[fic] Minho/Key – SHINee – High Maintenance Extras 5/?

[rabenhorst]

Title: High Maintenance Extras 5/? (aka ficlets where their story goes on)
Author: fonulyn
Rating: PG13
Pairing: Minho/girl!Key (Minho/Gwiboon)
Other characters: brief mentions of others, OCs
Warnings: original character death (if you want a more specific warning, please message me and I’ll gladly explain!)
Wordcount: 3324
Disclaimer: I own no one, only my dirty imagination.
Summary: Sometimes things go wrong for no apparent reason. All they can do is deal.
Comments: Another addition to the High Maintenance -verse. This has been brewing in the back of my mind for months, but I didn’t have the courage to write it before now. It needed a way out, though, so here we are :)

”Could you grab Seungwon’s toy bag, Minho?” Gwiboon calls, making sure to raise her voice so it carries all the way from the kitchen to the hall. “I’m almost done with the food, just give me a second to pack it!” she goes on after a beat, and hears Minho’s call of acknowledgement in a moment. She smiles to herself as she piles the sandwiches into a lunchbox, making sure to double-check that they have enough juice and crackers for both the kids and the adults. They’ve been planning this trip for weeks, to spend some time with Jonghyun’s family, so the children can play together. Despite the age difference, the triplets absolutely adore Jonghyun’s twins, and they all seem to enjoy the time with each other. It’s going to be a relief, too, as the twins are old enough to keep an eye on the triplets for at least some of the time, letting the adults have a bit of rest. Gwiboon hasn’t been in this good mood in ages, really, not with the pregnancy hormones hitting her with full force. It’s only one this time, that much they know for sure, but it seems that the new baby is single-handedly causing more moodswings than the triplets did together. Humming a little, Gwiboon turns to fill a glass with water, remembering that she’s supposed to take the daily vitamins like she’s been instructed. She keeps experiencing discomfort, and absent-mindedly wonders if she should bring it up with the doctor during the next appointment, when she’s interrupted by a wave of agony. With a breathless gasp she bends forward, her hands flying to the swell of her stomach. Another wave comes, a cramp that makes her whole body clench with its force, and she only manages another weak little sound as she grabs the counter for support with one hand, the other still on her belly. Distantly he hears someone speak, but can’t really focus on it. Tears are burning in the corners of her eyes, and she bites her lip harshly in an attempt to gain control over it. That is when Hyoyoung suddenly appears, her eyes wide, her little mouth shaped into a shocked ‘O’. “Mommy?” she tries, weakly, clutching the gigantic pony plushie in her arms for comfort. She’s never seen her mother like this, and it must scare her, and it’s only with that thought in mind that Gwiboon manages some semblance of a smile. “Ger daddy, sweetie, please,” she gasps out, miraculously managing to get the words out at least remotely clearly. “Quick!” For the next few moments Gwiboon only focuses on breathing through the waves of cramps. It’s only when there’s a hand on her shoulder that she realizes Minho is there, looking at her worriedly from huge eyes. “Minho,” she gasps, “something’s wrong.” - Gwiboon is in labour. It’s the first thing they tell her when she gets rushed into the hospital and examined. She’s in labour and she needs to give birth even though it’s not yet time. She keeps repeating the words in her mind, not yet not yet not yet not yet, but it’s not like she has any choice in the matter. Something has triggered the whole process and there’s no way to reverse it. Somewhere halfway through the ordeal, she registers one of the nurses taking Minho to the side, talking to him in low and hushed voices. She wants to ask what’s going on, but she forgets it soon enough, as she focuses on pushing. Their daughter enters the world at ten past eleven in the morning. She leaves it sixty-two minutes later. - The sheets are bundled around Gwiboon, pillows piled up against the headboard behind her to give her something to lean on as she half-sits-half-lies on the hospital bed. She’s a mess of sweat and tears and whatelse, but she refuses to get up to do something about it. All she can do is sit there, hands over her stomach, trying to comprehend what just went down. Minho sits with her. They don’t speak at all at first, both of them too lost in thought. Minho only picks up the phone once, to make a couple of phone calls. First he calls Taeyeon to ask her if they can take care of the triplets for the whole night. Make it a sleepover. Minho isn’t going to leave his wife’s bedside tonight if he can help it. Then he calls his mother, and has to explain the situation to her, to ask her if she could come stay with them for a while, to take care of the kids while Gwiboon remains hospitalized. At first Gwiboon stares at the clock on the wall, willing it to go faster. She tries to focus on every passing minute, so that the thoughts nagging in the back of her mind won’t take the forefront. She can still hear her mother’s voice in her head, exactly like it had been those months ago when they’d met on the parking lot. “You do know you’re not supposed to lift things when you’re pregnant? Even your children.” The words keep repeating in her mind, again and again. Not supposed to lift things. You do know. Not supposed to. She grips the sheets in her lap, knuckles white, and squeezes her eyes shut. It’s like the words have been burned on the insides of her eyelids, in bursts of colour that make her head spin. It’s overwhelming, and although she’s been eerily still up until now, after the whole ordeal, all it takes is a soft touch from Minho to send her into panic. “I’m so sorry!” she cries as soon as Minho is back by her side, and throws herself into his arms. He might not want her anymore after this, he might never be able to forgive her, but she can’t hold on to the blame herself any longer. It’s been less than five hours, yet she’s already feeling it crushing her down. Immediately Minho is hugging her tight, his palm in the back of her head to hold her close against his chest. He’s rocking her before he even makes a conscious decision to do it, the urge to protect so typical for him. “What are you talking about?” he asks, completely bewildered. “I’m sorry,” Gwiboon whispers, between sobs she can’t bite back any longer. “I killed her. I killed our baby.” “What!?” Minho starts. His hand stills in Gwiboon’s hair, and for a heart-shattering moment she’s sure that this is it, now she’ll never get to feel that again, as her grief-muddled mind is so lost in her own guilt. Minho pushes her a bit further, but only to be able to look her in the eye. “Stop saying things like that. You didn’t do this.” “B-but I did,” she gasps, tears falling freely down her cheeks now. With choked voice she explains, tells him about how she kept picking the triplets up, kept carrying them and lifting them, although she wasn’t supposed to. She wasn’t supposed to. She keeps talking until her voice is barely hiccups and rambly words, and that’s when he pulls her back to his chest. Minho hugs her tighter for a second, before speaking in what he hopes is a calm and convincing tone. “Listen to me now, Gwiboon. You didn’t cause this. There’s no way anyone could’ve predicted this. It’s not your fault.” “But—“ “It’s not.” All fight goes out of her at that, and she doesn’t try to argue. Minho knows that this isn’t likely it, even if he’s gotten through to her and managed to make her accept the thought. It’ll take a lot longer to wade through all the guilt and the misery buried inside. He’s not sure how they’ll work through it, but he knows they will. They’ll just need time to mourn. So he keeps holding her, rocking her slowly, lets her cry, and she hugs him as if he might suddenly disappear. In all honesty, he’s not sure which of them needs the closeness more. - Neither of them is up for any visitors that day, and they spend the majority of it not even talking, only soaking up each other’s presence. In the evening Minho grabs something to eat from the cafeteria, but ends up eating the food brought to Gwiboon as she steals his sandwich. It’s surprisingly laid back, even though they both feel the tears brimming just below the surface. The next morning Taeyeon appears with the triplets. Hyoyoung immediately makes a strangled little sound and darts across the hospital room to the bed, and is already struggling to climb up on it when Minho has mercy on her and lifts her to sit beside her mother. She wraps her chubby little arms around Gwiboon’s neck, hugging her a little too tight to be comfortable. Not that Gwiboon minds. She hugs her daughter back, hiding her struggle with tears into the little girl’s hair. Meanwhile Soojin and Seungwon have approached as well, and Minho lifts both of them on the bed as well, taking the chair for himself. As soon as everyone’s been hugged thoroughly Hyoyoung still remains rooted in Gwiboon’s lap, while the other two take their places next to their mother. “I just wanted to drop them off,” Taeyeon says and smiles softly. She approaches long enough to give both Minho and Gwiboon quick hugs, but doesn’t intend to stay longer. “I’m heading back to work, but if you need anything just give me a call. Or Jonghyun. He’s worried sick, too.” “Thank you.” Gwiboon manages even a small smile, honestly grateful. Taeyeon only waves it aside and leaves, clearly a little shaken as well. “Why are you crying?” Seungwon asks as soon as they’re alone, looking mournfully at the large tears on Gwiboon’s cheeks. He reaches out, like he wants to grab them or wipe them away, but can’t really reach far enough and thus settles for grabbing a fistful of the blanket over Gwiboon’s knees. Gwiboon smiles through the tears. “Because I’m sad,” she answers truthfully. “But,” she goes on after a beat, ruffling the little boy’s hair and laughing as it makes him squirm a little, “I’m also happy that you’re all here with me.” “Go on,” Soojin says firmly, nudging her brother’s side with her little elbow. It’s supposed to be an encouraging gesture, apparently, but it’s a little too harsh and Seungwon pushes her in retaliation. It makes Soojin huff and cross her arms, but she still looks at her brother insistently. “Give mommy another hug!” Seungwon looks a little confused, but does as he’s told, climbing closer until he can hug her awkwardly around the waist. “Good,” Soojin says with a nod, and drops her voice into what’s probably supposed to be a conspiratorial whisper, “hugs make everything better!” She pats Gwiboon’s knee herself, trapped behind her brother so that she can’t go for a hug herself. The words make Gwiboon laugh, and Minho is grinning from ear to ear as well. “You’re really good at this,” Minho says, and the children all beam proudly. “Mommy is a lot happier now that you’re here.” “You need to hug her too!” Hyoyoung announces loudly. Graciously she leaves her place – for a moment at least – and allows Minho to lean in to hug his wife. As soon as it’s done she returns to her original place, like glued to her mother’s side. “We can have more hugs later,” she decides with a firm nod. They do. They have a lot of hugs later. The children get tired though and Minho volunteers to take them home while going to pick up his mother from the train station. She’s promised to take care of the children for as long as is necessary. With a promise to come back later Minho leaves, taking the grumbling and complaining little ones with him. Left alone to her devices makes Gwiboon feel like this is all unreal, none of it can be even happening. As long as she’s surrounded by the people she loves she’s hanging on fine, but now… The silence in the room is almost eerie, and she switches on the TV only to have some noise in the background. She can’t be alone with her own thoughts. Not quite yet. - Over the next few days things remain largely the same. Jinki visits a couple of times, always promising to always be in reach via a phone call if needed. The children visit every day, sometimes with Minho and sometimes with Minho’s mother, sometimes with both. They seem to be taking the healing hugs thing seriously, judging by the amount of time they spend clinging on to Gwiboon during their visits. Gwiboon is promised she’ll be discharged in a week or so, definitely not much more, as soon as everything seems to be properly under control. As Minho has to go back to work, she’s left with a lot of time by herself, even with the visitors. The silence never gets easier. - Gwiboon doesn’t really know how long she’s been alone, staring out of the window, before there’s a soft knock on the door. “Come in,” she says, distractedly, as she’s not really expecting anyone at this time of the day. She doesn’t look at the door at first, but when a soft hello is spoken, her head snaps around to stare at the visitor. Her mother. “If you’re here for the I-told-you-so, you can leave now.” Gwiboon tries to keep her voice steady but she’s not entirely certain it works. She turns back to the curtains, keeps staring at them, watches the folds in the white fabric, how they move a little with the breeze. She’d been lucky to get such a nice room, she knows. She just doesn’t feel any of it. There’s a slow movement in the corner of her eye, but Gwiboon stubbornly doesn’t look over even when there’s an additional weight on the edge of the mattress. She doesn’t pull away when her hand is taken, though, lets her mother’s thin fingers squeeze her own. It’s not comfort, not really, but it makes everything feel somehow more tangible. They’ve never been a family that touches, really. She doesn’t even remember when her mother, or her father, would’ve last touched her with any degree of warmth. Compared to that the way her mother cradles her hand feels like something huge. She doesn’t know how to react, so she just sits there, afraid to shift for fear that the dormant emptiness within might flare up again. “I’m not here to hurt you, Gwiboon,” Mrs Kim says slowly, words measured as they drop into the silence one by one. “I’m here because I know what you’re going through.” The words stir something in Gwiboon’s chest and she turns to finally look at her mother. Mrs Kim has her head bowed, her eyes focused on their joined hands, as if she can find some strength there. She looks much more fragile than Gwiboon has ever seen her, her hair streaked with hints of grey, her shoulders hunched in a way they’ve never been. “You weren’t my firstborn.” It’s spoken softly, but it’s as if someone punched Gwiboon in the chest. She stares at her mother, quiet, waiting. It only takes a moment until Mrs Kim goes on. “When I married your father I was… expecting. He didn’t know it first, but I confessed to him the day before the wedding and he,” her voice chokes up a little, and she needs to swallow before going on, “he didn’t care. He married me anyway. He said we’d make it work, that no one would need to know.” This is all new information for Gwiboon but she doesn’t push. She waits. “No one did get to know,” Mrs Kim says, finally looking up to meet her daughter’s gaze, “I miscarried five months after the wedding. We never spoke of it since.” She smiles, the twitch to her lips barely even there, and pats Gwiboon’s hand lightly. “I just thought you deserved to hear it. I know I’m not your first choice as a confidante now, maybe I never was. But I am here if you need me.” Dumbly, Gwiboon nods. She doesn’t know what to say, how to react, so she doesn’t. It doesn’t seem to matter, as Mrs Kim has now said her piece and is already moving to stand up. She leans down to press her lips to Gwiboon’s forehead, in a wordless goodbye, and simply turns around to walk out of the room. Gwiboon watches her back until the door swings shut. - It’s already dark outside when Minho comes to visit next. He doesn’t say anything in greeting, only smiles at Gwiboon from the doorway, before quickly crossing the room to sit beside her. It’s the best part of her day, really, when she gets to lean against him, his arms wrapped around her in a semblance of safety. She closes her eyes, buries her nose into Minho’s shirt and inhales slowly. “They said you’ll be discharged tomorrow,” Minho says softly, his hand drawing circles on her back. “They couldn’t give me a time yet, but you can just call me. Jonghyun promised he’d hold up the business for me whenever I need to go.” “Okay,” she says, nodding a little. She is ready to go home. As much as this is all new, confusing and painful, she misses her children and her home and her own bed. Maybe going back to the normal routines will help her to get a proper grasp of her life again. “How long is your mom staying?” “As long as you need her, she says,” Minho answers, and presses his face into her hair for a second. “She said you should kick her out the second she becomes a nuisance, though. Until then you have free reign over bossing her around.” The words make Gwiboon smile, and she chuckles softly. “Good to know that. I might not be fit enough to cook yet.” It’s a weak joke, but it makes them both smile regardless, and that’s about all they can manage right now. Gwiboon has heard of people that got ripped away from one another by a tragedy like this, but somewhere deep down she knows they’ll be fine. If anything, they’re leaning on each other a little more through this. “Speaking of mothers,” she says after a pause. “Mine visited.” Minho tenses palpably. “Oh?” “She was…” Gwiboon searches for words, fingers splayed over Minho’s abdomen, absently toying with the thin shirt. “She was good, actually. Said she’d be there for me.” A part of her knows it’s too little too late, and she knows it’s what Minho is also thinking. Yet another, far bigger, part of her still yearns to have some kind of connection with her only remaining parent, regardless of how feeble. She doesn’t see any heart-to-hearts in their immediate future, but maybe they can learn to navigate this one day. Maybe the children will get to have two grandmothers, after all. “It’s… good,” Minho says, belatedly. It sounds so hesitant that Gwiboon can’t help but chuckle. “It’s a step. It’s not like we’re going to have happy family dinners with her anytime soon but… I think I’d like to try. At least, you know, see where it leads.” It’s easier to think about fixing things with her mother than what just hit them, the past trauma scabbed over in a way the recent one hasn’t had the chance to yet. There’ll be a time for that, too. Time to deal, time to process, time to heal. “We can do that,” Minho says. He tightens his arm around her, hugging her a little closer. “We can definitely do that.” She knows they can. Together. For every step of the way.

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…I’m sorry?