Ateez Oneshots & Sickfics

San: Silent Struggles

•Ateez: San
•Hurtfic
•CW: head injury, fainting, nausea.
************************************

San had always been the reliable one. He took pride in keeping his bandmates on track during dance practice, managing rehearsals, and smiling through the grueling schedules. But tonight, something was different. The sharp pain in his head had intensified ever since the accident a few days ago.

It had happened during a late-night practice for their upcoming music video. San had slipped on the slick floor and hit his head hard against a nearby pillar. The impact had left him dazed for a few moments, but he quickly recovered, refusing to let the others see. He couldn't afford to show weakness—not in front of his other members who looked up to him.

He'd hidden it well for the past few days, pushing through the headache, the dizziness, and the faint nausea that seemed to follow him everywhere. But now, as he stood backstage, preparing for the live broadcast, everything felt heavier.

"Hyung, are you okay?" Jongho, the youngest member, asked with a concerned look. He’d noticed how San's steps had faltered when he walked to the stage.

"I'm fine," San reassured him with a strained smile, rubbing his temples. "Just a little tired, that's all."

The broadcast began, and they went through their choreography. The lights were blinding, the music deafening, but San pushed through, focusing on the rhythm, on his bandmates’ movements. But the headache was relentless. His vision blurred during one of the high-energy dance moves, and he stumbled, barely catching himself on the side of the stage.

"San!" Seonghwa, the oldest, exclaimed as he rushed over.

"I'm fine, really," San said quickly, trying to steady himself. But his words felt hollow. His head was spinning, and the pressure in his skull was unbearable.

The performance ended, and the members huddled backstage, waiting for their cue to leave. But San's condition only worsened, and soon he was leaning against a wall, eyes shut tight, gripping his head.

Seonghwa knelt down beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Sannie, you’re not fine. You’ve been acting strange these last few days. What’s going on?"

San shook his head weakly. "I’m just... tired. Please don’t make a big deal out of it."

"Too late," Yeosang snapped, his voice tight with worry. "We’re getting you checked out. No arguments."

Before San could protest, the other members were already gathering around him, their faces a mix of concern and determination. He could see the worry in their eyes, and for the first time in days, he felt the weight of his secret pulling him down.

"Sannie, you have to tell us what's going on," Hongjoon insisted, his voice soft but firm. "We can’t keep going like this. You're not alone in this."

San hesitated, his hands trembling. The thought of admitting he couldn’t handle it—the thought of being a burden—made his chest tighten. But he could feel the exhaustion creeping into his bones, the dizziness threatening to take over. He couldn’t ignore it anymore.

"…I hit my head a few days ago," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn’t want to worry you, but... it’s getting worse. I don’t know what’s happening to me."

Hongjoon's eyes widened in shock. "Why didn’t you tell us sooner? We need to get you to a doctor, now."

San tried to protest, but the room seemed to spin around him, and the world went black before he could finish his sentence. His body collapsed, falling into Hongjoon's arms.