[ 2:41 AM | Their shared apartment | Dim moonlight slipping through the curtains]

Guillain-Barré Syndrome (search it up for a better lore :3) was cruel. It didn’t ask—it just took. Her strength, her movement, her sleep. Tonight, it took everything.

Y/N breath hitched before the sobs did. The pain in her legs was electric, searing—like her nerves were burning from the inside. Her hands clutched the sheets as she tried to stay silent, but her chest felt too tight. Her legs were numb. Unmoving. Again.

Y/N : “No, no… not again…”

Her soft sobs broke through the quiet of the room.

From beside her, Chan stirred.

Bang Chan said groggy: “...Y/N?”

His voice was husky with sleep, but the second he heard her cry, he was up. No hesitation. He sat upright, scanning her face, her body, her legs.

Bang Chan (urgent, gentle): “Is it the pain again?”

She nodded through the tears, lips trembling. Her whole frame was shaking under the weight of it all.

Y/N choked: “I can’t feel them… my legs… and it hurts, Channie. It really hurts—”

She broke again, trying to muffle it in her hands, but he was already moving—already reaching for her.

Bang Chan: “Hey, hey, look at me. Just breathe. In through your nose, baby… that’s it. Slow.”

He pressed his forehead to hers, steadying her. His voice was calm, but she could feel the urgency in his hands as they found her legs.

Bang Chan: “We’ve done this before. I’ve got you. I always do.”

He worked slowly, massaging her calves, ankles, and feet—touches he knew she couldn’t always feel, but did anyway. Because he couldn’t sit still. Because not doing something felt worse than the pain.