Stray Kids Ship Oneshots (BOOK 2 !)

143-Minchan: Where We're Not

Title: Where We're Not

Ship: Minchan

TW: blood gore blood blood

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The pain didn't come right away. The poles and the traffic lights separated into two, before blurring back together again above him. His breath was ragged, a slight wheeze being heard every time he tried to breathe in. The world around him rung high in his ears, like his eardrums had blown. Everything smelled of metallic, copper, in the warm, crisp air. He was laying on asphalt, every little rock digging into his skin underneath, shifting with every breath.

When he was able to count all his senses, thats when the pain hit. His lungs burned and his face stung. He could feel his stomach numb below the right of his naval. Reaching one of his hands to the area, he was met with the familiar warm liquid his body produced to live. His head was throbbing.

He curled in on himself, turning his side. Air was suddenly forced up his throat, coughing out a wad of thick liquid onto the street. Blood, he noticed. He heaved another breath before coughing up more.

He lied back down on his back with a whimper. Looking to his other side he found a burning car, ripped and shredded to pieces. He didn't think he was ever in the car, but now that he thought about it, he wasn't sure he remembered anything in the first place. The only information he could pull was his name, Lee Minho.

"Minho." A voice entered his ears. They were muffled against the ringing that had yet to leave him. He could see them as they towered over him. A man, maybe. His hair was blond, and a thin choker wrapped around his neck. His face was hard to make out among the blurriness that hadn't left his eyes yet so Minho wasn't sure if he knew him. He wasn't sure if he'd recognize him if he knew him.

"Minho." He said again. He bent down, placing a gentle hand on Minho's arm. "Can you hear me?"

Minho spun back to his side as more blood forced its way up his throat. He found himself not bothered to move back his backside.

"God damnit." The man said. His head turned to look behind him. He turned, yelling something in another language at someone. It was English, he thought. Maybe. He couldn't be sure. He knew he couldn't understand it though. He turned back to Minho, moving his hand to his cheek. "It's going to be okay, Min, okay? You're going to live."

But I'm dying, Minho thought. He was bleeding out, coughing up blood, everything was blurry and everything was ringing. These were not signs he was going to live.

The man sat behind Minho and gently lifted him so Minho was sitting between his legs and his back against him. He ran a hand over Minho's forehead and up through his hair, just barely skinning over a wound on his scalp. His touch was comforting, and even if it wasn't, he was far too weak to fight against him.

A second figure appeared in Minho's vision. Another man, smaller, with the same blond hair as the one behind him. He crouched in front of Minho. "Minho? Are you there?" He said. He frowned when Minho didn't answer and only stared at him. His eyes flickered to the man behind him. "Chan hyung, he's dying. He's not gonna make it."

"He will." Chan said. Minho didn't know the name. He couldn't remember if he did or not at least. "He will, I know it."

"He will if you—"

"No. I promised I wouldn't."

"He's asked you multiple times to do it already. And if you don't in the next few minutes, he's dead."

Do what? What had Minho asked him to do already? He rolled his head back against Chan's shoulder to try and look at his face again. Maybe this close he could actually make it out. He could see the features better, but he still wasn't sure about this guy. He clearly knew him based off this conversation.