Namjoon's Chance • KNJ

Seven

The last week had went more quickly than you'd thought possible. Kim Woochun had scheduled the biopsy and with it only another week away you felt like you had too much to do.  You wanted to check things off your list but it seemed your husband had other plans.

Jackson had been frantically working every moment, writing songs, recording. Dozens of artists and producers from Team Wang had been in and out of your apartment all hours of the day and night. Aside from his managers no one knew about his health, they all just seemed to think he'd had a burst of inspiration.

You'd finally had to leave the frustration of too many people in your space overwhelming you. Hobi had invited you over for lunch and you gratefully accepted. When you'd arrived you'd told told him quickly about Jackson, avoiding details that made you feel like crying. You'd left out the sex with Joon and the altercation, instead said that Jackson had slammed into the bathroom door after drinking too much.

"I'm so sorry babe, it must feel like your world is tilted on it's side." Hobi hugged you, his warm sunshine surrounding you in that moment.

"Jackson's the one dealing with the tumor, but I am angry Hobi. I didn't expect to feel resentful of him immediately!" Your eyes widened saying the words out loud, you'd not even said them to yourself yet.

It was true, in just seven days you'd become upset with your husband. Irritated with how he was handling things and you'd not had anyone to talk to about it. You were still being cautious around Joon, even though you'd made up he still wasn't talking to Jackson. On top of that when you did talk to Joon you felt apprehensive because you didn't want to make him feel guilty he'd broken his best friend's nose.

"You're going through it too Y/N. He might be physically experiencing the pain but you're dealing with the interruption to your life as well." Hobi squeezed your arm then slid another dish of colorful food your way.

"I just think he should want to spend more time with me. I thought we'd be trying to figure out what we both need to get through the next few months. There's so much I don't know about his business and his plans. But all he wants to do it lock himself in the studio 20 hours a day." You lifted noodles to your mouth then set your chopsticks down, no longer hungry.

"It's his legacy babe. He knows he's going to be leaving this world a lot sooner than he'd planned and he wants to leave it with something that matters." Hobi spoke so gently tears filled your eyes, he'd stopped eating too and was watching you thoughtfully.

"What you want to do makes perfect sense, arrange the details now that he might not have the energy to arrange later. But what he wants makes sense too. He has managers that will make any arrangement he needs them to, but how long before he can't do the things he has to do on his own? How long before he can't sing,  write, or dance?" Hobi had slid his chair closer to yours and cupped your cheeks in his palms, talking to you like you might break.

"But why not spend time with me? What about the gas pedal pressed to the floor on our time?"

"That's the easiest thing to answer babe," Hobi kissed your forehead then released you sliding back in front of his plate, "he knows you're by his side until the end. You're the only thing he can count on not having an expiration."

"I just want more of his time." You knew Hobi was right, Jackson wasn't worried about you because he knew you'd never abandon him no matter how awful things became.

"What would you do if cancer wasn't in the equation right now? What did you do when he made his last album and was crazy busy?" He'd resumed eating, you wished your own appetite would be more dependable.

"I told him I missed him and I made him come to dinner every night."

"Well the one thing that hasn't changed is that he's still your husband. Cancer or no cancer, tell him what you need."

"You're right Hobi, I'm suffering in silence and I don't have to do that." The thought was comforting, and the warmth of your conversation with Hobi spread through you.

"Will you please tell Yoongi that I'm right?" Hobi laughed genuinely.

"How do you get him out of the studio?" You both winced knowing what a workaholic Yoongi was the majority of the time.

"I threaten him with taking away his favorite thing."

"Sex?" You raised a brow at him grinning for what felt like the first time all day.

"And punish myself? Hell no. I stop buying his favorite coffee. Works every time."

~

When you got home later that afternoon your apartment was the same ground zero of chaos as when you left. You straightened your shoulders, remembering that Hobi said. He was still your husband, and you were pulling the wife card. You reached his studio door, confidence still brimming and pushed the doorbell that would alert the occupants that someone outside wanted in.

"Hey Y/N, come in, Jackson is recording but he should be done in a couple minutes." Jay B's warm smile greeted you a moment later when the door swung open.

You followed him into the room, other producers you knew were sitting on couches, some leaned against the wall. Everyone was watching Jackson behind the glass singing, the sound filling the space. It was beautiful and suddenly all the fight you felt was gone. Seeing him doing what he loved, and realizing that in a matter of weeks he may not be able to do it left you not caring if he stayed behind that glass every second he could.

Within a few minutes the track ended and when Jackson turned, probably looking for Jay B, he noticed you. Seeing the way his face lit up, a smile that spread so easily across his handsome features, made you feel as giddy as the first time he'd hit you with it in Joon's studio. He waved and immediately made his way to the door, coming into the room.

Jackson walked right up to you, stopping in front of you his hand curling around your waist protectively. He hugged you against his chest, ignoring that you were not alone, rather surrounded by at least six guys.

"Dinner breaks, I promise, I'm so sorry I've put you through this the last week." Jackson whispered the words against your ear, his breath warming you. You'd not said a word, but the fact that he'd known exactly how you were feeling spoke to how well you were in tune with each other.

"No, that's not why I-"

"Guys, I've forgotten what a beautiful wife I have waiting for me, let's break at 7 for dinner, pick it back up around 8?" Murmurs of agreement filled the room and Jackson kissed the side of your head. "Line up the track again Jay B?" With a soft squeeze against your hip Jackson was headed back into the booth and you almost laughed. Just because he was sweet didn't mean he wasn't focused.

At seven everyone emerged as promised, headed for the door, likely to find food downstairs or nearby. Within a couple minutes the apartment was empty, blissfully silent and just the two of you again. You'd made a simple dinner, knowing Jackson was less hungry every day.

"I've been a jerk, I'm sorry Aein." He'd settled into the chair across from you at the dinner table.

"I've been the jerk, silently resenting you when all I needed to do was tell you I missed you. I'm sorry darling." You took his hand across the table and sighed.

"We'll get better at this, we have to stop tiptoeing around each other's feelings. A month ago we wouldn't have done it, but now that cancer is on the table we don't know how to treat each other. We'll do better." Jackson squeezed your hand, saying exactly what you needed to hear, Hobi had been precisely right.

"I want you to spend every single second that you still can doing what you love."

"I love you Aein. Dinner breaks and in bed by eleven every night. We won't start until nine, just like with the last album." Jackson had begun eating, and it gave you a tiny frisson of hope.

"When are you going to tell them?" You didn't want to bring up anything unpleasant but what was the point? Your whole life was inevitably going to be beyond unpleasant in the coming weeks.

"After the biopsy I'll tell them. I think we both know how it's going to turn out, but I'd like to pretend just another week that it won't." The hope popped like a bubble with his words and you watched your husband's face seeing how he would react.

Jackson looked calm, he was looking at you back, and you recognized it as his reassuring face. He was trying to convince you that because he was alright, you'd be alright too. For a week, you'd let him believe he still held that power.