K-pop sickfics/hurtfics

Han StrayKids - Anxiety

This story mention use of drugs and overdose (sa), if you are uncomfortable with it please skip. 1300 words.

Han Jisung had always been the spark of Stray Kids. His quick wit, his infectious energy, and his uncanny ability to make his members laugh had earned him a place as the heart of the group. But lately, that spark had been dimming, flickering in and out, like a flame fighting against the wind.

It started with a tightness in his chest that wouldn't go away. A subtle pressure, just behind his ribs, that gnawed at him. His usual self-confidence started to slip through his fingers, and no matter how many songs he wrote or how many rehearsals he pushed through, the weight continued to bear down on him.

In practice, he forced himself to keep up. He forced himself to smile, to laugh, to push through the motions. No one suspected that behind the quick jokes and the sharp lyrics, he was barely holding on.

That morning, the dorm was unnaturally quiet. Jisung lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling, his body heavy with the invisible weight of anxiety. The sunlight filtered through the curtains, but it couldn't reach the dark places in his mind.

He felt... nothing. Empty, almost. There were moments where everything felt too loud, too bright. Then, other times, it felt like he was underwater, disconnected from everything around him, like he was fading away, becoming a ghost.

The medication wasn't helping anymore. His therapist had tried to adjust his doses, change up his routine, but the relief had only been temporary. He still felt the panic, the suffocating loneliness that seemed to creep into every crevice of his life.

"I can't do this anymore," Jisung whispered, his voice shaking in the silence. His hands trembled as he reached for the bottle of pills on his bedside table. His fingers brushed the smooth surface, the familiar weight of the container grounding him for just a moment.

He thought about his members - his family - his fans. He thought about how they all relied on him to be the "bright one." He thought about all the times he'd let them down without even realizing it. The guilt crushed him.

I'm failing. I'm not good enough for them. I'm not even good enough for myself.

His hands shook as he twisted the cap off the bottle. Just one more, right? Just one more to take the edge off.

But when he tipped the bottle, too many pills fell into his palm. He stared at them : white, round, and harmless-looking, but for some reason, they felt heavy, like they were weighing him down with every second that passed.

Without thinking, he swallowed them. Too many, too fast. But he didn't care. The numbness that followed was all he wanted. He didn't want to feel the pressure anymore, didn't want to feel like a failure.

His vision started to blur, the room tilting. He didn't know if it was the pills, or the overwhelming emotions finally getting to him, but for the first time in days, his mind felt quiet. Empty.

Maybe this is what peace feels like.

When Chan knocked on his door that morning, he got no response. After a few more attempts, his unease grew, and he pushed the door open.

"Jisung?"

What he saw made his heart drop to his stomach. Jisung was sitting against the bed's headboard, his eyes unfocused, his face pale as a ghost. The pill bottle lay beside him, half-empty.

"Jisung!" Chan shouted, rushing over to him. He knelt beside him, checking his pulse, trying to shake him awake.

Nothing.

The other members heard the commotion and rushed in, each of them freezing when they saw the state their friend was in. The room was heavy with the realization that something was very wrong.

"Call an ambulance! Now!" Chan's voice was shaking, a stark contrast to his usual calm.

Felix was the first to react, his hands fumbling as he dialed the emergency number, his voice panicked as he relayed the situation.

Seungmin and Minho worked quickly to clear Jisung's airway, following the instructions Felix received from the emergency operator. But no matter what they did, Jisung's breathing remained shallow, and his skin was a sickly shade of pale.

"Stay with us, Jisung," Chan whispered, holding his friend's limp hand in his own, the tears in his eyes blurring his vision. "Please, stay with us."

Jisung's breath was slow, labored. He wasn't fully conscious, but the faint sound of a wheeze escaped his lips. His eyes fluttered open for a split second, but the panic that overtook him was unmistakable. He couldn't breathe. The overwhelming anxiety gripped him, even in this state.

He tried to speak, but all that came out was a weak rasp, followed by a harsh cough. I'm sorry, he tried to say, though the words wouldn't form. He could see the panic in Chan's face, but all he felt was fear. Fear of being a burden, of not being strong enough for his friends.

As the ambulance sped down the street, Jisung felt his consciousness slipping in and out. He was aware of the paramedics working on him, but he couldn't focus. The tightness in his chest was unbearable, and his body felt like it was shutting down.

His thoughts were a mess. His mind kept spiraling into dark places, flashes of guilt and shame that he couldn't escape. He thought of his members, the ones who relied on him.

I'm not strong enough for them. I'm not good enough.

Chan sat beside him, his face pale with worry, but Jisung couldn't even find the strength to reassure him. There was too much chaos in his head. The ambulance's siren wailed in the background, but everything felt distant, muffled, as if he were fading further away. The silence inside his head was both peaceful and terrifying. He couldn't tell if he was awake or asleep, whether he was dreaming or losing consciousness completely.

Hours passed in the sterile hospital waiting room. The members were huddled together, their faces etched with anxiety and fear. No one spoke. No one knew what to say. They could only sit and wait, unable to do anything more.

Felix was the first to break the silence. His voice was quiet, strained. "I should have noticed... he's been struggling for so long, and I didn't even see it." His hands trembled as he clutched his knees.

"None of us saw it," Hyunjin said, his voice cracking. He had tears in his eyes but no more to shed. "We were all so focused on the group, on everything else. We didn't know Jisung was carrying all of this alone."

"We're supposed to be his family," Minho added softly, shaking his head. "How did we let him get to this point?"

The doctor finally emerged, her face grim. "He's stable for now," she began. "But it's still touch and go. The overdose was serious, and we don't know yet how much damage was done. He's unconscious, and we're doing everything we can, but we need to wait for his body to react to the treatment. It's too soon to say if he'll make it through this."

The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. Chan felt his knees go weak. He had expected bad news, but hearing it spoken aloud made it so much worse.

The doctor hesitated before adding, "We'll keep him under close observation. I'll let you know if anything changes."

The members could only nod, each of them numb, the reality of the situation sinking in with brutal force. They had nearly lost Jisung - maybe still would - and they could do nothing but wait.

Hours stretched into a long night. The members sat in the hospital room, taking turns to sit by Jisung's side, watching his shallow, labored breathing. It was hard to look at him, hard to see their lively, vibrant friend so pale and still, hooked up to machines that beeped every few seconds, monitoring his condition.

Each minute felt like a year. Chan stayed by his side, never letting go of his hand, while the others huddled together, trying to find comfort in each other's presence. But nothing felt right anymore. The silence was deafening.

They didn't know if Jisung would wake up. They didn't know if he'd make it through.

But they would wait.

For as long as it took.

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