What is it about the rainy days that bring the gloom? Is it the dull gray tones of the clouds that cast the world into a cold wet sadness. Perhaps the storms that roll in know when someone is about to have a bad day.

Jin woke to the sound of someone lightly knocking on his friend's door. He yawned, stretching out his arms while sitting up. Then he glanced at his wristwatch with his other arm still stretched high, dropping it in annoyance once he realized the time.

Eyeing the door curiously, Jin made his way across the cold linoleum floor. Opening the door he found Y/N standing with two styrofoam cups in her hand. When she saw Jin she smiled shyly.

"Uh... sorry, is Namjoon home?"

"He'a still sleeping." Jin tried to sound indifferent. But his voice betrayed the hurt he felt. Y/N looked at him concerned.

"Are you okay? Is it your head?" She bombarded him with questions that a nurse would ask a patient. Her voice timid while her eyes scanned his face for a possible wound.

"I'm a bit hungover." He lied, moving to let her in. She rushed past him to the kitchen. Y/N seemed to know her way about the place.

"Why are you here?" Jin blurted out, following her into the kitchen. Y/N stopped searching one of the cabinets to look over her shoulder at him.

"Namjoon texted me last night... I uh—- why are you here?" She asked him the same question. He could tell by her tone she was agitated. She always hated being interrupted when she was doing something. Jin knew that all too well.

"I crashed here after carting a billigerent Namjoon home." That was a little harsh of him to say about his best friend, alas his feelings were hurt. Not that they would understand why.

"Oh...that explains some of the misspelled words."

"Yea."

They stood their in an awkward silence until Y/N let out an exasperated breath. She turned back to the cabinet, pulling out a bottle of ibuprofen.

"Here." She handed Jin two little brown pills, then moved to start the coffee pot.

Y/N was too comfortable here. A burn started to build in Jin's chest. His broad shoulders dropped and in that moment he just wanted to shrink away into the wallpaper. Anything was better than the possibility of Namjoon and Y/N being a couple.

Pain shot through his head, buckling his knees. He collapsed to the floor. Y/N gasped, moving quickly to help him up. Jin could feel the warm blood dripping from his nose.

"Oh no! We need to get you to the hospital." She worried over him, handing Jin a towel to help with the bleeding. All the while Jin's vision was obscured by blinding flashes of light that made him nauseous.

He vaguely heard her call out for Namjoon. A loud thud sounded. Perhaps that was his friend falling off his bed in confusion.

"Wha— oh crud." Shouted Namjoon. He stumbled into the kitchen, crouching down beside the two on the floor.

"He said he has a hangover." Penelope frowned, moving Jin's hair out of his quickly paling face.

"He didn't drink last night though." Namjoon muttered, rubbing his aching temples. He knew he had a hangover for sure. But why would Jin lie to her about having one when clearly he was suffering from something else?

"Jin?"

Jin could hear the pair talking about him. Namjoon pretty much threw him under the bus when he said he didn't have a drink. Jin felt betrayed, the pain in his head blinding him further. The room spun around and then everything went into complete darkness.

—

Dr. Finley spoke quietly to Namjoon at the door to the room Jin slept soundly in.

Penelope sat in the chair next to the bed as Gracie moved about the room.

"What happened?"

Namjoon scratched his head, shrugging. He himself couldn't explain the events of the morning.

"When I came out of my room because Penelope called me. I found them on the floor. Jin's face was pale, blood pooling in the towel pressed to his nose and Penelope panicking."

Dr. Finley glanced at the nurse sitting behind the nurses station. He could tell she wasn't herself today.

"It's been over a week since he woke up. Maybe he should have stayed in the hospital longer to be sure he was okay." Namjoon worried out loud.

"All his vitals were fine. His muscles didn't atrophy either. Which is amazing considering how long he was under."

"Then why all the fucking headaches, Dr. Finley? His mother is beside herself with worry." Namjoon questioned with his fists clenched. He wanted his best friend to be okay. He didn't want to feel the guilt every time he collapsed. Namjoon hated himself everyday for the accident. That's why he drank himself under the table every chance he got.

His coping mechanism made no sense considering the state he was in the night of the accident. He'll never forget the gut wrenching sound of the tires squealing as they spun into the intersection of oncoming traffic. The way the car hydroplaned, careening into the guard rails after slamming into a black Mercedes.

Namjoon sighed, "I'm sorry."

Dr. Finley grasped the young man's shoulder.

"We are going to do everything we can to help him."

Penelope walked over to the two men talking amongst themselves. Namjoon's expression troubled her immensely.

"Are you okay?"

Namjoon simply shook his head, his eyes wandering over to his sleeping friend. The dried blood in his white buttoned up shirt. The way his hand rested on top of the knitted blanket.

Why couldn't it have been him? Namjoon thought to himself. The ache in his throat begging to be relieved by some burning liquid. He wanted nothing more than to rid himself of the guilt and for Jin to be okay.

"You know he was supposed to travel to France before the accident?" Namjoon started. "He got a scholarship to a distinguished culinary arts school."

Penelope frowned, she knew Namjoon struggled with the guilt from that day. She had hoped that when Jin woke up he would be relieved from all of it. In turn it only made things worse.

"He's going to be okay. You know that, right?"

"I just—"

"I get it." Penelope squeezed his elbow. Namjoon sighed, walking into the dark room to sit down. Outside the storm raged on. The wind howled, while the tree branches scraped along the window.

"I'll be at the desk if you need me." Penelope informed, the sad young man before she disappeared down the quiet hallway.

"How long?" Jin's voice was raspy when he spoke. Namjoon's head shot up.

"What?"

"How long have you known her?"

Namjoon looked at him confused. Jin swallowed, his mouth was dry. He wasn't feeling up to interrogating his friend. He just needed to know the nature of his relationship with Y/N.

"I— uh. Met her a few months after the accident. I was constantly coming to check on you."

That makes no sense. Why would he act like he didn't know her at the bookstore?

"Why lie?"

"What?"

Jin groaned in frustration. He tried to sit up but the room spun, so he gave up.

"Why pretend you didn't know her at the bookstore?"

Namjoon stared out the window. He appeared to be thinking hard on how to respond. What he said next threw Jin off.

"Why does it matter?"

"Because she's my wife!" Jin growled angrily. How could his friend be so daft.

"The hell you talking about?"

Jin's eye twitched.

"You guys need to stop messing with me."

"No one is messing with you, Jin." Namjoon tried to reassure his friend. Although it only seemed to anger him more. Why he would think Penelope to be his wife was strange.

"I just want to wake up." Jin sighed miserably, turning over to stare out the window. At least he could find comfort in the steady pitter-patter of the rain.

"Please..." he whispered. A small tear falling to the white cotton pillow. Leaving a damp memory of its short life.

Namjoon quietly left the room to find Dr. Finley. Stopping briefly at the nurses station.

"How's he doing?" Penelope inquired, when Namjoon leaned against the counter. Worry lines evident on his forehead.

"He thinks your his wife."

Penelope's eyes grew wide in shock.

"What?"

"But I'm—"

"I know..."