Little King (Seoksoo)

Joshua

When Joshua's dad had died, driving home from the airport after a red-eye flight, eight-year-old Joshua had been woken in the middle of the night by his mom. "Your dad's been hurt," she'd whispered, shaking him gently. "We need to go to the hospital." There'd been no warning of how bad his crash had been, and nothing had prepared Joshua for the fact that, by the time they'd gotten to the hospital, his father's heart had stopped.

Driving to see his brother—Seungcheol was hurt—Seokmin hadn't pushed Joshua for a reaction. He'd let him stay silent, and Joshua was grateful for that. He hadn't realized how deeply entrenched the trauma of that night was until he'd felt it being repeated. Hadn't known how to process the fear Seokmin's whispered words had evoked.

Walking into Seungcheol's hospital room now, Joshua only realized how truly numb he'd been since hearing the news of the attack when a painful mix of guilt and relief washed over him at the sight of his brother.

Seungcheol was hurt. Seungcheol was alive. Seungcheol would be okay.

His brother had already been moved out of the ER and was lying in a hospital bed with his splinted right arm resting on a stack of pillows. He was free from any obvious cuts or bruises—Jeonghan's work, Seokmin had told him—and the only clear injury was the broken arm. His eyes looked vacant though, and his body was trembling slightly, almost imperceptibly. Even when he finally noted Joshua's presence, almost a full minute after Joshua had stepped into the room, the vacant look didn't leave his eyes. As if Joshua wasn't really there.

"Seungcheol?" Joshua kept his voice soft. Seungcheol's eyes, a more golden color than Joshua's own, slowly focused from their empty stare and finally settled on Joshua properly.

"Joshua." Seungcheol's voice was hoarse.

"How-How are you feeling?"

His brother gave a slow shrug with the shoulder of his uninjured arm. "They've given me a good amount of pain meds, so..." It didn't really answer the question, but it seemed all he was willing to say on the matter.

"That's good," Joshua said inadequately. "I'm glad—I'm glad you're not hurting. Are they going to keep you here overnight?"

Seungcheol stared at him dully. "It was an open fracture. They need to do surgery. I had eaten before—before all this happened, so they're waiting a few more hours."

An open fracture, meaning the skin had been broken, the bone having torn through it. Mingyu must have snapped Seungcheol's arm violently. Joshua's stomach churned at the thought.

The silence became strained, but Joshua didn't know where to begin. In the end, Seungcheol was the one who broke the it. "Where's your shadow?" His voice was bitter.

"My shadow?"

"That guy who's always around you lately. Seokmin." Seungcheol said the name like a curse. That didn't bode well.

Joshua cleared his throat. "I thought maybe you and I could use a moment alone."

Seungcheol nodded at that, but his mouth twisted. "That guy...except he's not a guy, is he? None of them are. Not him or that little blond one or the one—the one who did this to me." He raised his splinted arm in demonstration.

"What did he say to you? The one who did that."

"Not much. He was busy with...other stuff. Right before he snapped my arm, he told me to be a good brother and give his regards to Seokmin and his 'little human toy.' I'm assuming that's you?"

Jesus. "Not what I prefer to go by, but yeah, I guess so."

Seungcheol's stare went vacant again, the man lost in recollection. "He was so strong, Joshua, so fast. I couldn't do a thing to defend myself. And his eyes...his teeth... He— He bit me. And it fucking hurt. Then suddenly he was gone, and Jeong—that blond one was there, licking all my cuts and the bite, and then they were just—just gone?" Seungcheol's trembling had increased visibly, and the volume of his voice had risen until he was basically shouting. It was a miracle no one had come in to check on them. "Who the fuck are these people, Joshua? What the fuck are they?"