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Seonghwa let out a long sigh as the illuminated sign signaling for the airplane’s passengers to stay buckled dinged off. They had just completed the last leg of their world tour, the eight of them exhausted to the bone but energized with the feeling of their accomplishments. They were at their career’s height, riding the wave of fame and notoriety; however, in this moment, no amount of fame could compare to the feeling of his bed. Spending a month and a half sleeping on firm hotel beds (more like hotel rocks) gave Seonghwa a deep appreciation for his broken-in mattress and pillowtop cover he’d splurged on as a gift for his last birthday. Even as he pulled his duffle bag from the overhead compartment of the airplane, a small satisfied smile ghosted his lips as he realized he was within reach of his room, his bed, his sanctuary. He’d gotten a new LEGO set on tour, and he was already thinking of places to fit it once he put it together– deciding right then that he would assemble it on a LIVE so that he could share the experience with ATINY... and would also definitely make sure his door was locked so that San couldn’t pull any more of his shenanigans. He quietly chuckled at the memory as it was the group’s turn to exit the plane. As if they’d been summoned from his mind, his daydream was cut off by the excited gasps and loud yelling of their fans as he stepped off the jetway into Incheon’s terminal. He put aside his exhaustion and pulled his posture up a bit straighter as he gave small waves to the crowd.
As they began to make their way through the terminal, Seonghwa tried to balance keeping pace with the rest of the group as well as acknowledging the myriad of cameras that were constantly getting shoved in their faces and the consistent screaming of their fans. Seonghwa was turning away from waving to a group of ATINY when a man, clad in a black mask and low positioned baseball hat, collided straight into him. How he had gotten past the practically impenetrable circle their staff created around the group, he had no clue. The impact had caught Seonghwa off guard, stumbling slightly back into the arms of his personal guard, an apology already forming with what he assumed to be a freak collision. It happened in an instant, quick enough that it was easily brushed off as an accident by both the idol and the group’s security personnel. The apology, however, died on Seonghwa’s tongue when he felt something… strange. A burning, stinging pain in his stomach that almost took his breath away. As quickly as the man made contact with the idol, he was roughly pulled away by one of the security guards and moved back into the sea of fans and paparazzi. The group as a whole never stopped moving, their personnel attempting to get the idols to their van as quickly as possible.
It wasn’t until they took a few more steps forward that Seonghwa’s frazzled brain began to alert him to the fact that something was terribly wrong. The burning feeling on his stomach made him stumble a bit, hand going down instinctively to probe for the source of the pain. The moment he touched his shirt his brows furrowed. Why was it wet? And sticky? And… oh. He inhaled a shuddered breath as he looked down at the hand that he pulled away from his abdomen.
Blood.
The screams of the crowd around him were replaced with a ringing in his ears as he stared at his crimson-stained hand. He’d been… hurt? The realization came to him more as an inquiry than a fact, his mind having a difficult time catching up with reality. That man who ran into Seonghwa had— what, stabbed him? He would’ve laughed at the absurdity of something like this happening to him while surrounded by security and fans if he didn’t feel his breath begin to shorten. He felt hands on his shoulders, gently pushing him along as they made their way to the exit of the airport, their staff too preoccupied with making sure the fans didn’t get too close that they hadn’t realized their worst fears had already happened. Each step turned into agony, jostling the wound that Seonghwa’s mind finally recognized was present. He needed to say something, tell someone, but what he could only assume was shock led him to keep quiet, his mind reeling. Adrenaline coursed through his body, urging him on. They were almost to the exit. Almost to the quiet safety of their van. Almost to his bed. He would deal with– well, this– when they were out of the eye of everyone else.
“Seonghwa, we love you!”
The screams of a few girls to his right caught his attention. Professionalism took over in that moment as he whipped his head over to acknowledge the sentiment, planning to give the group a grateful nod and wave. What kind of idol would he be if he didn’t acknowledge the ones who got them to this position? However, his plan and what actually happened were two different things entirely. The moment Seonghwa turned his head, he felt as if the Earth had tilted on its side, the corners of his vision darkening as he stumbled over his feet– the hands still on his shoulders were his only saving grace in keeping him upright. He took a short breath in and screwed his eyes shut to try and keep his balance.
“Hyung?”
The voice of one of the other members– San, he realized all too slowly– spoke behind him, a tone of concern muffled behind the mask he wore, “You good?”
He momentarily wondered why San had asked, until he realized that he had stopped walking. His stumble must have slowed the group. The guiding hands on his shoulders had moved to his arms to keep him from falling and they must have stopped to let him regain his footing. If he thought he was in pain while moving, standing still without the distraction of the approaching exit was torture. A choked whine left his throat as he curled in on himself slightly, his hand clutching his stomach.
San stepped up to the older member, putting a hand on his shoulder to turn him around, “Hyung? Hey, what’s wrong? What-” San’s voice came a bit more urgently now; however, that inquiry was cut off as he looked to the ground where they stood.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Crimson blood was leaking through Seonghwa’s fingers and onto the white linoleum airport floor.
San’s eyes widened as his eyes slowly lifted from the blood splatter to the source, then up to Seonghwa’s face that he could tell was too pale, even under the mask he himself wore.
San took a startled step back, yelling for their captain who was at the front of their group, his voice pitched up an octave in panic causing the other members to turn their way.
So much for keeping this quiet until they were alone. So much for the van. So much for his bed.
Seonghwa made an attempt to step toward the younger member, his instincts as the eldest kicking in to quell the other’s panic before a gurgled cough bubbled up his throat. He leaned over again, bracing his injured stomach with his arm as he coughed once into his mask. His glossy eyes widened slightly as he haphazardly tugged the mask off, letting the blood-soaked material drop to the ground. In that instance, everything- and everyone- seemed to freeze. Seonghwa looked up from the discarded mask, locking his gaze momentarily with the terror-stricken eyes of their leader. The realization that he was not going to make it to those exit doors zapped what remaining strength he had in his legs, his knees buckling as Hongjoong started pushing through the crowd back toward him.
Chaos erupted.
The circle immediately closed around the group, the majority of the security personnel going into a protective formation that had been practiced countless times but prayed would never have to be implemented. Seonghwa’s personal guard lowered him to the ground, eyes wide with confusion and horror at the one person he was meant to keep safe bleeding out in front of him.
Seonghwa felt protective hands making sure he didn’t drop to the ground and if he could keep a coherent thought, he’d be grateful. If he was going to die, he was glad it wasn’t face first in his own blood. His breaths were coming quicker, in short gasps. The space felt so tight, staff yelling for help, his members circling around him, panic on their faces. Their mouths moved, yet the sound seemed to dampen in Seonghwa’s ears. He finally picked up on one voice cutting through the rest.
“Seonghwa! Move, let me through!” Hongjoong’s voice, strong and commanding like the true captain he was, cut through the noise as he squeezed in between Yunho and another security guard, immediately dropping down on his knees and inspecting the scene. The way Hongjoong’s body tensed told Seonghwa he must’ve been quite the sight, the captain’s hesitant hands ghosting over Seonghwa’s body as if he was afraid that the simplest of touches could make the situation worse. Seonghwa’s eyes drifted up to Wooyoung, his sweet Wooyoungie, watching the scene unfold with tears in his eyes as he was held close to Yeosang’s side. Their eyes locked for a moment as Wooyoung’s breath hitched and he turned quickly to yell again for help. Seonghwa hated that the kids had to see this. He wished security would get them to the van. Wished their fans would get out of here in case the man was still around and dangerous. Wished…
“Hwa, hey—hey, look at me. Look at me, okay?” Hongjoong’s voice appeared calm, though Seonghwa knew him well enough to detect the tremble that laced the ends of his words. Seonghwa tried his best to focus his eyes back on him, whose sharp eyes now turned to the security guard sputtering in panic above them, “what happened to him??”
The guard looked bewildered, an unknowing answer to Hongjoong’s question dying on his lips as Seonghwa tried to speak, “s…s-“ Seonghwa grit his teeth as he found that he was shaking too hard to form the word. When had he gotten so cold? So cold and so tired… He shut his eyes tightly and tried again, focusing, “Stabbed.”
He heard the sound of voices shouting for people to clear the area as paramedics arrived. Seonghwa managed to force his eyes open for only a moment longer, the effort akin to lifting a boulder as his strength left him, slowly losing consciousness. The last thing he perceived was Hongjoong yelling his name with increasing urgency as his mind finally accepted the darkness.
-
A steady and repetitive sound of beeping roused Seonghwa from a dreamless sleep. As he slowly came back to himself, he took a moment to take stock of his body. He was exhausted but what was new, he felt a far away ache in his stomach that appeared to be mostly masked by what he assumed to be some heavy painkillers by the way his mind swam as he tried to concentrate. He felt the starchy stiff material of a hospital gown on his skin and an IV needle in his arm. The next thing noticed was what made him begin to stir enough to crack his eyes open. A hand holding his, small yet strong, brushing their thumb over the skin of his hand in a soothing gesture. Hongjoong.
He must’ve not moved much as he woke up, the captain not yet realizing he was awake. He took advantage of this peaceful moment to scan the room, a small smile spreading on his lips as he saw 6 other figures littering the room, leaning on each other for comfort as they slept in uncomfortable-looking chairs.
His eyes drifted over to Hongjoong, who was awake and looking down at his phone as he appeared to absentmindedly scroll without focusing on anything in particular. He looked tired and anxious, a given by the way Hongjoong chewed on the inside of his lip, his leg bouncing a mile a minute.
Seonghwa squeezed Hongjoong’s hand slightly, causing the younger man to whip his head up to look at him, eyes wide. “Hwa.”
“Shh… don’t wake them.” Seonghwa whispered with a sleepy hint of fondness, looking over at the softly snoring lumps on the other side of the room before looking back at Hongjoong, “am I… okay?”
Hongjoong was quiet for a moment as he took his time scanning Seonghwa’s face. “It was hit or miss for a little while…” Hongjoong spoke softly, his face twisting into an expression that made Seonghwa squeeze his hand again, “they had to rush you into surgery to stop the bleeding, you’d–” he took a shuddered breath, “you’d lost a lot of blood by the time we got here.” Hongjoong seemed to get lost in the memory for a moment before shaking himself out of it, bringing his other hand up to join the first in holding Seonghwa’s hand close, “they were able to patch you up. It’ll take some time to recover, but you’re going to be okay.”
Seonghwa was quiet as Hongjoong spoke, remembering bits and pieces… the man, the panic, the pain…
“Hey.” Seonghwa blinked back to the present as his eyes met Hongjoong’s as he repeated, “you’re going to be okay.” Whether Hongjoong was saying this to Seonghwa or himself, he wasn’t sure. Hongjoong shot him a small tired yet relieved smile. “Rest. You’ll need your strength when the kids wake up, I’m sure.”
Seonghwa met Hongjoong’s smile with a sleepy one of his own, his eyes slowly shutting as he drifted off with the feeling of Hongjoong’s hands securely around his own.
He was safe, that was all he could ask for. He guessed he could hold out for his bed a little longer.