Chapter Text
The first thing Seungcheol noticed was the rhythmic beeping sound, but it didn‘t come from a speaker and it certainly didn‘t sound like any of their songs. No, this beeping had a far too annoying pitch to be from anything good in life.
The second thing Seungcheol noticed was the smell of antiseptic that was lingering in the air leaving no room for anything else.
That was when he remembered what had happened.
Content shoot. Ball game. The Fall. Pain. Hospital. MRI. Surgery.
He didn‘t know what exactly he was supposed to feel or think, too terrified to even open his eyes. He felt some sort of guilt, embarrassment even. He slipped on a wet patch of grass as he was about to kick the ball for the shoot and already in his slipping motion he heard a ‘pop‘ coming from his left knee, followed by immense pain the second he hit the ground. As he stayed down instead of getting up laughing, staff members began to pile around him as well as his group members to check up on him. He knew by their worried faces and the pain in his knee, this was not something a week of rest would fix. They rushed him to the nearest hospital, he was examined by multiple doctors, they did X-rays, they made him try several different motions but all of these tests just proved their suspicions: A torn ACL as well as his MCL most likely with Meniscus damage. The MRI fully confirmed the diagnoses in the end.
Choi Seungcheol's knee was properly done for.
Everything after the MRI went so fast he could barely remember it. His best option was supposedly surgery, they promised that it would stabilize his knee enough and if it healed properly and he had some luck he would be able to dance and perform again in the future. So he was wheeled off to surgery before he was even able to talk with any of his fellow members about it.
He convinced himself to finally open his eyes and was greeted with the blinding white lights on the ceiling. He blinked multiple times to adjust himself to the bright light that illuminated the room. He could feel that he was hooked up to some IV on his right arm and his knee felt more heavy than it should. He almost didn’t want to look, but when he did all he saw was a black bulky brace hugging his bandaged knee. He took in a sharp breath, even the smallest shifts sent sparks of pain through his entire leg. How will he dance again like this?
His door opened and a nurse followed by a doctor and his manager all stepped in.
“Choi Seungcheol-ssi, how are you feeling?“ the doctor asked as he stopped next to his bed. Seungcheol immediately tried to sit up, to not come across as rude, but the moment he tried he basically flinched back into his lying position.
“Ah it‘s better to not move around too much, till the painkillers take effect,“ the nurse supplied and she was quick to give him a second pillow so he was more in a sitting position to talk with them and he quietly thanked her.
“I have good news! The surgery was successful, we were able to repair both ligaments as well as your Meniscus tear. That means if you don‘t show any signs of inflammation then we can release you in… probably a few days. For now you shouldn‘t move the leg more than necessary and call for a nurse if you need anything,“ the doctor explained to him, looking at his tablet, which probably held all his information.
If Seungcheol was honest, he barely listened to what the people had to tell him. He wanted to leave, he just wanted his knee to be fine, to not hurt.
The nurse adjusted something with his IV before she left with the doctor, leaving him alone with his manager. His manager was talking about a hiatus till he was better, the people back at the company were already preparing a statement and he was supposed to keep a low profile on all social media platforms. Well he hadn‘t planned to send a selfie to carats laying in a hospital bed anyways.
A hiatus till he was better, they just assumed he would get better. But what when he didn‘t? How was no one worried about that outcome?
So for now he just nodded along, pretending like he was listening to the information that was raining in on him. They would send him the important bits as text regardless.
As his manager left the room it suddenly got very quiet, the beeping from earlier had stopped — the nurse had turned it off — so it was just himself with his breathing. He looked towards the window, he was unable to see what was on the outside except for the tops of a few trees.
He didn‘t know how long he just stared at those tree tops and how they tilted in the wind but his neck hurt as he turned it towards the opening door.
It was the nurse again.
“You have some visitors,“ she smiled as she held the door open for two people who quickly entered.
“Cheol-hyung!“ Seungkwan called out in excitement to see him, which got a small smile out of the leader. Of course he would be one of the first people to visit him. Seungkwan carried a small vase with fresh flowers which he put down next to the bed. Right behind him entered the second oldest member of Seventeen and Seungcheol would be lying if he said he wasn‘t at least a tiny bit happy to see the both of them.
“Hey Cheol,“ Jeonghan waved with a smile.
The energy both group members brought with them was warm and kind that people would describe it as full of sunshine and lighting up every room they entered, but even that would never be able to fully erase the dark clouds that hung over Seungcheol's mood in this moment of time.
He quickly grew tired of the smiling, the pretending he was fine when he clearly wasn‘t. He assured both of them that he would be okay, that everything went well and that the others, who as he was told were waiting down the hall in the waiting room, didn‘t have to worry. Was that the truth? He didn‘t even know himself.
The members visited him in groups, sometimes pairs, sometimes the room was full with 5 people, sometimes it was just Jeonghan. But he knew their schedules, that was his job, knowing where everyone was and if they were okay. So he also knew how packed with practices, studio visits and other appointments they were, which made him feel even worse. They willingly put more on their plates to visit him. He couldn‘t do much, he just sat there, talking, forcing smiles most of the time. What made him so interesting? His knee didn‘t magically cure itself, he couldn‘t walk yet and the day to day life of a hospital was far more boring than what all those medical dramas tried to make you believe.
Fortunately for Seungcheol his knee didn‘t show any signs of inflammation so he was discharged after 5 days. The nurse helped to pack his things and before she slipped out she shyly asked for an autograph. Seungcheol who sat in his wheelchair, his bag on his lap, stared at her for a moment. Of course she knew, probably everyone in this hospital knew who he was. He smiled regardless, giving a nod and then the asked for autograph before wheeling himself out. On the outside of his room his bodyguard was waiting for him together with his manager. His bodyguard's presence meant the press was already waiting downstairs, how they knew he was being discharged today was a mystery he didn‘t want the answer to.
His manager wheeled him over to the elevator that brought them to the ground floor with the big lobby. As the elevator door opened with a ‘ding‘ he was already able to spot the crowd of reporters at the doors outside through the glass walls. Those people have never heard of privacy, then again he had signed away most rights to that when he became an Idol. After taking a deep breath his manager began wheeling them towards the exit with the cameras waiting, Seungcheol pulled his mask up trying to hide away a bit more, then gave them the smallest wave as he was pushed past the cameras. His bodyguard placed himself in front of them to hide him even more as he got himself from the wheelchair into the car. As the door closed and he was hidden away behind the tinted windows he took off his mask, taking a proper breath again. His leg was sparking with pain as the car drove off, the vibrations irritating his sore muscles even more than the movement already had.
He arrived at home and slowly transferred himself back into his wheelchair, this time without being documented by the press. He thanked everyone before he wheeled himself inside his apartment complex. He took the elevator up and finally disappeared into his own four walls. The first thing he noticed is that someone cleaned up the place, it wasn‘t this clean when he left his apartment a week ago. There also was a chair in the shower and when he opened the fridge it was filled up with new food and snacks. Then he found the note on the kitchen counter:
I thought it was nicer for you to come back to a clean home that was ready for you and your recovery.
I hope you don‘t mind.
Get well soon! <3
— Hannie
Jeonghan really was two steps ahead of him sometimes. He texted him a thank you, before he wheeled over to his bed.
Even this little movement from the building to the car and the other way around was exhausting and painful if you haven‘t properly moved for a week. How he hated it. He used to be able to dance and practice the entire day and barely had any sore muscles from it and now he was in pain from not laying still.
Seungcheol fell asleep quickly once he had made it to his bed and he slept till midday the next day. He was woken up by a stabbing pain in his knee that made him sit up straight within seconds. He had turned around in his sleep ending up on the side and his injured knee hit the mattress in a weird angle, he sighed and reached to his night stand taking the first dose of his pain medication for the day.
Today his doctor would come around, explaining how the recovery process would work and give him his physiotherapy schedule, now that he was out of the hospital. Exciting, really.
He got changed — it took him ages to change his pants with the knee — and wheeled to the kitchen to make himself some breakfast.
It didn‘t take long for the doorbell to ring, Seungcheol opened the door and let his doctor inside his apartment.
“How are you doing, Choi-ssi? I assume it‘s good to be back at home,“ the doctor smiled as he put down his bag. Why did everyone want to know how he was feeling? Wasn’t it obvious?
“Well it would be better if I could walk through my home,“ Seungcheol replied dryly, which made the older man chuckle.
“I understand your frustration. The hospital sent me your patient file and I have already spoken with a good friend of mine. She is a very skilled and kind physiotherapist who offered to get your knee up to speed again, starting tomorrow.“ Tomorrow he could start to get back to his old self, to get back to his group, his life.
“You should get your crutches tomorrow from her and you can start walking around again, just no full weight on the knee. But I‘m afraid it will take a long time for you to walk properly though. And I am not even mentioning dancing or performing yet. It can take everything from a few months to a year to get it back to the original state your knee was in. You will need to be careful with your knee movement, every sudden bend or twist could tear your ACL or MCL again while it is this fragile.“
A year. He could become useless for a year and that was if he recovered.
He wanted to scream. Scream at the doctor, at his knee and maybe the ball game that had caused all of this stupidity but mainly he wanted to just scream at the world.
How did he deserve this?
The answer was simple: He didn‘t.
But that would not change what had happened.