DADA [Taekook]

9. Jungsun's Father

Three months later
Jungkook POV

"Jungkook, you're not his father."

That's what Dr. Yoonchae used to say whenever I visited Jungsun at the hospital. My baby's case was still under her as they didn't transfer the complicated ones to residents that easily.

Five months.

For five months, Jungsun fought for his life in his small incubator while I fought for his custody outside. Jungsun had started looking much better than before, his healing process didn't seem less than a miracle.

Although hampered by the minimal tubes sticking to his tiny body, Jungsun would always kick his legs happily whenever I used to visit him.

"Jungsun-ah~" I would sing his name like a song while smiling ear to ear at his adorable face. His expressions would lit up instantly, stretching out his small hands towards me.

My eyes would tear up at the mere thought of leaving him alone at the hospital, but his dada had to work to provide for his little family, his Jungsun. So with tears rolling down my eyes and my baby's incoherent babbles, which I assumed were his attempts to tell me to stay, I used to leave him there every night.

I became an atheist right from the time I got to know the word, religion. Since Jungsun came into my life and I moved out of my parent's house, I started going to church to pray for my baby's health.

That's all I could think of.

That's all a dad could think of.

And that's all his dad prayed for.

There was an endless loop of the same tiresome routine. 8 to 5 hospital, 5 to 7 Jungsun, then going to church sometimes before getting back home. The new hospital had, in all good ways, accepted me wholeheartedly. Though the head of pediatrics was a bit too dominating for my liking, my colleagues were nice and fun.

Back at home, I had used my weekends productively to make the house more liveable, and even lively. Without much expenditure, I had tried my best to make it seem more comfortable and welcoming.

All for my baby.

Not more than 2 days before Jungsun's discharge from the hospital could I get his custody from the NGO. It was an arduous task to match their strict criteria, especially housing and finances. But when it was finally done, and the custody papers were placed in my hands, all I could do was cry.

I cried on my knees in front of everyone. Although the embarrassment hit me hard afterwards, that moment felt like the biggest achievement of my life. It would be an understatement to say that I was on cloud nine.