the whoosh of the door disappearing the only noise in the room for some time.
Yunho didn’t open his eyes though, suddenly not wanting to face his mother and all the hopeful expectation in her face. The grip on his hand increased, and he tensed ever so slightly as he heard his mother begin to cry softly.
Damning himself for being a coward, for being messed up, for not knowing what was right, Yunho lay on the bed still and silent as his mother cried, unable to move. And somehow, selfishly, he prayed that when he woke up, that he would not wake up here.
“He’s awake!” Jaejoong’s joyed exclamation met him as he roused, and he gripped the hand holding his tightly. Opening his eyes, he found the whole band gathered around his bed, including their manager. All of them were looking down at him with wide eyes, Jaejoong sitting on the edge of his bed and holding his hand to his chest.
“Thank god… thank god…” Jaejoong whispered, moving his grip to hug Yunho’s whole arm. Yunho could only smile up at him weakly, drinking in the sight of all the familiar people gathered around his bed.
“I’ll get the doctor.” Their manager said hurriedly, turning to bustle through the door. Changmin closed up the gap he’d left, stepping closer to the bed and laying a hand on Yunho’s blanket-covered calf.
“We thought you weren’t going to wake up again.” Junsu whispered, looking completely stricken.
“How long was I out?” Yunho asked concernedly, wondering just how much time he was spending over in the other place. It seemed to be getting longer and longer each time.
“Two days.” Changmin replied, quietly. “You wouldn’t wake up for two days.” His face was impassive, but Yoochun reached out to put an arm around his shoulders, offering some silent comfort. Yoochun didn’t look to be doing too well himself however, his face pale and drawn looking. The emotionally sensitive young man was obviously strung out by the whole ordeal.
Yunho felt pretty traumatised himself. Two days?! He couldn’t have been gone that long…! Turning his head to try and seek confirmation from Junsu and Jaejoong, he realised to his horror that there were nodule things attached to his head, with wires laid out over his pillow. His eyes widened, and he felt his breath shortening.
“Breathe Yunho!” Junsu snapped the command, and Jaejoong squeezed harder on his arm, reaching out with his other hand to press against Yunho’s chest. Yunho was quite sure he would have been able to feel the thundering of his heart.
“Calm down Yunho, it’s okay, you’re okay.” Jaejoong said, and Yunho locked onto his face as an anchor. His lover smiled, a little tremulously, and Yunho managed to take hold of himself enough to creep his free hand over to rest it over Jaejoong’s, tangling their fingers there together as well.
“Why… why do I have these things…?” He asked, brokenly. He couldn’t think of the words he wanted to use, and the inability to speak caused him to panic further. He didn’t get too much of a chance however, before the door opened, and their manager and a doctor strode through. Jaejoong let go of one of his hands, but stubbornly clung to the other one, thumb stroking over Yunho’s skin in an effort to reassure.
“We put them on you to monitor your brainwaves. You gave us quite a scare there, Mr Jung.” The doctor said, coming to one side of his bed. Changmin and Yoochun shuffled out of the way, allowing the man to look at the screens set up there. The doctor turned the table a little, so that the display was visible to Yunho.
“You see here?” He said, pointing to a disturbingly flat bit of readout. “You went nearly brain dead there - very much like a coma patient.” His finger slid along the line, to where it suddenly spiked. “And this is what your brain is doing now. Quite the difference.” Yunho gaped at him.
“I went… brain dead?!” He breathed out, disbelieving. “What… what the hell is wrong with me?” He asked, in a whisper. Jaejoong squeezed his hand again, but Yunho’s eyes never left the doctor.
The man sighed, turning weary eyes on Yunho.
“To be honest, Mr Jung, we don’t know. The brain is such a complicated organism, we’ve barely scraped the surface of what it does and what it can do. Your case is… rather abnormal, and we can’t tell what’s happening.” The man explained.
“What?! You can’t do anything?!” It was Jaejoong that made the outburst, and as Yunho looked over at him, throat closed over too far to make his own protests, he saw the stricken expression of his lover. Jaejoong was obviously torn between fear and anger, his grip near crushing Yunho’s hand.
“I’m afraid, given that we don’t know - ” The doctor began, but was quickly shot down by Jaejoong, who rose from his perch abruptly.
“No! You have to do something! What if it happens again? What if next time, he doesn’t wake up again?!” Jaejoong yelled.
“Jaejoong…” Their manager stepped forward, trying to push Jaejoong back down to sit on the bed. Jaejoong struggled though, not wanting to give in.
“Hyung’s right. There has to be something!” Changmin piped up, face hard. Yoochun had begun crying, and this time it was Changmin who put a comforting arm over the older boy. “We can’t just sit back and see what happens!”
“Unfortunately, we can’t treat what we don’t understand. The MRI showed nothing abnormal, even given that he passed out during it. The scans just showed a completely awake person, and then a deeply asleep one. There’s no indication of trauma, or swelling, or even an abnormal growth like cancer. There’s nothing wrong with his brain that we can see at all.” The doctor defended himself.
Jaejoong looked fit to burst, and Junsu began arguing with the doctor, with injections from Changmin when he thought of something to add. Their manager hovered worriedly on the side, looking incredibly pensive.
Yunho however, couldn’t think of anything to say. Nothing wrong with his brain.There was nothing wrong with his brain. He felt himself fading, and struggled desperately against it.
“No!” The word was barely breathed out, and lost to the argument going on over his bed. Jaejoong turned, just in time to see his eyes beginning to close. Yunho thought his lover must have screamed then, a loud noise accompanying him into darkness.
“I love you…” He tried to say, but he never knew if the words left his throat.
“What do the doctors in your dream world think is wrong with you?” The therapist asked, eyes boring into Yunho once more. The man had taken to calling the other reality a ‘dream world’, which didn’t sit well with Yunho. Yunho scowled at him, also not liking what the man was trying to get him to do.
“Just because they don’t know doesn’t mean they don’t exist.” He replied rather hotly. “Maybe it’s some weird brain thing they can’t detect.”
“You should think more positively, Yunho. The brain is very powerful… but you need to be the one in control of it. It’s your will, and your belief that will pull you through.” The man counselled, although Yunho was not so receptive of his words, and merely grunted in reply. He hated that he was so awake here, so aware, when he couldn’t even get himself to sit up and hug Jaejoong last time he’d been there. That he’d passed out again so quickly and ended up here again. His time there had been getting shorter and shorter, and he’d woken up in the white room for three days in a row now.
They lapsed into silence for a moment, the therapist eyeing him with pursed lips. Yunho stared back sullenly.
“Did you talk to your mother about your family?” The therapist eventually asked. Yunho’s gaze dropped to the ground.
“Yes. They’re fine, in both places. I’m glad JiHye’s okay. I am.” Yunho replied, slowly. He’d talked to his mother, a slow halting conversation mainly about JiHye’s accomplishments at school. It had been awkward, but relieving at the same time.
“Don’t you think you should be with your loved ones?” The man asked him then, and Yunho startled, the question turning in his mind oddly. He tried to sort out why it made him feel so strange, but couldn’t put his finger on it.
“They’re doing fine without me. They always have.” He said instead, rather proudly.
It was not til after the therapist left that Yunho realised what he’d said.
His mother was sad, upset at his situation. He’d brought her a lot of pain in the past… and now, perhaps even more pain by ‘waking up’ like this, forcing her through trying to talk down an estranged, deranged son; forcing her to hope for recovery, to hope that the waiting hadn’t been in vain. Perhaps it would have been easier for her if he’d died in the accident. Nine years… nine years, to this.
She didn’t need him. No more then JiHye or his father did. He should have died a long time ago, left them to mourn and then move on. There was no one here for him anymore. This place, where Dong Bang Shin Ki was a forgotten memory, left to fading magazines and old CDs. Where Uknow Yunho never existed. Where Jaejoong had never loved him, had never even known him. A place where he had no dreams, no goals, no life.
His dreams weren’t here anymore.
As he stood, stunned by his realisation, in the middle of the room, the wall cracked open, and the door appeared, along with his mother.
Her eyebrows furrowed as she saw him standing there like that, with such a strange expression on is face.
“Yunho?” She asked, stepping forward.
“Mother.” He said, and for the first time in such a long time, he felt sure. “Mother… I’m so sorry. And thank you. I love you.”
Her eyes widened, shock registering on her face. He smiled at her, beatific, and then closed his eyes, concentrating.
“Are you happy?”
“You have to go after your dreams.”
“You should be with your loved ones.”
“They obviously care about you a lot.”
“I love you.”
“I love you… please come back… please…” The whispers were soft, like faint breaths of wind against his cheek. Jaejoong’s warm hand was holding his, and the smell of him filled the air. Yunho took a deep breath, opening his eyes. Above him, the generic lights of the hospital flickered, buzzing quietly in the silence.
Yunho smiled, and turned his head.
In a white room, a young man’s body collapsed to the floor; his mother an instant too late to catch him as she lunged forward, a scream choking in her throat.
His face was slack, smiling blankly at the ceiling, and she cradled his head in her lap, sobbing soundlessly.
A man in a white coat came rushing into the room, kneeling beside the pair. He pulled a small hand held device from his pocket, holding it over the young man’s forehead. It beeped, forlornly, and the man looked up at the woman sadly.
“I’m sorry… he’s gone.” Was all he said. Her body shook as she cried, but she nodded slightly in understanding. She’d already known, known as soon as he’d smiled at her like that. Her baby boy was gone again, and he wouldn’t be coming back this time.
She leaned down, burying her head into his hair and holding him tightly, his warm body held tightly against her.
Neither the man nor the woman saw the smile that crept across the young man’s face, nor the way his lips parted ever so slightly, a sigh of contentment easing out of his lungs.
“I’m home, Jaejoong.”
Rating: PG-13
Form: 2/2
Genre: Drama, angstish?
Summary: Yunho wakes up in a world very different to his own, and has to question everything he's ever known.
Part 1
PART 2
It was insane.
Yunho couldn’t fathom what the woman (he would not think of her as his mother, not after what she had tried to claim) was saying.
“Dong Bang Shin Ki was a very successful Korean band.” She’d explained, after he’d blown up at her, frustrated with the incomprehensibility of what she’d said. “They topped the charts here and in Japan, and China too. They went all over the world… they were very talented young men.” He had felt like screaming at her that he knew - he was there with them for all of that. What she’d told him next had floored him however.
“Yunho… Dong Bang Shin Ki only ever had four members. There was no Uknow.”
This time, there hadn’t been any angry outburst, he’d just stared at her. How did he know so much about them then? He wanted to know. She had an answer for that too.
“They debuted over 15 years ago, Yunho, in 2004 I think it was. They were your favourite band when you were little. You used to watch them on TV all the time, made me buy their CDs and DVDs for you. You’d jump around at home, mimicking their dances and singing their songs. But honey, they’re all over 30 now, and the band broke up a few years ago.”
He didn’t want to be here anymore. He wanted to wake up, wake up now. This was not a fun dream to be having, and he wanted out. Now.
“Hupsa daisy now…” The cheery voice broke through his consciousness, and he found himself being raised into a more seated position, his bed whirring and shaking as it contracted. A brightly smiling nurse was on one side of his bed, holding the bed controls. “Time for breakfast!” She informed him.
After the bed came to a stop, she let the control hang over the side of the rail, and fussed about setting his tray straight on the little table. She then rolled it over, positioning it over his lap and flicking the brake on the wheel so that it wouldn’t move as he ate.
“You slept right through dinner last night, so you better eat up!” She said, pulling off the cover of his tray to reveal toast and some butter and jam.
Yunho’s gaze shot up from his contemplation of the food to the young nurses’ face, feeling shocked.
“I slept through dinner?” He asked, incredulous. She nodded though.
“Yep. The young man that was sitting with you said to let you sleep though, when we couldn’t wake you the first time. You did look pretty tired!” She checked his chart, and then pulled up his blankets almost absently.
“Young man?” Yunho repeated, feeling a little silly in doing so. She smiled at him again though, unfazed.
“Yeah, your band mate, Xiah. He stayed until about eleven, I think. I’ve been on all night, so I saw him leave.” She explained, a little blush spreading across her cheeks. Ah, Yunho thought, another Junsu fan. He would have laughed, if it were any other situation. “They obviously all care about you a lot, your friends.” She kept going, obviously rather taken with the idea of chatting with him, even if he wasn’t quite Xiah Junsu. “They’ve all come to sit with you… it’s really cute.”
She must have noticed him eyeing her strangely, because she flapped her hands in a flustered manner.
“Oh no, don’t worry! I’m not like a stalker fan. I mean, I like you guys, I do - I think you’re all super talented. But I promise I won’t bother you! It’s just kinda cool, being able to see all these famous guys up close. And you’re all as good looking up close as you are on TV!” She exclaimed. Yunho hadn’t really been thinking along those lines, but he wasn’t surprised that there was at least one nurse overawed by who they were serving. It had happened most of the other times they’d had to visit hospital. At least this one didn’t seem too crazy, just overly talkative.
“It’s… it’s okay. Erm. I’m glad you like our music.” He said rather awkwardly, still lost for words. She beamed though, not hard to please. “I’ll er, just eat this then.” He looked down at his tray and picked up the plastic knife to one side, pulling off the top of the jam packet slowly.
The nurse seemed to get the hint, flushing red again as she bobbed.
“Of course. Please just press the button if you need any assistance. Someone will be by to pick up the tray later. Hope you feel better soon Mr Jung!” She trilled, before ducking out the door rather speedily. Yunho felt a little bad for his bluntness, but couldn’t bring himself to care too much. He was so tired still, and as he bit into a slice of toast, he tried very hard not to think of the ‘dream’. The dream where they’d told him he was dreaming all this.
He’d ended up back in the white room again.
He was half terrified of the fact, half morbidly curious as to what surprise would be sprung on him this time.
The doctor had been in his room when he awoke, and had left to find his ‘mother’. It was not long the woman arrived, clutching a worn looking magazine in both her hands as she came through the doorway.
She unfurled it, holding it out towards him.
“Here. I think you should see this.”
Yunho stared, uncomprehending, at the picture before him. It was long minutes before he was able to lift a shaking hand and take the magazine, fingers smoothing over the flat image, as if to check his eyes weren’t deceiving him.
There they were, in faded colour. Changmin, on the right, tall and lanky and smiling lopsidedly at the camera, hand out stretched. Junsu, on the left, hand similarly outstretched with a huge grin plastered over his face. Yoochun, beside him, hat tipped jauntily as he smirked cheekily. And there… there between them all was Jaejoong. His Jaejoongie.
Except… as he stared harder, his eyebrows furrowing and eyes narrowing in concentration, he realised something. It was Jaejoong…. except, it wasn’t. The man in the picture was not Jaejoong. He would know Jae anywhere, and that man was not him. The man was too flat, too uninspiring to be mistaken for the vivacious lead singer of Dong Bang Shin Ki. He was faded, like a badly made copy, fuzzy around the edges and lacking the vibrancy of the original. He didn’t shine like Jaejoong, wasn’t the colourful, wonderful man that Yunho loved so desperately. He wasn’t as uniquely beautiful, didn’t smile the same. He wasn’t Jaejoong. The others were the same, now that he looked at them. Faded… like they weren’t real.
“You used to love fairy tales when you were little. Majestic stories about going on grand adventures, good triumphing over evil, about protecting people. You always wanted to be something bigger… to take part in your own fairy tale.” His mother said, breaking through his reverie.
He looked up at her, wondering what that had to do with this faded picture of faded people.
“We’d always told you that you have to go after your dreams. That you could do anything you wanted if you put your mind to it.” She went on, walking slowly around the room, gaze averted from Yunho. “And then… after your accident, you did. But only in your mind. You went to become a singer, became a singer, found a group of friends just like you’d always wanted - a group that was close enough to be family.”
Her words were soft, unassuming, but somehow they brought a rage to Yunho. He couldn’t believe that he’d made it all up. That it wasn’t real.
“It doesn’t make any sense!” Yunho near yelled, throwing down the magazine on the bed. “I was happy there!” He exclaimed. His mother looked at him, her eyes filled with so much sadness. She sat down, slowly, on the bed.
“I know.” She said, softly. “I know… but…” She paused, as if reluctant to continue. “But think about it Yunho. Think about what that means. You were happy - everything had gone right in your life. You had everything you ever wanted. You were on the top of the world.”
Yunho’s pacing slowed, then stopped. He turned, slowly, to face her, looking at her weary form on the bed. Her face was guileless, filled with a murky mix of emotions that made Yunho ache just to look at.
It didn’t stop him from shaking his head against her argument however.
“It wasn’t all happy. I had horrible periods of my life as well…” He thought about living under the train station stairs, being so cold he couldn’t feel his body anymore, about the pain in his father’s eyes when he couldn’t look after his family.
“Painful periods that you triumphed over spectacularly, that you made into your strengths and were able to show made you who you were. Painful periods that led you to overwhelming happiness. Just like in a fairy tale.”
Happy, he thought, and then really thought about it.
It wasn’t something he really consciously considered much. Oh, there were moments he knew he was happy, undoubtedly, and he appreciated his success and the success of the band… but… happy.
It was glaringly obvious to himself now, sitting in this horrible white box, with a weathered, aged woman who bore only a passing resemblance to his mother (the same way those men in the picture bore only a passing resemblance to the vibrant young men he knew), that he had been happy. So very happy. Despite all the stress and pressures of his job, the unrelenting schedules, crazy fans and industry snark… he’d been very happy, for almost all of his life since Dong Bang Shin Ki had been conceived.
Their music, the fans, all the people supporting and helping them… all of it had made him happy. And the members made him happiest of all. Jaejoong’s face came to his mind, the soft curve of a wiry, smug smile on his full lips, and suddenly Yunho missed him fiercely; wanting desperately to hold his lover in his arms… fall asleep in his arms and know that he would wake in exactly the same spot, safe in Jaejoong’s embrace.
As much as he loved his parents, for he did, greatly, he had found a new family of his own. One that was, in many ways, so much closer to him then his biological family. They had been through so much together, understood each other so thoroughly, and supported each other unconditionally. When something really went wrong, there were no questions or arguments, just a commitment to work towards a solution, whatever it may entail. That kind of faith and trust had pushed down the barriers between them, and Yunho knew that the bonds he had with the members were the source of his greatest joy.
And now, his mother was telling him it was all an illusion.
That he had achieved nothing, become nothing, and had nothing. He was an insane man in a white room, protected from a world he knew nothing of, with no bonds save the shaky, unfamiliar ones with a mother he’d not spoken to in nine years.
He couldn’t really remember what happened after that. The man in white came back, and his mother was hugging him, and then he thought he might have slept for a while. Another man came after that, staring at him strangely and asking him questions, about what he wanted, about his goals, about focusing on reality and the future.
When Yunho woke up, Jaejoong was there, and Yunho felt like crying just at the sight of him. He was speechless, just staring at the young man in the seat by the bed, until Jaejoong realised he was conscious and leapt up, eyes wide.
Yunho didn’t let him get out a word though, half falling out of the bed in his rush to get to Jaejoong. The older boy caught him, wrapping his arms around Yunho tightly and nudging him back on the bed, all the while hugging him back every inch as hard as Yunho was hugging him.
Yunho buried his head into the crook of Jaejoong’s neck, breathing in his scent and just feeling the solid reality of the body against his. Jaejoong was real, something in his head screamed gleefully, like it had ever been in doubt. His grip tightened, fingers clawing into Jaejoong’s back as he whimpered almost inaudibly.
“Baby? Jesus, Yunho… it’s okay baby, it’s okay…” Jaejoong whispered, trying to sooth the frantic-seeming man. It was scary, seeing the usually unflappable Yunho so completely lost.
Kissing the top of Yunho’s hair, rubbing small circles on the heaving back, Jaejoong kept up a quiet litany of soft, soothing nonsense; just hoping that Yunho would calm down.
Eventually, Yunho’s panic seemed to subside a little. Enough for him to breathe properly, to pull back enough to cup Jaejoong’s face and trace over all the bigger-then-life features that popped up so vividly on the flesh and blood man before him. Jaejoong here was a far cry from the faded photos of the other place. Jaejoong’s hands and face were solid and warm under his touch, his eyes reflecting worry and love and so much more, and Yunho nearly started crying again for the relief of it.
“I’m going insane, Jaejoongie… I think I’m loosing my mind.” He whispered, completely stricken.
Jaejoong wiped away the damp tear tracks from his cheeks and kissed the cleared skin gently. “You’re not. I won’t let you, Yunho. I won’t let you.”
Yunho surged forward, needing more solid reassurance, and kissed Jaejoong desperately. Jaejoong, bewildered, submitted to the forceful touch, responding as he could as Yunho invaded his mouth. Yunho’s hands slid down to curl around Jaejoong’s neck, holding him steady as they kissed. He didn’t care that someone could walk in any moment and see them, didn’t care for anything at that moment except for Jaejoong.
“I don’t want to leave you.” He whispered as they parted, leaning his forehead against Jaejoong’s and closing his eyes. Jaejoong gripped his arm tightly in alarm.
“You’re not going anywhere Yunho. You’re not!” Jaejoong hissed forcefully, nails digging into his arm. “Now tell me what’s going on!”
It took a long while for Yunho to compose himself enough to begin. Jaejoong had crawled onto the bed beside him, neither of them quite willing to let each other go. Yunho was terrified of some how slipping into the other world, while Jaejoong was terrified about how desperate Yunho seemed, and how the gaps between his wakefulness seemed to be getting longer instead of shorter.
“Talk to me, Yunho.” He repeated, softly, as they faced each other on the pillow, faces only inches apart while their bodies twined.
Yunho gulped, and began.
Began with his first dream, the white room and the man. Told Jaejoong of his not-mother, and the things she’d told him. Told Jaejoong that he thought he must be going crazy, because it had somehow started to make a horrid kind of sense. He didn’t want to believe, he didn’t, but something in his mind wouldn’t let go of it.
“I’m real Yunho. I am.” Jaejoong whispered, after he’d finished, and pressed their lips together again briefly. “I’m real, and so is the band, and you are most definitely Uknow Yunho, our fearless leadershii.” It was stupid, but somehow those words reassured Yunho. Even if apparitions would make such a claim, it felt good to hear.
“There’s something wrong, Yunho, there is… but you’re not making us up. The doctors are going to do a brain scan or something, to find out what’s wrong. We’ll get through this, okay?” Jaejoong said, voice steady, even though his eyes were shining with moisture and he couldn’t hide his worry.
“We’ll get through this. Anything, together, right?” Jaejoong repeated, and Yunho let out a slow sigh of breath, wanting to believe it so badly. He gave Jaejoong a small smile.
“Anything.” He reiterated. Then Jaejoong pressed the nurse’s button, and reluctantly slid off the bed, pressing on last kiss on his lips before people bustled into the room. As the nurses wheeled him out the door to where the MRI machine was, Jaejoong gave him an encouraging smile before being swept from sight.
Yunho passed out while the machine was taking images, falling into blackness.
He’d had another session with the man that called himself a therapist.
It was so frustrating though, and by the end of the ‘session’, Yunho had felt like strangling the ever patient, totally placid man, just for the completely condescending way he spoke and the inane questions he’d asked.
“Are you happy?” The man had inquired, and Yunho had looked at him like he was crazy.
They’d had to see a stress psychologist sometimes - management wanting them to be checked up on every once and a while ‘just in case’, but it was nothing like this. The SM employed psychologist was a friendly young woman who just asked them about how they were feeling, what they were doing to relax and such.
This shrink was nothing like that. He sat there in his white coat, staring at Yunho like the extra scrutiny would unearth some deep seated problem that was causing this all to happen. Yunho felt like the man should have been peering over a set of glasses, but he’d found out that virtually everyone now had either corrective surgery or was ‘fixed’ from birth. The whole idea seemed creepy to him, but who was he to argue with progress. Either way though, it gave Yunho the unsettling feeling of being scrutinised under a microscope like a bug, and he felt disinclined to talk about the weather with the man, let alone discuss any underlying trauma he had.
He’d been so very relieved when the man had left, even if he had provided a brief respite to the boredom of the white room. There was, really, nothing to do in it. Not even a window to look out. Instead, he lay back down on the bed (sheet-less as it was) and thought.
Mainly, he thought about the differences between the two ‘realities’. He was doing that a lot recently, no matter which place he was in. There was something very wrong with him, he knew, but he still had very little clue as to what it was.
Either, he was starting to go crazy - becoming deluded and imagining things, whole worlds, that did not exist… or, he had been crazy for nine years already, and was still bordering on the insane as he dipped in and out of his meticulously crafted fantasies. Neither option was appealing; however one of them was the reality.
Which world was real? Which did he want to be real?
He’d started making lists. He did that with many hard decisions he had to make, creating a list of pros and cons and figuring out what the facts were. He wasn’t like Jaejoong, who worked nearly purely on instinct with very little foresight or planning (an approach which often drove him to complete distraction, with how wild and unpredictable the lead singer could be. In their profession, they could ill afford unpredictability. Yet, it was also one of the many things Yunho loved about the fiery young man). Yunho liked to know exactly what his options were and exactly what the situation was.
The problem, he found however, was that he didn’t trust himself. The knowledge that he was unbalanced to some level meant that he wasn’t sure that anything he put on those mental lists was valid. Or that he was functioning well enough to make sensible use of the lists.
Having nothing better to do however, gave him enough reason to at least try. He started thinking about the arguments for each case, about what was plausible and what made more sense. He also thought about which one he’d rather be true.
He didn’t really like what he came up with however, finding that what made more sense did not match up with his own choice of realities.
He woke up in hospital, but there was nobody else around. He wanted to get up, call a nurse, but he found himself drifting… unable to connect. There were big brain scan pictures hung on the wall, and he fuzzily wondered if they were his own. There’s something wrong, Jaejoong had said, but Yunho couldn’t make head or tale of what was shown in the pictures.
Jaejoong, he thought, needily. Where are you? He’d drifted back off into a reluctant sleep before he could find an answer.
There were people talking in the room, their hushed voices still very audible in the enclosed space.
“His mind is still not dealing properly with reality.” A male voice said. “He’s trying to fight himself over what he believes is real.”
“But how long will it take? When will he come back, for good?” The female voice was anxious, and Yunho knew immediately it was his mother.
There was a sigh, and a shuffling noise like someone moving across the floor.
“We can’t say. It’s a good sign that he’s spending more time awake and aware here, and less time in his mind. But the mind is a very fragile, complex thing… it’s very hard to predict how anything will happen in situations like this. All we can keep doing is encouraging him, and reinforce reality. He’s drifting back and forth because he can’t figure out what to believe.” The man said.
Yunho had to stop himself from frowning, lying still in hopes they would say more. The man sounded reassuring and calm, but not so confident. His mother sounded desperate though, as she went on.
“What about the drugs, can’t you give him more, to help him?” The urge to frown increased at the word ‘drugs’. What drugs?! What were they giving him?
“No… we can’t risk it. It’s amazing what the new medication has done for him already. It’s still experimental… you knew from the beginning we’d have to be very careful with it.” The man explained gently, and then there were some more shuffling noises. Someone approached the bed, and as a smaller hand slipped into his own, he knew his mother had sat down beside him. The man sighed, and then Yunho just barely heard the strange, light ‘whooshing’ noise the door made as it appeared.
“I’ll leave you with him then. If he wakes again, keep talking to him. The more he interacts in the real world, the better.” The man said, and then presumably left the room, the whoosh of the door disappearing the only noise in the room for some time.
Yunho didn’t open his eyes though, suddenly not wanting to face his mother and all the hopeful expectation in her face. The grip on his hand increased, and he tensed ever so slightly as he heard his mother begin to cry softly.
Damning himself for being a coward, for being messed up, for not knowing what was right, Yunho lay on the bed still and silent as his mother cried, unable to move. And somehow, selfishly, he prayed that when he woke up, that he would not wake up here.
“He’s awake!” Jaejoong’s joyed exclamation met him as he roused, and he gripped the hand holding his tightly. Opening his eyes, he found the whole band gathered around his bed, including their manager. All of them were looking down at him with wide eyes, Jaejoong sitting on the edge of his bed and holding his hand to his chest.
“Thank god… thank god…” Jaejoong whispered, moving his grip to hug Yunho’s whole arm. Yunho could only smile up at him weakly, drinking in the sight of all the familiar people gathered around his bed.
“I’ll get the doctor.” Their manager said hurriedly, turning to bustle through the door. Changmin closed up the gap he’d left, stepping closer to the bed and laying a hand on Yunho’s blanket-covered calf.
“We thought you weren’t going to wake up again.” Junsu whispered, looking completely stricken.
“How long was I out?” Yunho asked concernedly, wondering just how much time he was spending over in the other place. It seemed to be getting longer and longer each time.
“Two days.” Changmin replied, quietly. “You wouldn’t wake up for two days.” His face was impassive, but Yoochun reached out to put an arm around his shoulders, offering some silent comfort. Yoochun didn’t look to be doing too well himself however, his face pale and drawn looking. The emotionally sensitive young man was obviously strung out by the whole ordeal.
Yunho felt pretty traumatised himself. Two days?! He couldn’t have been gone that long…! Turning his head to try and seek confirmation from Junsu and Jaejoong, he realised to his horror that there were nodule things attached to his head, with wires laid out over his pillow. His eyes widened, and he felt his breath shortening.
“Breathe Yunho!” Junsu snapped the command, and Jaejoong squeezed harder on his arm, reaching out with his other hand to press against Yunho’s chest. Yunho was quite sure he would have been able to feel the thundering of his heart.
“Calm down Yunho, it’s okay, you’re okay.” Jaejoong said, and Yunho locked onto his face as an anchor. His lover smiled, a little tremulously, and Yunho managed to take hold of himself enough to creep his free hand over to rest it over Jaejoong’s, tangling their fingers there together as well.
“Why… why do I have these things…?” He asked, brokenly. He couldn’t think of the words he wanted to use, and the inability to speak caused him to panic further. He didn’t get too much of a chance however, before the door opened, and their manager and a doctor strode through. Jaejoong let go of one of his hands, but stubbornly clung to the other one, thumb stroking over Yunho’s skin in an effort to reassure.
“We put them on you to monitor your brainwaves. You gave us quite a scare there, Mr Jung.” The doctor said, coming to one side of his bed. Changmin and Yoochun shuffled out of the way, allowing the man to look at the screens set up there. The doctor turned the table a little, so that the display was visible to Yunho.
“You see here?” He said, pointing to a disturbingly flat bit of readout. “You went nearly brain dead there - very much like a coma patient.” His finger slid along the line, to where it suddenly spiked. “And this is what your brain is doing now. Quite the difference.” Yunho gaped at him.
“I went… brain dead?!” He breathed out, disbelieving. “What… what the hell is wrong with me?” He asked, in a whisper. Jaejoong squeezed his hand again, but Yunho’s eyes never left the doctor.
The man sighed, turning weary eyes on Yunho.
“To be honest, Mr Jung, we don’t know. The brain is such a complicated organism, we’ve barely scraped the surface of what it does and what it can do. Your case is… rather abnormal, and we can’t tell what’s happening.” The man explained.
“What?! You can’t do anything?!” It was Jaejoong that made the outburst, and as Yunho looked over at him, throat closed over too far to make his own protests, he saw the stricken expression of his lover. Jaejoong was obviously torn between fear and anger, his grip near crushing Yunho’s hand.
“I’m afraid, given that we don’t know - ” The doctor began, but was quickly shot down by Jaejoong, who rose from his perch abruptly.
“No! You have to do something! What if it happens again? What if next time, he doesn’t wake up again?!” Jaejoong yelled.
“Jaejoong…” Their manager stepped forward, trying to push Jaejoong back down to sit on the bed. Jaejoong struggled though, not wanting to give in.
“Hyung’s right. There has to be something!” Changmin piped up, face hard. Yoochun had begun crying, and this time it was Changmin who put a comforting arm over the older boy. “We can’t just sit back and see what happens!”
“Unfortunately, we can’t treat what we don’t understand. The MRI showed nothing abnormal, even given that he passed out during it. The scans just showed a completely awake person, and then a deeply asleep one. There’s no indication of trauma, or swelling, or even an abnormal growth like cancer. There’s nothing wrong with his brain that we can see at all.” The doctor defended himself.
Jaejoong looked fit to burst, and Junsu began arguing with the doctor, with injections from Changmin when he thought of something to add. Their manager hovered worriedly on the side, looking incredibly pensive.
Yunho however, couldn’t think of anything to say. Nothing wrong with his brain.There was nothing wrong with his brain. He felt himself fading, and struggled desperately against it.
“No!” The word was barely breathed out, and lost to the argument going on over his bed. Jaejoong turned, just in time to see his eyes beginning to close. Yunho thought his lover must have screamed then, a loud noise accompanying him into darkness.
“I love you…” He tried to say, but he never knew if the words left his throat.
“What do the doctors in your dream world think is wrong with you?” The therapist asked, eyes boring into Yunho once more. The man had taken to calling the other reality a ‘dream world’, which didn’t sit well with Yunho. Yunho scowled at him, also not liking what the man was trying to get him to do.
“Just because they don’t know doesn’t mean they don’t exist.” He replied rather hotly. “Maybe it’s some weird brain thing they can’t detect.”
“You should think more positively, Yunho. The brain is very powerful… but you need to be the one in control of it. It’s your will, and your belief that will pull you through.” The man counselled, although Yunho was not so receptive of his words, and merely grunted in reply. He hated that he was so awake here, so aware, when he couldn’t even get himself to sit up and hug Jaejoong last time he’d been there. That he’d passed out again so quickly and ended up here again. His time there had been getting shorter and shorter, and he’d woken up in the white room for three days in a row now.
They lapsed into silence for a moment, the therapist eyeing him with pursed lips. Yunho stared back sullenly.
“Did you talk to your mother about your family?” The therapist eventually asked. Yunho’s gaze dropped to the ground.
“Yes. They’re fine, in both places. I’m glad JiHye’s okay. I am.” Yunho replied, slowly. He’d talked to his mother, a slow halting conversation mainly about JiHye’s accomplishments at school. It had been awkward, but relieving at the same time.
“Don’t you think you should be with your loved ones?” The man asked him then, and Yunho startled, the question turning in his mind oddly. He tried to sort out why it made him feel so strange, but couldn’t put his finger on it.
“They’re doing fine without me. They always have.” He said instead, rather proudly.
It was not til after the therapist left that Yunho realised what he’d said.
His mother was sad, upset at his situation. He’d brought her a lot of pain in the past… and now, perhaps even more pain by ‘waking up’ like this, forcing her through trying to talk down an estranged, deranged son; forcing her to hope for recovery, to hope that the waiting hadn’t been in vain. Perhaps it would have been easier for her if he’d died in the accident. Nine years… nine years, to this.
She didn’t need him. No more then JiHye or his father did. He should have died a long time ago, left them to mourn and then move on. There was no one here for him anymore. This place, where Dong Bang Shin Ki was a forgotten memory, left to fading magazines and old CDs. Where Uknow Yunho never existed. Where Jaejoong had never loved him, had never even known him. A place where he had no dreams, no goals, no life.
His dreams weren’t here anymore.
As he stood, stunned by his realisation, in the middle of the room, the wall cracked open, and the door appeared, along with his mother.
Her eyebrows furrowed as she saw him standing there like that, with such a strange expression on is face.
“Yunho?” She asked, stepping forward.
“Mother.” He said, and for the first time in such a long time, he felt sure. “Mother… I’m so sorry. And thank you. I love you.”
Her eyes widened, shock registering on her face. He smiled at her, beatific, and then closed his eyes, concentrating.
“Are you happy?”
“You have to go after your dreams.”
“You should be with your loved ones.”
“They obviously care about you a lot.”
“I love you.”
“I love you… please come back… please…” The whispers were soft, like faint breaths of wind against his cheek. Jaejoong’s warm hand was holding his, and the smell of him filled the air. Yunho took a deep breath, opening his eyes. Above him, the generic lights of the hospital flickered, buzzing quietly in the silence.
Yunho smiled, and turned his head.
In a white room, a young man’s body collapsed to the floor; his mother an instant too late to catch him as she lunged forward, a scream choking in her throat.
His face was slack, smiling blankly at the ceiling, and she cradled his head in her lap, sobbing soundlessly.
A man in a white coat came rushing into the room, kneeling beside the pair. He pulled a small hand held device from his pocket, holding it over the young man’s forehead. It beeped, forlornly, and the man looked up at the woman sadly.
“I’m sorry… he’s gone.” Was all he said. Her body shook as she cried, but she nodded slightly in understanding. She’d already known, known as soon as he’d smiled at her like that. Her baby boy was gone again, and he wouldn’t be coming back this time.
She leaned down, burying her head into his hair and holding him tightly, his warm body held tightly against her.
Neither the man nor the woman saw the smile that crept across the young man’s face, nor the way his lips parted ever so slightly, a sigh of contentment easing out of his lungs.
“I’m home, Jaejoong.”