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

Chapter 84: The Lowest Point

⚠️Content Warning ⚠️

The following chapters include medical trauma, physical rehabilitation, vomiting, loss of bodily control, caregiving, emotional outbursts, suicidal ideation, and intense emotional distress. Please read with caution and do not proceed if you are uncomfortable with any or all of these themes. 

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The apartment had never felt lonelier than when Han wheeled JL through the door for the first time. His discharge from the hospital had no pomp, just a bag of medication and a doctor's follow-up schedule. Han and Steven had shown up to drive him home, and they had decided it was best to move him into Han's apartment temporarily because his belongings where still there. 

The stairs had been their first defeat; Han had carried JL up while Steven managed the wheelchair below, their movements coordinated with the precision of people who'd learned to work together through necessity.

The others came that first day, bearing offerings like mourners at a wake. Woongki with his old plushie that had made rounds whenever someone was sick, now pressed into JL's unresponsive hands. Kyungho with noise-canceling headphones, as if the problem was external sound rather than the roaring silence in JL's head. Chih En methodically cataloguing all the medication and taking down notes. Jeongwoo with soft blankets, Juwon with extra groceries to stock the fridge. Shuaibo with cushions that would make sitting easier, if JL ever decided to sit as something other than a corpse.

They gathered in the living room, voices hushed, movements careful, everyone pretending this was temporary. That JL would snap out of it. That the boy who used to fill spaces with his laugh was just resting somewhere behind those vacant eyes.

But JL was gone.

His body occupied the chair,  slack and yielding as Han transferred him from bed to seat, pliant as a doll. When Woongki tried to make him laugh with an old inside joke, JL's face didn't even twitch. When Juwon mentioned practice, asked if he'd come watch, JL didn't reply.

Steven tried hardest. Of course he did.

At first, they took turns. His hands never hesitated when lifting JL, never fumbled with the medical supplies. He knew instinctively how to position pillows for comfort, when to offer water, how to fill silence without demanding engagement. He'd talk about meaningless things, the weather, a movie he'd watched, filling the silence without demanding responses.

Where Han moved with grim determination, Steven moved with natural grace.

"Let me," Steven would say, gently displacing Han from tasks. "I've got him."

And he did. Steven anticipated needs before they were voiced, cleaned messes before they could settle, spoke in soft tones that seemed to reach JL even in his darkest moments. When JL vomited that first week -- medication and misery combining -- Steven was there immediately with towels and soft words, cleaning his mouth with infinite care.