Fate || PART 2 of 'Good Luck, Babe!' (Bbangsaz)

16. Helpless

Trigger Warning: Mentions of blood and topics that may be sensitive to some people.

M I N J I

The cold air outside the exam hall bit at my skin, but I barely felt it. It was over. Finally. Six long hours.

Hanni left this morning when I was heading out to the exam. She hugged me, wished me good luck—those small moments had given me the strength to push through today, but now that it was over, I felt like I was crumbling and my body was giving up.

I hadn’t slept at all last night. If I could just get to my bed, maybe I’d finally pass out.

I must’ve been zoning out because I didn’t even notice Minjeong until she draped her arm over my shoulder.

"How'd it go?" she asked, her voice light, like she didn’t have a care in the world.

I sighed as we headed towards the parking lot. "It was easier than I thought it’d be, but—"

"But it was long," she finished for me, laughing.

"Yeah. Really long."

"Dr. Lee expects us at the clinic later for a quick meeting," she said, her tone more serious now. "You know, because our internship at the bigger hospital starts after the results. Did you get the message?"

I groaned, feeling the exhaustion hit me like a tidal wave. "Is there any way I can skip it? I need sleep, or I’m going to lose my mind."

Minjeong chuckled, patting my back. "I’ll drive you to the clinic. You can sleep on the way."

"Really?" I asked, gratefulness washing over me. "Thank you so much."

I settled into her car, letting my head rest against the cold leather of the seat. The heater slowly warmed up, and the gentle hum of the engine made it even harder to keep my eyes open.

Half an hour to the clinic. That’s enough time to get some rest, right?

But just as I felt myself drifting off, my phone buzzed in my lap.

I groaned, annoyed at the interruption. I was about to ignore it, but when I saw Hanni’s name on the screen, my heart stopped.

I answered without hesitation, expecting her to ask how the exam went.

"Hanni?"

The shaky breath on the other end froze me in place.

"Minji—" Her voice was so fragile, trembling like she was barely holding herself together. "I—I’m bleeding."

I sat up straight, my heart slamming against my chest. "What—what do you mean? How much?"

"It won’t stop, Minji. I—I can’t stand up. I feel so lightheaded…" Her voice broke into sobs. "I think I’m going to lose the baby."

"Where are you?" I asked, my voice shaking. "Are you at the penthouse? Hanni, stay with me. I’m coming right now. Don’t move, okay? Don’t move."

Minjeong glanced at me, alarmed by the panic in my voice.

I waved her off, already throwing the car door open, my body moving before my mind even caught up. I ran over to my own car.

"I don’t know what to do," Hanni cried, her words thick with fear. "I can’t stop the bleeding. I—I feel like I’m going to pass out."

I gripped the steering wheel, trying to keep my voice steady. "Stay awake, okay? Don’t close your eyes. Just keep talking to me. I’ll be there in a bit."

I barely registered anything as I sped down the road to the hotel. My heart was racing, my thoughts spiraling out of control. I had to get to her. I had to save her.

It took me too long to reach her building, I ran past the security of the hotel without a second thought, sprinting to the elevator, jamming the button repeatedly. Every second felt like an eternity.

She told me the pin, seven—two—two—four. My shaky hands fumbled to tap it in, and luckily, the doors opened, and my heart dropped.

Hanni was there, slumped against the doorframe, her legs covered in blood. So much blood. Too much.

Her face was ashen, her eyes fluttering as she fought to stay conscious.

"Hanni!" I shouted, rushing to her side. She barely responded, her breathing shallow and uneven.

"Minji—" she whispered, her voice so faint, so broken. And I tried not to lose myself.

I knelt beside her, lifting her into my arms. The blood soaked through my clothes, but I didn’t care. "I’m here. I’ve got you. We’re going to the hospital, okay? Hold on for me."

She nodded weakly, her head resting against my chest, her tears mixing with the blood. "I don’t want to lose the baby," she whimpered, her voice full of anguish. "Please…"

"You won’t," I said, my voice cracking. "I won’t let anything happen to you two. I promise."

I helped her to the elevator, and to my car, my hands trembling as I made her sit on the passenger seat.

Every bump in the road, every second that passed, felt like it was killing her. Her breathing grew fainter, and all I could do was drive faster, my mind screaming at me to do something—anything—to make it stop. The hospital was nearby, and I could make it in time.

When we finally reached the hospital, I barely managed to get the words out to the staff, my voice frantic as they rushed her onto a stretcher.

"Four months pregnant," I choked out. "She has had a threatened miscarriage before."

They nodded, wheeling her away as I stood frozen, my hands covered in her blood, unable to follow.

Everything around me was blurry. It all happened so fast. My mind was everywhere but here.

I stood there, helpless, watching the doors close behind them.

How could have this happened? She was healthy. She was okay. Unless—fuck.

I can't think properly or form words right now.

All those scenarios I've been through, all the training I went through, I had never been this scared. Never this scared of blood—or this scared of a woman possibly facing a miscarriage.

If she loses the child. It will scar her for life.

Then it hit me. She had been getting cramps. And I ignored it. I let it go. I looked down at my shirt—her blood all over it too.

It's my fault. It's all my fault.

I tried to slow down my breathing as I sat in the hospital hallway, this? It happens.

Women often bleed a lot even if they're not having a miscarriage. Bleeding doesn't always mean...

I didn’t realize when the tears escaped my eyes, think rationally, Minji. Not emotionally. I kept telling myself over and over again.

I can't let her lose the child.

But I can't do anything right now, other than wait and wait.

Minutes felt like hours, and I didn’t know how much time had passed before a doctor finally approached me, his face unreadable.

"Are you with the patient?" he asked, his voice low and serious.

I nodded, my entire body trembling with fear.

The doctor took a deep breath, his eyes full of something—pity, maybe, or regret. I didn’t know, and I didn’t want to know.

"I need to talk to you about the baby," he said, his words hanging heavy in the air.