It’d been a long day. That’s all Scoups could think about as he entered the dance practice studio at seven in the evening. Everything had gone wrong that day - not anything disastrous, just all the little things that tended to build up. From the members getting into more squabbles than usual to schedules being switched around or added at the very last minute, or managers calling in sick so Scoups had to rearrange schedules and urgent group transportation by himself. Scoups felt a little embarrassed for being so grumpy. It just sometimes felt like the world ending might be a little more fun than these kinds of days. 

But the show must go on, unfortunately for Seventeen. So when the members straggled in one by one, later and grumpier than usual to practice, he just took it in his stride. That is, until he takes a head count and finds the group one person short, nearly forty five minutes after practice was supposed to start. 

“Who are we missing?” Scoups sighed, massaging his temples. Everyone looked around - having a thirteen person group made it surprisingly difficult sometimes to keep track.

“Hyung, I think Jeonghan-hyung is missing. I haven’t seen him today at all.” Seungkwan calls out from where he stands near the door, iced americano in hand. Great. Just great. 

“Does anyone know where he is? Has anyone been in contact with him today?” Scoups asked. All he got in response was shaking heads. Scoups pulled out his phone, checking his messages with the vocalist. Nothing since last night. Suppressing a frustrated groan, he gives Jeonghan a call. And… nothing. He tried a couple more times. Still, just ringing until the robot voice started asking for voicemail. This didn’t seem quite right. Swallowing back the rising concern, Scoups addressed the group. 

“I can’t get a hold of him. Dino, you know the choreography, right?” Scoups pointed at the dancer, who nodded, walking up to the front of the group. Scoups grabbed his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. “I’m gonna go get Jeonghan. I’ll be back. Just practice, and for the love of god, don’t fight!” The last part was practically pleading as he walked out of the door, leaving the members concerned and grumpy to deal with it themselves. 

The commute to Jeonghan’s dorm he shares with Seungkwan was short, but tense. It’s not like Jeonghan to just not show up to a schedule. Even if he was sick, he either came anyway (much to the leader’s chagrin) or let him and the managers know beforehand. 

Softly at first, Scoups knocked on the front door. “Hannie? It’s Coups.” No response. He knocked harder. “Hannie? Are you in there? Why didn’t you come to practice?” Still nothing. Scoups practically pounded on the door. “Hannie? You’re worrying me, please answer!”

Then, something. The faint sound of rustling from inside the house, the sound of heavy, trudging footsteps. The door opened slowly to reveal Jeonghan. He was wearing a large pajama shirt and pants, but the fabric clung to his frame like it was wet. So did his hair, shiny with what must have been sweat, strands sticking to his flushed skin. His gaze, hazy and unfocused, landed somewhere around Scoups’ face. When he spoke, his voice came out hoarse and quiet.

“Coups-ya?” Jeonghan hardly got the name out before he tipped forward, his legs crumpling beneath him. With a panicked gasp, Scoups managed to get his arms under Jeonghan’s, staggering slightly under the sudden weight. 

“Hannie? Hannie?” Scoups’ voice shook as he shook the vocalist softly, trying to get a response out of him. He groaned in worry and frustration, half-carrying and half-dragging Jeonghan inside to lay on the couch. He shook Jeonghan’s shoulders. 

“Hannie? Hannie, can you hear me?” Scoups called. He patted the man’s cheek, only to be startled by the sheer heat radiating off of his skin. Hurriedly, he palmed Jeonghan’s forehead. He was burning up. “Shit. Come on, Hannie…” 

“Ngh…” Jeonghan groaned softly. His eyes remained closed, but Scoups relaxed slightly. 

“Hannie…” Scoups sighed, brows knitted together in concern. Okay, okay. What now? It’s definitely a fever, and a high one. Whether it was high enough to go to the hospital was another question. Scoups got up, searching drawers for a thermometer. He called Seungkwan while he was at it, trying to tamp down the slight panic he was feeling. No need to worry the members when he wasn’t even sure what was going on yet. Seungkwan picked up on the third ring, sounding out of breath. Well, at least they were practicing, Scoups tried to tell himself.

“Hyung? What’s going on? Did you find Jeonghan-hyung?” Seungkwan asked all at once, panting. 

“I did. I’ll tell you more later, but I need to know where you keep your thermometer.” Scoups said as he rummaged through another drawer. 

“Thermometer? Is Jeonghan-hyung sick? Do you need help?” Seungkwan asked. 

“Kwannie. The thermometer. Where is it?”

“Bathroom cupboard, above the toilet, left side in a blue case. Is everything okay, hyung?” Seungkwan insisted, concern evident in his tone. Scoups immediately hurried to the bathroom, quickly finding the thermometer.

“I’m sorry, Kwannie. I’m kind of busy right now. Don’t worry, I’ve got things handled. Hannie’s got a fever. Don’t come home yet, and tell everyone else to stay away for now too, I don’t want anyone else to get sick.” As he spoke, Scoups cleaned off the thermometer before hurrying back to the couch and gently sticking it under the sick man’s tongue. “I’ll call if I need help, okay? You guys just focus on practice for now - we’ve got to have that dance memorized by Friday anyways.”

“Okay…” Seungkwan relented. Scoups could just about see his reluctant frown over the phone. “We’ll be here if you need us. Please call if you need anything.”

“Mm. Thanks, Seungkwan-ah.” Scoups hung up, then took Jeonghan’s hand as he waited for the familiar beep of the thermometer. When it finally came, he took the thermometer out of Jeonghan’s mouth to read it. 

“Oh Hannie… 39.6 is not good.” Scoups bit his lip, tossing the thermometer on the table. He gave Jeonghan’s hand a squeeze before gathering supplies. New pajamas, a pillow and light blanket from Jeonghan’s bedroom, a bowl of cold water and a cloth, fever reducers, and a water bottle. 

Jeonghan seemed somewhere between asleep and awake. He shivered, making small noises of complaint and blinking slowly up at Scoups as he gently helped him out of the sweat-soaked pajamas and into clean ones. 

“Coups-ya…” Jeonghan mumbled as Scoups sponged his forehead with a cool washcloth. “Why are you here?” 

“Are you more awake now?” Scoups asked, immediately perking up at the sound of a slightly more aware Jeonghan. He sighed, running his hands through his hair in worry. “Why didn’t you say anything? You’re really sick, Hannie. You should have told Seungkwan this morning or messaged me or one of the members.”

Jeonghan squinted, brows furrowed in confusion. He blinked hard as if trying to clear his vision. “But Coups-ya, I did…. I messaged you…” He reached for his phone, which Scoups had retrieved earlier and put on the coffee table next to the couch. Fumbling with shaky hands, Jeonghan turned it on and put it in Scoups’ lap before curling back up underneath the blanket, shivering. “See?”

Scoups was confused. He never got any messages, and the members would have said something, right? Was there something wrong with his phone? But all these questions running through his mind were stopped once he saw what Jeonghan was trying to show him. It seems that in his delirium, Jeonghan mistook the notes app for the messaging app. There are almost twenty messages written on a file in the notes app, all of them increasingly worried and hurt, thinking he was being ignored. 

Scoups stared at the phone, confusion giving way to disbelief. “You’ve been… trying to send me notes? Like this? In the notes app?” He scrolled through all the different messages, his heart aching for the anxiety and sadness in each message. Jeonghan must have been lonely, suffering by himself and seemingly being ignored. 

“Jeonghan-ah…” Scoups was lost for words, filled with pity for the vocalist. He sighed, setting the phone back down on the coffee table. He tucked the blanket around Jeonghan’s shivering form. “Just rest now, okay? I’m here now.”

Jeonghan seemed a little resistant, feverishly emotional. “I messaged you, I did… I’m sorry…”

Scoups smiled sadly. “I know, I know. Don’t worry. You really think I would ever ignore you on purpose? Dummy…” 

Jeonghan must have been feeling very sensitive, and tears almost immediately welled up in his eyes. “I’m sorry… I know I’m a dummy…”

“Oh, no, Hannie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that…” Scoups panicked, caught off guard. He squeezed Jeonghan’s arms, guiding him to relax. “I’m just worried, that’s all.”

Jeonghan suddenly coughed, the raspy, dry sound forcing its way out. Scoups quickly helped him sit up in hopes of making it easier to breathe. 

“Can you drink a little for me?” He asked once Jeonghan managed to stop coughing. The sick man nodded weakly in response. Scoups opened the water bottle and carefully tipped it back into Jeonghan’s mouth. He took a few sips, wincing, then he was done. With Jeonghan’s upper body draped over his shoulder, Scoups reached for an extra pillow or two from the chair beside the couch. He fluffed it up, then gently arranged Jeonghan in the middle of them all, propped up as comfortably as possible. But as Scoups leaned away from him, Jeonghan grabbed his arm. 

“What is it?” Scoups asked. But Jeonghan’s eyes were half closed, and he just made a pitiful whine as he weakly tugged Scoups back towards him. 

“You want a hug?” Scoups smiled sadly. “No problem. Come here.” He carefully got on the couch to avoid jostling Jeonghan too much. Gingerly, he wrapped Jeonghan into a hug, one hand holding Jeonghan’s head close to his chest. 

Immediately, Jeonghan relaxed a little, tears of relief leaking out of his closed eyes. As they dampened Scoups’ shirt, the leader frowned at the sensation. He held Jeonghan closer, rocking back and forth slightly. 

“You’re really sick, huh?” Scoups whispered, the air from his voice ruffling Jeonghan’s hair ever so slightly. As they cuddled, he only murmured soft words of comfort every now and then, when Jeonghan shivered or moaned softly. It wasn’t too long before Jeonghan fell asleep, his head nuzzled in the crook of Scoups’ neck. Scoups tensed up, refusing to move in fear of disturbing the sick vocalist’s peace. 

After a few hours, Jeonghan’s fever finally broke. He slept fitfully, but never woke completely, even as his fever flushed skin lost its sickly pink sheen. Eventually, he opened his eyes, relaxed at first by the embrace, but quickly disoriented. 

“Coups? What…?” Jeonghan mumbled, squinting up at the leader. 

“Good morning, Hannie. You’re awake?” Scoups sighed in relief. “You scared me, you know. You’ve been pretty sick. How are you feeling?” 

Jeonghan groaned softly as he reluctantly extricated himself from Scoups’ embrace. The cool air sent goosebumps across his skin, slightly clammy from the aftermath of a fever. But once he got a look at Scoups’ shirt, practically soaked from his sweat and tears, he immediately sat up straight, feeling sheepish. “I’m sorry, I’ve ruined your shirt…”

Scoups glanced down but quickly waved it off. “It’s fine. Just needs a wash is all. Don’t apologize, you’ve been really out of it.”

“Ah…” Jeonghan groaned, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palm. “I can’t remember. Uh… I remember waking up sick and messaging you, but after that… When did you get here? How long has it been?”

Scoups let out a small huff of laughter, confusing Jeonghan. Immediately, Scoups felt guilty and sad. It truly was awful to think of Jeonghan feverish and alone, but now that he was better, the humor of the situation took the front seat. 

“What? What happened?” Jeonghan said, looking up to watch the leader laugh.

“Ah.. I really shouldn’t be laughing.” Scoups sighed. “It’s terrible, really. But now it’s over, I have to be honest, it’s a little funny.” He gestured for Jeonghan to hand him his phone. “Hand me your phone, I’ll show you.”

Jeonghan obeyed, brow furrowed in confusion. “What is it?”

Scoups opened the notes app, showing the “messages” to Jeonghan. Jeonghan’s eyes widened, and he grabbed the phone, immediately scrolling through all the messages before groaning, burying his face in his hands. 

“Wow… I really thought I was using the messaging app. Seriously…” Jeonghan groaned, but he couldn’t help laughing a little too. 

Seeing Jeonghan laugh at the situation, Scoups thought his smile could have outshone the sun. He joined in on the laughter too, part relief, part genuine humor. 

“You won’t tell the members, will you?” Jeonghan whined, though Scoups could see a gleam of mischief in his eyes. “I’ll never live it down.”

This is such a headache, was all Jongho could think. In more ways than one. Besides the real headache he had woken up with along with horrible nausea that left him stranded in the bathroom for an hour before everyone else woke up, Ateez was sitting in a stuffy meeting room, and Hongjoong was arguing with their manager about their comeback schedule.

“I’m telling you, hyung, it’s too much. It’s impossible to get everything done before the comeback date. We’re already crunched as it is, we have to push it back.” Hongjoong argued, standing up from his chair. 

“I’m aware this is a little tight. But I’m sure all you have to do is pick up the pace a little and it’ll be fine.” Their manager pressed, massaging his temples.

“A little tight?” Seonghwa interrupted. “Hyung, this pace. It’s inhuman.”

“The CEO seems to think it’s fine.” The manager said, splaying his hands as if to say it wasn’t up to him.

“Well, the CEO isn’t the one writing and producing songs, choreographing, practicing, performing, and shooting videos, hyung, so I don’t think his opinion matters.” Hongjoong snapped.

The manager threw his hands up in the air as Hongjoong argued. Jongho sighed, burying his face in his hands.

A few hours later, Ateez was on their way to dance practice. Jongho sat in the back of the van, trying to calm his frenzied stomach. The rest of Ateez all looked stressed and exhausted, most of them falling asleep in their seats. Ever since there had been a mix-up with some bookings that set Ateez’s schedule behind by nearly three weeks, they had been playing a game of catch-up. Now, with the comeback date that they were already dreading being pushed up even earlier than they were initially told, they were starting to panic. Hongjoong especially. 

Jongho swallowed. His stomach was really not letting up. He was starting to get that peculiar nausea-induced ache underneath his jaw. He closed his eyes, breathing in, and out. In, and out. Just let it pass. Once he got some rest, he was sure it would go away. Please, let it go away.

The van pulled up to the dance studio and the members began to extract themselves from their comfy seats. As Jongho stepped out, he squinted. It was so damn bright out… Suddenly his knee buckled and he stumbled a little. He reached out for something to grab, and found Yeosang’s hand out to help him. He straightened up, feeling a little strange, a little lightheaded. His head… things were a little blurry. His stomach jumped to his throat, and Jongho brought a hand up to his mouth in reflex.

“Jongho-ya, are you okay?” Yeosang asked. Jongho swallowed hard, forcing the nausea to take a backseat. He shook his head, trying to clear that strange feeling.

“I’m fine, hyung, thanks. Just tripped.” Jongho waved it off. He just needed another hour of sleep, that was all. But so did everybody else. Yeosang raised an eyebrow, but didn’t argue. He himself was so tired he could hardly think. 

Ateez filed into the room, but Jongho froze in the doorway as intense nausea washed over him. Shit. Shit. His stomach clenched, twisting in his abdomen.

“Jongho-ya, get a move on,” Mingi urged, his tone irritated. Jongho glanced at the members, swallowing past a lump in his throat. 

“I’ll be back.” He said before leaving as quickly as one could possibly do without running. He could practically hear Mingi roll his eyes, but no one followed. Warm saliva began to pool under Jongho’s tongue, and he broke into a run. 

Finally, he found a bathroom, and he ducked into a stall just in time to get his head over a toilet bowl. He spewed, his partially digested breakfast coming up in waves. He dropped to his knees, leaning on his elbows as he gagged above the murky waters. His eyes began to tear up with the exertion, but eventually it slowed and he was able to sit back and catch his breath. 

“Ugh…” Jongho groaned. He let himself rest for a minute - well, if you could call it rest - on the dingy bathroom floor before he made himself get up. He freshened up a bit in the bathroom before returning. Everyone looked exhausted and irritable. The choreographer all but glared at him. 

“Finally.” Wooyoung sighed, getting up from where he was sitting with his legs splayed out on the floor. Hongjoong shot him a look for being rude, but it was tinged by his exhaustion and didn’t have much impact. Jongho sheepishly took his spot, and they began dancing.

This session was intense. It would have been intense on a good day, and today was not a good day in any sense. Between everyone being exhausted overall from playing catch up, the irritability and emotions stemming from said exhaustion, and the overall sense of grief as they resigned themselves to the fact that they wouldn’t be sleeping until this comeback was over, not one member was doing well. The choreographer didn’t seem to care - his job was to teach the dance and make them memorize it, and that day he did not want to do anything more than that. As the members continued to fumble and forget, the choreographer was increasingly hard on them. Especially Jongho, whose mind was mostly focused on not focusing on the headache and nausea that plagued him. After the third bathroom break where he brought up more of his half digested breakfast, the choreographer snapped.

“Jongho-ssi, what is your problem?” The choreographer stopped the music, turning around to point at him. “I know you can do well. If you aren’t here to work, go home! We can’t be falling behind because of you.” Jongho panted, falling out of step. He stood with his head down as the choreographer scolded him. 

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry.” He said, breathless. “I’ll try harder.” He didn’t even want to bother with an explanation. They were all dealing with exhaustion - it would only sound like an excuse.

“Don’t try, do!” The choreographer huffed. Jongho looked out of the corner of his eye at the other members. Nobody wanted to make eye contact with him or the choreographer. Hongjoong just leaned against the mirror, massaging his temples with his eyes closed.

It was much the same for the rest of the day. Everyone was catching catnaps when they could. Hongjoong came to him after the dance practice to ask if he was okay, but the dark bags under his eyes and the way he seemed to move in slow motion made Jongho feel too guilty to bring up any of his own struggles. He could manage, and that's what mattered. No need to worry the leader with the same shit everybody was dealing with. 

So, the day ended with an air of irritability, and Ateez retired to their rooms. The next day they were due for an early filming session for Wanteez. Hongjoong weakly commanded everyone to get some rest when they arrived home, but no one needed any convincing. Even Wooyoung, who was usually still bouncing off the walls by the end of the day, went to bed with no complaints. 

Jongho wanted nothing more than to get a few hours of blissful rest. But it was not meant to be, and he spent most of the night in the bathroom hanging over the toilet bowl. Thankfully, no one saw him as they were all exhausted enough to sleep without interruption. But he couldn’t help but feel hopeless, sitting there in the dim light of his phone’s flashlight on the cold tile floor. He felt so awful. His head hurt like hell. The nausea was nonstop even though he must have cleared his system twice over. He was so exhausted that his eyes kept sliding shut while he was heaving. He just wanted to stop trying. To let one of his hyungs baby him for once. To not be strong and capable. He cried there, quietly. His tears silently joined the contents of his stomach in that ceramic bowl. 

“Jongho!” Hongjoong’s voice jolted the vocalist awake.

Jongho forced his eyes open, squinting. The leader was standing by his bed, hands on his hips, and the bedroom door was open. The light from the window and the hallway behind him was so bright. It hurt even with his eyes closed.

“Jongho, what time is this? Why are you still in bed? We have to be at the filming location in half an hour!” Hongjoong’s tone wasn’t one of sincere curiosity, but of indignation. Jongho was too exhausted to argue, instead pulling himself out of bed with a mumbled apology. Hongjoong huffed. 

“Why can’t you put in the effort like your hyungs are? We’re all in the van waiting for you. Get out fast.”

“Okay. Sorry, hyung.” Jongho murmured, gripping his stomach. Hongjoong softened ever so slightly. Slightly being the operative word, however. 

“Just… hurry, please. We can’t afford to lose any more time.” With that, Hongjoong left. Jongho was alone. 

Everything hurt. His head. His stomach. His eyes. Just sitting up and facing that hallway light - which was normally actually a bit dim - made his stomach turn and his eyes water. But Hongjoong was right. They had to keep going. So Jongho staggered to his closet, where he opted for a black hoodie and jeans. He got ready as quickly as he could, and he only threw up once. But after he was done heaving over the bedroom trash can, he brushed his teeth and joined the rest of the members in the van.

It was safe to say Jongho was on no one’s good side. Not only was he the cause of them being late to yet another thing, but his frankly impressive skill at masking his symptoms only made it look like he was being careless. Only a few members dozed off during the short commute, but the car ride was silent nonetheless. 

The members arrived at the filming location, quickly unloading and getting their makeup done as fast as possible. Jongho wanted nothing but to lay down on the sidewalk as soon as he stood up, but he forced himself to move faster. He didn’t want them to be any more mad than they already were. 

This episode’s theme was hide and seek. They drew straws to decide on a pair to search for the remaining members - Yunho and Yeosang were picked to seek. There are three rounds - the hiding members are required to change their spot each round. If you are caught, you are given a bracelet with bells on it to wear until the end of the game and released back into the studio to hide again - this time with the disadvantage of making noise every time you move. Those who make it through all three rounds without being caught are given a prize. If no one makes it through without being given a bracelet, the members who were seeking win.

There were cameras set up throughout the studio and everyone was given go-pros so the members didn’t have to worry about hiding a crew member with them. Jongho was exhausted, but still felt a little proud when he made it through two rounds without being caught. He spent most of his time in hiding just trying to keep composure for the camera despite serious stomach cramps,  roiling nausea in the pit of his stomach, and a neck so stiff and painful he could only look straight ahead. In the third round, he was finally caught. 

“Ah! We see your arm!” Yeosang called out gleefully when he spotted Jongho’s elbow peeking out from underneath the staircase. 

“Come on out, you’ve lost!” Yunho added as they hurried down the stairs to catch him. Jongho groaned. Shakily, he stood with one hand on the wall supporting him. His vision was blurry. Everything seemed… far away somehow. This was not right. He staggered out from underneath the staircase. 

“Jongho-ya, we got you, come on!” Yunho celebrated, jingling a bell bracelet in front of his face. But then Yeosang and Yunho noticed Jongho did not look right at all. His cheeks were flushed, his hair, skin and clothes were saturated with sweat. When he looked up at them, his eyes seemed glazed over. 

“Jongho. Are you okay?” Yeosang asked, the victorious smile instantly melting off his face. Jongho wanted to answer. He wanted to say something. But his brain was moving so, so slowly. Had he been here before? The scene before him seemed so familiar. His knees buckled, and he slid down the wall beside him, head hanging. 

“Jongho?” Yunho sounded even more alarmed. Jongho could vaguely hear the sound of them hurrying over to him. 

“Hyung, he doesn’t look okay. He’s as white as a ghost.” Yeosang’s voice shook. “Jongho-ya? Talk to me.”

“Hyungs…” Jongho managed. “I’m sorry…”

Yeosang and Yunho shared a scared look. The maknae was definitely not okay. There was literally sweat dripping from his nose and bangs, and he couldn’t seem to focus on them. Yeosang patted his chest and shoulders, trying to get his attention.

“He’s burning up!” Yunho exclaimed when he palmed his forehead. “What’s wrong with him?” This news came as a surprise to Jongho, who didn’t even realize he had a fever.

“Jongho-ya, look at me.” Yeosang begged, shaking him by the shoulders. Jongho could only limply allow him to do so. 

“Hyung… I can’t… Help me, please…” is all he could manage in his half-conscious state. His stomach suddenly twisted, and Jongho threw up. But without the energy to move or even gag, it just sort of bubbled out of him, dripping down his chin. 

“Help!” Yunho called, trying not to cry. He’d never seen anyone so sick, let alone their own precious maknae. There was the faint sound of a response as the members and staff hurried over. 

“What is it?” Hongjoong asked as he ran in a panic, but stopped short when he saw the scene before him. “Jongho!” Guilt instantly flooded throughout him as he realized Jongho must not have been right all day. 

“He can hardly talk, he can’t move. Hyung, please, you have to call 119.” Yeosang said, tears freely flowing down his face.

“Uh, hyung?” Yunho called out, sounding terrified. Jongho was fully unconscious now, and his limbs flailed as he started to seize. Everyone looked to him and they could only watch his shaking form as his back arched off the floor. Hongjoong hurried to his side, not sure what to do but knowing he wanted to do something to help.

One of the staff members was on the phone with emergency services, and her voice shook a bit as she relayed the scene before her. A few moments passed as she listened to the operator, and she started calling out orders. 

“Loosen anything around his neck, and get that camera off of him!” She called, then listened some more as she watched Hongjoong and Seonghwa follow her instructions. “Turn him on his side so he doesn’t choke on his vomit.” 

They did so, and for a few scary moments, he kept seizing. But finally, his tense body started to relax, and soon he was still. It was quiet except for the sniffles from crying members. Hongjoong and Seonghwa waited by his side on the floor with bated breath.

“Ngh…” A small groan was all it was, but for the members it was enough. 

“Jongho! Jongho, can you hear me?” Hongjoong’s voice broke. “Say something if you can.”

“Hyung?” Jongho mumbled. He was still motionless except for his eyes, which he strained to open and look over his shoulder.

“Yes, Jongho, it’s me.” Hongjoong couldn’t say any more before he started to sob.

“Everyone’s here. How do you feel?” Seonghwa managed, carding his fingers through Jongho’s sweaty hair as he looked around dazed and confused. 

Jongho didn’t respond in words, as his stomach answered for him. He gagged weakly, bile dripping out of his open mouth and onto the hardwood floor. He just whimpered, and it broke Seonghwa’s heart to witness him so vulnerable and miserable.

“I’m so sorry..” Hongjoong cried. “I should have realized…”

“We all should have realized.” Seonghwa said, scooting closer to Jongho.

“...‘m so tired…” Jongho mumbled, still confused. “Hyung, what…”

“You’ve got to stay awake, Jongho-ya. Just for a little. The paramedics are on their way, okay?” Hongjoong sniffed, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.

“But ‘m… tired…” Jongho’s eyes began to slide closed. 

“No, you have to stay awake!” Seonghwa shook Jongho, slapping his cheeks as well. But it had no effect. Jongo drifted off into sleep. Only this sleep was still and.. wrong somehow. It was a sickly sort of sleep. 

“Jongho-ya… wake up, please.” Yeosang begged from the sideline, not daring to move as though it would hurt the singer. But Jongho did not respond. Hongjoong quickly found his pulse and watched for the soft rise and fall of working lungs. 

“He’s breathing, and he has a pulse. He’s unconscious.” At these words, a few sobs came from the crowd surrounding them. San clung to Wooyoung and Mingi buried his face into Yunho’s chest. Hongjoong tried to pull himself together. He was the leader, and they needed a leader now more than ever. He rubbed Seonghwa’s back as they sat helplessly waiting for the paramedics to arrive. All he could do was hope and pray Jongho would be okay. 

“They’re here!” A staff member called out as the paramedics burst through the door. Everyone stood back as they did their work to get him onto a stretcher and into the back of the ambulance. 

“Anyone riding with us?” One paramedic asked. Hongjoong raised his hand immediately, and the rest of the members didn’t want to argue. Instead they started loading into the van to follow the leader and maknae to the hospital. 

The back of the ambulance was tense and quiet as they rushed to the hospital. Jongho didn’t wake up, and Hongjoong could do nothing but hold his hand. When they arrived, Ateez was mere seconds behind. The members all watched the ambulance unload their precious cargo and wheel him inside. They followed anxiously, but were forced to stay back when Jongho crossed a set of doors inside. Hongjoong collapsed onto one of the waiting room chairs, his head in his hands. 

“He’s gonna be okay, right?” San didn’t ask anyone in particular, his voice small and uncertain. Yunho just gathered him into a hug.

“It’s my fault.” Hongjoong’s voice broke again. “He wasn’t acting right, I knew it. I was too wrapped up in everything else. I’ve failed him.”

“You didn’t fail him.” Seonghwa said, sitting next to the leader. “We were all too wrapped up in our own problems, and he was good at pretending he was okay. It’s no one’s fault..”

“I should have been better…” Hongjoong insisted. His shoulders shook as he broke down, small whimpers escaping every now and then. Seonghwa just rubbed his back, as silent as the rest of the group. 

No one knew how much longer it was until a doctor finally came back. They waited with bated breath for him to speak.

“Well, I’d like to preface this and say that your friend is stable. You brought him here just in time, and he’s sleeping now.” The doctor said. Everyone in the room let out a breath they didn’t know they were holding. 

“Thank you, doctor. Thank you…” Hongjoong bowed over and over. The doctor reached out a hand to stop him.

“Of course. It’s my job. Now, I’d like to walk you through the treatment. He’ll be here for a while. He has what’s called viral cerebral meningitis. The virus itself is contagious, and usually causes the kind of sickness that might cause you to call off a day of work. But in your friend’s case, it caused inflammation of the layers around his brain and spinal cord. Unfortunately, there’s not much we can do for him to cure it - we can try antiviral medications, but for the most part treatment just consists of helping him manage the symptoms until he naturally recovers. It’s very unusual for a healthy young man like him. I’ve heard your group is under quite a bit of stress lately. I think the combination of stress and a lot of plain old bad luck was what caused this to happen. The good news here is that this will pass, and the likelihood of long-term complications is pretty low for a young man like him. But it will take some time.”

Everyone nodded vigorously. It was such a relief to hear their maknae would be okay. 

“Can we see him?” Seonghwa asked.

“Of course. Just make sure to be quiet and let your friend sleep for as long as he needs. It’ll help him recover faster.” The doctor said. “He’s in room 234. Feel free to stay with him.”

After thanking the doctor profusely, Ateez filed quietly into the hospital room. Jongho was looking much better. He had some healthy color now, and was sleeping peacefully. Ateez found various nooks and crannies around the room to settle into while they waited for him to wake up. Some members piled onto the couch in the corner. Others found places near Jongho’s bed. A couple sat on the windowsill. Hongjoong held Jongho’s hand from his seat in the chair next to Jongho’s bed the whole time, except for when he stepped outside to call his manager. They would be canceling the comeback for the time being - no exceptions. 

A couple of hours later, Jongho stirred. He mumbled something unintelligible, and Ateez surrounded him in an instant. They watched anxiously as he woke. 

The first thing Jongho felt was… rested. Finally. He couldn’t remember the last time he had slept so deeply. He almost didn’t want to open his eyes and instead just basked in that state between asleep and awake. But all too soon, the memories of the day came flooding back to him. Feeling sick and stressed. Filming Wanteez. The last thing he remembered was Yeosang and Yunho looking terrified. So he dragged his eyes open to see… a hospital room?

“Jongho. You’re awake.” Hongjoong sounded emotional. Why was he in a hospital room? 

“Hyung?” Jongho managed past the stickiness of sleep.

“Yeah, it’s me. Everyone is here, Jongho-ya. Are you feeling okay?” Hongjoong asked. Jongho looked around the room, meeting each member’s teary eyes individually. 

“Oh. I’m achy, I guess. But I slept so well. Why is everyone crying?” Jongho asked. Seonghwa couldn’t help but let out a relieved huff of laughter. 

“We were so worried. Do you remember getting sick?” Seonghwa asked. 

“I remember seeing Yunho-hyung and Yeosang-hyung. When they found me.” Jongho squinted, trying to remember. “But that’s all.”

“You had a seizure. You were really, really sick, Jongho-ya. You scared us to death. Why didn’t you say you weren’t feeling well?” Seonghwa reached out to pat Jongho’s thigh. 

“I thought it was just exhaustion. No one was feeling well, hyung.” Jongho explained. But now that his head was clearer - and now that he had the advantage of hindsight - he could see it wasn’t just exhaustion. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“No one’s blaming you, Jongho-ya.” Yeosang assured him. “We just…”

“We just were so worried. We don’t want you - or any of the members - to ever get that sick again.” Hongjoong finished. 

Jongho nodded weakly, unsure what to say under the teary gazes of his hyungs. “Stop looking at me like that, hyungs. It’s embarrassing.”