Burnout ⊗ Jeongchan

④④ Once More, with Feeling

As soon as he stirred, a rush of nausea swept from the top of his pounding head to his numb feet. Before he could do so much as think through the haze clouding his mind, Jeongin fought the lead in muscles, managed to wrestle the car door open in time, and emptied what little was in his stomach on the floors of the shop.

With weak swears slurring from his mouth, body shaking from the violent heaving and heart just about ready to tear itself to shreds, Jeongin settled on his chest to lay across the backseats. Hands coming to cover his head in hopes to hide himself from the sheer light breaking his retinas, he managed to move his right arm but his left didn't respond to his plea. It laid limp by his side, barely a flinch to prove the arm was still functioning. Slowly, as his consciousness was grounded back to reality and the numbness in his veins wore off, the sweeping pain was beginning to set in as if his shoulder was being dipped into a scalding vat that spread and tripped at any attempt at movement. With no other option but to be still in order to not agitate the already mind numbing strain, his gaze searched the car.

The window was busted. As if a spiderweb was crawling inside the glass, shattered lines and broken chunks weaved skillfully together, struck by something. Repeatedly. Again and again. Jeongin was conscious enough to note the lack of debris on the handle and seats; the window was shattered from the inside out. As if something was trying to escape. But, the doors were locked, and Jeongin was the only one inside.

His responsive hand gripped at his hair, an irritation setting in with shaky gasps as he desperately tried to recall anything of the night before. The hub, strangers, he wanted freedom, he wanted something to stop, what did he want to stop? He could barely make out the outline of the shop in his memories, he was angry, more than he ever has been before, he hit a blob. What blob? He checked his hands, knuckles bruised and fingers cold, but nothing of the blob. What did he hit? Did he hit anything? From there, a large gap vacated his memories from then till he woke up in the car. A weight filled the pocket of Chan's jacket but no recollection of what it was. His hand tugged at his hair, heart beginning to thunder along to the racing of his hazy mind; remember... rememb... remem... rem... Fuck! Brain, focus!

A light rapping at the window of the door stung into his eardrums, pulling him up from his thoughts to Changbin who was waiting in the opening of the car door. He stared at the younger for a few seconds with a terrifyingly serious look to his eyes, scanning him for a few seconds before asking quietly, "Can you move?"

"My shoulder," Jeongin winced as he spoke. Beyond the agonizing situation happening in his arm, he came to realize his mouth felt like a desert. Any time he tried to speak, the dry and course sand screamed against his throat. Another thing on the list of problems. Bad shoulder, painful voice, swollen eyes, what else was to be added? What else did he not know?

It wasn't long before he got the curt answer, "Yeah. You shattered my window, probably dislocated the joint."

What?

"Do you remember?"

He shook his head, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he sqeezed his eyes shut tight and tried again to remember the gaps. Did he elbow someone? But beyond that, nothing more. His hand began shaking as he clutched as his chest, opened his eyes to stare at the street racer, and whispered, "No."

That serious look in his features suddenly softened, as if a realization dawned on him within that one moment. Changbin balanced a knee on the seats, careful not to strike him or lock the strands of hair to the cushion as he silently helped the younger sit up against the back of the seats. He said something as he gently gripped the younger's limp arm, mentioning to 'stay still', but his dazed head not fully registering just what the racer was doing until the pain in his shoulder intensified and he yelped, sending a strong kick to the seat in front of him as he tried to grip Changbin with his free hand. All he kept hearing was a reassuring chant of 'You're okay', 'breathe', 'you need to relax', and none of it really helping because the pain in the shoulder suddenly became he least of his worries.