Ateez - Flu - Part 10 (Final Part)
When Hongjoong woke up he felt as if he was coming to from a coma. He hadn’t slept so soundly in a long time, but within seconds he wished that the coma would pull him back under. This flu was wreaking havoc on his body.
He sat up, confirming that Yunho was still asleep before stepping out of his room. All that hydration had left him in need of the washroom but, to his surprise, he found the door closed. Knocking quietly, Hongjoong listened for a response but did not receive one. After another knock met with silence he entered and nearly jumped out of his skin when he found Jongho lying on the washroom floor with a long-dried face cloth draped over his eyes and forehead.
“Jongho” Hongjoong whispered, nudging the maknae’s shoulder as he sank to the ground next to him, too exhausted and poorly to keep standing. Jongho stirred slowly and reached up to toss his compress aside but made no effort to respond to Hongjoong. “What are you doing on the floor, Jongho-ah?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” Jongho responded in the most Jongho way possible, which is not at all what Hongjoong wanted to deal with in the middle of the night while his head was swimming with fever.
“I’m sick, Jongho” Hongjoong responded flatly. “I’m sick and had to use the washroom but here you are, laying in the damn floor. Your turn.”
Jongho sighed before responding. “I woke up with a headache so I got up to take my temperature.”
That was enough to send Hongjoong into hyung mode immediately. “Why didn’t you wake Seonghwa?”
“I can take my own temperature, hyung” Jongho quipped back before continuing. “I’m running a fever” he added nonchalantly. “And the floor was cold, so I just laid down with a cool compress. It’s fine. I’m fine.”
Hongjoong rolled his eyes. This situation was so very Jongho. He was about to inquire about any other symptoms when the door flung open again, this time by Yeosang who nearly face planted, tripping over Jongho’s outstretched legs, as he barreled toward the toilet to be sick again. Jongho reached out an arm to pat Yeosang’s back in silent support but was too weak to do anything beyond that.
It took Yunho less than a minute to appear in the doorway, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. Hongjoong sighed before speaking up, realizing that everybody would be looking toward him to take control despite him being as sick as the rest of them and it being 3:30 AM.
“Yunho-ah, what are you doing out of bed?” He asked, willing his voice not to break as he spoke.
“I heard somebody getting sick. Now I feel queasy again” Yunho replied weakly, sounding half asleep. Hongjoong’s eyes darted to Yeosang, who was still draped over the toilet. He was out of ideas until Jongho acted quickly, reaching over his head and tossing the waste paper bin toward Yunho’s feet. Yunho muttered a weak “thank you” before taking the bin into the hallway and sitting down outside the washroom door. A wave of guilt and pity washed over Hongjoong as he heard his dongsaeng getting sick in the bin but there wasn’t enough room for a fourth member on the washroom floor and he sure as hell wasn’t about to get up from his cozy spot next to Jongho.
“It’s alright. You’re going to be just fine” Hongjoong slurred, unsure if the sentiment was directed more strongly to the others or to himself.
*~*~*~*~*~
Seonghwa woke up to muffled sounds coming from the washroom followed by the sound of retching. For a split second he contemplated rolling over and going back to sleep before he heard another set of feet pattering toward the washroom. Knowing that eldest-hyung duty called, he sat up in bed quickly - perhaps too quickly - his head quickly hitting his pillow again before he even realized that he needed to lie back down. He suddenly felt a shift of pressure in his sinuses.
Dammit.
He was sick.
Unfortunately, so was somebody else based on the cacophony of sounds emanating from outside his closed door. With a deep breath he sat up again, much slower this time, and headed toward the door, bracing himself for what he may find when he opened it.
Seonghwa almost stepped on Yunho as he closed the bedroom door behind him. He knelt down in front of him, giving a light tug on the waste paper basket that Yunho was nearly falling asleep in. Seonghwa placed a hand on Yunho’s cheek, quickly realizing that he was no longer able to very accurately feel for a fever now that he too was running one of his own. Despite his own body being feverishly warm now, he could still tell that Yunho was feeling even warmer.
“Yunho, love, you’re feeling very warm again” Seonghwa said quietly, noticing now how sore his throat was. “Did you forget to take your medication? You haven’t been running this high since it was prescribed…”
Yunho shook his head in response. “I didn’t forget. I didn’t want to take it. It makes me feel funny…”
Seonghwa cut him off, trying to mask the frustration he felt rising in his chest. “You know what else makes you feel funny? A high fever. You seem to be feeling really funny now, hmm? The medicine isn’t optional, Yunho. It’s…” Seonghwa stopped abruptly when a wave of dizziness struck. In the moment it took for him to center himself he took in how absolutely pathetic Yunho looked sitting on the hallway floor. There would be a time to discuss this, but that time was clearly not now. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves before speaking up again.
“Sweetheart, why are you out here in the hallway anyhow?” He asked, his tone much calmer than a moment ago.
“Because they are in there” Yunho said with some effort, indicating vaguely toward the washroom.
“Who? Who’s in there?” Seonghwa asked but Yunho was already beginning to doze off again. There was nothing Seonghwa could do about that at the moment. He couldn’t lift Yunho on a good day, and his running nose suddenly reminded him that this definitely wasn’t a good day. Making a mental note to wake Jongho to have him help Yunho off the floor and back to bed, he slowly opened the washroom door.
So much for that mental note.
Seonghwa felt close to tears. He was in over his head. This flu had done the impossible, taking out eight grown men in the span of a couple of days. Admitting defeat, he unlocked his phone, texting a manager:
“Sorry to wake you hyung. But we need you.”
*~*~*~*~*~
When the manager arrived, not even an hour later, his jaw dropped as he surveyed the scene.
Seonghwa had miraculously gotten everybody off the floor and into the living room. Jongho sat at one end of the sofa, his head resting in his hand as he shivered too violently to make sleep possible. Hongjoong, on the other hand, was curled up into the maknae’s side, having had no trouble at all finding sleep again. Yeosang was stretched out across the middle of the couch with blanket haphazardly draped over his legs that threatened to fall to the floor at any slight movement. Yeosang had left almost no space for Yunho, though Yunho didn’t seem to mind curling up in a tight ball in the small amount of space he did have, in a way that seemed physically impossible for a person of his stature.
The manager almost instantly jumped into action. He had years of experience wrangling his own sick kids in addition to sick ATEEZ members, but he struggled to recall a time when seven of the eight were sick at once.
“San, Mingi, and Wooyoung?” He asked quietly, turning to Seonghwa. Seonghwa finished his thought on his behalf.
“Sleeping. Hopefully” Seonghwa supplied helpfully as he stood with his arms crossed across his chest.
“I’ll be honest,” the manager said after a few moments of thought. “I’d like to take anybody with a fever to the hospital. This flu clearly is nothing to mess around with.”
Yeosang piped up at that. “I don’t have a fever, so I don’t need to go” he announced, his tone laced with pride despite not even opening his eyes as he spoke.
The manager turned to Seonghwa, wordlessly looking to fact check Yeosang’s statement. Seonghwa nodded slowly. “He’s telling the truth. I checked his temperature a few times yesterday afternoon and before you got here. Normal temp, somehow.”
Yeosang pulled up the blanket as he snuggled deeper into the couch, content that he’d be able to stay home, but Seonghwa wasn’t finished.
“No fever, but he’s vomited several times. I think he should go.” Seonghwa’s words cut Yeosang like a knife.
“You can’t just change the rules like that, hyung” Yeosang responded with a huff. Seonghwa couldn’t help but smirk at Yeosang’s petulance.
“Well I can. You’re going to have to come with me, kid. I’m sorry” the manager said in response, slowly pulling Yeosang’s blanket off and folding it before stuffing it under his arm. While he was clearly not happy about it, Yeosang sat up, resigned to his fate. “Fine, but it’s still not fair” Yeosang said with a pout.
Yunho was the next to speak up, although his voice was muffled, barely audible as he spoke into the couch cushion.
“What was that, Yunho?” The manager asked as he knelt down in front of him, his voice gentle, knowing that Yunho always needed a little extra care and comfort when he was sick.
“I don’t need to go. I don’t have a fever” he repeated, a little louder this time. The manager sighed, laying a cool hand over the nape of Yunho’s neck. “I don’t think that’s quite true, is it? Hmm?”
Yunho ignored him, relishing in the comfort of his touch before his hand warmed from the contact with Yunho’s fevered skin.
“And your hyung said you were throwing up again? Is that true?” The manager questioned, brushing Yunho’s hair back from his face. Yunho only shrugged. “Let’s get you up, nice and slow” he said, taking his time untangling Yunho’s limbs one by one.
“I don’t see the point in playing games,” Jongho said as the manager helped Yunho sit up. “I have a fever. It’s not high, but it’s a fever. But I also don’t want to end up like that” Jongho said bluntly, gesturing toward Yeosang and Yunho’s end of the couch. He didn’t have to elaborate further. Everybody knew what he meant by that. “So if I have to go, I’ll go.”
The manager signed internally, relieved that at least one member wasn’t putting up a fight.
“Oh, and I mean I’m sure it goes without saying,” Jongho added, level headed as always. “He’s going to have to go.” Jongho looked down at Hongjoong, who had remained fast asleep through the entire conversation.
The manager nodded as he pulled Seonghwa aside. “I’m going to go ahead and take these four.” I’m sure it’s going to take some time to get them checked in and settled.” Seonghwa nodded as the manager continued, pinching the bridge of his nose, a clear indication of his current stress levels. “Call me once the other three are awake. If they wake up still feverish, which they will be, I’m sure, I’ll come back and get them.”
*~*~*~*~*~
Getting Hongjoong, Yunho, Yeosang, and Jongho packed up and into the van with the manager went about as well as Seonghwa had assumed it would. Four overnight bags, four sick men who struggled to take more than a few steps without needing a break, a frazzled manager who was growing more and more concerned by the minute that their van would get towed before they had everybody loaded up, and Seonghwa, who was putting on the show of a lifetime, not wanting to tip anybody off to how sick he was.
Seonghwa drew in a sigh of relief as he put the last of the members’ bags in the trunk, feeling out of breath and weak. Just as he was about to slide the door closed Yunho broke down in tears.
“Hyung, my pillow” he said between sobs. “I forgot my dog pillow.” Seonghwa felt about ready to go upstairs and throw the damned pillow out an open window and hope for the best, but he smiled instead, ruffling Yunho’s hair and assuring him he’d be right back down with it.
*~*~*~*~*~
Seonghwa all but collapsed against the stone pillar at the dorm building’s entryway as the van pulled out of sight. The sun was beginning to peak out, a reminder that San, Mingi, and Wooyoung would be waking soon and he’d be repeating this entire process again.
The energy to go back upstairs was alluding him until a woman emerged from the building. A nurse decked out in scrubs, clearly on her way to work for the day. She looked down at Seonghwa, sitting miserably on the cold concrete in his pajamas.
“Are you okay, honey?” She asked kindly. Seonghwa could feel his cheeks heating up even more than they already were from sheer embarrassment. “Did you lock yourself out?”
Seonghwa shook his head, hopping up regrettably fast to his feet and pulling his key out of the pocket of his sweat pants. “I’m just fine, thank you” he said with a tired smile. “Eventful morning is all.”
The woman smiled as she continued to the parking garage. “Hope the day turns around for you” she added over her shoulder. Seonghwa flashed a friendly wave, knowing that it would only get worse from there.
*~*~*~*~*~
Seonghwa had managed to get another hour or two of sleep on the couch before Mingi woke up.
“It’s so quiet…” Mingi grumbled, running a hand through his hair as Mingi collapsed heavily at the other end of the couch.
“Well, it’s just you, me, San, and Wooyoungie here right now. And San and Woo are still asleep” Seonghwa replied, tip toeing around the matter at hand.
Mingi simply raised his eyebrow, sensing that his hyung had more to say.
“Listen Mingi,” Seonghwa resumed, uncharacteristically frazzled. “Don’t shoot the messenger but manager-hyung was here this morning. He put his foot down, anybody running a fever this morning has to go to the hospital.”
The silence hung heavy for what felt to Seonghwa like an eternity before Mingi replied.
“Well, I’m not going” Mingi said with a shrug. Seonghwa closed his eyes, his head pounding uncontrollably.
“Mingi, I’m sorry but it’s not up to you. Fuck, it’s not even up to me” Seonghwa said but Mingi remained unmoved.
“I’m not Yunho and I’m not Wooyoung. I’m more than capable of taking care of myself…” Mingi was cut off by Seonghwa.
“Mingi that’s mean and uncalled for” he said firmly.
Mingi sighed, relenting. “I didn’t mean it that way. It came out wrong. But I really don’t need to go. My fever is hasn’t gone up.”
“But it hasn’t broken?” Seonghwa asked, locking eyes work Mingi in a way that made it clear that the debate was over.
“No, it hasn’t broken” Mingi replied, rolling his eyes like a spoiled teenager.
“Pack your bag with anything you’ll want at the hospital. You might be there overnight so pack accordingly.” Seonghwa was too tired to scold Mingi when he threw the pillow at the end of the couch to the floor and stormed off to his room, slamming the door behind him, causing the pain behind Seonghwa’s eyes to pulsate.
*~*~*~*~*~
If San and Wooyoung hadn’t been awake before, they certainly were now. San emerged from his room, promptly laying down on the couch and using Seonghwa’s lap as a pillow. They were both silent until San spoke up.
“Wooyoung was talking in his sleep. Asking for his mom” San said with a sigh, covering his eyes with his forearm. “I’m tired, hyung.”
Seonghwa’s heart broke at the fatigue in his voice.
“I heard you tell Mingi we have to go to the hospital. I packed my bag and started Wooyoung’s but…” San’s statement was cut off by a spell of harsh coughs. “I’m sorry, hyung. I felt too weak to finish.”
Seonghwa stroked San’s forehead, trying to comfort him before helping San sit up and laying him back against a pillow. “When did you get so big, my little Sannie-ah?” Seonghwa asked lightly as he draped a blanket over his dongsaeng. “I’ll take care of Wooyoung and get him packed up and ready to go.”
*~*~*~*~*~
Wooyoung was still burrowed into Yunho’s bed when Seonghwa entered. Tears stained his cheeks, confirming to Seonghwa that he, beyond a doubt, was still running a fever. Seonghwa silently took the bag that San had started packing for Wooyoung, to Wooyoung’s own room, adding a cozy sweatshirt that would keep him comfortable in the hospital, as well as his headphones and a few hair clips, knowing that Wooyoung would get restless if his hair was in his face.
He pulled his phone out and sent a text to the manager as promised:
“The kids are up. Ready to get them to the hospital when you are.”
*~*~*~*~*~
The process passed in a blur this time. Seonghwa could tell his fever was up, leaving him feeling like his head was floating as he went through the motions. He left the bickering with Mingi to the manager, confident that he had done his part earlier that morning. San, always feeling like he had something to prove, slung his own bag over his shoulder as well as Wooyoung’s, and headed down to the van, that, once again, the manager was convinced would get towed if they took much longer.
Seonghwa pulled the front door closed, the last one out, carrying Wooyoung on his back after it had become clear that Wooyoung was too dizzy to walk. With the last of his dongsaengs safely buckled into the van, Seonghwa turned to go back inside. It was becoming more apparent that he had a finite window of time to get himself back upstairs and into bed before his body gave up.
The manager was about to pull away when he rolled the window down. “Hwa” he called out, putting the van back in park. “Hongjoong texted me. He’s sharing a room with Yunho. He said Yunho is asking for you.”
Seonghwa tensed at that. He meant it with all the love in the world. He adored each and every one of his dongsaengs with his whole heart and he’d do anything for every single one of them without so much as a moment of delay.
But, in the most loving, caring, concerned way -
Not a fucking chance, Yunho.
And with that, that finite window of time closed on Seonghwa.
“I know you’re exhausted. Being a dad is a lot of work, isn’t it?” the manager said with a good-natured chuckle. “If you want to come for a bit I can bring you back in a few hours.”
Seonghwa felt his breath coming faster.
“I can’t breathe” he mumbled, losing his balance and tripping into the side of the van with a thump.
He was now coughing, gasping for breath. It all happened in slow motion. He looked into the window of the van, seeing Wooyoung sleeping with his head in San’s lap.
Sleep.
That sounded so fucking good right now.
“Hwa!” He heard a voice call out. Strangely it sounded somehow far too loud but also so far away, simultaneously.
“M’ tired, hyung” Seonghwa said with a final sigh, giving in to the immediate need to sleep.
*~*~*~*~*~
It took no time at all for Seonghwa to realize where he was when he came to. The stark white walls and ceiling, the ambient sound of beeping equipment and the overwhelming smell of sanitizer that, even completely congested, was still evident.
Yep. He hand landed himself in the hospital with the rest of the members.
Eight makes one team and all that, I guess.
Seonghwa couldn’t help but feel bitter for a moment. He had made sure everybody else had a soft blanket packed in their bag but here he was, covered in one that felt like paper.
He closed his eyes again, the pain behind his eyes no match for the bright fluorescent lights overhead. That’s when he heard the voice of his manager talking to somebody outside his door. The voices were muffled, which was further compounded by the fact he couldn’t seem to hear very well out of his right ear, but he was able to make out a few words.
“Private room.”
He turned his head, cracking his eyes slightly. He did have a private room. He sighed in relief at that. No members bothering him when all he wanted, no, needed, to do was sleep.
“Bruised shoulder.”
Yeah, that checked out too. His shoulder felt tender where he had made contact with the side of the van before he…before he fell asleep? Passed out? What exactly had happened?
And the last thing he heard before the door opened:
“Sedative.”
Before he could process that a nurse appeased his bedside. He opened his eyes for a moment as she laid a hand over his forehead. It felt far more heavenly than a simple touch had the right to feel. She looked familiar.
“Sorry that the day didn’t turn around.” She stated as she slipped a thermometer probe under his tongue. So that’s where he recognized her from. The parking lot earlier that morning. It beeped in a matter of seconds.
Seonghwa tried to sit up to get a glance at the reading on the box-like device in her hand but was gently pushed back.
“What’s my temp?” He asked, his voice surprisingly gravelly. She sighed with a sad smile, as she injected something into his IV line. She was silent for a moment, concentrating on dosing Seonghwa with the right amount of medication.
“You’ve got a fever, honey” the nurse replied as she released the IV bag and stepped across the room, grabbing an ice pack and wrapping it in a cloth before draping it over Seonghwa’s brow. He could see her lips moving but couldn’t make out what she was saying. She even picked up the thermometer again and showed him the reading but his eyes couldn’t seem to actually make it out. Couldn’t be too bad he supposed. Or maybe, more so, hoped.
Sedative.
That’s right.
“You’re going to feel sleepy. Don’t fight it” he heard the nurse’s voice.
Fight it? After sleepless nights, dealing with endless crying, puking, fainting, sweating, sneezing, coughing, and arguing? No, fighting it didn’t even cross his mind.
