Kpop Sickfics & Hurtfics

The Fall and Rise (Jackson)

Jackson had always been the embodiment of fearlessness. Whether it was his martial arts tricking, his incredible dance routines, or his enthusiasm for extreme sports, nothing seemed to phase him. The rush of adrenaline was like second nature. So when he and a few close friends decided to celebrate their latest achievement with a skydiving trip, it didn't seem like anything out of the ordinary. It was just another thrilling adventure, another high to chase.

As they boarded the plane, Jackson's excitement was palpable. He was all smiles, cracking jokes with his friends, exuding that charismatic energy he was so well-known for. The plane climbed higher and higher, and his heart raced in anticipation. It wasn't his first time jumping from such a height, and the familiar rush of adrenaline surged through his veins.

"Let's do this!" Jackson shouted over the roar of the wind as the door of the plane opened. One by one, they jumped, and when it was his turn, Jackson leaped into the sky without a second thought.

The initial freefall was everything he'd hoped for. The wind whipped past him, and for a few blissful moments, it felt like flying. But then, as he pulled the ripcord, something went terribly wrong. His parachute didn't fully deploy. A moment of panic gripped him as he yanked on the cord, trying to fix the situation. He was spinning out of control, hurtling toward the ground faster than he should've been.

His backup parachute deployed at the last second, and while it slowed his descent, it wasn't enough. He hit the ground hard, the impact jarring every bone in his body. His leg took the brunt of it, and a sharp, searing pain shot through him. He screamed before he could stop himself, gasping for breath. Something was seriously wrong.

He tried to move but couldn't. His leg felt like it was on fire, and when he looked down, he saw the unnatural angle of his knee. Shock began to set in, and for the first time in a long while, Jackson felt truly helpless.

Medics arrived within minutes, rushing to his side as his friends hovered nearby, their faces pale with concern. Jackson, though grimacing in pain, tried to downplay the severity of the injury.

"It's fine," he panted, trying to sit up. "Probably just a sprain."

But the moment he tried to move, his leg buckled beneath him, and he collapsed back with a strangled gasp. The medics exchanged knowing looks and quickly loaded him onto a stretcher, Jackson's protests falling on deaf ears.

At the hospital, Jackson's bravado didn't waver. Even as the doctors examined his leg, he cracked jokes, doing his best to lighten the mood. "I've had worse," he told them with a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. But when the doctor returned with the news—a severe ligament tear and a fractured ankle—Jackson's heart sank.

"Surgery?" Jackson echoed in disbelief. "Weeks of physical therapy?"

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. He could feel the weight of disappointment settling in. Performances, training, everything he'd worked so hard for—it was all suddenly in jeopardy.

By the time Jackson's closest friends and group members arrived, he was already in a cast, his leg propped up in the hospital bed. BamBam, who had been the first to hear about the accident, rushed to his side, his usual calm demeanor barely hiding his concern.

"Jackson," BamBam began, his voice steady but tense. "You okay?"

Jackson gave a weak smile. "Yeah, just a little setback. I'll be back on my feet in no time."

BamBam didn't buy it. He could see the tension in Jackson's face, the strain in his voice. Jackson was scared, though he would never admit it. Without a word, BamBam sat down next to him, offering silent support. He knew Jackson hated feeling vulnerable, and right now, more than anything, he needed his friends to be there, not with words, but with presence.