Running to You | Park Han + JL + Steven | Haneulz + Stejay AU

Chapter 63: Fallout

There were sounds, sure -- the faint buzz of overhead lights, the metallic drip from a pipe near the corner, someone's spike bag shifting just slightly on the bench. But it wasn't real noise. It was filler. White noise that tried and failed to compete with the gravity of silence that had formed around JL.

He hadn't moved since sitting down. Not really. His posture was slightly forward, elbows resting on his knees, water bottle clutched in one hand -- less like an athlete cooling down, more like someone holding onto something so they didn't float away. His gaze was fixed on a smudge on the floor. Something old, possibly blood, possibly dirt, possibly neither. His chest rose and fell, shallow. Mechanically.

Han had been the first one in after him, stride tight, face unreadable but sharp in the way that made you wonder if he was angry at you or angry at himself. Steven had followed at a slower pace, hands relaxed at his sides, but his eyes already scanning JL like he was counting injuries --not physical, not this time.

And then the others filtered in. Jeongwoo. Chih En. Shuaibo. Woongki. Juwon. Kyungho. None of them said anything, but something passed between them -- some quiet instinct, like wildlife sensing a coming storm. One by one, they quieted. Sat. Waited.

Han didn't wait. His voice came fast, crisp. "So this is it? One bad memory and you fall apart?"

The words weren't cruel. But they weren't soft either. They didn't land like questions. They landed like accusations you didn't want to believe were true.

Steven didn't even flinch. He stepped forward, calm and low. "Back off."

Han's head tilted, just slightly. "I'm sorry, are we pretending he's not unraveling in front of us?"

"He doesn't need a lecture," Steven said. "He needs a reason to stand up again."

There was a pause. Then Han gave a laugh -- not amused, not bitter. Just dry. Exhausted. "And you think that's you?"

Steven's voice didn't change. But his hands curled slightly at his sides. "Better me than someone who thinks being strong means acting like nothing ever hurts."

Han scoffed, eyes flicking away for a second before snapping back. "You're one to talk. You hover. You protect him like he's going to crack. Like he's fragile."

"He's not fragile."

"Then stop treating him like glass. Blades rust when you wrap them up."

Steven stepped forward. Not angry. But grounded. "And what -- you think sharpening him on your ego is the solution?"

"It's better than letting him rot in pity."

That landed. You could feel it. Like a stone in water -- rippling through the whole room.

Steven's voice dropped. "He's not weak."

"Then stop pretending he can't break."

Behind them, someone shifted on the bench. A cough. A breath held too long.

Steven took a slow step forward. "That's the problem, Han. You think if you just control him hard enough, you'll save him. Like he's a risk you can manage."

"And you think if you just love him enough, he'll magically make better choices?" Han shot back, rising from his chair.

"I think if he doesn't trust us, none of it matters."

Han's jaw clenched. "I don't need him to trust me. I need him to live."

Steven's voice rose  -- only slightly, but it was enough. "You say that like he's a machine. Like you can fix him with pacing charts and protein bars. He's not your broken project, Han."