June 8th, 2010

because i love you

so.... after this week i'm going to be gone for about a month.... maybe more. and in that month i won't be able to write or do anything, so! i've decided ((since i love you)) that i'm going to post two chapters from Hello. i know i was saying all that stuff about "x number of comments or RAWR D:< *nomnomnom*" but... honestly my self esteem hits the floor with my writing and i'm REALLY REALLY REALLY excited about this new fic <3 it's mostly written, so updates will be fast.

i'll post the first two chapters before i leave, and if i'm happy with the feedback i'll put up another two when i get back. think of it as a compensation of sorts for being gone ;]

i WILL however, be sticking to the comment policy about the LFW update. 4 more comments guys. it's not that hard ((actually 3 because my chalaina loves me enough to leave a comment on my post in [info]crankdatmanboob :3 ACHIEVED!!!

so without further ado, i present to you my newest and most favorite fanfic: Hello

Title: Hello
Length: [1/?]
Author: HolyStarDown
Pairing: Yunjae 
Rating: Overall NC-17
Genre: Psychological, romance, angst, drama
Disclaimer: if i owned them i would be posting HD videos, not fics 
Summary: Love knows no boundaries; it reaches the good, the broken, the hopeless, and even the insane
Author's Note: I'M. EXCITED.



“It’s a real shame…”

 

“He was one of their best…”

 

“Did you hear what happened?”

 

“One of his psychiatrist’s other patients killed him…”

 

“Shot the poor thing right in front of him…”

 

“Such a shame…”

 

 

January 4, 2003

Jung Yunho M.D, Psychiatry

Entry One

 

As requested by Dr. Shim, I have started this journal for a self-analysis of my own mental health. He has requested that I write down all of my thoughts and verbalize my emotions as they come to me as well as writing things that bother me during the day. Well Changmin… here you go: I think this is a waste of my time. I know I’m not at risk for a breakdown and I think we can both agree that it was bound to come to him eventually. He empathized too much with his patients; got too involved. His last case was just enough to finally push him over the edge. We’ve been told from day one to never get too attached to our patients, but he just couldn’t stop himself. It wasn’t necessarily a character flaw, just something you can’t have if you want to be in our profession.

 

Then again, I do have to admit his last case was a special one. He couldn’t tell much about the case (at least he followed one of the rules to a T) and I can’t draw many conclusions on my own without really analyzing the patient’s behavior for myself… Aish… I don’t know where I’m going with this.

 

Dinner when I get home. Feeling: Fine.

Sleep at some point tonight. Feeling: Fine.

New patient tomorrow. Feeling: Fine.

Overall feeling of the day: Dr. Shim needs to stop making his doctors do patient work.

 

January 5, 2003

Entry Two

 

I felt like getting this out of the way for the day, so I decided to write my “thoughts and feelings” first thing this morning when I got into the office. Feeling: Fine. I thought my alarm was too loud when I woke up as usual. I thought breakfast was a little burnt this morning. I’m not any closer to a mental breakdown than I was yesterday if that’s what you’re looking for in these, and I can guarantee that I won’t be any closer tomorrow or the next day either. Oh, and don’t get used to these being as long as the one I wrote yesterday. Dr. Shim said at least one entry a day; he never said a word about how long those had to be.

 

January 5, 2003

Entry Three

 

New patient didn’t come to his session today. It’s not uncommon for a patient to skip, just a little aggravating that they waste an hour of our time when we could be meeting with someone else.

 

On a better note: one of my other patients made some progress today. Kim Heechul didn’t see his Chinese “friend” during his session this afternoon. The medication seems to be gradually reducing his hallucinations, but I cannot be certain until he shows any other signs that it is working.

 

January 6, 2003

Entry Four

 

New patient didn’t attend his session again today. Since he is still a minor, I called his parents and voiced my concern for him not attending and about them letting him do so. His mother sounded shocked to hear it, which is strange since she claimed that she dropped him off at the front doors at exactly 9:30am and picked him up at 10:45am in the same place. She has agreed to take him directly to my office to insure that he attends tomorrow.

 

January 7, 2003

Entry Five

 

I decided to come in early this morning to look over my new patient’s file. It’s strange that I haven’t done that already… What if he had come on his first day? Or his second? I wouldn’t have been very prepared; I don’t know a single thing about him except that he doesn’t feel obligated to come to his sessions. As for how I feel: fine. I’m just a little eager to meet my new patient.

 

January 7, 2003

Entry Six

 

I ended up learning a lot about him today as I expected. His file told me that his name is Kim Jaejoong, 17 years old, adopted at age four, B/C averages in every grade… perfectly normal. But then, just about every one of my patient’s files sounds normal. It usually isn’t until you meet with the patient that someone can tell that they need psychiatric help. Jaejoong was no different.

 

My secretary let me know when his mother brought him in, so I decided to meet them out in the lobby to formally introduce myself to both of them. His mother was all tight smiles and sharp movements (obviously anxious about their situation) while Jaejoong was just quiet. The hood of his black jacket was pulled fully over his head and his dark hair fell gently over the rest of his face, blocking all but his plush lips from my view. It wasn’t until I had taken him into my office and shut the door behind him that I got to see the rest of Jaejoong’s face. He was… beautiful. All wide eyes and porcelain skin. But most of all he just looked… like a very shy child, and in a way I guess he was.

 

I already wrote the highlights of our session in my case log but… I feel like writing it here too. Like Dr. Shim said: “write what you feel Yunho.” Well, here you go.

 

Jaejoong didn’t say a word as he stood in my office, staring at the floor with his wide eyes and shifting his gaze every few seconds.

 

“Take a seat Jaejoong,” I said gently and gestured to the black couch across from my chair.

 

He hesitated a moment before finally following my instruction. He curled up slowly on the satin cushions and wrapped his arms around his knees before resting his chin between his arms, every muscle in his body on edge and ready to move at a moment’s notice. He still didn’t say a word.

 

I finally decided to ask him a question when I was certain he wouldn’t start this off on his own. Scribbling a few notes on my notepad, I looked up at my patient and let my words flow. “Do you know why you’re here Jaejoong?”

 

“Because I hear voices.”

 

My eyes widened slightly at just how… gentle his voice was. His looks were incredibly feminine, yes, but I just wasn’t expecting that. Still, I couldn’t let that distract me from what he said. I cleared my throat and pushed my glasses back up, writing a little bit more in my notes as I did so. “Do you hear the voices now?” I asked.

 

“Yes.”

 

The watch on my wrist ticked silent seconds away. “What are they telling you?”

 

For a fleeting second I thought Jaejoong would finally meet my gaze, but the trickle of hope was soon lost when he just shifted his eyes to stare at the tree in the corner of my office. “They’re saying… that you’re trying to fix me.”

 

I nodded and offered him a smile. “I am.”

 

Jaejoong’s face only looked more like a confused child than it did when he first walked in. Again he considered his words carefully before letting them slip from his tongue. “Why are you trying to fix me? I’m not broken.”

 

He didn’t say anything else or look at me for the rest of his session.

 

January 8, 2003

Entry Seven

 

Didn’t sleep much last night. Feeling: Tired. Came in to the office early this morning because I had nothing else to do. I did have an interesting conversation with Dr. Lee in the lobby though, and we both agree on something: Dr. Shim shouldn’t make doctors working under him waste their time writing their thoughts and feelings in a journal every day. Really, it’s unnecessary.

 

January 8, 2003

Entry Eight

 

I made some progress on Jaejoong’s case this morning. It’s minor, but considering that today was only the second day I’ve been seeing him, anything is an improvement. At least he answered more of my questions today.

 

“So Jaejoong, tell me about these voices you hear,” I asked him after he got into his curled-up position from yesterday. For some reason the green color of his jacket drew my focus to the plush lips resting just above his fabric covered arms as he spoke.

 

“What about them?” he asked quietly.

 

“Anything. Is there anything in particular that stands out when they talk to you?”

 

Jaejoong stopped to think for a moment, his eyes narrowing at my shoelaces. “There are four of them,” he finally shared.

 

“Just four?”

 

“Micky, Xiah, Choikang,” Jaejoong said without missing a beat.

 

My eyebrow lifted in confusion and my voice dropped slightly. “Excuse me?”

 

“Their names. Micky, Xiah, Choikang,” he repeated. How strange…

 

“That’s only three Jaejoong,” I said as I scribbled notes onto the paper in my lap.

 

“I don’t know the fourth one’s name.” His eyes slipped closed and his head fell to the side to rest in his arms. If I didn’t know any better, I would have sworn that he’d fallen asleep. Still, I kept questioning him.

 

“How do you know their names?” I asked.

 

Only his lips moved when he answered, forming words in his gentle voice. “They told me,” he said cautiously.

 

I scribbled in my notes once more, drawing the characters slowly as I asked another question. “Hasn’t the other told you its name?”

 

“No.” Jaejoong snuggled his face deeper into his arms and an expression of contentment seemed to flash onto his face for a split second. “This is his favorite color.”

 

“Green?” I asked, referring to the deep emerald of his jacket. He seemed to like my answer. “Is your favorite color green too?”

 

“No. I wore mine yesterday.”

 

How I remember that the jacket he wore yesterday was black without thinking about it, I still don’t know. Regardless, I decided to press further on the subject. “Do you always wear clothes that correspond to what the voices tell you they like?”

 

Jaejoong nodded. “It’s not very hard. Xiah is happy the most because jeans are blue and I wear jeans a lot, but I wear other blue things on Monday too. Tuesday is black and Wednesday is green. Thursday is the easiest because Micky and Choikang like white.”

 

“I see…” I mumbled quietly as my pen scratched against paper, the tiny sound seeming to catch Jaejoong’s interest. He lifted his head slightly from its fabric resting place and opened his eyes to look in my general direction though still not looking at me. Still, it was the closest he’d been to doing so all day. “Do the voices tell you to do things Jaejoong?”

 

At first I believed Jaejoong wasn’t going to answer me. His doe eyes slowly darkened and his fingers absently began to play with his sleeves. He seemed to put a lot of thought into his words, but his answer was short. “Sometimes.”

 

His voice was much softer, almost frightening with just that one word. It really is a shame that he has to go through this… “What do they tell you to do?”

 

I didn’t get another answer from him for the entire fifty- five minutes we had left.

 

January 9, 2003

Entry Nine

 

Not many people are cut out to become psychiatrists; I guess speaking to the mentally insane all day can mess with people’s minds. I’ve been at it for almost ten years now, plus interning for another three right out of high school, and I’m still just as sane as I’ve always been, if not more so. My profession has made me stronger and more understanding in ways that nothing else could make a person and I will never regret my decision to do this. The human mind is truly fascinating, especially when there’s something you need to decode with the little information it gives you. All of my cases have been relatively simple: common schizophrenia, dissociative identity disorder, minimal dementia, OCD, stress and phobic disorders... the list goes on. The thing that draws me to my cases the most is that there’s never just one answer to any disorder. Patients need customized treatment; no two are ever exactly alike and cannot effectively be treated the same ways. Sure, medication helps (that’s about as standard as it gets,) but it never really cures them. At least not completely. That, is where I come in.

 

Every now and then we get an easy case that can be controlled with medication and minimal therapy for a few months- the less interesting cases. Others take a lifetime of psychiatric assistance- the unfortunate cases. Most of them will never be completely right, and society will forever look down on them for something they never had control over to begin with.

 

How’s that for more reflective?

 

January 10, 2003

Entry Ten

 

I got a call from Jaejoong’s mother late last night saying that she wouldn’t be able to escort Jaejoong to my office today. I didn’t see him until 10:42am when I caught a glimpse of his face from the car window driving away.

 

January 11, 2003

Entry Eleven

 

I woke up late this morning because my alarm didn’t go off and missed my first patient of the day. Feeling: pissed. If anything my patients need to know that I have stability they can depend on when nothing else in there life does. Being late and missing a session is absolutely unacceptable. I can never let it happen again.

 

On the brighter side, I bought the new mirror I’ve been needing to put up in my office this evening.

 

January 11, 2003

Entry Twelve

 

Jaejoong was brought in by his mother again today, and judging by his excessive fiddling with the hem of his shirt, she didn’t know a thing about his absence yesterday. That… bothered me? I’m not sure, but I didn’t like it.

 

His fidgeting didn’t stop even after I led him into my office and closed the door behind him.

 

“Your Umma doesn’t know that you missed your session yesterday, does she?” I asked, cutting straight to the point. My glasses sat low on my nose and gently pressed against my skin where I had the strong urge to press my fingers.

 

Jaejoong just continued with his nervous fidgeting and captured his lower lip between his teeth as he stared off into nothingness. “I don’t want her to know,” he muttered quietly enough that I almost missed it.

 

“Is there any particular reason why not?”

 

His eyes gaze flickered to the side; returned. “She wants me to come here so you can fix me and she won’t have to be sad anymore.” Unmistakable guilt stained Jaejoong’s features and his worn-out jacket sleeve finally fell away from his fingers. He didn’t want to put his mother through this, that much was obvious, but at the same time he felt that he wasn’t able to do what he needed to do to get better. This kind of thing has happened with several of my other patients, but Jaejoong just looked so… lost. “I don’t want to make her sad anymore.”

 

I hummed in understanding and set my notebook aside for a moment. Jaejoong took notice of my shift and quickly looked at the other side of the room, his fidgeting starting again. “So you know that skipping will make her sad?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Then why do you do it Jaejoong?”

 

In an instant I knew he hated the question; pain twisted his delicate face and darkened his eyes as it had two days ago. “Because they tell me to.”

 

I didn’t get much else out of him for the rest of the session, just a few yeses and no’s every now and then. It is a slight improvement though; at least he kept speaking when he used to cut off completely. He did say one thing toward the end of our time that caught my attention, though.  “I don’t want to be fixed.” I started to doubt that I actually heard it, but Jaejoong was gone before I had time to ask.

 

January 12, 2003

Entry Thirteen

 

Didn’t get much sleep again last night, but that shouldn’t be a problem today. Only a few of my patients have sessions, most of them in the late afternoon. Jaejoong is my only one in the morning. Feeling: Fine.

 

January 12, 2003

Entry Fourteen

 

I’m really not sure about what I feel today. I got a chance to hang up my new mirror, perfectly placed so I don’t have to turn my head to see the open window when I talk with my patients, but that was the only positive thing that happened today.

 

Heechul started speaking in Chinese in the lobby and every so often during his session. When I asked him about it, all he would say is that his “friend” taught the language to him and that I was jealous of his ability. Although I do wish I could speak Chinese, this new skill concerned me. You see, this “Chinese friend” that Heechul has is nothing more than a hallucination he’s seen for several years now. He believes beyond the shadow of a doubt that “Hangeng” exists. But that’s not the thing that concerned me most about him today.

 

Jaejoong was on his way in just as Heechul was walking out (their times are one right after the other on Saturdays) and Heechul stopped in the middle of the lobby as Jaejoong walked by.

 

“My, my, my…” Heechul purred, turning his head and gazing at my young patient with a predatory look in his eyes.

 

Jaejoong stopped and stared right back at him, not saying a word.

 

His silence didn’t stop Heechul though, more like encouraged him. “Wa sei…” he whispered in Chinese as he made slow circles around Jaejoong, brushing his long slender fingers down Jaejoong’s jaw line as he went. He looked at the empty space to his left before a wicked grin spread across his face. “Hangeng and I both agree that you’re smokin’ hot babe. Ask Yunho for my number if you ever want to experience the better side of life.”

 

Jaejoong didn’t look away from Heechul until the latter was right in front of him gazing into his eyes from only a few inches away and getting closer with every passing second. The younger male’s eyes snapped shut as his head jerked way, his hands snapping up to cover his ears. His lips moved to form quite, frantic whispers and Heechul finally backed away.

 

In an instant I was by Jaejoong’s side and led him into my office, away from Heechul and away from stress. “Jaejoong are you okay?” I asked with my hand on his shoulder.

 

But his eyes stayed tightly shut and his mutterings continued. “Stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop…” he chanted over and over. I’ve experienced episodes like this before with my patients, mostly schizophrenics like Jaejoong, so I knew that all I could do was keep him calm and try not to let anything else get too close.

 

It took fifteen minutes for Jaejoong to stop chanting; twenty for him to open his eyes and finally lower his arms away from his face, but even then, he still wasn’t quite calm. He brought a fist up to his lips and kept it there, chewing nervously on his fingernails as his eyes shifted from staring at one spot on the floor to another.

 

I waited for another ten minutes to see if he would calm himself any further, but my effort was in vain; Jaejoong stayed tense for the rest of our session no matter what I asked him or what I said. Static seemed to snap in the air with every movement the young boy made, the soft ticking of my watch like thunder. I was almost certain that he wouldn’t answer anything as the last five minutes approached, but one question finally drew an answer.

 

I’d just finished scribbling some notes in my notebook when my curiosity got the better of me and words fell from my lips without my knowledge. “Why don’t you look at me Jaejoong?”

 

The boy’s restless eyes stopped shifting, instead settling on the same corner of my office as he’d stared at five days ago. “Because I can see my reflection in your glasses,” he answered softly, his voice so smooth and fragile I almost missed it.

 

“Why do you not want to see your reflection?” I asked, leaning forward slightly and resting my chin in my hand.

 

 Jaejoong shied away from the movement. “I don’t like the way I look,” he said quickly.

 

I, on the other hand, was absolutely shocked. How could someone so beautiful not like the way they look? His raven hair caught the light with every move he made and looked as if it were made from the finest black silk the world could produce. His eyes, although haunted and tired, held thousands of untold stories in their endless depth just waiting to be decoded by someone, anyone. And his body… any woman would kill for it. Perfect skin, thin figure with broad undoubtedly strong shoulders… What was there not to absolutely adore?

 

As if I’d spoken the question out loud, Jaejoong answered. “I don’t like anything about it at all,” was the last thing he said before our time was up.


A/N: be brutal with your comments. i can take it :9 if i got something wrong, please let me know. i'm obviously not a psychiatrist, nor have i ever taken a class about anything related to it. everything in here is based on my imagination and hours of research on the interweb :3 hate me not and leave a comment to tell me what you think of this <3 Free Counter
Free Counter

Hello ch2

Title: Hello
Length: [2/?]
Author: HolyStarDown
Pairing: Yunjae 
Rating: Overall NC-17
Genre: Psychological, romance, angst, drama
Disclaimer: if i owned them i would be posting HD videos, not fics 
Summary: Love knows no boundaries; it reaches the good, the broken, the hopeless, and even the insane
Author's Note: I'M. EXCITED. PLEASE TAKE NOTE OF ENTRY DATES AND NUMBERS. SKIPS ARE INTENTIONAL.


{Chapter 1}




January 13, 2003

Entry Fifteen

 

Had horrible nightmares last night and never could get back to sleep. Thankfully, I don’t have any patients on Sundays. Feeling: tired.

 

January 14, 2003

Entry Sixteen

 

Now that I’m able to think about it with a clear head, Jaejoong’s breakdown from Saturday made much more sense. Before he told me about his hate toward his own reflection, I thought it was just Heechul’s sudden advancements that caused Jaejoong to act the way he did, but after I got some much needed sleep, I began to think otherwise.

 

Jaejoong must have seen his reflection in Heechul’s eyes when he finally got close enough, which explains why he didn’t have an issue until they got right in front of each other… I don’t know why I didn’t think of it earlier. Was it because I was blinded by just how beautiful Jaejoong was to see that he might not think the same way about himself? Was I just not paying enough attention to him? Regardless, I’ve decided to make some changes: my glasses are to be left at home (I put in an order for contacts yesterday morning that I picked up on the way to the office today,) the new mirror has been taken down, and I’m going to be extra careful about getting close enough to Jaejoong for him to see his reflection in my eyes. Maybe this way he’ll feel more comfortable talking to me.

 

January 14, 2003

Entry Seventeen

 

Eisoptrophobia: fear of mirrors or seeing one self’s image.

 

Today, I did not see Jaejoong at all.

 

January 15, 2003

Entry Eighteen

 

I stayed up late working on reports and filing prescriptions for my patients today. Everything was fine… until I got to Heechul. He’d started seeing his hallucination again a few days ago, and I decided that the dosage on his medication should be increased this week, even if just a bit.

 

“Lee Pharmaceuticals, Donghae speaking. Can I help you?”

 

“Yes, this is Dr. Jung Yunho. I need to re-file a prescription for one of my patients, Kim Heechul. He’s taking-”

 

“Kim Heechul?” I heard a few clicks and a soft hum before the pharmacist spoke again. “His meds haven’t been picked up since the fifth of this month doctor. Sorry.”

 

In other words, Heechul stopped taking his medication ten days ago- the same day that he stopped seeing Hangeng.

 

January 15, 2003

Entry Nineteen

 

Just as I thought, removing the mirror from my office had an amazing effect on Jaejoong. Well, ok, so I did more than just take out the mirror and get contacts; the curtains were drawn over the window, a tablecloth spread over every piece of polished furniture, and every picture was turned down before he set foot in my office. Thankfully, my efforts were not in vain.

 

Jaejoong actually looked around for the first time since he’d come in- smooth sweeps with his eyes instead of franticly shifting glances he’d used the previous days. His body moved more freely and he seemed so much less on edge… It was amazing. Beauty whispered in every fiber of his being, calm I hadn’t seen before resonating in his eyes. Even his voice had more strength behind it. “My reflection is gone,” he stated simply.

 

I nodded. “Of course.”

 

Jaejoong turned smoothly and looked in my general direction. A sliver of hope shone behind his dark eyes, and the fingers fisted in front of his lips gradually moved away. “You did all this for me?”

 

I had to admit that I was surprised by just how much Jaejoong’s relaxation calmed my own nerves. But then, I never even knew I was tense in the first place. “My job is to make sure that you’re as comfortable as possible Jaejoong,” I said with a slight smile stretching my lips.

 

Not a second later, my breath was taken away; Jaejoong looked straight at me for the first time. “Thank you.”

 

Jaejoong’s tongue was loose when he finally sat down in his normal place, arms still wrapped around his legs and chin still resting between them. But he was looking at me. All of my questions were answered, maybe not exactly how I’d wanted them to be, but he answered them nonetheless.

 

“I take it you’re feeling better today?”

 

Jaejoong nodded slowly. “It’s easier when I can’t see myself. They don’t fight as much,” he answered.

 

My head titled slightly to the side and I recrossed my legs to lean further back into my chair. “Who doesn’t fight as much?”

 

“Micky, Xiah, Choikang, and the other one. They tell me that I don’t look good and they don’t want to look at me. The other one doesn’t agree with them so they fight.”

 

Now that’s something new… “Is that why you don’t like the way you look? Because Micky, Xiah, and Choikang tell you that you don’t look good?”

 

Jaejoong nodded again.

 

“Well they’re wrong,” I said. The words were simple, but Jaejoong seemed taken off guard by them. He looked at me with wide, questioning eyes and I decided to go on with my thoughts. “I agree with the other one Jaejoong; you’re very attractive.”

 

A light pink graced my young patient’s cheeks, his eyes shyly averting themselves from mine. “I wish that was true…”

 

“It is. Maybe one day you’ll be able to look in the mirror and realize that.”

 

January 16, 2003

Entry Twenty

 

The progress I made with Jaejoong yesterday got my spirits up for today. I came in early this morning to go through more files and make another call to the pharmacy; Heechul picked up his medication just a few minutes before. Now, whether he actually takes them or not is entirely up to him, but I believe he will with proper motivation. Beyond that it’s out of my control.

 

Anyway, my session with Jaejoong today was another success. I’m truly amazed that such a small thing like taking away mirrors could bring about so much change in him, and for once, I got a tiny glimpse of what goes on in his mind.

 

“Tell me some things you like to do Jaejoong.”

 

My young patient pulled his focus away from the tree in the corner of my office to look at me through dark lashes. “Does it matter what I like to do?” he asked softly.

 

Probably not. “Of course it does. I need to know as much about you as I can so I can help you.”

 

He hesitated at first, looking away from me again before answering. “I like to cook.”

 

“Really?”

 

Again he hesitated. “Yes. I could make you something if you want. I don’t think you’ll like it, but I would try.”

 

I smiled in attempt to reassure him even though I knew he wasn’t looking. “I’m sure it would be delicious Jaejoong.”

 

Despite my words, Jaejoong’s eyebrows scrunched together and his head fell to rest on his arms. His eyes however softened, his mind lost in thought trying to find the words he wanted to say. “My Umma… says that I shouldn’t cook because I can’t.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

He tightened his hold on his legs, his eyes brimming with an unspoken pain that I wished I could take away from him. “I can’t use the glass things or the metal things. I see my reflection and Umma has to take me away but… that just makes them say more things I don’t like.”

 

I prayed that my next question wouldn’t turn him away from me again as carefully chosen words spilled from my mouth into the air between us. “What do they say that you don’t like?”

 

“They say she wants to make me alone again.” His voice trembled and again he tightened his arms, but it was an answer.

 

“Why do they think she wants you to be alone?”

 

Unfortunately, that was where I lost him. Still, I got something relevant out of him despite using a pretty irrelevant question to get there. Jaejoong is a good person, no doubt about that… he just has more problems than people normally do. I’m not sure why I feel so drawn to his case. Maybe it’s because he has such a moderate case of schizophrenia, and aside from Dr. Shim, my secretary, and the occasional pharmacist, he is the most sane person I talk to during the day. I don’t know…

 

Hopefully tomorrow will bring about even more success with him.

 

January 18, 2003

Entry Twenty-Three

 

I’ve felt strange all day today. Not strange as in a sick kind of strange- just… strange. I don’t know how to describe it. Even before my unproductive session with Heechul and my even worse session with Jaejoong, I felt it there. It’s almost like there’s something shoved back to the shadows of my mind that wants to come out and show itself to the world, begging and pleading me to just let it go. I wouldn’t have known how to do that even if I’d wanted to. Still, seeing my patients today just threw me more off balance.

 

Heechul was… very irritated from the second he walked in to my office until the second he left. My guess was that he’d started taking his medication again and lost sight of Hangeng, which was good; the medication is supposed to take his hallucinations away. But Heechul was not so thrilled. Over and over again he asked me where Hangeng had gone, when he was coming back, why he’d left in the first place without telling him, and called him several colorful names in both Korean and Chinese for it.

 

It’s not uncommon for this sort of thing to happen with patients of his kind, but when he started spewing Chinese all of that changed. He became irrational, started screaming Hangeng’s name even as I tried to calm him down. Nothing I did worked and I began to do what I knew I shouldn’t have: I told him that Hangeng was only gone for a while and would be back soon. I knew I shouldn’t have done it. I told my self I shouldn’t have done it. But I did, and the instant the words left my mouth Heechul calmed down.

 

I lied to my patient and he believed me.

 

January 19, 2003

Entry Twenty-Four

 

I couldn’t finish what I was writing yesterday. I still can’t even think much about it. Still, Dr. Shim told me to write what bothers me, and more than anything, this bothered me. As much as I’d like to say Heechul’s session was the worst of the day, it wasn’t; Jaejoong’s was just as horrible. No, I didn’t lie to Jaejoong about his voices I just… couldn’t reach him like I have been for the past few days. He was just so far gone.

 

From the moment Jaejoong set foot in my office I could tell that something was off. His demeanor was the same as it had been his first day here; jerky, controlled movements accompanied with an overall feeling of distress hanging in the air between us.

 

I double- no, triple checked everything in my office to make sure he couldn’t possibly see his reflection and there was nothing left uncovered.

 

Ten minutes passed by like this: Jaejoong’s shaking fist covering the soft lips his teeth didn’t hesitate to gnaw bloody. When the first crimson drop slid down his porcelain skin, I’d had enough.

 

Without thinking much about it, I got up from my chair and kneeled in front of Jaejoong, prying his hands away from his mouth only to have them shoot up and cover his ears. “Jaejoong tell me what’s wrong,” I demanded just before his eyes sealed shut.

 

“They won’t stop,” he whimpered. He tried to bury his face between his knees, but I held his face up with nothing more than two fingers.

 

“Stop what?”

“Shouting!”

 

“What are they shouting about?”

 

“You.” Tears of untold horror created sparkling trails down Jaejoong’s cheeks as they fell from his tightly closed eyes. I couldn’t stop them.

 

My voice escaped me and I could say nothing as I watched his tears fall. My lips stayed parted in silence, no words registering in my mind that felt right to say. I didn’t want him to cry. I couldn’t let him cry. “What are they saying about me?”

 

My voice was barely above a whisper, but Jaejoong acted as if I’d screamed it at him. “I can’t tell you! I’m not allowed to tell you!”

 

“Who says you aren’t allowed to tell me?”

 

“Everybody!”

 

“Who is everybody? I promise, if you tell me they won’t find out.”

 

“No!” Jaejoong shrieked. “Everybody is everybody and everybody always knows. They can’t know… Not yet… Not yet… Not yet…”

 

He still wasn’t completely himself after our session, even though his chanting had stopped and I kept him for an extra five minutes. I don’t know what came over me when I saw his tears… all I knew was that I wanted them to go away.

 

January 20, 2003

Entry Twenty-Five

 

The strange feeling from this weekend still hasn’t completely gone away, but I’m glad to say it’s gotten lighter. It was there today, no doubt, and it hung over me from the second I woke up and still lingers now. I just wish it would go away for a while so I could think clearly enough to figure out why I was feeling this way in the first place.

 

The worst of it came when my office was empty at 9:30am. Despite my secretary reassuring me that Jaejoong’s mother had dropped him off on time, my young patient was nowhere to be found… until twenty minutes later. With my coat wrapped tightly around my body, I stepped out into the cold, unsure of where I was going or what exactly was leading me there. Step by step I wandered further from my office down unfamiliar streets, small flakes of white gently falling from the clouds and dusting my hair.

 

I needed to be somewhere, find something, I just didn’t know where or what. It didn’t even make sense to me why I didn’t turn around and go back to my office, but I couldn’t stop. I passed alley after alley as minutes ticked away the time I was supposed to spend with Jaejoong, my mind set on nothing yet everything at the same time. It was so ridiculous… until I found him.

 

Strands of snow-powdered raven and a bright blue jacket caught my eye. My head snapped in his direction, heart racing with a relief I’d never felt before in my life. “Jaejoong!” I called out, a ridiculous smile spreading my lips. Was what I was looking for? It didn’t matter- I didn’t even care. Even if he wasn’t, I couldn’t contain how ecstatic I was to see his beautiful face.

 

“You found me,” he stated simply. Haunted black eyes looked up at me as I stepped further into the alley, uneasiness growing in them with every click of my heels.

 

Reflection Yunho… He can’t see his reflection…

 

“Fancy that,” I said with a smile, my eyes sliding shut as soon as I was close enough to Jaejoong to kneel in front of him. His thin arms were wrapped around his knees like normal, his chin resting between them and bangs falling in front of the gates to his soul. I imagined he was looking at me, but I couldn’t be sure in the darkness that surrounded me. “Why are you out here Jaejoong-ah?”

 

I imagined him shifting nervously, the ruffling of cloth telling me that he’d moved. “Because you’re mad at me,” he said softly.

 

My head tilted to the side and I blindly reached for something to steady myself. “Why do you think I’m mad at you?” I asked.

 

“Because I thought bad things yesterday… They said… you don’t like me anymore…” I heard a soft sniffle and more clothes rustling after his trembling voice.

 

“That’s not true Jaejoong. What were you thinking that would make me not like you?”

 

“I can’t… You can’t know. They won’t let me…”

 

“Won’t let you what?”

 

I heard skin slapping hard against skin and more cloth rustling in a jerky movement. “Bad things. I can’t tell you the bad things. Not yet… Zero one two six zero three. Seven five one…”

 

His breath started to shake as he repeated those numbers over and over, my own face only scrunching in confusion. “What do those numbers mean?” I asked, but he kept repeating them as if he didn’t hear me; he probably couldn’t in his state. Trying to get any more answers from him would be useless. “Jaejoong, come back to my office with me. Your umma will be worried if we aren’t there when she comes to pick you up.”

 

It took fifteen minutes to finally get Jaejoong to get up and follow me, another twenty to find my way back to the office even with Jaejoong muttering directions to me every few minutes. He said nothing else.

 

January 21, 2003

Entry Twenty-Six

 

Today was… better than yesterday for the most part. Heechul refused to speak for the first time since I met him, the usual chatterbox falling silent and glaring at the floor for the entire hour. Jaejoong’s session on the other hand, went slightly better.

 

He came to office on time without me having to search for him, his face blank and eyes accented with dark circles.

 

“Did you sleep well last night Jaejoong?”

 

My young patient’s weary eyes lifted to stare into mine as his body settled in his normal position on the couch. “I didn’t,” he said quietly, his fingers nervously pulling at his sleeves. “I was wondering if I could sleep here.”

 

A slight pain burned in my chest at the weakness of his voice; he sounded like nothing more than an abandoned child. “Of course you can,” I answered automatically. “Can you tell me why you didn’t sleep first?”

 

I was afraid that Jaejoong wouldn’t answer me; he flipped his black hood over his head and stretched out on the couch, flipping over to lie on his stomach without saying a word. His slender body took up the entire length of my black leather couch, his pale skin peaking out slightly in a stark contrast to the black fabrics surrounding him. I couldn’t stop staring… Only when he spoke could I tear my eyes away.

 

“I didn’t want to dream,” he said softly.

 

“Huh?” Professional.

 

“I didn’t sleep last night because I didn’t want to have my dream again.”

 

I had to clear my throat before I trusted my voice enough to speak and loosed my suddenly tight collar. “What is it that you didn’t want to dream about?”

 

Jaejoong didn’t answer me for a long time and I had begun to think he fell asleep. His thin chest rose and fell slowly with his silent breaths, the rest of his body completely still. And that was fine; I’d told him he could sleep here if he wanted to. True, I wasn’t exactly supposed to allow that since it was wasting my time and his mother’s money, but I couldn’t say no. Something about him makes me want to try everything in my power to help him, no matter how far-fetched the action might be.

 

“I don’t think they’ll let me tell you.”

 

Again I was shaken from my directionless thoughts and forced to say something highly professional. “Huh?”

 

“Choikang, Xiah, Micky and U-know.”

 

“Yunho?”

 

“Yes.” Jaejoong freed one of his hands from the dark leather and wrote letters in the sky, spelling it in English as he moved his finger. “U-K-N-O-W,” he spelled slowly.

 

That sounded… very suspiciously like my first name. “Who is U-know?” I asked him.

 

“The other voice. He told me his name last night.”

 

Now I know my first name isn’t a secret, but I was positive that Jaejoong didn’t know it; most of my patients never did. To them I was just Dr. Jung, never Yunho. My first name wasn’t even posted on my door! I scribbled a few things in my notes, loosening my collar again with my other hand, and picked my words carefully. “Jaejoong, do you know my first name?” I asked.

 

The young boy paused in thought as he returned his hand from the air. “No. I’m sorry,” he answered quietly.

 

So many things poured into my head at once, blending and molding and spinning together until I couldn’t decipher one from the other. The worst part about it? I didn’t know why. Yes, it was a bit concerning that Jaejoong named one of his voices after me, even more so that he said he didn’t even know my first name, but it shouldn’t have been a big deal. Jaejoong could be lying. Or maybe he picked up the name from Heechul that day when he told Jaejoong to ask me for his number. Regardless, it shouldn’t have bothered me nearly as much as it did. U-know huh? “That’s okay Jaejoong,” I said, clearing my throat again afterwards. “Why doesn’t U-know want you to tell me about your dream?”

 

“Not just U-know. Choikang, Micky, and Xiah too. They don’t want me to tell you. Any of them. They said… you can’t know about the bad things I was thinking yesterday. My dreams… were that. They said you’re not allowed to know yet and I can’t tell you.” He shifted slightly and buried his face further into the couch. “Can I sleep now?”

 

I nodded despite knowing he couldn’t see it. “Just answer one more question for me.”

 

Jaejoong hesitated again with his answer, his arm coming up to slowly curl around his head and fingers threading into his silky hair. “Just one?”

 

“Just one.”

 

“…Okay.”

 

I smiled when I heard his soft voice assenting to my request. “Alright then. Why are you okay with sleeping here and not at home?” I asked smoothly. “Wouldn’t your dream be the same here as it would there?”

 

It took a while for Jaejoong to speak again, and when he did, I still wasn’t prepared for his words.

 

“Being with you makes the bad things go away.”

 

A/N: likey? y/n? :D leave me a comment?

HTML Hit Counter
HTML Hit Counter
Tags: ,