Trapped (BTS AU)

7

After having the x-ray, I was taken back to the doctors' room to wait for my results. Dad fetched Yoongi who sat on the bed with me, threatening to poke my toes.

"Dad!" I whine. "Tell him!"

"Yoongi leave him alone!"

Yoongi pouts. "I was only teasing. I wasn't really going to touch them."

"I don't care." I snap at him. "You're annoying me."

Yoongi sits a moment silently then he says. "Hoseok, you know the old woman you were talking to?"

I nod.

"She collapsed. Full-on heart attack, it was mental!"

I panic half lifting myself from the bed. "What? Is she okay?"

Yoongi shrugs. "Dunno. They carted her off on a bed. One doctor sat over her on the bed, doing CPR."

"I hope she's okay," I say. And I do. She was charming to me. She could have ignored me. Yet she comforted me and even made those glaring patients look ashamed for being disgusted by me.

A while later, the doctor came back with the results. He explained what was broken and what had to be done to fix it.  But I wasn't listening  I couldn't stop thinking about Mrs Lewis.

"Hoseok?" The doctor said.

"Huh?"

"I'm going to give you some pain relief now. So that I can set your toes back in place, I need you to breath through this as deeply as you can."

He handed me something that I remember seeing women in labour using on TV. I'm thankful that I know what to do with it, but then I think if this is used for the pain of childbirth, then how much is this going to bloody hurt?

"Hold my hand Hoseok," Dad says, and I quickly grab him.

Yoongi smirks. "Do you want to hold my hand too?"

"Fuck off!"

"Hoseok!" Dad tuts. "Yoongi, go back out there and wait."

Yoongi sighs and leaves the room.

"Ready?" The doctor asks.

"Yes, just please hurry!" I whimper.

----------------------------------

"Hoseok. Wake up, son."

"What?" I open my eyes to see my dad smiling at me. "What happened?"

"You passed out," Dad tells me. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, is it done?"

"All done." The doctor smiles. "You should rest out in the waiting area for a while to make sure you're okay. Then you're free to go home."

"Thank you." I exhale. "I'm so glad I don't have to stay. No offence."

The doctor chuckles. "None taken."

So we sit in the waiting room. My head is groggy, and I feel like I'm in a dream state. The effect of the pain relief, I guess. I note that some poor soul has had to clean up my vomit from earlier and I feel a pang of guilt. But in my condition I wasn't exactly capable of running to the toilet, decorating the floor with my spew was inevitable really.

As I start to feel more awake and ready to go home, the entrance doors burst open, and paramedics charge in wheeling through a boy on a stretcher.  He's covered in blood and bruises: some old, some new. I gasp in shock at the sight and the fact that I know him.

"Oh, my God!" I cry and shield my eyes from the blood. "I know him."

"Is he one of your friends?" Dad asks.

I shake my head. "No, I don't know him that well." I lie. I do know him well. How could I not? He is Daniel Smith, one of Taehyung's friends and one of my bullies. "Will he be okay?" I ask dad. I shouldn't care but, I've never seen someone in such a state. It scares me, and all that blood makes me nauseous.

"I don't know son." He replies. "They will do their best to help him, I'm sure."

Yoongi grunts at me. "Why do you even care?"

"I don't know," I murmur.

Dad puts his arm around me. "Because he is caring and sensitive."

Daniel is wheeled away out of our vision. I'm left wondering what the hell has happened to him. A nurse walks over to me. I look up at her, confused.

"Are you Hoseok?" She asks. "The boy that Mrs Lewis spoke with?"

I gulp. "Y-yes."

"She asked me to give you this." She hands me a piece of paper with an address and phone number written on it. "She said to call her when you're better. She has a job offer for you."

"Oh," I say. I look at dad; he just smiles thinly. I turn back to the nurse. "Thank you. Is Mrs Lewis, alright?"

"Yes. She is stable now."

I sigh relieved. "Thank you," I say again, and the nurse leaves.

Dad picks me up again. "Ready to go home?"

I nod wearily. "Yes."