milena_1980: (jaejoong)
[personal profile] milena_1980
Title: Sleeping With Ghosts 16/?
Author: Pandora/[livejournal.com profile] milena_1980
Rating: NC-17 overall
Pairing: JaeChun (main), YooSu, YooMin, JaeHo, HoMin, HyukSu
Genre: AU, Angst, Romance
Warning: Underage sex (17, but, just to be safe); suicidal feelings; references to substance abuse; self-harm
Summary: Soul mates never die
A/N: Another series of connected drabbles/ficlets, this time JaeChun. No specific number of words this time. Not always in chronological order! Title and lyrics from Sleeping With Ghosts by Placebo
A/N2: I apologize for any grammar mistakes, etc. Please let me know if you find anything!! Comments are love and I also appreciate concrit^^





Soulmate dry your eyes

Title: Believe

We're almost there!

The sky feels like it's falling, it's raining so hard you can barely see where you're going. You run, though, and he holds your hand, grasping it tightly, as if afraid that he'll lose you if he lets go. You don't mind: despite all your protests, you can never get enough of his touch.

Thankfully, you know your way home; you rush through the streets, leading him, feeling an amazing rush of adrenaline (though you're not sure why). All you know is that you want to get home (the one place you feel safe enough to want to kiss Jaejoong and never let him go).

The rain doesn't let up; instead, it intensifies, the water loud and heavy. You're almost there, however, you're so close you think you can see your front door.

Come on! you yell over the rain and he laughs behind you.

When you finally make it, you laugh hard. You were half afraid either of you would end up hit by a car, or hurt by some other means. Yet, here you are, standing at your front door, safety and warmth only a few steps away. You're sure he's right next to you as you open the door, but then you look back: he's standing under the rain, eyes closed as he faces the sky. The sight takes your breath away, he's so beautiful, but why . . . ?

Suddenly, he looks at you and smiles, reaching out to you. You can only laugh again, shaking your head.

Come on! he says, grinning.

Hyung! We'll catch cold! Come on!

He smirks, wet dark bangs stuck to his forehead, dark eyes bright. Damn it . . .

He makes a victorious sound as he pulls you to him, hugging you close.

Doesn't this feel amazing? he asks into your ear. You shiver, but you have no time to protest: next thing you know, his lips are pressed to yours and you stop caring about anything else. He holds you tight, he makes you feel good and safe; he makes your heart beat faster with just a glance. You wish you could always be like this, just the two of you, loving each other without a care.

He pulls away too soon for your liking, grinning at you.

I wish every day were just like this, he says. You want to ask why, but you don't. He leans his head on your shoulder and you close your eyes, holding him tight, the rain falling over you.


Title: Past

Go home, she said that night, looking down at you under the night sky, eyes filling with tears. He’ll call you when he’s able to, all right? She tried to be gentle, you remember, even though she had never regarded you positively. You were just her brother's "special" friend, the boy who came over occasionally to a house filled with silence and distrusting glares.

I thought you had gone home, she says now, standing right before you. She looks older, but nearly as pretty as you remember. She was the oldest out of the three young women who still lived at home back then, the only one who seemed to care about Jaejoong (as far as you could see).

How is he? You're exhausted, you've run out of tears already; your chest hurts so much you can barely breathe.

Alive, she answers, sitting next to you. They say he's lucky. He'll recover. She sighs, staring at the floor. Jaejoong was always strong. Suddenly, she laughs derisively. Seems like even Death doesn't want him, no matter what he does.

Nuna, you complain, giving her a hurt look. You're surprised when you see tears running down her face.

I love my brother, she says. I know it never seemed like it, but I love him. She gazes at you. I loved him even when nobody else did.

You swallow hard, ready to ask so many questions, but they won't come out. Your mind is a jumbled mess still.

I've always loved him, you say instead. Back then and now.

She wipes her tears and regards you curiously. What is going through her mind? What does she see when she looks at you? You gaze back, sure the questions are clear on the surface of your eyes; she needs only read them for what they are.

I didn't know he had found you again, she says unexpectedly.

Again?

She nods.

He came back home, maybe a year after he left, she says, looking away from you. He went to your house, but your father said you had left for college and refused to give him an address. She frowns. He came home crying.

Jaejoong went looking for you? The news surprise you.

Nuna, I need to know. You take a deep breath before you speak. What's wrong with him? He doesn't want to tell me . . .

She sighs, wetting her lips.

Our parents thought he would grow out of it. A phase, they called it. She snorts, shaking her head.

It's obviously more than a phase, you tell her, suddenly feeling stronger. His frequent absences to school, and then the way he acted, like he was drunk all the time . . .

But he didn't want to be helped, either
, she says angrily. Once he knew, I wanted to help, but he would refuse, time and time again, he would disappear, leaving me to wonder where the hell he was. She cries harder. Why doesn't he care what he does to everyone around him?

You sigh, patience running thin.

Nuna, what is his problem?

She shakes her head and stands up, visibly upset.

Go home, she tells you.

Nuna! you protest, and you hate how tired, how helpless you feel. Please, tell me something!

He should have told you, she says, chest heaving. You're tired and you need to rest. He'll still be here.

You stand and grab her arm. She returns your gaze, tears running down her face again.

I can't, she says. Not right now.

You watch her walk away, but you can't bring yourself to hate her. It's not her fault that Jaejoong has refused to explain over and over again. You sigh and sit down, letting your head fall forward.

Maybe it's time to go home.


Title: Aftermath

Do you want me to come over?

You sigh, staring up at the ceiling. You've been trying to sleep for hours, but you can't. Maybe you should have accepted Junsu's offer and let him stay with you, or stay up at his place. He has helped you too much already, though, you can't just keep asking for more. So you went home, straight to bed, and that's where you are now.

No, I'm all right, you lied. You thought he would argue, but he insisted only one more time before he let you go (now you wish he had insisted just a bit more). The bathroom is still a mess, the bathtub half filled with reddish water, the floor . . . Just the thought of it all makes you gag, and yet you can't stop thinking about it. Why can't you just close your eyes and not see him, pale, surrounded by red, eyes closed, looking like life had drained from him?

Go home, she told you, just like she did so many years ago. Yunho found you again just minutes later.

I'm going home, he said (you wondered for a full minute where home was, whether it was with Changmin, but you shook the thought off soon enough). Come on, I'll take you back to your place. You look exhausted.

And you were, so exhausted you thought you would fall on your face the second you stood up. But, still, sleep refuses to come.

Fix me, he told you, but you didn't know what to do, what he meant, and how could you? He kept silent, gave you no real clues. What were you supposed to do?

You close your eyes. Really, beating yourself up over this won't help at all. Obviously, there was nothing you could do, and if there was, you missed it entirely. You wish his sister would have allowed you to see him, though. You need to see that yes, he's alive, he's still breathing! Yunho assured you that he was, but it just wasn't enough.

Step heavy, you get up and walk over to the bathroom. You force yourself not to gag as you grab all cleaning utensils and start washing the blood away. If sleep won't come, then at least you won't be useless. Eventually, you stop caring, each stain, each small puddle is nothing. And that's the way you want it to be.

Once you're finished, you somehow find the strength to shower and then you go back to bed.

Sleep still refuses to come.


Title: Reason

Go right ahead, the nurse told you when you returned the next day, and the day after. The first day, you brought him flowers. He was awake, watching TV, or so it seemed. He looked so pale, wrists bandaged nearly up to his elbows.

How are you? you asked, speaking softly. He didn't answer, though. About a week later, he still doesn't.

Today you brought him some fruit—he always loved fresh fruit—put it on the night table, before sitting next to the bed. He's watching TV again, or so it seems: his eyes are glazed, you can tell he isn't there right now. You don't dare to interrupt his thoughts, though. Wherever he is, you're sure it's a happier place than a hospital room. When you touch his arm, you realize he's cold, and you immediately cover him with the comforter.

I haven't been having a very good time at work, you admit. My boss is all over my ass because of the latest absences. Junsu thinks I should just quit, but . . . I'm afraid to. I guess I'm just a coward.

You sigh when he doesn't move to show that he's listening. No change from a few days ago. Why are you surprised? He has decided to hide inside himself and you don't really blame him. You miss him so much, though, you miss waking up next to him, just hearing his voice. Why can't you be the one to help him now, just like Yunho did not so long ago? It doesn't really matter, though.

The nurse comes with another IV pack and you frown.

He won't eat, she says when she notices your gaze. Only way to feed him.

You close your eyes, feeling so helpless, so useless. You reach for his free hand and hold it.

Please, Hyung, you beg him, eyes filling with tears, but still he refuses to look at you. I want to help you. I love you, I would do anything for you.

At some point, he closes his eyes and you're left there, holding on to him, feeling lonelier than ever.

When visiting hours end, you kiss his forehead and leave. You go home, eat (or at least you try) and then go to bed. You don't bring work home anymore, you just don't have the energy for it. You can only think about him; you want him to get better, to want to live again. Right now, you can tell he wants to die, he wishes he wasn't stuck in this world he obviously hates.

Am I not enough? you wonder more than once, no matter how selfish it may seem. You shake your head at the thought, though.

Junsu and Yunho call nearly every day and ask how you are. You aren't surprised at Junsu, but Yunho has been a friend through it all.

We should have dinner sometime, he said last time. You think he needs to talk, but you still don't know how to feel about him at all.

Changmin has called a couple of times, as well, but your conversations are short and uncomfortable. How you wish they weren't so.

I can only wait, you tell yourself, closing your eyes and begging for sleep to come.


Title: Comfortable

I'm tired, he says, lying down on your bed. You join him, not at all surprised when he moves to lean his head on your shoulder.

Tired? Of what? He was absent three days in a row and then he came back to school with a written excuse, like nothing had happened.

He shrugs.

Everything. He sighs. I just wish I could go far away. Want to come with me?

You snort.

I say yes every time you ask, you reply. Almost absently, you start stroking his hair. What is it, though? Is it your family? School? Me?

He shakes his head.

Not you, never you, he says, leaning up to kiss your cheek. My life would be hell if you weren't in it, I don't care how mushy that sounds. You grin (though your heart beats faster in worry).

We'll go away soon, you remind him. And we'll be in a new place, new people. Everything will be great.

He sighs, clutching at you tighter.

No matter what I do, it's always the same. He sounds sad, so sad. Sometimes I think it would be better if I just killed myself.

You jump, looking at him.

No! Does he even realize what he's saying? It wouldn't be better! What about me? And your family?

He snorts.

My family doesn't care. He smiles up at you. You would miss me?

His question makes you so angry you want to push him away. Instead, you pull him into a tight hug.

I'll fucking die if something happens to you. You've never told him that before, but you love him so much, too much. How would you go on if he disappeared from your life?

He hugs back tightly, holding on tighter than you hold him. You want to ask what's wrong, but you know he won't tell you. Why would he even feel this way?

I love you, he whispers into your ear.

Me, too, you answer, trying to pull away, but he doesn't let you, holding on for dear life.


Title: Narrow

Yoochun.

You're sitting at your usual chair, holding his hand, like you do every day. He looks at you sometimes, but only when he thinks you're not looking. You still come see him, though, you tell him about your day, about the things that happen outside in the world. Apparently, he's silent because he wants to be, no mystery behind it. If only you could hear his voice again . . .

Despair and impatience are beginning to take a toll on you when, suddenly, you hear your name. Yunho is standing at the door, looking at you.

Join me for a cigarette? he offers. He sounds just as tired as you do, and you have to wonder: does he come visit often? Does Jaejoong stare at him like he does you?

However, you push those thoughts away and sigh.

Sure.

You walk up to a designated area for smokers and he offers you a cigarette. You accept and soon enough you're "inhaling death", as Changmin used to say. The memory makes you snort.

Changmin hasn't tried to make you quit, yet?

He looks taken aback, uncomfortable, even. That was not your intention. Nevertheless, you watch his reaction, up until he shrugs.

I'm trying to quit, he admits, looking into your eyes. I don't dare smoke near him, though.

You nod.

He hates the smell and the smoke, you say. I tried to quit for him, but . . . You shrug.

He nods in understanding. He takes a drag and exhales, looking anywhere but at you.

Did she talk to you? he asks suddenly.

Who?

Jaejoong's sister. She had said she wanted to talk to you.


You shrug.

We talked, but . . . She wasn't very forthcoming. She said Jaejoong should be the one to tell me things . . .

He should have
, he interrupts you. I've never understood why he couldn't tell you, though. He has nothing to be ashamed of.

You exhale impatiently.

Then you tell me, you say. I've asked so many times. He doesn't make sense half of the time.

Yunho takes a deep breath.

He has a psychiatric condition. He was misdiagnosed a few times, so he's distrustful of doctors and hospitals . . .

What is this condition?
you ask, close to losing your patience.

He's bipolar. Oh. Well, that . . . Problem is, his hypomanic episodes, those times when he's happy, are more frequent than his depressive episodes. And he doesn't want to accept that he has a problem. As soon as he's off his meds, he forgets everything bad he went through before.

You sit down on a bench, digesting his words. Bipolar. Not a word you hear often. You only knew about one family member, and no one ever really talked about him, like he was someone to be ashamed of.

So, there's treatment?

Yunho nods.

And it can be effective. There's just, well, side effects. He hates them.

You sigh. So much you need to find out now, but at least you have a lead, you know what to look for. He sits next to you.

If you want to stay by his side, you need to know it won't be easy. You'll need to be there for him.

Sounds exhausting.


He gives you a wry smile.

It can be, he admits. But I promise, it'll be worth it, if you love him like I think you do, it will be.

You sit together for a while longer, smoking in silence. You never thought you would feel this comfortable around Yunho, this man you blamed for things he wasn't guilty of. Right now, though, he's your only lifeline. And you will take it.


Title: Absence

You’re leaving early again, Sir? your secretary asks, looking surprised.

Yeah. Phone me if there's anything important, all right?

You can feel your colleagues' gazes as you walk out of the office, but you could care less. Your bosses have been keeping note of our absences and the days you leave early. Right now, though, you want to get to the hospital and see Jaejoong, you want to see that he's alive and breathing and not cold and dead like in your never ending nightmares.

Traffic is decent for the hour and you get to the hospital relatively quickly. You find a parking space (the hospital parking lot rates are ridiculous, but, well, it's not like you can't pay them) and make your way to his room.

As soon as you get there, however, you find his bed empty. None of his things (his comforter, the books his sister brought) are there anymore, everything is clean and ready to receive a new patient.

Your heart beats hard as you approach the nurse's station.

Excuse me, could you tell me the whereabouts of Kim Jaejoong? you ask, managing to keep your nerves from bleeding into your voice. The young woman looks quickly.

He was discharged this morning, she says. Her words feel like a punch to your stomach. Discharged?

Thank you, you reply as you walk away.

You grab your phone as soon as you're in your car. It doesn't take long for him to answer.

Hi, Yunho, you say (you feel strange at the sense of familiarity you have begun to feel with him).

Hey, Yoochun. You think he sounds at least as nervous as you. What's up?

Did you know Jaejoong was discharged from the hospital today?


There's a long pause.

No, I did not, he answers, sounding worried. Let me call his sister and I'll get back to you.

You will your heart to stop beating painfully as you drive away from the hospital. So many days coming to see him, being near him, and now . . . He's just gone, you have no idea as to where he has gone. Why would the hospital let him go when he's obviously still unwell?

You're arriving home when your cell phone rings.

Yunho?

Yoochun, his sister got him transferred to another place back in his old town, some small hospital . . .


His words don't compute at first. She took him away? Even knowing what she knew . . .

She took him home? you ask, somehow managing to keep calm. She took him back home?

That's what she told me, he answers. She wouldn't say more, though.

You sigh, somehow keeping calm.

Thanks, man . . .

Will you be okay?
You sigh, somewhat surprised by the question.

Yeah. See you.

Home feels even emptier today and you hate it. She took him away, she didn't even give you a chance to say goodbye. Your chest hurts, you don't know what to do.

Fuck! you say, sitting on the couch, but it isn't enough. You topple the coffee table, you grab random items—books, DVDs, decorations—and throw them against the wall and the floor, until they're as broken as you feel. Something breaks against the wall, but you don't care.

It's still not enough; you sit on the sofa, letting your head fall forward, tears falling on the floor.

What am I supposed to do now? you ask yourself over and over (though you know no one will answer).


Title: Purpose

Are you home?

You grab another bottle and walk over to the balcony. It feels good to be out there, the cold air the only thing reminding you that you're alive. You take a drag from your cigarette and exhale. Only days ago he was standing out here, smoking, chest and arms covered by so many scars you couldn't remember what his body looked like before.

Sometimes it's too much, sometimes it's just not enough, he said then, voice soft. Now you know what he means, though it's still so hard to understand all the information you have taken upon yourself to read. Does it even matter anymore, though? He's so far away, you don't know when, if ever, you'll see him again.

Yoochun, please open the door.

Work has become your refuge again. This time, however, you truly feel hopeless, there's nothing left for you in this world. All this time, staying alive and sane for him, only for him, and now . . .

More knocking on your door. You want to scream at them to go away, but you lack the energy for even that. Why can't they leave you to be?

You hear the door open.

Junsu, get the fuck out, you say, your speech slurred (adding to your already pathetic existence, if that's possible).

Not Junsu, another voice answers. You're surprised when Changmin pushes your feet off the other chair so he can sit on it. Shit, Yoochun, how much have you had? You think he'll start picking up the empty bottles (you're reminded of your years together and you have to smile at how some things never change).

Just a bit, you lie, ignoring all evidence to the contrary. Not that it isn't nice to see you, but, what do you want?

For you to snap out of it, he replies at once. You have everyone worried. Junsu's even talking about moving you up to his apartment until . . .

No no no no
, you say, putting out your cigarette before you burn someone by accident. I'm not leaving my home. And this is really none of your business.

He sighs, staring down at the floor. He's trying to be patient, trying to be reasonable, but he's finding it hard, you can tell by his every expression and every little movement of his hands.

Okay, let's get this straight. According to Hyukjae hyung, Junsu hyung has barely been sleeping just worrying over you being here alone. Add to that the fact that Yunho has been calling you every day for the last three weeks or so, and also that I'm worried out of my fucking mind over you and then tell me it's none of our business! Okay, he's angry. You want to roll your eyes at him, but you know he wouldn't appreciate it.

What do you want me to do? you ask. Can't you just let me get over this . . . ?

No!
you're taken aback by his anger. You, Park Yoochun, are an absolute idiot! Do something! Go look for him or . . . I don't know. He stands up, frustrated. Just don't lie here letting yourself die. You're not the Yoochun I met and I hate that. You're better than this.

He starts walking away, toward the door. Fuck.

Changmin!

He stops and turns to look at you. He looks like you feel: so helpless, tears in his eyes.

What?

You sigh, somehow managing to get up, and walk back into the room.

I can't . . . I can't do this alone, you force the words to come out, otherwise you think you'll explode. Before you know it, you can't see him anymore, his sight distorted by tears upon tears. You hear him sigh and then he's holding you tight against him, warm and almost perfect.

You'll get through this, he promises. You will.









tbc . . .


<<Part 15 | Part 17>>

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