Autistic Behavior: Chapter 1
Title: autistic behavior
Rating: pg-13 for now
Pairing: Jonghyun/Taemin, mentions of others
Summary: He was always the kid next door. He was always the kid that went to that special school and he was always that kid that had someone with him at all times. And Jonghyun wanted to know why.
Author's Note: here's chapter one. These first dew chapter may be real short, but it's just to get the story going.
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Ten Years Ago
His umma would leave on a daily basis and little Jonghyun didn't understand why. His umma never left. She was a stay at home umma. And it upset his ten year old self that she would go for hours at a time before coming home and looking like she was crying.
He didn't like when his umma cried.
He tugged on her pant leg with a little hand. "Umma?" The woman looked down at her innocent 'normal' son. "What makes you so sad?"
It was such an innocent question an yet she had no clue as to how she was supposed to answer.
"Umma?" Little Jonghyun tilted his head to the side in confusion.
His beautiful mother took a deep breath and looked directly into those puppy dog brown eyes. "Well, my Jjong-Jjong. The neighbors, they have a son who's just a little younger than you, but he's very sick at the moment so they had to take him to the hospital to get better."
"But why are you sad?" Pure innocence.
"Well...remember that time little Peewee died?" Nod. "And you were sad?" Another nod. "And member how that made umma sad?" One more nod. "Well it's kinda like that."
The little boy furrowed his eyebrows together. "But the neighbor kid didn't die. Why would they be so sad?"
She had no other choice. "Because, Jonghyun, there is no cure for the sickness he has."
Those furrowed eyebrows shot up and those brown eyes brimmed with tears. "Is he gonna die?!"
His mother chuckled at the innocence. "No sweetie, he isn't going to die, but he may never get better."
Little Jonghyun nodded, he could now understand why his umma was sad.
"Well...if he isn't going to get better, there's no point in keeping him in a hopistal, right?"
That question and look of curiosity made the woman want to cry. She had no answer to his question.
"Right?"
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