Yoongi rested his chin in his hand, fingers pressed into his cheek as he waited as patiently as he could for the fan signing to start. Sitting still like he had been for the last ten minutes was doing nothing but making him even drowsier than he already felt.
He really just wanted his bed at this point. He hadn’t slept in two days and was grateful that they didn’t have anything after the fan singing to do. Their schedules, with the new album, had been even more hectic and packed than usual, and his brain hadn’t been able to let him rest until he’d worked out the problem on the song he’d been working on. Namjoon had already gotten on him for staying in the studio too much but he just hadn’t been able to sleep until he’d finished.
“You going to be alright, hyung?” Jimin asked, leaning sideways to talk quietly. Yoongi hummed and waved a hand at him. It wasn’t as if he’d never done this sort of thing with little to no sleep.
They’d all done it before and all of them were getting less sleep. He, really all of them, had gotten good at putting aside how tired they were in order to interact with people. Although Yoongi had always been the worst at it. It wasn’t even really because of that, though. He’d never been the best at interacting with strangers when he was fully rested.
There’d been a point, when he’d been a bit younger, when they’d started out, that he’d hoped he’d get better at that. It hadn’t really changed a whole lot, though. He was still awkward as fuck and he’d found himself practically hiding behind Namjoon and the others when they’d been in America.
He grimaced as he remembered the People Magazine interview where he’d whispered his answers to questions in Namjoon’s ears and then gripped Hoseok’s shoulders tightly in order to calm his nerves about the whole thing.
This would be easier though. He was used to these sorts of events. This wasn’t an interview he had to do for some US magazine where he’d have to speak English.
Yoongi straightened, dropping his hand when they announced the start. It was easier to smile after the first couple girls came through. He’d never be as energetic as Taehyung or Hoseok and he was pretty sure he’d never feel comfortable with people gushing about him like their fans did but he was grateful and he would try and make them happy.
He was leaning over the table, letting the girl in front of him put the cat ear headband on him, which was becoming an increasingly common thing for them to give him, when he caught sight of the next person in line for the first time and his eyes widened slightly.
It wasn’t that the person was a man. That wasn’t completely unheard of, although most of the people who showed up to these sorts of things were young girls. The guy was also big, though. He was taller than Namjoon and broader than Seokjin.
“Hello,” Yoongi said when the girl had moved on and the guy stepped in front of him.
“Hello,” the guy said, grinning down at him. His height had been one of the few things Yoongi had never been self conscious about, but he imagined this guy would absolutely tower over him even standing. He was just bigger over all. Then again, so were all of the others as well. Even Jimin, who was pretty much the same height as him, was bigger than him.
Instead of the album that Yoongi was pretty sure he’d gotten Jimin to sign for him just a minute ago, the guy slid over a framed photograph. The picture was of Yoongi and he almost frowned. The picture had to of been taken recently. He was laughing in it but whoever he was looking at while doing so had been cut out. What really had his gaze darting up towards the man, though, was the fact that it had obviously been taken outside the apartment complex that held their dorm. He recognized the building in the background.
“Found it on the internet,” the guy explained at the look on Yoongi’s face, “very cute.”
Yoongi forced himself to relax. There was really no telling who had taken the photo. Maybe someone who had recognized him but hadn’t had the nerve to come up to him. It was a possibility.
“My name is Jae,” the man supplied. A nickname, obviously, but Yoongi just smiled at him and signed the picture and handed it back over. The big guy grabbed his wrist before he could pull his arm back into himself though and put a piece of folded up paper in his hands. He grinned at Yoongi again. It was a different one than what he had before, and more than a little disconcerting.
“For you,” the guy said, using his other hand to fold Yoongi’s fingers around the paper. “We will meet again.” It wasn’t phrased as a question and Yoongi folded his arms into himself after the guy had let him go.
The man didn’t spare him another glance, only moving onto Hoseok. Yoongi watched him a minute, before he had to pay attention to the young girl who had moved in front of him. He stuffed the paper in his pocket and leaned forward in his seat again to listen to her.
The long line of fans distracted him almost immediately, and he had completely forgotten about the big man by the time they were heading outside. He was so tired, his head had started to ache and he slid into the back window seat, leaning his head back and ignoring the others when Jungkook slid in beside him and Jimin on his other side.
Hoseok was still overhyped from the fan event and Yoongi watched him with half open eyes, in the seat in front and across from him, kind of impressed that he still had that sort of energy despite how much his loud voice only aggravated Yoongi’s headache more.
Yoongi’s eyes slid closed. He hadn’t intended on falling asleep, but Hoseok’s voice had died down to a whisper shortly after he’d closed his eyes and the van was mostly silent. He wondered briefly if they’d quieted down because he’d closed his eyes and he smiled tiredly. Of course they had. He briefly wondered if he’d ever get used to people caring that much before drifting off.
He woke later to Namjoon shaking his shoulder. He was standing outside the door and the others were already out as well. He got out as well, stumbling a bit on a yawn and let Namjoon steer him with a hand on his shoulder towards the building, and onto the elevator.
Taehyung was on his phone, looking through the pictures that had already been posted. Jimin was standing to his right, looking at the phone as well, pointing out things that caused Taehyung to shove his phone at one of the others.
“Hyung, look!” Tae pushed his phone towards Yoongi’s face. “Even this fan knew.”
“Knew what?” He grumbled as the doors opened, taking the phone to be greeted with a picture of him from just before the event had started, head resting in one hand. He glanced at the caption the person had created for Twitter.
I hope you get more sleep! Eye bags are definitely not cute!
Yoongi didn’t catch the name or the profile picture before Taehyung snatched his phone back, now shoving it in Jungkook’s face and cooing something about how cute Kook had looked with the headband one of the fans had given him to wear.
This, of course, quickly devolved into yelling when Jungkook shoved Tae away from him. Jimin and Taehyung proceeded to try and attach themselves to the younger boy specifically because they knew it would annoy Jungkook. Yoongi was grateful in that moment, like he always was when this sort of shit happened, that he was older than them. Jungkook was much the same as him, in that he wasn’t a big fan of excessive touching.
Although, he was beginning to think his age wasn’t the real reason they didn’t try and annoy him the same way they did Jungkook. It wasn’t like they were scared of him anymore either. It was just…after they’d found out some of his issues and about his family, they’d become more willing to leave him alone when he told them to, or even hinted at it.
Really, though, Taehyung should probably take the hint more often with Jungkook as well, especially when it usually didn’t exactly end well for him. Like for instance, when Yoongi looked back on them just as Namjoon had unlocked the door, Taehyung was lying on the floor with a pout while Jungkook stepped over him to walk to the door.
Of course, Taehyung wasn’t going to give up, and Hoseok had decided it was a good idea to join. He watched them for a minute, just to see how this would go and if someone would have to step in. He loved Taehyung, he did, but sometimes the kid didn’t know when to stop, especially when it came to Jungkook. It wasn’t entirely his fault because Kook was usually fifty fifty on this sort of thing. There was a chance the kid would roll with it, even end up having fun with it, another that he’d get frustrated, then angry.
Yoongi waited long enough to see Jungkook grinning and then laughing when he managed to dump Taehyung on his back on the couch and then he made for his and Seokjin’s room, intent on falling into his bed and not moving until his alarm went off the next morning.
The yelling wouldn’t even be a problem. He’d spent way too long living in one room with all of them for almost any sort of noise to be a problem.
“Aren’t you going to eat?” Seokjin asked just as he passed. “You need to eat.” There was a reprimand somewhere in his voice but Yoongi just hummed and waved a hand at him.
Jin huffed from behind him. “Well, at least wash your face or you’ll wake up complaining about the make up-“
The shut door cut him off and Yoongi dumped everything in his pockets on the nightstand, gaze briefly landing on a piece of folded up paper while he removed his jeans, jacket, and sweatshirt. He paused and thought about unfolding it when he remembered the big man and that uncomfortable feeling he’d gotten briefly while interacting with him.
He was probably just being paranoid. Unfamiliar situations tended to make him feel unsettled. It was why he’d felt so out of place in America. However, there had been something about the way the guy had looked at him, he was sure that hadn’t been his imagination.
It didn’t matter, really, though, did it? It was just one fan meeting. He might never see the guy again.
He shook the feeling off, and dropped face first onto his bed, moving until he had the covers over him where they were covering everything but his hair. He was out less than five minutes later.
Seokjin was right. Yoongi had woken up sometime in the middle of the night, a bit uncomfortable and had gone to scrub the make up from his face before he’d managed to get back to sleep, then he’d slept straight through the rest of the night after that.
He was still half asleep when he’d gotten out of bed in the morning, slipping on sweatpants and stumbling towards the kitchen to help Jin make breakfast if he needed it. He didn’t. Hoseok was already there, bouncing around Jin, helping, more energetic at six in the morning than most people were in the middle of the day.
“Someone needs to cut you off from caffeine,” he said by way of greeting, causing both of them to look up.
If possible, Hoseok only brightened further at the sight of him and then pushed him towards a seat. “Sit. It’s almost ready. When’s the last time you ate?” Despite his smile, there was a hint of nagging in his voice and Yoongi shrugged. “Did you eat at all yesterday?”
“You brought me something before the fan meet, remember?” He rested his head on his folded hands. If they didn’t want his help and the kids weren’t up yet, he may as well relax for a bit.
“Oh right!” Hoseok was still watching him, though. “You still should have eaten something last night.”
“Sure.” He pushed Hoseok’s hands away from him.
Namjoon was up next, just before the food was ready, explaining that he’d woken Taehyung and let the younger boy convince him to get Jungkook and Jimin up. Yoongi sighed and wondered if they’d have to break up an argument.
Less than five minutes later, there was yelling as Jungkook came into the room with Taehyung thrown over one of his shoulders. Kook dropped Tae in one of the chairs and then slid in-between Yoongi and Seokjin, probably so that Tae would have a harder time retaliating.
It was usually pretty loud when all seven of them sat down together and that day was no exception. Yoongi watched Jungkook and Seokjin argue over something supremely idiotic with twitching lips. Jin may have been the oldest but he honestly acted like much more of a child than Kook did.
After they’d finished and the dishes were done, they ended up having to hurry a bit. The day was packed mostly with interviews and shows. These sorts of days were kind of the worst, in his opinion. It was always the same questions they’d get asked over and over again. Honestly, he’d rather go on some variety show and embarrass himself with some game.
After a very quick shower, he went to his and Jin’s room to change and grab his phone when he’d spotted that folded up piece of paper again. He picked it up, thought about opening it again when Namjoon called that they needed to leave. Shrugging, he opened one of the drawers on the nightstand and dropped the paper in there, with a random assortment of other things people had given him, to be read later.
The first text came late in the day, when they were being shuttled to the last interview of the day before they were done.
Jungkook had sat down in the back beside Yoongi, even quieter than usual, and even Taehyung left him alone. It was something that happened after interviews sometimes, and none of them were sure why because Kook only ever said that the same questions over and over were annoying. Yoongi knew it was something else but pressing Jungkook about it would only lead to a fight. He’d seen it happen. Kook was allowed to have his secrets and it would be so, so hypocritical to get mad at him for not being ready to tell them.
Hosoek, Taehyung, and Jimin were in the middle of a guessing game on what question would be asked first at the next one. Jimin had just said: “I bet it’ll be ‘so, what is your ideal type?’”, Jungkook had sunk further into his seat, looking irritated, and then Yoongi’s phone vibrated in his hand.
The first thing he noted was that the texts came from a number he didn’t recognize. The frown didn’t fully bloom on his face until he opened the text, though.
I do hope you got some sleep :)
Yoongi stared at the text a moment, his frown deepening, but didn’t answer it, only sighed and closed out of his messages. Either it was a wrong number, or someone had somehow gotten his number. Answering back would make it worse if it was the second option.
They were pulling up outside a radio station when his phone vibrated again, and he ignored it this time, following the boys out of the van and inside the building. This particular interview lasted around twenty minutes, and was a lot more relaxed than the other had been.
He didn’t even notice his phone vibrating in his pocket two more times during the interview as they joked this time about some of the questions they’d been asked all day. Yoongi and Hoseok made verbal jabs at each other until the hosts were laughing and Yoongi came out of that one in a fairly good mood with the knowledge that that was the last one. They were free too for the next couple days because they were going to have to fly out to the US again soon.
Then he unlocked his phone while they were driving back, and his good mood nearly evaporated. It was not a wrong number, and two of the three texts were long. There was a very, very long text describing his every feature in detail and how much this person liked them. From the longer hair that he’d adopted since the new album, to the type of earrings he’d been wearing, down to the way his eyes were shaped.
Sighing, he simply shoved his phone in his pocket and tuned back into the conversation going on in the van. He didn’t acknowledge it until they were all back in the dorm. Taehyung, Jimin, and Jungkook had settled in front of the television to play games with Jin and Hoseok behind them when Yoongi pulled Namjoon into the kitchen to talk.
“I need to change my phone number,” he said right away.
“Okay,” Namjoon said slowly. “Why?”
Yoongi handed the phone over, let Namjoon read the texts. His eyes widened further the longer he read and he was actually blushing a little bit by the time he’d finished. Probably because of the detailed description of how the other person liked Yoongi’s hands and how long his fingers were.
“Yeah,” he said finally, handing Yoongi’s phone back over, “we’re free tomorrow so we can go. I’ll call the company.”
That was a precaution, one that was most likely not needed but one they did anyway just in case whoever had gotten his number wasn’t just some harmless person who wanted to gain his attention.
“Yeah. I-“ He cut himself off when his phone vibrated with a new text and he glanced at it.
Are you ignoring me???
You shouldn’t ignore me
But he rolled his eyes and did exactly that. Even if he wasn’t sure that replying would just make things worse, even if he wanted to reply, what exactly was he supposed to say to them spending several lines of text talking about the shape of his lips? It was creepy.
He helped Seokjin cook dinner, let Namjoon convince him not to work since they had days off and he could actually do work on his songs during the day instead of the middle of the night like he usually did.
He mostly ignored his phone while they settled into the living room with a movie playing. In fact it wasn’t until he was getting ready for bed when he checked them again. More long rants about him with some really bad poetry thrown in and some statements that were a little unsettling.
Things like don’t worry, I would never touch you until you asked me to or You need to stop ignoring me and If you change your number I’ll find it too. He forwarded these to Namjoon and their manager as well.
It was disconcerting, and Namjoon pulled him aside again after the most of the others had gone to bed. He looked genuinely worried now.
“I don’t think you should go out alone tomorrow.”
Yoongi’s first reaction was to balk. “It’s just some fan who found my number.”
“What if it’s not?” Namjoon countered, frowning rather fiercely at him.
Yoongi frowned at him, crossing his arms. He rarely got time alone as it was and he was pretty sure this was just overprotection.. It didn’t surprise him too much, coming from Namjoon, and he sighed when he caught the pleading look on Namjoon’s face.
“Please, hyung? I know it’s probably just some fan but just humor me, won’t you?”
Yoongi scowled at him, and wondered when he’d gotten so soft. “Fuck…fine, alright.” He glared at Namjoon, “but you’re leaving me alone if I’m in my studio.” He cut Namjoon off when he opened his mouth, “the door locks, Joon. I’m not having someone hover over my shoulder the entire time. You’re the only other person who can get in there without me letting them in anyway.” And he didn’t think he could stand it, having someone hover over his shoulder all the time. Everything about being an idol, aside from making the music, was already outside his comfort zone.
Namjoon grinned. “Good. Thanks, hyung.”
Yoongi rolled his eyes and waved a hand. “I’m going to bed.”
Later, when he’d gone to put his things on the nightstand, was when he remembered the letter sitting in his desk. That unsettled feeling came back because since he’d gotten the texts, he’d been thinking that it was probably some young girl who got his number somehow. He pulled the letter from the drawer and finally opened it, only for the feeling to settle down some.
It was just a normal fan letter. None of the creepy language he’d been getting in the texts, none of the bad poetry. The letter focused mainly on his music, going two paragraphs about how much the man had loved his mix tape.
Yoongi breathed out and folded it back up. Okay, that was good. He thought maybe he should give it to someone anyway, and he probably would in the morning but the writing didn’t feel the same at all.
His phone lit up again as he was getting in bed, and the relief he’d been feeling that it probably wasn’t the massive guy he’d seen at the fan meet turned back to unease at the threat he saw there.
If you change your number and keep ignoring me, something bad might happen
It took him a very long time to get to sleep.
I'm not entirely sure of the next of kin stuff, but I've seen tv shows use creative licence with it, and I like the idea. I read that there are hospitals in the US that do that sort of thing. I know you can put whoever you want down on your contact list on your forms when you make a doctors appointment in the US. The people you put down are the people you're okay with discussing your protected medical information so I'm using that, I guess.
Namjoon was worried. He couldn’t help it. He’d called their management, and they’d agreed that it was probably a fan that had somehow gotten Yoongi’s number. Their fans could be rather obsessive sometimes; he knew that, so it wasn’t impossible that one of them would send Yoongi those long texts about what they liked about his looks. It was a little creepy but not out of the realm of possibility.
What really worried Namjoon, and what he thought one of their fans probably wouldn’t send, was the threat. Well, not their normal fans. He understood very well that it was easy to take that sort of obsession too far. They were constantly being filmed, there was social media, and Yoongi had gotten extremely personal in some of his songs.
He’d brought these concerns up with their company, and they’d sent the texts to the police. More than likely, they wouldn’t do anything about it but at least if something more happened, they could start from there. They also put security outside their dorm.
When they’d woken up the morning of their first off day, there had been more threats, more anger about Yoongi ignoring them, and Yoongi actually looked a little bit worried as he showed them to Namjoon.
“Do you think we should tell the others?” Yoongi had asked, a hard glint in his eyes that meant he was angry.
Namjoon was taken a little aback. “Maybe.”
Yoongi glared at his phone. “If it’s not just a fan…I don’t want them hurt because of me.”
Namjoon opened his mouth to say that it wouldn’t be because of him, that it would be on the person who hurt them if that happened but Yoongi was already walking back into his and Jin’s room, closing the door.
Honestly, Namjoon was much more worried about Yoongi. If this turned out not to be just a fan, then it would be him they were after. He was honestly afraid that would be the case.
He wondered if Yoongi would be ready for just how protective the others were going to be if they told them. Yoongi wasn’t usually the focus of that kind of attention. There were minor things. Hoseok or Jin getting on him about his eating or sleeping habits, but it was usually Namjoon who got protective when it came to Yoongi.
Namjoon had been that way for years, ever since he’d signed up to be Yoongi’s next of kin.
Near the end of 2013, only a week after Yoongi had been brought home from the hospital after the appendectomy, he’d shown up near the end of dance practice in order to speak with Namjoon. He was holding some papers in his hands and had hovered by the door until they were done.
“Yoongi!” Seokjin had practically yelled. “I hope you’re not here to work.”
“I’m not,” Yoongi answered sharply, fingers tightening on the papers in his hands just slightly, and looking slightly uncomfortable at the other six boy’s scrutiny. They hadn’t hovered since he’d been released from the hospital, mostly because they knew he wouldn’t take it well.
They’d only all been together for a little over a year, only debuted five months ago. Namjoon knew him the best, and he thought they were friends, but Yoongi hadn’t settled into their friendship and group dynamic as quickly as some of the others had.
Namjoon had learned some of his mannerisms and he thought this one was nervousness and that that was the reason for the frown on his face and how sharp his tone had been.
“I need to talk to you,” he said, meeting Namjoon’s eyes. And, yes, that look was definitely one of nervousness. Namjoon nodded, concerned now. Yoongi waited until the others had left, and had closed the door before he said anything else.
“I need…” He paused, shifted on his feet. “Can you not tell any of the others about this?”
“About what, hyung?” Namjoon asked, stepping closer to Yoongi.
Yoongi’s lips thinned for a moment. “Can you just promise first? That you won’t tell anyone yet?”
Namjoon hesitated for a moment, but Yoongi looked so wary, like he was expecting Namjoon to refuse and he found that he couldn’t. If Yoongi was going to trust him with something, then he wasn’t going to undermine it.
“Okay. I promise.”
There was relief in Yoongi’s eyes but he still didn’t say anything for a bit, long enough for Namjoon to prompt him.
Yoongi sighed. “I wanted to ask if I could put you down on the next of kin forms.”
Namjoon was taken aback. “What?”
“Next of kin,” Yoongi repeated. “You can put whoever you want. Closest relatives are usually the default, but you can get a form and put down whoever you want.”
Namjoon blinked, stunned. “But…what about your family?”
Yoongi’s gaze slid away from his, and his grip on the papers tightened again. “Namjoon...” He hesitated again and when his gaze flickered back, in wariness again. “You didn’t notice that you guys and our managers were the only people who were there while I was in the hospital?”
Oh. Yes, okay, he had thought about it before. Yoongi never talked about his family, and Namjoon hadn’t seen any of them at the hospital. Still, Yoongi wanted him on those forms? There was a rush of something like affection at that. It, at least, meant that Yoongi trusted him, no matter how withdrawn he could seem.
“If you don’t want-“
“No, I do. I mean, of course I wouldn’t mind, hyung,” Namjoon cut him off, a smile blooming on his face.
Yoongi huffed. “Stop that,” he grumbled with a glare, pushing the papers towards Namjoon so he could read them before Yoongi put his name down on them.
They’d waited until the others were pretty much done eating before saying anything. Namjoon was the one who started the conversation, gaining everyone’s attention easily. It was a skill he’d learned over the years.
“We’re not sure what it is. It’s probably nothing but we do want to be cautious,” he started because he didn’t want them freaking out.
“Be cautious about what?” Jin asked, eyes narrowed a little bit.
“Someone found my number,” Yoongi said before Namjoon could open his mouth. “They’ve been sending me texts. Probably a fan.” It was very to the point, like Yoongi usually was.
“A fan?” Hoseok asked, leaning forward. “Why do you look so serious then?”
They were all staring at Yoongi now and he met Namjoon’s eyes. Namjoon shrugged at the question there, leaving the choice up to Yoongi. He thought about shaking his head when Yoongi opened his texts and passed it to Jimin on his left, but they were all adults, no matter how hard it might be for them to think of Jungkook, especially, like that.
“Hyung!” Tae exclaimed as soon as he’d read the messages, looking stricken, “they’re sending threats?!”
“They’re bluffs,” Yoongi said calmly, taking his phone back after it had been passed around.
“How do you know for sure?!” Hoseok demanded, practically vibrating with nervous energy. “They could be dangerous!”
“I agree,” Seokjin said, eyeing Yoongi like he was planning to go wondering down an alley at night by himself, “you should be careful.”
The others were nodding, and Yoongi stood, clearly uncomfortable. “Look, I already told Namjoon I wouldn’t go out alone today. Now, I’m going to call to change my number.” He moved out of the room and the others all turned their gazes on Namjoon.
“Don’t worry so much,” Namjoon told them, trying for a reassuring smile. “Even if it’s not just a fan, we’ll keep him safe, okay?”
They all nodded, determined through their worry, and Namjoon was pretty sure they were all going to drive Yoongi crazy before it was over.
For the next fourteen hours, nothing happened. Yoongi changed his number, the messages stopped and he kept his promise to Namjoon. They were all watching him a little more closely after breakfast but he endured it.
It was late when the real consequences of ignoring the texts and then changing his number showed up. It was around eleven at night and they had all piled into the living room to watch a movie.
Namjoon was sitting on the couch with Yoongi and Hoseok. Seokjin had settled into the chair off to the side, and Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jimin had made themselves a small pallet on the floor in front of the couch.
Jungkook was nodding off, almost asleep against the chair Seokjin was in when their phones went off, one after the other. All but Yoongi’s.
Namjoon opened the text he’d received, realized it had pictures attached to it, and then he blanched as they loaded. They’d all opened them, some at a slower pace than the others but Namjoon had frozen, not even thinking of stopping the slow progress of what was about to happen.
“Um…hyung?” Jimin had looked up from his phone, his eyes wide, staring straight at Yoongi.
“Oh, shit,” Namjoon breathed as they all turned their gazes on Yoongi. He scrambled to his feet, grabbing Yoongi’s hand. “We need to talk.”
Yoongi let him drag him to his feet but pulled away before Namjoon could get him out of the room. “What’s going on?” He asked, eyeing the others staring at him.
“Please, hyung,” Namjoon said, reaching for him again. “Let’s go to your room?” Yoongi gave in, probably due more to the staring than Namjoon’s insistence. Namjoon looked back at them on the way out, hoping to convey without words that they should stay where they were for now.
Something was wrong. Namjoon looked downright scared and anxiety welled up in Yoongi to the point where his tone came out sharper than he’d intended when they closed the door to his and Seokjin’s room.
“What is it?”
Namjoon hesitated briefly before handing over his phone. Yoongi felt the tremble start in his limbs when he saw the pictures Namjoon, and obviously the others, had been sent. The pictures were of him and another man. There were three of them, and they were all taken in moments that could be considered far too intimate for two people who were just friends. One caught a kiss.
Of course Yoongi recognized the guy. He’d met the guy at a bar, and they’d hung out for a while. It hadn’t gone beyond kissing. It had also been months ago because Yoongi hadn’t done anything with anyone, guy or girl, in months. It meant whoever had sent the pictures had been following him for months.
“They all…they all saw this?” He choked out. It meant that he’d just been outed over a text from someone who was definitely not ‘just a fan’.
“I’m sorry,” Namjoon said.
Yoongi’s phone went off and he shakily opened a text that read I told you not to change your number. His breathing picked up, his chest got tight, and he was aware that he might be having a panic attack.
Namjoon had started talking again, but his voice had turned muffled. Yoongi slid to the floor, curling up. He couldn’t breathe. Last thing he saw before he blacked out was the fear in Namjoon’s eyes.
Jimin had stood up after Namjoon dragged Yoongi out of the room, staring after them. He looked down at his phone again, and a mix of anger, hurt, and worry made his stomach clench. It had to be real, not Photoshop, if it was getting that reaction out of Namjoon and Yoongi.
“Hyung,” Jungkook spoke up, looking up from his phone to stare at Jin, “is this real?”
Seokjin hesitated a moment before answering. “I don’t know.”
“But you think it is,” Taehyung said. “Or you knew that he was…?” He trailed off, probably unsure of what to say since Yoongi hadn’t actually told them.
“Bisexual?” Seokjin finished for him. He shrugged. “I don’t know, Tae. I don’t want to speculate. He should have been the one who got to tell you.”
Hoseok stood abruptly. He looked angry, probably the angriest Jimin had ever seen him and, for a moment, Jimin thought he was angry at Yoongi. As much as it had stung that Yoongi didn’t trust them enough to tell them, he didn’t think they had a right to be angry. He was proven wrong, though, when Hoseok spoke.
“Who cares?!” He exclaimed. He was gripping his phone so tightly, Jimin was surprised it hadn’t cracked. He shoved the screen towards Jin’s face. “Hyung, you know what this means, don’t you?! It means whoever sent these pictures has been following Yoongi! They have all of our phone numbers! They’ve already sent threats to Yoongi! This isn’t just some fan that happened to find his number! This is a stalker! I think we should be a little bit more focused on that than whether or not Yoongi should have told us about his preferences!”
Anxiety welled up in Jimin during Hoseok’s tirade. He was right. Jimin’s fists clenched as he thought about it. What were they supposed to do? How had this person found all their numbers? How long had they been following Yoongi?
“Shit,” Jimin said, feeling sick to his stomach. “Months! They could have been following him for months! I mean, I don’t think he’s gone out like that since before the new album release.”
Jin nodded grimly. “Yes, he actually told me that.”
“But…” Taehyung’s gaze darted between them and he looked a little panicked. “But why would they just start texting now?”
“Maybe they just couldn’t find a way to get his number until recently,” Jimin said.
“They followed through,” Jungkook said. He was twisting his fingers in his shirt, his eyes wide, and Jimin was briefly worried from his breathing and the look on his face that he was going to have an anxiety attack. “They said something would happen if he changed his number and followed through. What if they try to hurt him?”
Jimin thought they’d already done that. Not physically, but they had hurt him.
“No,” Jin said, moving over to Jungkook and putting a hand on his shoulder. He turned to stand beside the youngest, watching them all. “We’ll protect him. Whatever it takes, alright?”
They all nodded, standing in a circle in the living room.
“So it was just you guys? They didn’t send it to anyone else?”
Yoongi had come down from the panic attack exhausted, sick to his stomach, and embarrassed it had happened. He was sitting with his knees pulled up at the head of his bed. Namjoon was sitting at the other end because Yoongi didn’t want to be touched at the moment.
“There’s nothing on the internet and our manager would have called if they’d been sent it.”
“But they could.” He didn’t phrase it as a question because obviously they could.
“Hyung.” Namjoon paused, chewing his lip. “We should be more worried about what it means that someone even has pictures like this.”
“I know what it means,” Yoongi snapped, twisting his fingers together until they hurt. “Someone’s been following me. I get it.”
“I have to tell management about this.” He started to get out his phone and Yoongi jumped to his feet.
“What?!” His breathing picked up again. “You’re going to…You can’t…”
Namjoon scrambled up as well, holding up his hands but not touching Yoongi. “No, calm down, hyung. I’m not going to tell them what was in the pictures, okay? I wouldn’t do that to you without your permission. I promise, okay?”
Yoongi forced himself to slow his breathing down, embarrassed again and agitated. It was all a little bit too much. He paced instead of sitting back on the bed. It was easier to focus on the fact that the others knew now, rather than the nerve wracking knowledge that he had a stalker.
When his phone vibrated on the table again, his heart rate automatically picked up. “Joon,” he said, voice trembling when he opened the message. There were more pictures attached. It wasn’t anything like the ones before, but they were arguably just as anxiety inducing.
They were of him, out and doing things. Coming out of an interview the day before with everyone else, walking by himself, entering their studio, heading up the stairs of the apartment complex, eating out with the others.
Namjoon took his phone. “I’m going to call. We’ll figure it out, okay?” He paused, looked towards the door. “Do you want to go out there? Talk to them?”
Yoongi stared at the door for a moment before shaking his head rapidly. “I can’t. Not right now.”
“Okay.” Namjoon moved towards the door. “I’ll just get Jin to room with Taehyung for the night then.” He reached out, but stopped short before actually touching Yoongi. “It’s going to be alright, hyung.”
None of them slept much. Namjoon had gotten Jin to switch rooms with him for the night, and called their management, who had forwarded the texts with the pictures Yoongi had received to the cops, and then ordered the boys to come in the next morning to talk about security options until the issue was resolved.
They’d all agreed not to say anything about the pictures they’d all received.
Namjoon hadn’t slept at all. They were supposed to be heading out to the US the day after tomorrow and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that considering. On the one hand, he thought it would be harder for whoever it was to get to Yoongi when he was out of the country. On the other, if he could get to them, they’d be in unfamiliar territory. Also, Yoongi had just been outed to the others and neither Yoongi nor the others would have much time to process all of it.
Namjoon had turned on his side and watched the other man in the other bed. Yoongi had finally dozed off at around three and he was curled up into a ball, facing Namjoon. He had no idea what to do, how to comfort Yoongi, except to try and treat him the same.
He sighed and got up, making his way as quietly as he could out of the room and towards the kitchen. He was a little surprised when he found Jungkook up and sitting in the kitchen, hands wrapped around a cup of tea.
“You okay, Kook?” He asked on his way past to make his own cup.
The younger boy shrugged. “Is Yoongi-hyung okay?”
Namjoon hesitated. “He will be.”
Jungkook nodded. He looked back down at his cup while Namjoon moved around him. “Kook?” He asked again when he caught the frown on Jungkook’s face. Jungkook looked back up at him, and seemed to be considering if he wanted to speak or not. Namjoon let him decide.
“Hyung….his family…are they never around because…” He trailed off a moment before continuing, “are they never around because…because he likes boys too?” He practically whispered the last part.
Namjoon sat back in his chair and considered the boy a moment. “He’s written songs about them not liking his decision to make music,” he pointed out.
“I know. But it always seemed deeper than that.”
Namjoon blew out a breath. He got where Jungkook was coming from but… “I can’t tell you that, Kookie. Those are his secrets.”
Jungkook deflated a bit. “But you don’t think differently about him, right?”
“Of course not.” Namjoon studied him a moment. “You don’t have anything you want to tell me, do you?”
Jungkook just shook his head. “I’m just…worried.”
“I know. Me too, Kook.” He reached across the table and squeezed Jungkook’s shoulder. “And if you ever want to tell me anything, you know you can, right?”
A small smile formed and he nodded. “I know, hyung.”
Uncomfortable would probably be the feeling Yoongi had the most when he got up the next morning. All of the others were up, sitting around the table. They’d apparently waited until he’d gotten up to eat. He stood in the doorway a moment, watching them.
There was anxiety that had him staying where he was for longer than usual. It had also had him staying in his bed for too long, staring up at the ceiling and wondering how they were going to react. It wasn’t long until one of them did notice.
“Hey, hyung!” Taehyung practically yelled, overly cheerful. Yoongi grimaced at the volume and slipped into a seat between Namjoon and Hoseok.
“Morning,” Seokjin said, passing him a plate. Yoongi stared down at his plate as the talk picked up. It felt forced, not the usual bickering and talk that usually happened when they sat down to eat together. He twisted his hands together, digging his fingernails into his skin as it went on.
There was some part of him that understood what they were doing. He’d never been the best at talking about personal things. He could write songs about them, but talking them out? That was something he did.
The problem was that he’d been replaying the messages he’d gotten in his head on repeat since he’d gotten up that morning. He’d been running through different ways that they could react. He’d been terrified that the person who sent the messages could send them to other people.
He dug his fingernails in even harder when he thought about reaching for one of them to get them to stop the chatter. He wasn’t a child. He didn’t need them to tell him that everything was going to be okay, but he wanted…
“Hyung.” Hoseok reached out, prying his hands apart and rubbing a thumb gently over one of his palms where he’d dug his fingernails. “It’s going to be okay, you know?”
Yoongi looked up, and they were all nodding. There was no judgment in their gazes, only concern mixed with determination. Yoongi let out a breath he’d been holding and, just for a moment, let himself rest against Hoseok.
Then he straightened, picked up his chopsticks with his right hand, and the talk started again, but Hoseok didn’t let go of his left.
Anxiety bubbled constantly under his skin, a feeling that refused to go away, even in the place he lived. It was an incessant buzz that Yoongi recognized from before he’d signed with Big Hit, back when he hadn’t had the money sometimes to eat.
The new security measures, which included bodyguards wherever they went, guards standing outside the door of their dorm, just made it worse. America made it worse. He was used to being around unfamiliar people, but at least in Korea, he could be around unfamiliar people only a couple of miles from home, speaking a language that he wasn’t uncomfortable with.
He didn’t sleep much while they were gone. The others very subtly closed ranks around him, and while he appreciated the support, especially during interviews where he knew he was even quieter than usual; the anxiety itched at him worse because he couldn’t forget why they were doing so.
It was maddening but he had no idea what to do about it.
They were all worried. Namjoon was proud of them for the way they handled themselves. They’d closed ranks around Yoongi, but had done it in a way that wouldn’t suffocate him. While being out of the country had put a stop to the messages for a while, Namjoon was pretty sure it was making Yoongi’s anxiety worse.
He wasn’t sleeping was the thing. Yoongi did have bad sleeping patterns sometimes but that was usually because he was working on something. He made jokes during interviews about how he wanted to just sleep all day because he stayed up way too late at night working.
This wasn’t a problem that could be solved by one of them dragging him out of his studio. As much as Namjoon thought that the stalker couldn’t get to him in America, there was a part of him that was relieved when they were on their way back to Korea. He wasn’t sure if it would be better or not but at least they would be in familiar territory.
Later, Namjoon would wish they could have just stayed away.
I wish you would stop ignoring me.
The knowledge that someone Yoongi didn’t know could out him to the world did nothing for his anxiety. He’d ended up locking himself in the bathroom several times because it had gotten pretty bad and he couldn’t stand being in the same room with anyone.
He was even more grateful to Namjoon than before because he just knew when Yoongi couldn’t take it anymore and kept everyone away from him for a time.
Performing in Korea was somehow more nerve-racking than performing in America had been just days before. He stood backstage, where he could see the crowd but they couldn’t see him, squeezing the microphone in his hands.
I’ll see you at the concert ;)
Where they really out there? Somewhere in the crowd? Was someone out there with all of those pictures of Yoongi on their phone in their pocket while they waited on him and the boys to come on stage?
The thought of performing in front of the person who was threatening to out him, had already done so with his bandmates, was so much worse than performing in a foreign country. He’d already told security about the text but that was really all he could do at this point.
He jumped when Jin put a hand on his shoulder and turned. They were all watching him, and his skin crawled. “I’m fine,” he said, ducking away from Jin’s touch.
“You sure, hyung?” Namjoon pressed. “I could-“
“What? It’s not like we can cancel now. I’m fine,” he insisted. “Let’s just do this, alright?”
Namjoon nodded, but they all still looked worried. Yoongi turned back towards the stage, gaze sweeping over the crowd again, wondering again if they were there, in that sea of mostly young girls.
He figured he was lucky that they’d practiced so much, that the dance and the songs were so ingrained that he could do them without even thinking if he needed to because he did stumble about halfway through the performance.
There was a sign that did it. Yoongi was relieved later that he wasn’t in the middle of a rap when he saw it. It actually punched the breath out of him for a moment.
You’re still ignoring me
There was a picture too. It was a printed off picture of one of the ones he’d been sent over text. He barely managed to finish the song and stumble towards Namjoon, dragging him back a bit and point discretely towards the sign.
Namjoon’s jaw clenched when he saw it and he started towards security. Yoongi stepped closer to the edge of the stage. However, while he’d been looking away, watching Namjoon walk towards security to speak with them, the sign had been lowered.
It was gone, could have been thrown away somewhere in the massive crowd and there was no way they would ever be able to tell who had been holding it.
The atmosphere at dinner wasn’t the best. Jimin could tell how stressed Yoongi was, and he was worried. They all were. The person sending those texts could very well choose to send the messages he had sent the rest of them to other people, could post them on the internet.
While they were eating, Jimin glanced towards Yoongi every once and a while. He wasn’t eating, just staring down at his food. Jimin knew Namjoon had talked more with the company and police.
The problem came with the fact that they had no idea who was sending the texts and the person hadn’t done anything illegal. The pictures of Yoongi were all taken while he’d been out in public and all it was so far was texting.
“Yoongi,” Jin said from his left side, nudging him with his elbow. Yoongi jumped at the contact and looked up at Jin. “Eat.”
Yoongi looked back at his food for a moment before shaking his head. “I’m not…sorry. I’m not hungry.” He stood, picking up his plate.
“Yoongi,” Jin started, moving to stand and stop him.
“Stop,” Yoongi said simply. “I’m fine.” He dumped his plate and walked out of the room.
Jimin watched him leave, feeling almost jittery because he couldn’t do anything to help. He really couldn’t imagine what it would be like, to know that a stranger had that sort of power over you. It should be Yoongi’s choice, to come out or not, not some strangers who was obsessed with him.
“Hyung,” Jungkook said, looking to Namjoon, “shouldn’t you…?”
Namjoon sighed. “Not yet, I don’t think.”
Jimin grimaced. He wished Yoongi would talk to more than just Namjoon, wished that he wouldn’t pull away so much. He wished he could do something.
“I want to go to the studio,” he blurted out.
They all looked towards him. “It’s late,” Jin noted.
“It’s only eight,” Jimin pointed out, “and I need…” He trailed off but Hoseok, at least, seemed to understand. He nodded.
“Yeah, I’ll go with you.” He stood, grabbing both his and Jimin’s plates.
“Me too!” Jungkook said, getting up as well. Jimin hesitated, almost protested the company but thought better of it. Maybe they wouldn’t even let him go without someone else, even with the new security. Besides, Jungkook looked just as jittery as he did.
Yoongi wasn’t sleeping, again. He turned the volume up on his phone, music coming through just shy of too loud and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. He’d walked out on dinner a while ago, felt like hours ago, but he hadn’t been able to rest.
He had to force himself not to check Twitter every two minutes to see if anything had been posted online. The sign had seemed like a warning and he hated the person sending the texts, and kind of hated himself for how afraid he was about what it meant.
When a new text came through, he stalled in opening it, and when he did, it had him scrambling out of bed and dropping his headphones.
I told you something bad would happen.
There was a picture attached and it took him a moment for Yoongi to realize that it was of the side of a car. More specifically, one of the cars they had that the new security drove to get them back and forth to the studio.
Yoongi ran from the room, noting briefly Taehyung and Jin sitting in the living room before he went first to another bedroom, not even knocking before he went in.
“Joon-“ He cut himself off when he spotted Namjoon on his phone, sitting on his bed.
He watched as Namjoon paled, jumping to his feet. He was hardly aware of Taehyung and Jin coming up behind him because they’d seen his sprint towards Namjoon and Taehyung’s room. What he was acutely aware of was the urgency in Namjoon’s tone as he spoke into the phone.
“Joonie?” Yoongi stepped further into the room, gripping his phone tightly in his hands.
Namjoon pulled his own away from his ear, eyes wide. “There was a crash. Hoseok, Jungkook, and Jimin….they’re in the hospital.”
The breath left Yoongi and he could hardly hear it when Jin and Taehyung started asking questions. The only time Yoongi ever cried was when they won awards or when he was alone but he felt his eyes water.
“My fault,” he said, just loud enough for Namjoon to hear over the frantic voices of Taehyung and Jin.
“What? Hyung, was this…?”
Yoongi handed his phone over with numb fingers. “Oh, shit. Oh, fuck,” Namjoon said breathlessly when he saw the picture, then he was pulling Yoongi towards him, enveloping him in a hug.
For once, Yoongi clung onto him instead of pushing him away.
Taehyung had already cried twice. Once after Namjoon had told them of the crash and they’d found out that the person texting Yoongi was most likely the one who had caused it, and the second after he, Yoongi, and Jin had been left behind while Namjoon had gone to the hospital.
Yoongi had withdrawn even further into himself after he’d let go of Namjoon, looking miserable and guilty. Taehyung had protested Namjoon going by himself because what if it happened again? But someone had to go and they wouldn’t be let back unless Hoseok, Jimin, and Jungkook were awake anyway.
They were in the living room, waiting. Yoongi had curled in on himself in the recliner beside the couch, waiting on the police as well as news. He hadn’t spoken since Namjoon had left and Taehyung wasn’t sure what to do about it.
It was almost three thirty in the morning when someone knocked on the door and Yoongi stood when their security opened the door to reveal two police officers. Yoongi stepped out to speak with them as Jin’s phone rang.
Namjoon’s hand trembled as he brushed a hand softly through Jungkook’s hair. He was sleeping, the bed half propped up. His fingers ghosted over the cuts from where his head had hit the window.
“Hyung?” A voice asked from behind him.
Namjoon spun and smiled, relieved. “Hey.” Hoseok and Jimin stepped deeper into the room, gazes trained on Jungkook. The kid had been sitting behind the security guard on the driver’s side when they’d been hit. Hoseok and Jimin were pretty much injury free, bruised at most but the car that had ran into them had impacted Jungkook’s door.
Namjoon looked back down at him as well, grimacing because of the sling that he needed because of the dislocated shoulder. He was propped up because of the broken ribs and he wasn’t supposed to move around too much until they healed more.
“The others okay?” Hoseok asked quietly from the other side of Jungkook’s bed.
Namjoon hesitated a moment. “This was a hit and run?” He asked before answering that.
Hoseok nodded. “The car that hit us was empty when the cops and ambulance got there.”
Namjoon sighed, eyed the both of them and contemplating a moment before deciding to be honest. “Yoongi got another text just before I got the call about this. We’re pretty sure it was the person who has been texting him that did this.”
Jimin’s eyes were wide. “What? But….if they’re willing to do this...” He gestured towards Jungkook, looking distraught.
Namjoon held up a hand. “I know. I talked to the police and they should be going to talk to Yoongi too. They’ll be able to actually do something about it now, at least.”
Jungkook shifting and groaning in his sleep interrupted them and Namjoon’s hand went back to his hair, shushing him until he settled again. He looked up at the other two.
“I’m going to call Jin. Stay here?”
“Of course,” Jimin said, sitting and taking Jungkook’s hand in his own.
Jin nearly collapsed in overwhelming relief as soon as he had gotten done speaking with Namjoon. Taehyung was watching him expectantly and he pulled the younger man into a tight hug.
“Really?” Taehyung’s voice was filled with the same relief and he sagged against Jin.
“Yes. Well, Jungkook is injured but he’ll be okay. Jimin and Hoseok weren’t even hurt.”
“How injured?” Taehyung asked after he’d pulled back, still worried.
“Joonie said he hit his head on the window, has broken ribs and a dislocated shoulder.”
Taehyung frowned, and he looked like he was going to cry again. “Oh.” He slid down until he was sitting on the couch again.
“Hey,” Jin said, sitting next to him. “He’ll be fine. It’s just going to take a little bit to heal, that’s all.”
“I know. I just…”
Jin pulled him in again, understanding. As relieved as he was that it wasn’t worse, he was still concerned. Seeing Jungkook hurt was never easy. Jin was already dreading watching the kid in pain for the weeks it was going to take his ribs to heal.
After Namjoon had gone out to speak with their managers, Jimin settled more into his seat at Jungkook’s side. They weren’t technically supposed to be in there. The only reason they’d been allowed back before was because Jungkook had been awake before and asking for them but he doubted they were adhering to visiting hours.
Jimin did not want to leave though. Jungkook would be able to come home with them in the morning and Jimin was anxious to get them all back. He was worried. He was worried about Jungkook and Yoongi prominently.
Broken ribs hurt, and he hated the thought of Kook being in pain for the next several weeks. The crash had been terrifying but what was more terrifying was who had done it, and what they could do next.
What if they did something next? What if they got to Yoongi next time? If they would go to these lengths to get to Yoongi, what would they do if they actually got their hands on him?
“It’s going to be okay, you know?” Hoseok spoke up from the other side of the bed.
Jimin turned to him and raised an eyebrow. “You really believe that?”
“The police can do something now,” Hoseok pointed out. “They’ll find who it is.”
Jimin sighed, running the pad of his thumb over Jungkook’s knuckles softly when the boy shifted, a frown of discomfort on his face even in sleep. He really hoped Hoseok was right.
The knock on the door came around thirty minutes after Yoongi had left to speak with the police. Jin got up, checking who it was first before opening the door to their security. Taehyung stood as well, expecting Yoongi to come back in but instead finding police there again.
He frowned and stepped up behind Jin because these guys looked different than the ones Yoongi had gone with. The security guard looked pale and dread settled in Taehyung’s stomach at the look on their faces.
“What is it?” Jin asked, a thread of fear in his voice.
“These are the police they sent over,” the guard said.
“Where did they go?” One of the officers asked, directing the question to the guard with a stern urgency that made Taehyung latch onto Jin’s arm.
“They said they wanted to speak with him alone. The stairwell…”
The two officers ran off as soon as the words were out. Jin and Taehyung stood stunned for just a few seconds before following, running after them. They made it to the door of the stairwell just after the two officers had made it through them.
Jin stood in the doorway with Taehyung looking over his shoulder. The stairwell was empty but something was on the ground that one of them was pointing at. When he saw what it was, Taehyung felt sick to his stomach.
Yoongi’s phone. Taehyung stumbled backwards as the reality of what had just happened hit him. Jungkook was injured in the hospital and the person who had done that had Yoongi.
How? How had this happened? How had they impersonated a police officer? How had they pulled all of this off? It wasn’t possible, was it? How could it be? How had they lost him when they’d promised to protect him?
“Hyung,” Tae said, voice cracking. Jin turned to him, and Tae reached out to grip his shirt. “This isn’t…this isn’t possible, right?”
Jin grimaced, squeezing his eyes shut in pain before pulling Tae to him for the third time that night.
An exception had been made for them considering their situation. Namjoon was grateful because he didn’t want to send Jimin and Hoseok home by themselves, not after what had happened. He was going to be worried every time they got into a car until the police caught the person doing this, actually.
Jungkook was the only one asleep in the room. Namjoon wasn’t surprised. The crash, Jungkook being hurt, and the knowledge that the person doing it was the same person who had been texting Yoongi made it impossible for any of them to sleep.
Namjoon’s phone vibrated with a call about an hour after he had called Jin to update him on things, with a call from Jin. Frowning, Namjoon stood to take it in the hall so he wouldn’t disturb Kook.
“Joonie,” Jin said as soon as he picked up. Namjoon straightened at the crack in his voice.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, fear singing through him.
“Joonie…the police that came…I don’t know how they did it, how it’s possible, but they weren’t really police. They wanted to talk to Yoongi alone and…” Jin sounded like he was trying not to cry and the fear sharpened into something close to panic.
“Yoongi’s gone, Joon. Somebody took him.”
At the words, Namjoon felt like someone had punched him in the chest, forcing the air from his lungs. He slid down the wall until he was squatting, his left hand moving up to grip at his hair.
“Joon…I…when are you coming home?”
“I…Jungkook can be discharged as soon as the doctor comes through. It’ll be then.” He had to force the words out. He paused. “I have to…I’ll call you…” He gave up, trailed off and just put his phone down beside him, his other hand going to his hair as well.
He sat there, fingers twisting in his hair until it hurt, trying desperately not to breakdown. He was supposed to be their leader. He couldn’t breakdown with three of them in the room beside him, one of them injured.
He rocked a bit, feeling sick and trying not to cry. Yoongi. He hadn’t kept his promise. He hadn’t protected him like he should have. He hadn’t kept him safe. He’d failed.
“Hyung?” Jimin’s soft voice startled him and he scrubbed his face before he looked up at the boy. “Kook’s awake. What’s wrong?”
Namjoon stood, turning away from Jimin for a moment to try and regain composure. How the hell was he supposed to tell them? Jungkook was awake. Namjoon should be focused on making him feel better, not hitting him with this sort of news.
“Something’s wrong,” Jimin said, a statement not a question.
Namjoon hesitated. “Yeah. Something’s wrong.” He grabbed Jimin’s shoulder and steered him back towards the door. “Come on. Let’s go back in.”
His hands were shaking and he was pretty sure Jimin could tell. He couldn’t help it.
Sorry about the longer than usual wait. I got sick and then had to have one of my wisdom teeth removed, so I've been a little out of action.
Namjoon had never felt overly protective of anyone until he’d met Yoongi. It had seemed ridiculous, even to him when he thought on it, at the time. Yoongi was older than him, and a lot of people tended to be afraid to approach him because of that sharp tongue, and brutal honesty. Yoongi didn’t like small talk. He didn’t like people invading his personal space, and he could drive most people away with a few words.
All of this, Namjoon knew, was a byproduct of how painfully shy Yoongi was. Once he’d learned that, as well as some of the things that had happened to Yoongi, he’d been unable to help the protectiveness that had formed. He’d been unaccustomed to the feeling at the time but hadn’t shoved it away either.
That protectiveness had expanded with the formation of their group. It expanded with Jin, who acted more like a child than the youngest did sometimes but also worried about them just as much.
It expanded with Hoseok, who was generally the most cheerful person Namjoon had ever met and it almost physically hurt when he wasn’t happy.
It expanded with Jimin, who was a great dancer with a beautiful singing voice but so horribly insecure sometimes that he had nearly destroyed his own health over it at one point.
It expanded with Taehyung, who was funny and strange in a wonderful sort of way but also the most sensitive of them all. Things that Hoseok or Jungkook would let roll off their backs could genuinely hurt Taehyung.
It expanded with Jungkook, who was the most like Yoongi out of all of them in that he wasn’t prone to speaking out when he needed something or was hurt. He was too quiet about his own feelings to the point that it was sometimes hard to figure out if he was hurt.
The thing that beat in his head as he walked back into Jungkook’s hospital room was his failure. He hadn’t protected any of them. Yoongi was gone and he would have to tell Hoseok, Jungkook, and Jimin. Yoongi was gone and Taehyung and Jin were alone in the dorm. Yoongi was gone.
Something was wrong.
Jungkook’s head was fuzzy from the drugs that dulled the pain in his chest but didn’t make it completely go away but he knew, as soon as he’d met Namjoon’s eyes, that something was wrong.
His first thought would have been about Jimin and Hoseok, but the two of them were there, standing on one side of his bed. His next was about Yoongi, Jin, and Taehyung, who were not there in the room with him.
He was sure he’d never seen Namjoon look the way that he did just then. He imagined, for a moment, that this would be the way that Namjoon would look if someone close to him died, and the thought made him tense despite the sharper pain that came as a result.
Namjoon came around the opposite side of Jimin and Hoseok and gave him what Namjoon probably thought was a smile but turned out to be more of a grimace.
“Kook. I’m glad you’re okay.” He set a hand in Jungkook’s hair, and while Jungkook would normally pull away from that sort of contact, he let Namjoon keep it there this time.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, fighting to keep himself calm, if only for his ribs.
“I…maybe…this should wait…” Namjoon had never sounded so unsure of himself and it was scary.
“No,” he said. “You can’t.” He reached his good arm up, snagging Namjoon’s shirt.
“Something bad happened,” Hoseok said quietly. He was standing still at Jungkook’s elbow with a blank expression on his face. “He knows it. We know it,” he gestured towards Jimin as well, “the way you look…you can’t just…”
“Okay,” Namjoon said, wiping a hand across his eyes. Jungkook had the frightening notion that he was trying to wipe away tears that hadn’t fallen yet.
“First, the crash. Yoongi got a text that pretty much proves that whoever’s been following him is the one who caused it.”
Jungkook nodded, his fist clenching in Namjoon’s shirt. They could have been killed. He glanced over at Jimin and Hoseok. Namjoon wasn’t finished though, and the devastation on his face as he spoke next was a terrible thing.
“We called the police, figured they could actually do something about it now. Two of them showed up at the dorms and took Yoongi out to speak with him privately. Only…only, Jin says they weren’t cops or they weren’t there to speak with Yoongi about the texts…”
“Hyung…” Jimin’s voice was plaintive.
“He’s gone. They took him,” Namjoon finished.
It was then that Jungkook completely forgot about his ribs, at least for the few seconds it took to shoot up into a sitting position. It was only a few seconds though because the pain that shot through him was almost as bad as it had been when he’d woken up in the car after the crash.
He managed to jar his shoulder as well, knocking it against Hoseok, who had started to lean towards him. The pain pulsed through him, taking his breath, and he clutched more firmly at Namjoon in response.
He was vaguely aware of arms going around him, of yelling, and when he managed to squint his eyes open a nurse rushing into the room. Later, he was pretty sure she gave him something else because the pain receded after a minute, replaced by the sort of floating sensation you get when you’re just about to fall asleep.
He was laid back down but didn’t let go of Namjoon, only remembered what he had said last as he sunk back into sleep.
Money could get you almost anything. This was something he had come to realize ever since his father had died and he had gained the wealth he now possessed. You could live comfortably. You didn’t have to worry about bills. You didn’t have to work, which could only give you time to feed your hobbies.
That’s what he had seen it as at first. A hobby. He went to concerts. He bought CD’s. He liked the music, and the boys were certainly pretty, that was sure. It wasn’t until a mixtape came out that his hobby had turned into…something else.
He hadn’t even known who Yoongi was before the mixtape. He’d heard a few songs from BTS but his focus, at the time, had been on others. If Yoongi hadn’t of released his mixtape, his attention might have focused on Mark Tuan, actually.
He definitely had a type.
If you asked him, he wouldn’t have called it an obsession, but that’s what it was. It wasn’t as if this was the first time either. There had been an incident in school that had only ended after the object of his attention had moved away.
He’d had to let it go then, but he hadn’t had the money then either. The money that made things possible that he couldn’t have done back then. Like finding phone numbers, schedules, hiring people to follow the one he was most interested in, gaining police ids, building a room.
There was a lot that money could do.
Even before he was fully awake, before he remembered what had happened, Yoongi knew something was wrong. Whatever he was lying on was not his bed. It was hard and there was something, probably a spring, digging into his back.
The discomfort served to wake him more quickly, but he didn’t exactly feel a hundred percent. It reminded him a little of the feeling of waking up after surgery, minus the pain in his abdomen. The memories came swift.
There had been police that had forced him down the stairs of their apartment complex on threat of going back up and hurting Taehyung and Jin. There had been something pressed over his mouth and nose, and the taste of something sweet.
He turned, gripping the mattress he was lying on until the dizziness passed. He would have preferred that to the terror that replaced it when he finally opened his eyes and confirmed this wasn’t his room at the dorm.
He stumbled to his feet. He was barefoot but still wearing the same clothes as before. The room was small but there was another on the opposite side of the bed. He went over to realize it was a tiny bathroom. The bed was a mattress on a metal frame.
His breathing picked up, making the room spin even more. There was a door near the end of the bed and he knew, of course, it was locked before he tried it. He leaned his head against the door for a moment, trying to reign in the rising panic but unable to, especially when he stepped back, his gaze sweeping the room and he spotted the camera there, up in the far corner where he’d never be able to reach.
Yoongi folded his arms over his chest as it constricted.
It was hours, although it had felt like longer, when the food appeared. Yoongi had come down from a pretty severe panic attack and had spent the time between the end of it and the food appearing trying his best not to repeat it while he studied the room he was in.
The door to the room didn’t open from the inside at all. The bathroom was fully stocked, there were clothes in light plastic drawers, and Yoongi was almost sick when he realized that the clothes were all in his side. They were mostly sweatpants and plain tee-shirts. No shoes.
The windows, one in the bedroom, one in the bathroom, were boarded over. There was air blowing though. The room wasn’t terribly cold, just chilly enough that would make you want a sweatshirt and socks.
The food came through an opening at the bottom of the door, the sort that you could pass a tray through, like you saw on prison doors on television. Yoongi stared down at it, a bowl of rice and nothing else delivered on a Styrofoam tray in a Styrofoam bowl, still feeling sick to his stomach.
There was something surreal about it. He backed up until he was sitting on the bed again, and then leaned forward until his head was between his knees.
There was a point, after the seemingly endless conversations with the other members, with the police, with BigHit, Namjoon finally found himself alone. He’d come home, with a guard of course, so not completely alone.
It was getting close to three in the morning, well over twenty four hours since he’d gotten the call about the car crash. Had it only been that long? How had so much happened in such a short amount of time?
Namjoon blinked rapidly and went into the kitchen, intending on making himself some tea. He felt exhausted, but there was no way he was going to be able to sleep. The few extra hours they had spent in the hospital after Jungkook’s outburst had been nothing short of a nightmare. He was their leader, and he was Yoongi’s next of kin. He’d probably have to have more of those conversations in the morning.
At least, he would be the one to get any news because of Yoongi’s foresight in putting his name on that paperwork. That, however, terrified him as well. Namjoon wasn’t stupid, and he’d seen the stories before. He’d been beating back the panic that wanted to bubble up the longer the day had gone on, unable to let himself breakdown in front of the others or the police, but the stories he’d heard before that had been running through his head made it difficult.
There was a very real chance that they’d never see Yoongi again.
Namjoon rested his head against the counter of the kitchen island, his resolve wavering just a bit. He’d kept up the confidence in front of the others, but he was so afraid, so terrified that this would resolve the way that so many kidnapping stories in the news did.
He jumped and looked up as Jin made his way over. “Hyung,” he said, scrubbing a hand over his face, and standing. “How are…?”
Jin was frowning at him. “They pushed Jimin and Hoseok’s beds together and dragged the recliner into the room as well so that Jungkook could sleep propped up.” He grimaced. “They’re…”
Namjoon nodded, unsurprised that they had chosen to sleep in the same room. Hosoek had been almost fiercely protective of the younger ones since the news, and had held together himself better than Namjoon thought he had.
Jin grabbed Namjoon’s hand. “Come on,” he said and led him out of the kitchen. Namjoon opened his mouth to protest. He wasn’t sure he could keep himself from breaking much longer and he didn’t want to do that in front of the others.
Jin, however, seemed to know this because he pulled Namjoon into his room instead. Namjoon stared at Yoongi’s empty bed for a moment.
“Joon?” Seokjin squeezed his hand, gaining his attention again.
“I didn’t protect him,” Namjoon said. Yoongi had trusted him and Namjoon hadn’t been able to do what he was supposed to do.
“Oh, Joonie. This isn’t your fault.” He dragged Namjoon closer to him. With the door closed and the kids asleep, with only Seokjin there to witness it, he let some of the anguish he’d been feeling all day out.
“It’s supposed to be…I was supposed to…Jin, I can’t…”
Seokjin pulled him down with him onto the older man’s bed and then cradled Namjoon to him. For the first time, Namjoon let himself cry.
The lights weren’t always on. Maybe they were turned off when whoever it was that had brought Yoongi here was sleeping? Maybe it was night when they were turned off. Yoongi wasn’t sure since both windows were blocked well enough that nothing got through. It made the room pitch black. The sort of pitch black where you wouldn’t be able to see your hand in front of your face.
Whoever it was hadn’t made any contact with him. The tray that had been pushed through had been taken, completely untouched, an hour after it had come. The door was solid as was what had been used to block the windows.
He’d sat, knees pulled into his chest in the darkness. He could have been wrong. Whoever it was could come into the room while he couldn’t see anything. Was it one of the two “police officers” he had met at the apartment complex? They had both been significantly bigger than him. Maybe it was both of them?
He sat, for hours in the dark, running through the possibilities, his imagination working against him. When the lights turned back on, they nearly blinded him.
The day was terrible. A missing persons report had been made, the media had gotten involved, and Hoseok couldn’t stand the television being on as a result. The same people that had disparaged, or ignored them previously, were unable to shut up about Yoongi now.
Hoseok had no clue what he should do. Unable to help himself, unable to sleep, Hoseok had gone online during the night and had read the statistics and facts about stuff like this. It was actually a bit harder to find stuff on adults rather than children but one thing he did find, and something he had really already known, was that the first twenty four hours were important and the longer it went on, the less likely there would be of a positive outcome.
The mood in the dorm was terrible, and Hoseok busied himself with worrying about the others instead of panicking about what might be happening to Yoongi. Namjoon was gone again most of the day so he and Seokjin were trying to keep the younger ones together.
Jin was being overly protective and touchy with Jungkook in particular because he was injured. Jungkook, who would usually get irritated after that sort of treatment if it went on for any length of time, let him do it this time. He wasn’t allowing the comfort because of his injuries but because he was afraid.
Hoseok had locked himself in the bathroom at one point in the day. He had been helping Seokjin make something light in the kitchen, his mind still swirling with the things he’d seen online, and the thought of what could be happening to Yoongi in the hands of someone who was obsessed with him the way that the stalker obviously was.
He’d turned on the sink so that they wouldn’t hear him getting sick and then stayed for as long as he thought he could without making them worry.
From the time that the lights turned on until they were turned off again, there was no one either. There was no noise aside from when that opening in the door being opened and another tray shoved through. Just the one, with just the rice again.
The hours were made longer by the constant buzz of anxiety under Yoongi’s skin. The idea of actually sleeping was a joke, so he sat again in the pitch black, silent, room he was locked inside of while his imagination ran away from him again.
Why do it this way? Maybe whoever it was, was just waiting until he’d gone days with very little food so that he couldn’t fight back when they came in. This possibility made him press his face into his knees and rock, trying to fight back the panic attack that wanted to rise up.
There had been a line in several of the texts too. They had gone on several times about not touching him until he asked. His stomach rolled with nausea at the thought, and the possibility that they were trying to get him to ask.
The first option was worse. He would never ask, no matter how long he stayed in the room.
Jimin and Taehyung clung to each other. Jimin was so scared for Yoongi it was hard to think of anything else until Taehyung cried or he saw how utterly exhausted Jin, Hoseok, and Namjoon were, and then the worry for them would mix into the terror for Yoongi.
All in all, Jimin was a jittery mess and he was so grateful for Jin, Namjoon, and Hoseok while at the same time feeling guilty for adding on to their shoulders. He tried helping with Taehyung at least, but it was hard when he could barely keep it together himself.
Taehyung always took it the worst when bad things happened. He was the most sensitive, the most likely to be hurt. He took things harder, not just the catastrophic things. He and Yoongi were close now, but he’d took Yoongi’s early reticence in getting to know them more personally than any of the rest of them had. But they were close, and this was catastrophic for them.
So, Jimin and Taehyung clung to each other. It, at least, was some comfort.
Yoongi had never really realized how oppressive silence could be. He used to wish for it, especially back when he and the others had had to share one room before they’d started making money off their music. There was always some sort of noise, even when they were all asleep.
He never realized how oppressive it could get in such a short time as well, or how much he could miss falling asleep to Namjoon’s snoring. As much as Yoongi had liked his alone time, he’d never been left in silence for this long either. He was usually working on something when he was alone.
It made him even more anxious.
Jungkook hurt. His chest hurt when he breathed. The sling they had put him in for his shoulder made his ribs hurt, and the pain pills they had given him made him feel hazy but didn’t kill the pain entirely.
They also weren’t enough to make the fear go away. He wasn’t allowed to do anything strenuous, not that he would have had that distraction anyway as he was pretty sure Jin and Namjoon would have kept him in the dorm even if he weren’t hurt.
Really he had nothing to do but hurt and worry. Jin was touchier with him than usual, and Jungkook couldn’t find it in him to protest, not with Yoongi missing. It was terrifying, actually, more so than anything he’d ever experienced in his life. He’d already tried to force himself not to think about what might be happening to Yoongi.
None of them knew what to do.
There was the hollow ache of hunger. Yoongi lay on his side, eyes still trained on the door. He’d had this feeling before, mostly when he’d been young and broke and unable to afford food. He did sometimes forget to eat when he was working but Jin and Hoseok had never let that go on for long.
It would only take a few days before he’d be weaker and then what? Would they come barging into the room then? He curled further into himself at the thought. Or would they just leave him there?
When the lights went out this time, Yoongi grimaced and sat up, feeling his way over to the wall. It may have been futile, but he could at least try to get out. He had to at least try.
Namjoon stopped at the door of their dorm, pausing with his keys out before opening the door and wondered if any of the others would be awake. It was getting close to midnight but none of them had been sleeping well since Yoongi had been gone.
It was possible they might be in bed. Would they be angry if he didn’t wake them to tell them the news he had just gotten? It should wait until morning, shouldn’t it? But Namjoon didn’t want it to wait until morning. It was selfish of him, he knew that, but he didn’t want to be the only one who knew aside from the police officers he had talked to earlier in the day.
He let himself in and paused in the doorway after closing it. The five of them were all there, in the living room. Seokjin, Hoseok, Taehyung, and Jimin were all pressed together on the couch and Jungkook was propped up in the recliner beside it. He and Taehyung were the only ones dozing but Jungkook straightened at the sound of the door, grimacing when the movement jarred his still healing ribs.
Jimin nudged Taehyung awake from where he was sleeping on his shoulder, watching Namjoon the whole time. Namjoon figured he was giving something away in his expression because Hoseok reached to pick up the remote and turn off the television.
“Something’s happened?” Seokjin asked, straightening as well, wariness in his eyes.
Namjoon scrubbed a hand over his face, suddenly feeling so much older than he was. They were all watching him as he moved to sit on the table in front of the couch, expectant but scared. He had to cut to the chase here.
“They haven’t found him yet,” he started.
“But they did find something,” Hoseok guessed, his eyes narrowed.
Namjoon shifted, rested his elbows on his knees. “The person who had been sending the texts. It was some girl. They found her. But she….she wasn’t really the one doing all of it.”
“What does that mean?” Jimin asked, gripping his knees tightly.
“Police said that she admitted to the texts, even admitted to following Yoongi some of the time but she said someone paid her to do all of it. They think that’s how whoever it was got all of our numbers, and got people to play police officers to get Yoongi out of here. They probably have a lot of money.”
He went silent after that, and didn’t even need to look up to know how they felt about all of that. They had been counting on the police being able to track down who had done it through the phone or the hit and run but if whoever it was had paid people to do those things…
“Then how are they going to find him?” Taehyung voiced the question out loud. Namjoon looked away, blinked back tears.
“I don’t know.”
There was a difference between valuing his alone time when he was usually surrounded by people, and being really alone.
Yoongi lay on his side on the mattress in the complete darkness, half curled up. He’d never really thought of himself as the type of person as needing of human contact but in the darkness, locked up, in the total silence, he found himself wishing for it. Even the stupid, small things.
The aching hunger wasn’t helping that. He’d even felt a little dizzy when he’d stood last. His chest ached almost as fiercely as his stomach when his mind drifted to the way that Hoseok liked to nag him about his eating habits.
He didn’t even know if Hoseok was okay. He’d woken up here before he’d gotten any news about the crash. Hoseok, Jimin, and Jungkook could be hurt and he wasn’t…he wasn’t there.
There was this part of him, this part that he would call childish, that wanted them to come bursting into the room and take him home. He wouldn’t even be irritated when Jin pushed food on him, when Hoseok nagged, when Namjoon flapped around him like an overprotective mother hen, when the kids got too far up into his personal space.
The lights came on, and Yoongi simply closed his eyes against the blinding brightness but didn’t move.
He was lightheaded and weak the next time he got up to move towards the sink in the bathroom to get a drink of water. The person who had locked him in there had even provided little paper cups next to the faucet.
He wouldn’t get dehydrated, but he wondered how long it would take for the harsher symptoms of getting almost no food to appear. Once, when Yoongi was young, before he’d joined BigHit but after his parents had decided they wanted nothing to do with him, he had looked up how long a person could survive without food. It had been a somewhat morbid curiosity after he’d gone two days without eating once.
He seen articles saying it could go from twenty to over forty days before life threatening symptoms showed up depending on a person’s body type. He was pretty sure he would be on the shorter time frame of that. He was already small, already skinny.
He lay back down, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes, a new fear joining with the others. What if they just left him in there to starve? Logic said that was unlikely but he’d been alone in the room, in that silence for days now, constantly on edge. It was hard to think logically.
There was someone brushing their fingers softly through his hair. “Yoongi,” a voice said, right at his ear.“Hyung?” The hand moved down to squeeze his shoulder-
Yoongi jerked awake, turning over as he did so, his heart pounding in his ears. The lights were still on. He was alone still but he could have sworn…He sat up, and then squeezed his eyes shut at the dizziness that move caused, settling his head between his bent knees for a moment.
The dream had felt like a memory, but the others generally stayed away from him when he was sleeping. They hardly did things like that. He grimaced when he remembered getting the flu and how he’d balked at the idea of them taking care of him.
That part of him that had wanted to let them was back. He wasn’t a child. He was the eldest aside from Jin. He was supposed to take care of them. He wasn’t a child but he wanted them to. He wanted them back, to dispel the terror and anxiety that had taken up residence and would not leave.
He wanted them to make it better.
It was next to impossible to sleep. Partly because of the anxiety, partly because of the ache in his stomach. When he did fall into one, he had dreams, mostly of the other members that made his chest ache as well.
It was getting hard to concentrate which only made it easier to fall inside his own head, and it was getting more difficult to make the short trip to the small bathroom.
He was curled up on the mattress, cold and hurting. He had never missed anything more than he did the dorm, than them, even their more overbearing and annoying qualities.
He’d lost count of the days. He was pretty sure the light going off was the end of one, but he’d lost count when it had gotten harder and harder to concentrate, when it had gotten difficult to lift himself up from the bed.
He’d lost count when it finally happened. He was shaking from lack of food, and he tried to push himself up at the noise from the other side of the door. However, it wasn’t the small opening at the bottom this time.
The terror came back with a vengeance and he stopped breathing for a moment when the door finally swung open.
I don't have a good idea of how long it would take for symptoms like the ones I used in this chapter to show up. It's hard to find that info and I have no frame of reference. I am hypoglycemic so I can go five hours without eating and feel weak and out of sorts.
Also since someone has already asked I will say that there will be no rape scenes in this story. I don’t write that and probably never will. If I ever do change my mind on that, I will put that warning on any story like that.
I'm not sure about this chapter. I hope that I conveyed Yoongi's emotions well enough. Hope you guys like it.
Yoongi tried to scramble up as the door opened but he was shaking pretty badly. The fear spiked when he caught sight of the man standing in the now open doorway. It was the guy from the fan signing-Jae?-and he seemed even bigger than Yoongi remembered.
Yoongi’s knees nearly gave out when he did make it to his feet. The man was fast, he reached out, closing his hand around one of Yoongi’s forearms and pulled, making him stumble and fall into the man’s chest. The grip left his arm to snake around him, holding him restrictively against the man’s chest.
He struggled against the hold but he’d gone what he figured was a week without eating. Even without that, Yoongi had never exactly been the strongest person physically. This man dwarfed him in size and held him still with ease.
“Let me go!” There was anger in his voice but the undercurrent of fear could probably be heard as well.
To his surprise, Jae did as he asked, pushing him back until he landed on the mattress and towering over Yoongi. Yoongi scrambled away from him, his fear of what might happen now nearly overwhelming him.
“I told you,” Jae said with a smile that he probably thought was charming, “I’ll not touch you until you ask.”
“That’ll never happen,” Yoongi ground out.
Jae just smiled. “We’ll see.” He backed away from Yoongi and out the door, closing it behind him.
Yoongi curled in on himself after he had gone, trembling.
A little over a week after Yoongi had disappeared, Namjoon was walking back from yet another meeting with BigHit that consisted of just the same talk that they’d been having for days when he passed by Yoongi’s studio and noticed that the door wasn’t completely shut.
Namjoon pushed it open and he frowned. Jungkook was sitting in Yoongi’s desk chair in front of Yoongi’s equipment. The kid had gotten rid of the sling and his ribs were on the mend but it would still be a couple of weeks before they were healed completely.
Jungkook jerked his head up from where he had been resting it against the back of the chair, looked at him as Namjoon closed the door behind him, and then settled back.
“What are you doing here? Does Jin know you’re here?”
Jungkook grimaced. “Hoseok does. I needed to get out of the dorm, hyung.”
Namjoon nodded and sat down on the stool in front of Yoongi’s keyboard, staring down at the keys for a moment. “Yeah. I get it.” The atmosphere in the dorm had become quite stifling. “You know the door code?”
Jungkook hesitated, watching him a moment before answering. “Yoongi gave it to me. Told me not to tell the others.”
Namjoon’s eyebrows shot up in surprise but then, when he thought about it, it kind of made sense. In a lot of ways, Yoongi and Jungkook were alike. They’re aversion to excessive touching was one way. The other was that they could both go long periods of time without the need to fill the silence with talk.
“And you wanted to be here,” Namjoon guessed, because this was more Yoongi’s space than even his side of his and Jin’s room at the dorm.
Jungkook rolled his head to the side so he could meet Namjoon’s eyes. “Do you think they’ll find him?” His voice wavered a bit.
Namjoon steeled himself and nodded, trying his best to keep any doubt he felt out of his expression. “Of course, Kook. They’ll find him.”
Jungkook stared at him another few seconds, searching his expression before he blew out a breath and went back to staring at the ceiling. “Yeah.”
Namjoon turned his gaze back down to the keyboard and refused to acknowledge the doubts even to himself.
The cycle happened all over again. He was alone again. Alone in the silence and then the darkness. More food, though, was being pushed through the bottom of the door than last time, though.
It was just enough to keep him from shaking uncontrollably but his limbs still felt weak. He was left with the prospect that, if Jae kept his promise, he would be left in this room indefinitely. The ache in his chest had bloomed into something quite a bit more painful as the days wore on.
He figured that someone could go crazy like this, if given enough time. Maybe he would, and then maybe he’d give into the monster that had locked him up here. There was another fear.
He had dreams of them. He had dreams of them talking, only for their voices to fade as soon as he woke. He had dreams of Jin’s hands in his hair or his fingers intertwined with Taehyung’s, or Jungkook’s arms around him in a back hug only for the touch disappear as soon as he woke up.
He lost count how many times it had happened when he’d woken up and been unable to stop himself from crying into his arms, that terrible feeling of helpless despair making him sick.
It was maddening, and he figured that was how people went crazy from being isolated. He went over the room inch by inch again just to try and desperately keep his mind off of it, and that was when he saw it.
He counted the times the lights went out this time. It was the only thing he had to do. After the seventh time, Jae came back.
Two weeks after Yoongi had disappeared; Jin was desperately trying to keep everything together.
The kids had had a pretty massive fight the night before over something incredibly stupid. It had been brewing for a while, though, mainly due to the atmosphere in the dorm. Jin had stood stalled in the living room door at the time, watching Taehyung, Jimin, and Jungkook.
There was a thought that kicked him in the chest that it was usually Yoongi who broke up these sorts of things. It was usually Yoongi who disciplined the kids, with a sharp tongue and a selective immunity to their sad faces.
The fight wasn’t even about whatever had set it off. They were just letting off steam. They just needed to yell at someone. Yoongi was gone, and the longer he stayed gone, the less hope they had that they would see him again.
Jin had been trying to be optimistic, for them, but he knew how likely it was for someone to come back after being gone so long. Jin hadn’t broken up the fight. Instead, he’d stumbled away from the room, feeling sick to his stomach.
Yoongi flinched away from the man when Jae reached for him again, as he repeated what he’d said last time.
“All you have to do is ask, and I’ll take you out of here.”
Yoongi pressed himself against the wall the bed was pushed against and shook his head. “No.”
The big man sighed, nodded and backed out of the room once again. Yoongi watched him go and then stared at the metal frame of the bed from where he was sitting. The frame was bolted to the floor, the rest of it held together with large screws. The metal was sturdy, thick and there was one connected piece that wouldn’t compromise the entire thing.
Determination seeped through the fear and the depression brought on by the loneliness and silence of the room.
Taehyung had cried again in his bed the night after they’d had the fight. He wasn’t even sure what the fight had been about. He’d just been frustrated, and he’d seen the same in Jungkook and Jimin.
He was afraid. He’d been so since Yoongi had disappeared. There was a new fear mixing in though as well. He was worried that BigHit would want them to go on. Namjoon had come home angry the other day. He hadn’t told them all what had happened but Taehyung had eavesdropped on his conversation with Jin, enough to overhear that some people in the company were speculating about how low of a chance it was that they’d ever find Yoongi after so long.
It had only been a little over two weeks but there was some bitter, angry part of him that thought they would still want them to. They’d gotten popular in America, hadn’t they? The policy was to go, go, go. Not to take breaks.
He didn’t think they’d push them to yet but they would eventually, wouldn’t they? If Yoongi didn’t come home. If he was just gone forever. Taehyung cried harder at the thought.
Yoongi waited again. He had more of the dreams. The pain in his chest got worse but there was an incomplete plan that he didn’t even know if he could pull off there too. He didn’t know if it would work, but he didn’t have anything else to do, did he?
He needed them, so much more than he had ever had. He had to at least try and make it to them himself.
He was aware of the damage he was doing to his hands. He couldn’t see but he still knew it when they started to bleed. They hurt, so badly that involuntary tears stung his eyes but he kept going. He had hours in the dark to keep going, to try. He wrapped his hands in a shirt and kept at it.
When it finally loosened, Yoongi sat back and cried for a completely different reason.
Namjoon stood in front of the produce section in the market, staring down at it a little blankly. He’d offered to go get groceries because they were entirely out of food at the dorm but it hadn’t been until he’d made it there, standing in front of a cart with Seokjin’s list clasped in one hand that the feeling of absurdity invaded. It was almost surreal, doing such a menial and normal task when Yoongi was still missing.
It had been three weeks, and this feeling still caught him every time he did some regular thing that had always been a part of normal routine. He looked at the money he had for everything and remembered that it was usually Yoongi that handled the money and budget. He looked over the foods available and wondered if he’d ever have cause to buy Yoongi’s favorite things again.
Yoongi was lying on his stomach when the lights came on again, staring at the wall opposite the bed. He squeezed them shut for a moment when he heard the door open, trying desperately to reign in how absolutely terrified he was.
Taking a breath, he hoped he had evened out his expression.
“Have you changed your mind yet?” Jae asked, stepping into his field of view and crouching down. Yoongi stared straight past him, biting his lip and blinking back more tears. The man sighed and shook his head, his expression condescending enough to spark anger in Yoongi as well.
“All you have to do is ask.”
Yoongi shook his head. Jae sighed again and started to turn, still crouched. That was when Yoongi lifted up, moving up to his knees fast and bringing the metal bar in his hands down on the man’s head as hard as he could.
They were all sitting in the living room while they waited for Namjoon to get back. Jungkook didn’t need the recliner any longer and he was squeezed in on the couch in between Seokjin and Jimin.
None of them were paying much attention to the movie, mostly because they were waiting for Namjoon to get home. They’d all needed time away from the dorm at certain points, and they could certainly understand Namjoon needing to do something that wasn’t speaking with their managers or the cops, to do something that didn’t involve endless conversations about the possible outcomes of Yoongi’s disappearance, they had come to the point that now that it was harder to be okay without them all together.
Well, as okay as they could be when they weren’t really all together.
There was blood. Blood on his hands where he’d torn them loosening the screws on the bed’s metal frame. Blood leaking from the wound he’d just inflicted on his captor. Yoongi had frozen after the man had fallen, knocking his head again on the metal frame on his way down.
He was unconscious. He was unconscious and the door was wide open. Yoongi’s breath hitched and he leapt over him, moving as fast as he could in his weakened state and making it out the door.
He closed it shut behind him, leaning back against it and taking a few deep breaths to stave off the breakdown that he couldn’t afford to happen right at that moment. He stumbled away from the door.
He was in a house, and a very large one at that. The room he’d been kept in was on the bottom floor and he could see a hall ahead. He walked down it, leaving bloody handprints behind where he braced himself on the wall and stopped at the table beside the door.
Keys. He grabbed them, and went out, blinking at the brightness of the sun. He was out. He managed not to breakdown completely as he made his way over to the car sitting in the drive, but couldn’t stop the tears.
Namjoon had taken his time at the market, taken his time filling the trunk of the car with the bags of groceries. He’d slid into the backseat rather than the front as the security guard drove him back to the apartment complex.
His thoughts were still rather depressing and he still didn’t want to bring that back to the dorm, even though he hadn’t always been able to help that in the last three weeks. He was pretty sure the others could always tell anyway.
He was getting some of the bags from the trunk after they’d stopped and had just straightened when a car pulled up in front of them. A very expensive looking car as well. Namjoon frowned when the door to the car opened and he saw someone literally stumble out.
The security guard straightened as well, instantly on alert but Namjoon, once the person had cleared the door, dropped the groceries in his hands, uncaring of the cans that rolled away and the bag of noodles that broke.
“Yoongi?” He breathed, disbelievingly.
Yoongi struggled back to his feet, and his voice cracked when he spoke. “Joonie.”
Namjoon took only seconds to take in his appearance, to take in the bloody hands, how horribly thin he was, the bags under his eyes, the tears rolling down his cheeks, and then he was striding forward.
Namjoon dragged Yoongi into an almost crushing embrace, buried his nose into Yoongi’s tangled hair, and sobbed.
Sorry this chapter is a little shorter than the others but I thought it worked as a transitional chapter to get to the hurt/comfort stuff.
The onsehot Touch that I wrote a while back was the reason for this story. I thought it was rushed and I wanted to expand on it but there is a bit from that story in this chapter, mainly the second part of this chapter just to let you guys know.
I am expanding everything though. The hurt/comfort parts are my favorite.
Namjoon cradled Yoongi against his chest and took a moment while the overwhelming relief that he could do so ran through him. He looked up towards the security guard, mouthed the words hospital and cops, hardly waiting until he got a nod back and the man moved back towards the driver’s side of the car again before he turned all of his attention back to Yoongi.
Namjoon could feel the tears against his skin where Yoongi’s face was tucked in Namjoon’s neck. He glanced towards the apartment complex, wanting so badly to get Jin and the others down here but that would take time. It would be better to have them meet them at the hospital.
Still, Namjoon stalled a moment. He had no idea how this had happened, how Yoongi had gotten away but he was so grateful he had, so relieved that it was hard to get his emotions under control enough to do what he needed to do.
The thought that he’d already failed Yoongi once was what got him moving, though. He hadn’t protected Yoongi like he’d promised but he would take care of him. He attempted to straighten but Yoongi pressed even closer to him in response, clutching at him desperately.
Namjoon hesitated, thinking that before this had happened Yoongi would have killed him for doing it, before moving his hands down to Yoongi’s thighs and lifting him up. Yoongi didn’t even protest this time, simply wrapping his legs around Namjoon’s waste and letting Namjoon carry him to the car.
It was difficult getting in the car with Yoongi refusing to let him move away any at all. Namjoon was also pretty sure that, from his breathing, that he was at the beginning of what would be a pretty massive breakdown. After a minute, he ended up in the backseat with Yoongi in his lap.
He tried to get his phone out to call Jin when Yoongi spoke again. “Joon?” He’d pulled his head back some, staring at Namjoon with some amount of fear.
“Yeah.” He put one hand on the side of Yoongi’s face, wiping some of the tears with his thumb. “Yeah. I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to take care of you, okay?”
Yoongi hid his face again in Namjoon’s neck, and really broke down. He cried so hard he was almost hyperventilating. Namjoon rocked him, whispering to him, assuring him that he was safe, that Namjoon wasn’t going to leave.
It lasted a while, and by the time that Yoongi was resting tiredly against him, they’d already stopped at the hospital and the security guard had gone in ahead to try and get them some privacy. The last thing they needed was the media to catch wind while Yoongi was so vulnerable.
“I was going to call the others,” Namjoon said working his fingers through Yoongi’s hair. “Do you want to see them?”
“Please.” Yoongi’s voice was little more than a hoarse whisper. He gripped the front of Namjoon’s shirt with one hand. “Don’t….don’t leave.”
Namjoon dropped a kiss in his hair. “Never.”
An argument had broken out in the living room. Jin pressed his fingers into his forehead. Arguments had been more easily sparked over the last three weeks because of the atmosphere in the dorm. This one was the height of stupidity. What did it matter what movie they watched if none of them were really going to really pay attention anyway.
When his phone rang, and he saw Namjoon’s name pop up, he took the opportunity to slip into the kitchen before answering. Namjoon had taken longer than usual but Jin understood why considering.
“Hyung,” Namjoon’s voice was thick with what Jin thought was tears when he spoke, and Jin straightened.
“What’s wrong?” What had happened now?
“Hyung…Yoongi…he…I have him.”
Jin froze, eyes going wide. “What?”
“He got away.” This time, Jin could hear the sheer relief in Namjoon’s voice. “I don’t know how yet but he did. Come to the hospital. Bring the others. He’s…He wants to see you.”
There was a pause on the line and then Jin heard a voice in the background. “Joonie.” The voice was hoarse but still recognizable. It nearly brought Jin to his knees.
“I have to go, hyung,” Namjoon said. “Just come, okay?”
Namjoon hung up the phone and Jin stood still for several seconds, and then his knees really did give out and he ended up on the floor of the kitchen. He didn’t fight the tears this time, the relief so strong it was overwhelming.
Jin looked up to see Hoseok standing there, looking worried and Jin smiled, actually laughed through the tears. He stood on shaking legs and put hands on Hoseok’s shoulders, steering him back to the others.
They were still bickering. “Stop!” Hoseok yelled at them and the three youngest did, turning towards them and noticing the fact that Jin was crying.
Jimin stepped forward, his eyes wide and scared. “Hyung? Is something wrong?”
Seokjin laughed again and pulled Jimin into a hug, squeezing him tightly. He looked up at the others. “Namjoon called. Yoongi’s back.”
“What?” Taehyung responded. “How…? I mean…”
“He’s in the hospital. Namjoon said he got away himself.” He reached out to clutch at Taehyung’s arm. “I heard him in the background.”
Jin watched as the news hit them. After three weeks of worry, three weeks of the news and others speculating about how unlikely this outcome would be, after three weeks he could hardly believe it.
Taehyung was the first to move, choking back tears of his own and fitting himself into the embrace with Jin and Jimin. Hoseok and Jungkook followed his example soon after, and the five of them stood there embracing, all of them crying for different reasons than they had in the last three weeks.
Namjoon had sat on the hospital bed with Yoongi pressed against him the entire time he was looked over. Yoongi had looked panicked when the doctor had asked if he wanted Namjoon to leave the room until he’d been reassured that Namjoon could stay if he wanted it so.
Namjoon was worried about that. Not that he wanted to let Yoongi go, he was pretty sure he wouldn’t want to let Yoongi out of his sight for a while yet, but he’d thought that it was the breakdown that had had Yoongi clutching to him so tightly. However, Yoongi looked actually terrified with the prospect of Namjoon leaving.
Namjoon watched the nurse wrap Yoongi’s fingers after they were cleaned with a frown. “How did…?” He trailed off, unsure if he even should finish the question. Yoongi hadn’t answered most of the doctor’s questions, and Namjoon thought they should probably give him time before they asked.
Yoongi’s lips thinned and his gaze darted up towards the nurse before shaking his head and leaning more firmly into Namjoon’s chest.
“Are you hurt anywhere else?” The woman asked after she’d taped the last bit of gauze down.
Yoongi shrunk a little into himself. “No,” he said quietly. Namjoon ran a hand softly down his back, and wondered if that was the truth or not.
“I can get you some scrubs,” the nurse offered Namjoon, and he nodded after glancing down at the bloody handprints on his shirt. His arms had smears of it as well, and it made Namjoon kind of sick that it was Yoongi’s blood.
“Please. Thank you.”
She nodded and the both of them got Yoongi to lie back on the propped up bed so that she could insert an IV. Yoongi was malnourished, but that and his hands seemed to be the only physical signs of his kidnapping.
When she came back with a scrub shirt, and Namjoon got up to go to the small bathroom a few feet from the bed, Yoongi’s bandaged hands had shot out, clutching at him again. He looked scared again and Namjoon leaned over him.
“It’s okay. I’m just going to get cleaned up.”
But Yoongi shook his head. “Joon…I can’t…Don’t…”
Namjoon put his hands over Yoongi’s where they were gripping his shirt. “Look,” he said, moving a bit so Yoongi could see the bathroom, “I’ll leave the door open, okay? You can watch me if you want. I’m just going to change my shirt and wash off my arms and hands, okay?”
Yoongi’s gaze darted towards the bathroom and then he searched Namjoon’s expression for a moment. Namjoon kept it reassuring, trying his best to convey the sincerity. Yoongi must have seen it because he finally nodded and let Namjoon go but he kept his gaze trained on him the entire time Namjoon was out of reach.
When Namjoon came back, he sat on the bed next to Yoongi and Yoongi immediately leaned against him again. Namjoon ran fingers through Yoongi’s hair, murmuring to him softly until Yoongi finally fell asleep in his arms.
Jungkook jogged down the hallway of the hospital, the only thing keeping him from the sprint he wanted to run was the hand Jin had tightly gripped on his arm. He was so anxious and jittery he felt like he was coming out of his own skin.
Hoseok, Jimin, and Taehyung were all scattered around them, and they all stopped short in front of the right hospital room. Seokjin’s hand shook when he reached for the doorknob and Jungkook couldn’t blame him. He was shaking too, hadn’t stopped since Seokjin had relayed Namjoon’s message. Three weeks.
The door was pushed open and Jungkook’s eyes tracked around the place, taking the private hospital room before they landed on the bed. The breath punched out of him and he lurched forward, pressing hands to his mouth so he wouldn’t cry out and wake the sleeping figure lying on the bed.
Namjoon was awake, watching them all with tired eyes but it was the smaller boy in his arms that Jungkook really focused on. Yoongi. His eyes roamed over the man, taking in every detail. He was curled into Namjoon’s chest, one hand fisted into Namjoon’s shirt. Jungkook swallowed at the bandages the fingers on both of Yoongi’s hands were wrapped in. He was also achingly thin.
Three weeks. Three of the longest weeks of his life. He ached to reach out, to touch and confirm that Yoongi was real, that he was there, that this wasn’t some dream he was having.
When a cry came from behind Jungkook, which he thought was from Jimin, he jumped, and Yoongi jerked awake. There was fear on his face for just a second before wide, bloodshot eyes roamed over all of them. His eyes were swollen from crying and there were prominent bags under them that they took to mean he’d slept very little in the three weeks he’d been gone.
The five of them seemed to stall and then Yoongi reached out for them with one bandaged hand. Jungkook moved forward automatically again, his need to touch overwhelming him. Yoongi looked almost desperate as well, but relaxed somewhat when Jungkook grasped his hand gently, worried about what injuries might be hiding under the white gauze. Jungkook glanced away from Yoongi only briefly to note Namjoon tighten his hold on Yoongi a bit.
Jungkook’s move seemed incentive enough for the rest of them and they crowded around Yoongi’s bed. The rest of them hesitated before touching, but also saw the way that Yoongi relaxed even more when Jin reached out to softly run a hand through Yoongi’s hair.
Hoseok gently took the hand with the IV attached; running his thumb softly over Yoongi’s knuckles, and Taehyung and Jimin took places near the end of the bed, hands resting on top of Yoongi’s blanket covered knees.
“Real.” Yoongi’s voice was rough, hoarse. He squeezed Jungkook’s hand.
“Yeah,” Jungkook answered with a watery laugh. He wiped at his eyes with his free hand and squeezed Yoongi’s back. “Yeah. Real.”
“Stay.” It was almost a demand, but with half the force Jungkook knew Yoongi could put behind it. Seokjin scratched along Yoongi’s scalp.
“Of course we’re staying.”
Yoongi relaxed even further at that, and he didn’t let go of Jungkook’s hand as he fell back to sleep.
Seokjin stood up from the chair beside Yoongi’s hospital bed as soon as Namjoon came out of the bathroom. Namjoon had waited around a half hour with Yoongi sleeping against him before he’d been unable to ignore his bladder any longer.
Jin took his hand before he could move back to the bed and pulled him away from it. “Hyung,” Namjoon started to protest, looking back towards Yoongi’s curled up form. The others watched them but didn’t interfere as Jin shook his head.
“Just a minute, Joon. Please.”
Namjoon hesitated but in the end nodded. He still looked to the other four members. “One of you take my place then. Don’t let him wake up alone.”
They frowned a bit. They hadn’t seen the panic on Yoongi’s face at the mere mention of Namjoon leaving him alone, hadn’t seen the fear when Namjoon had tried to detach himself just to go to the bathroom earlier. Namjoon was hoping that was a temporary thing, but he didn’t want to take the risk.
Even if they hadn’t seen it, though, Hoseok still obliged him, sitting next to Yoongi on the bed in Namjoon’s place and settling a hand in the smaller man’s hair. Namjoon let Jin take him out into the hall after that.
“What is it?” He asked, a little rigidly, wondering if Jin was going to ask him what he knew.
“I just…are you alright, Namjoon?”
The question surprised him and he blinked rapidly. “I…” He paused, clenching and unclenching his hands. “I don’t…” He leaned closer to Jin. “He wouldn’t let go of me, hyung. He almost freaked out when the doctor suggested that I leave the room and wouldn’t let me go to the bathroom to wash my hands and change my shirt until I promised I’d leave the door open.”
He said all this in a rush, and then continued, relaying everything that had happened since Yoongi had pulled up in that expensive looking car. Yoongi hated the clinginess. It was one of the reasons he’d been the most reticent when they’d all first gotten together. He liked his alone time and could only stand so much of people invading his personal space until he had to back away.
That all of that had changed scared Namjoon. It wasn’t that he disliked being near Yoongi, or letting the older boy cling to him. It was that that had never been Yoongi, and what scared him was what could have happened to Yoongi over the last three weeks to change that.
“I don’t know what to do,” Namjoon admitted quietly.
Jin pulled Namjoon into an embrace, squeezing him tightly. “I think you’ve done everything right so far,” he said quietly. “We just be there however he needs, like always, right?”
“Right.” Namjoon pulled back, wiping a hand over his eyes.
“Excuse me?” A new voice called, and Namjoon turned to find a police officer standing behind him.
Yoongi had shrunk even further into himself at the sight of the police officer and after everyone but Namjoon had left the room. He was sitting up in the bed, head resting on Namjoon’s shoulder.
Namjoon was sitting somewhat stiffly. He understood they needed the information, but he hadn’t liked waking Yoongi up again, or kicking the other members out. He was also very aware that he might hear just what Yoongi had gone through.
The officer had stepped closer. Asked if he had recognized the two men who had taken him from the apartment complex? No. Asked him if he recognized the place he’d been taken to? No.
Asked him to tell him about what had been done…
“He didn’t…” Yoongi’s breath hitched and he curled further into himself. “He just locked me in a room and left me there,” he said finally.
There was some amount of relief at that, that Yoongi hadn’t been…assaulted. The clinginess made more sense, he thought, as Yoongi answered the rest of the questions in short, one word sentences. The guy had left him alone in a barren room for three weeks.
It was hearing it that sparked the anger in Namjoon. Up to this point, he’d only been worried and scared for Yoongi, he hadn’t let himself even think on the man who had done this to him.
“Well?” Jin asked as soon as they were let back in the room.
“They got his address off the car Yoongi stole from him. We’ll know soon if they’ve found the fucker.” Some of Namjoon’s anger leaked into his tone and Yoongi’s grip on him tightened and Namjoon ran a hand down his back, making an effort to quell the anger, at least while he was in the room with Yoongi.
Hoseok had never begrudged Yoongi for the way he was. Some people just didn’t like to be touched a lot. It wasn’t a problem that needed to be fixed really. Sure, Yoongi did have some mental health issues, worse years ago, but even when he was in good health, he didn’t like it to the excess.
Hoseok had figured he never would. Some people were just like that and he loved Yoongi the way he was just fine. He didn’t need to drape himself all over the boy all the time, and it meant more when Yoongi did allow it, knowing that he only did because he loved them back.
All of this was why it was distressing how Yoongi was clinging to him as they walked to the car. He hadn’t stayed long in the hospital, his hands and malnutrition being the only physical problems. They’d been sent home with some instructions on how to fix that the rest of the way.
Yoongi let Hoseok wrap an arm around his shoulders, and got as close to Hoseok as he could while they walked through the parking lot. He held onto Hoseok’s hand as they got into the car. He rested against him when they drove away.
Hoseok let him, would let him for as long as he wanted but it worried him. Seokjin, Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook had left earlier and by the time they got back to the apartment complex, they’d already prepared food.
They chattered while they ate, all of them relieved that Yoongi was home. Yoongi had leaned into Hoseok during the meal, still tired, and enveloped in a hoodie too big for him that Hoseok was pretty sure was Jin’s.
The knock on the door came after they’d all eaten and Yoongi was dozing against Hoseok’s shoulder on the couch. Jimin had turned the television on to some show, volume down low enough not to disturb Yoongi.
Namjoon had gotten up to answer the door, but returned less than a minute later. He glanced towards Hoseok before leaning down and squeezing Yoongi’s knee.
“Hm?” Yoongi’s eyes opened and Namjoon tilted his head towards the front door.
“You need to come with me for a minute.” He gripped Yoongi’s hand and pulled him to his feet, not letting go while they walked out of the room.
Hoseok leaned sideways on the couch, and caught a glimpse of the police officer standing there before Yoongi and Namjoon stepped out into the hall with him. The others looked as well and Hoseok chewed his lip.
“Maybe they found the guy,” he said. Hopefully. Namjoon had told them the story Yoongi had told the cops. It was a bit unreal.
“Hopefully,” Jin agreed.
It didn’t take long, less than ten minutes before Yoongi and Namjoon came back in the room. Hoseok’s chest constricted at the almost dazed look on Yoongi’s face, at the unshed tears in his eyes.
He let go of Namjoon and moved over to the couch, surprising Hoseok by lying down next to him, head in Hoseok’s lap, his legs ending up in Jin’s. He turned so he could bury his face in Hoseok’s stomach, wrapped an arm around Hoseok’s waste and his shoulders shook.
The devastated look on Namjoon’s face as he watched Yoongi tore at Hoseok as well and he bent forward a bit so he could get an arm around Yoongi, his other hand moving to the smaller boy’s hair.
“What is it?” Hoseok asked in a hushed voice.
Namjoon’s gaze flickered back and forth between him and Yoongi for several seconds before he answered. “They didn’t find him.”
Hoseok sucked in a breath and squeezed Yoongi just a little bit tighter.
“They found blood…on the floor…in that room…but not him…”
“And….” Yoongi’s voice was muffled in Hoseok’s shirt and strained.
Namjoon grimaced. “And they found stuff that proves how obsessed the guy is.” He paused. “Pictures, videos…other things.”
Hoseok wanted to ask what other things but Yoongi had tensed further in his arms at Namjoon’s words and he didn’t. Later. He’d worry about that later, when Yoongi wasn’t crying against his abdomen.
He bent further, pressing a kiss to Yoongi’s shoulder and leaving his head there. They hadn’t found the guy. Hoseok’s lips thinned and he whispered reassurances to Yoongi.
They hadn’t protected him before. They would this time. They wouldn’t let him out of their sight until that man was caught.
Hoseok shut the door softly to his room with a small frown on his face. His and Jimin’s beds were still pushed together and the kids had curled up in them with Yoongi in the middle. Yoongi had cried himself to sleep, and Hoseok couldn’t get over how tiny and vulnerable he looked with his swollen eyes, and oversized hoodie, pressed in-between Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jimin.
He ran a hand tiredly through his hair as he joined Namjoon and Seokjin in the kitchen where the two of them were washing dishes in silence. He sat at the island, waiting until they finished and Namjoon was wiping his hands on a towel, facing him before he asked.
Namjoon paused, hesitated. “I need you not to tell anyone about this,” he started with a pained look. “The police are going to look into it but we can’t even talk to our managers about it. Not yet.”
“Okay.” Both Hoseok and Jin nodded.
“They found some stuff that Yoongi recognized. Notes on songs that he’d discarded, stuff that Yoongi thinks the guy had to of gotten from his studio.”
Hoseok stilled, shocked. “What?”
“A hat that Jungkook bought him that he kept there. Stuff like that. They think maybe the guy paid off someone at the company to get into Yoongi’s studio, probably how he got all of our phone numbers, and got Yoongi’s so soon after he changed it. They’re looking into who had the door code but…”
Hoseok’s fists clenched. “Shit.” And there went another place that Yoongi wouldn’t feel safe in.
Shame. It crawled up in Yoongi when he woke up pressed up into Jungkook’s chest, when he noted that Jimin was pressed against his back. It was such a strong feeling that he was nearly sick with it and wouldn’t that be great? Then they’d just be more worried.
Weak. He was weak. He’d cried again, this time all over Hoseok, and then let himself be carted off with the kids. But it had been almost suffocating, that fear. It had been after he’d found Namjoon, and after the police had proven that Jae had gotten into his studio, which might mean that someone at Big Hit had let him in.
Yoongi sat up carefully and then hesitated. The fear was irrational, he knew that. He could have let go of Namjoon when he’d been in the hospital without anything bad happening, but the fact that it was irrational didn’t help it go away.
Yoongi’s clenched his fists and then slid down the bed as quietly as possible. The three boys slept on, undisturbed, thankfully. He stood and, crossing his arms tightly over his chest, made his way out the door.
He stalled in the doorway of the living room. It was dark in the dorm, everyone was asleep. He stood, staring out into that darkness and the fear came back, just as bad as before. Yoongi stood, rooted in the spot, not even able to move back to the room he’d just come out of.
Yoongi jumped and spun around, relieved to find Seokjin there, reaching for the older boy automatically. Seokjin pulled him close, fitting Yoongi under his arm and used his other hand to flick the lights on.
Yoongi flushed. There was nobody there and the fear had receded as soon as Jin had put that arm around him.
“Help me make breakfast?”
Yoongi nodded. It was at least something normal, something he’d done a lot with Jin and Hoseok over the years. He let Jin steer him towards the kitchen, making sure to turn on all of the lights before they went too deep into the rooms.
Yoongi sat curled up on the couch, watching Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jimin play a game. Namjoon had left around thirty minutes ago and Yoongi was jittery because of it. Jin and Hoseok were egging on the competition they had going, laughing loudly.
About halfway through a competition Yoongi was pretty sure Jungkook was going to win, Hoseok’s text notification went off. Yoongi had gotten his own phone back, changed the number again but he hadn’t turned it back on since he’d gotten it back, that fear still there.
He hadn’t seen the news at all but he knew the media had gotten wind that he was back, and Yoongi figured one of the things their managers wanted to talk to Namjoon about was what they were going to say about it to the media.
They’d wanted Yoongi to come in as well, but to his shame, he’d found himself terrified of leaving the apartments now that he was here, even more so of going there, to some office that was just down the hall from his studio. He could have been sitting across from someone who had helped Jae, who had let that man invade his personal space and steal from it.
When Yoongi looked up at Hoseok from where he was leaning against the boy, he frowned at how pale he had gotten. Yoongi tilted his head and the fear, sharp and terrible, came roaring back when he saw the text Hoseok had been sent.
“I’m here ;).” Under that was a picture of the inside of the apartment complex’s elevator.
Hoseok had been scrolling through Twitter when he’d been sent the text, scrolling through the hundreds of messages about Yoongi. The news had hit that Yoongi had gotten away and was home safe, and the well wishes had poured in.
He’d been debating whether he should show them to Yoongi. Maybe it would help or maybe it would just put more pressure on him to return before he was ready. Hoseok, Namjoon, and Jin had discussed it last night, and they were going to push that Big Hit not even think about it until the man who had taken Yoongi was caught, at the very least, as well as whoever it was that had given away their phone numbers and Yoongi’s door code. Namjoon was going to push for more than that because none of them wanted Yoongi to go back until he was a hundred percent.
Trusting anyone at Big Hit was hard at the moment, after what they had learned, and he doubted Yoongi felt safe with anyone from the company either, if his refusal to go with Namjoon to meet with them was anything to go by.
He’d frozen when the text had opened, and hadn’t seen Yoongi reading it as well until it was too late. The sound Yoongi made had Hoseok’s gaze snapping up. His breathing had picked up and his eyes were wide.
“Shit.” He had to go talk to their security, but Yoongi reached out for him when he tried to get up, grabbing his arm.
“Don’t…Don’t go out.”
“I’m just going to talk to the security, okay?” He met Jungkook’s eyes on the other side of Yoongi and the boy nodded, pulling Yoongi until he was facing him.
Hoseok stood while Jungkook tried to get Yoongi to slow his breathing. Jimin took his place, putting hands on Yoongi’s shoulders. Hoseok watched the scene for a few seconds, angry now, and went to speak with security.
Jungkook practically pulled him into his lap and Yoongi didn’t fight him on it. Logically, he knew that something like this could happen. It wasn’t like he’d expected it to stop, as evidenced by the fear that still plagued him.
He leaned into Jungkook and kept his gaze towards the front door, waiting for Hoseok to come back. He wanted Namjoon back too, remembering the car crash. Maybe that incessant fear wouldn’t go away until Jae was caught.
He’d been in the building. In their building, and he suddenly thought the security guard outside the door wasn’t enough. He abruptly pushed away from Jungkook and stood, ignoring both Jungkook and Jimin and rounding the corner to actually see the front door.
A sigh of relief escaped him when Hoseok was coming back in just as he did so, shutting and locking the door behind him.
He felt pathetic even as he let Hoseok wrap him up again.
A week later, their managers were getting antsy.
Yoongi hadn’t left the dorm since they’d brought him home from the hospital, but after a lot of arguing, and a guilt trip that had made Namjoon furious coming from one of their managers; they were walking down the street. Well, four of them were. The fear that had settled after some time had come back, stronger than ever, and Yoongi had latched himself onto them again.
Namjoon still couldn’t help but to smile, just a bit though. Jimin and Hoseok were walking on either side of Yoongi, his hands threaded through their elbows on either side. They both ignored the almost too tight grip Yoongi had own them, goofing around and dancing in step, swinging their legs out wide like they’d seen in some old movie Namjoon couldn’t remember the name of at the moment.
The result was Yoongi groaning and eyeing them like they were five, instead of young men in their mid twenties but Namjoon could see the fondness in his eyes as well. Still, he stalled before they entered the building, pulling Hoseok and Jimin up short.
Namjoon stepped closer and put his hands on Yoongi’s shoulders. “Right here with you, okay?” Namjoon squeezed his shoulders and Yoongi relaxed somewhat. He dropped both of his arms, threading his fingers through Hoseok’s with his right before reaching out with his left to push the door open.
Namjoon only released him when he moved forward. They stalled again, right in front of Yoongi’s studio. There was something in his stance, in his eyes that made Namjoon so sad. It must’ve affected Hoseok the same as well because he squeezed Yoongi’s hand tighter and moved closer.
Yoongi shook himself then and started out again down the hall, but the look stayed.
The plan, the very stupid plan that had made Namjoon, Jimin and Hoseok even more angry was a small fan event. They wanted to get him out since everyone knew he was home but he’d not been seen since.
Yoongi had sat in a chair, watched the three of them arguing with their managers about it, and realized that, no matter what their managers said, they’d refuse to do it if Yoongi told them he didn’t want to, or couldn’t.
Warmth expanded in his chest at this knowledge, and it was initially why he’d reached out to grip Namjoon’s hand and told them he would do it. The decision didn’t come back to haunt him until he was in bed that night.
He wasn’t in his own bed. Shamed as it had made him at times, he still hated waking up alone. He’d had a panic attack on one occasion, and Namjoon, who’d only gone to use the bathroom, had freaked out.
This time, he was on his side in Seokjin’s bed. The older boy was facing him, one arm wrapped loosely low on Yoongi’s torso. He didn’t sleep. The anxiety buzzing under his skin prevented it.
They were being so good about it, so nice. He could have crawled into any of their beds and they would have allowed it. They didn’t judge him over it and he suspected that if he told them how pathetic it made him feel that he couldn’t even get up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night without that fear coming back that they would tell him at length that he wasn’t really.
He’d been trying to force himself not to think about this event Big Hit wanted them to do. It didn’t matter what security they’d assured him they would have, or how they’d said they would screen anyone who was allowed in, it still absolutely terrified him.
He pressed his face into Seokjin’s shirt as his thoughts shifted to that. They’d gotten more texts, some of them threatening like the first one Hoseok had gotten, but nothing had happened so far, and Yoongi couldn’t help but to think that it was because he hadn’t done anything like this yet.
He hated himself a little bit in that moment, hated the feelings, hated that he couldn’t sleep in his own bed, hated that he’d had to build himself up to step out of the dorm, hated that he couldn’t do anything on his own anymore.
He hadn’t realized he’d started shaking, or crying, at first. He did realize when Jin woke during the middle of the minor breakdown when the arm around him tightened, bringing him closer to Jin’s chest.
“I’m so…I’m sorry,” he choked out, gripping Jin’s shirt.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Jin’s hand moved to his hair, smoothing it at the base of his neck, “you have nothing to be sorry for.”
But he felt like he did.
He moved up further until he could bury his face in Jin’s neck. “I hate it,” he said and Jin gripped him even tighter.
“I know. But it won’t always be like this.”
Yoongi didn’t ask how the hell Jin could possibly know that, just held onto him tighter.
Yoongi sat in the backseat off the car, staring out the window at the building he would have to go into soon. Of course, it didn’t matter if Big Hit had screened every person in the building, of course it had leaked and now there was a crowd in front.
The fear was back, of course. It gripped him so tightly that he couldn’t force himself to get out of the car. He searched the crowd of mostly young girls, looking for that face. He’d stand out, wouldn’t he? He was so big.
He turned to see all of his band members as well as the manager-a rather young man named Daehyun-who had driven them staring at him.
“I’m okay,” he mumbled, even though it was obvious he wasn’t. What the hell was he supposed to do about it, though? He really wanted to go back to the apartments, curl up in between all of them, and not leave. Never leave.
He couldn’t, and what sort of life would that be anyway? He had a job, he had responsibilities. He couldn’t ignore them forever.
“I’m okay,” he repeated. “Let’s go.” He took a deep breath, couldn’t stop himself from reaching for Taehyung’s hand, who was sitting next to him, and then he stepped out.
It went…okay. Yoongi hid for the most part behind the others, let Namjoon do most of the talking, gaze repeatedly sweeping over the fans eager faces. It really was a small event, something to just get the word out that Yoongi was ‘recovering’ as the company put it but the thrum of anxiety was as bad as it had been when he’d been in the hospital.
The childish urge to grab the back of Namjoon’s shirt, bury his face there and not come out until they were back at the apartment complex was difficult to ignore. He tried to keep it off his face, for the cameras in the crowd and for the members who had been giving him increasingly worried looks the longer it went on.
It didn’t turn into disaster until the event was officially over.
The crowd had moved in. The ones outside trying to get in, the ones inside trying to get closer to them. Yoongi gripped the back of Taehyung’s shirt, who was in front of him as they tried to make their way out.
He lost his grip somehow in the press of the crowd, and Yoongi thought for a moment he was going to have a panic attack right there in the middle of it. It got worse when someone grabbed a hold of him, pulling him further away from the others.
He caught a glimpse of Daehyun through blurred vision caused by the panic. A door opened and then he stumbled into a deserted hallway at the event center. He intended to go back. Fuck it, he’d fight through the army of young girls if he could get to Namjoon and the others but new, strong arms wrapped around him from behind.
He opened his mouth, his first instinct to scream because he knew those weren’t the hands of any of his family but a massive hand clamped down across his mouth, pressing the back of his head against a solid chest. The hand pressed so hard his jaw hurt, and another arm constricted around his chest, holding his arms down. It was so tight it was hard to breath.
He watched with wide, panic filled eyes as Daehyun went back the way he came and he was dragged into another room with Jae, struggling the whole way. The new room seemed to be some sort of closet, and the voice in his ear made the panic worse.
“Don’t worry. We’ll just wait until they clear more people out and then we’ll leave.”
Yoongi’s screams were muffled behind that hand. He was pulled back against the wall with Jae and he tried, he really did. He tried to struggle but those arms just constricted tighter around him.
He knew it would make it harder to breath, but he couldn’t stop the sobs, the tears. He couldn’t handle it happening again. He couldn’t.
That was about the time that the door banged open, and Yoongi sobbed in relief this time when he spotted Namjoon framed in the doorway, thunderous expression trained on the man holding Yoongi.
Namjoon’s first priority during the fan meet had been Yoongi from the start. He was worried, so very worried as well as angry with Big Hit for putting the event together when it was very obvious Yoongi wasn’t all okay.
So, he kept one eye on Yoongi the entire time, and when the crowd moved in, he immediately turned, ignoring the security guard trying to keep him moving forward and fought through everyone, gaze searching.
When he was almost free of them, and he still hadn’t seen Yoongi, the worry had heightened but he was there. He spotted Yoongi, being dragged in the opposite direction security were trying to herd the fans, disappearing around a corner. Namjoon followed, panic trying to claw at him and making him forget to snag security before he turned the same corner.
There were doors lining this part of the hall and Namjoon went down, he just caught the sight of a large man holding Yoongi through the window of the first set of double doors. He caught the man disappearing into another door with Yoongi pressed against him.
Namjoon was furious and he slammed through the door and then banged open the other one they had disappeared through. His gaze flickered to Yoongi, being held back to the man’s chest with one hand pressed tightly over his mouth. He was crying and trying to struggle in the hold.
Namjoon had never been more angry in his life and when he spoke, there was a definite growl in his voice. “Let him go.”
One of his arms was freed as Jae hitched him up to the point where his feet were barely touching the floor. He gripped the arm holding his head, digging his fingernails in to get it off but Jae just pulled his head further back. Namjoon took a step closer and Jae tensed, the arm around his chest constricting further, fingers splayed on his ribs.
“Back off,” Jae said.
Namjoon actually snarled at him and took another step towards them instead. In response, Jae used two fingers on the hand on his mouth to pinch Yoongi’s nose closed, hitching him up further until his head was bent back to Jae’s shoulder.
Yoongi struggled harder, trying desperately to pry the hand from his face. “Step back,” Jae ordered, his voice right in Yoongi’s ear. He couldn’t see Namjoon anymore and he was panicking anyway. The panic made his vision blur and his chest ache faster but he had enough presence to feel disgust when the hand on his ribs moved down and then under his shirt, trailing up his stomach and chest.
His hearing had gotten muffled at some point, but he could have sworn he heard a howl before he was pushed away from Jae. No strength in his limbs, he was thrown like a ragdoll into the shelves of equipment and supplies on the wall for a janitor. He vaguely noted Namjoon charging Jae before he was distracted by pain.
His back smashed into the shelves before he could get his breath back, and he tripped over what he thought might be a vacuum. By the time he’d gotten his breath back and had gotten back up on his hands and knees, Jae was on top of Namjoon. They were fighting, but Jae was still bigger than Namjoon, and he threw a couple of powerful punches before Yoongi could get to them.
Yoongi scrambled to his feet, reaching for a broom handle and stumbled towards them. He didn’t think before he smashed it over Jae’s back. The man collapsed to the side and Yoongi bent over Namjoon, a little dizzy himself.
Then Jae was reaching for him, pulling his feet out from under him. Yoongi’s head banged off the floor when he landed and he was dazed long enough for Jae to crawl on top of him.
“You shouldn’t have left! You were supposed to be mine!” He yelled it right in Yoongi’s face and closed his hands around Yoongi’s throat and squeezed.
Yoongi panicked again, trying desperately to pry Jae’s hands off, pushing at him but Jae only squeezed tighter, shaking him. He couldn’t breathe. Jae was screaming something else at him but Yoongi’s hearing had faded out on him.
His vision was fading too and the strength was leaving his limbs. He didn’t know how long it was before Jae was pulled off of him and he had no idea who had done it, still staring up at the ceiling.
He still couldn’t breathe, even though the hands were gone. The last thing he saw was Namjoon’s bloody face, leaning over him.
Namjoon was pretty sure he had never been more afraid in his life than he had been in the moment he had watched Yoongi’s eyes close. His throat was red from the hands that had been there before.
Security had shown up and were dragging the man who had taken Yoongi out of the room. He’d almost killed Yoongi and Namjoon was terrified that he still could have succeeded because Yoongi wasn’t breathing.
He noticed this through his own haze of dizziness and pain. He was pretty sure the asshole had broken his nose and the whole left side of his face hurt but he didn’t care about that. Yoongi wasn’t breathing.
Paramedics came into the room then, pulling him away from Yoongi out into the hall. Namjoon noticed the others there as well, staring at him with wide eyes but he just looked back at Yoongi, watching with horror as they tried to open up his airway.
The tears that fell hurt and he was ashamed of himself when he let one of the paramedics lead him away from the door because he didn’t want to watch whatever they would have to do. What if they couldn’t get him to breathe? What if he had damaged his throat badly?
He stumbled away from the paramedic, ignoring her for the moment, and practically fell into Jin.
“He’s not breathing,” he mumbled, aware that he shouldn’t. They froze, such fear on their faces as well.
Was it greater than when Yoongi had been kidnapped? He’d been pretty afraid then. He didn’t know and he was so dizzy. He sank down further, only Jin’s arms keeping him up, and he almost threw up when they brought Yoongi out on a backboard with a tube down his throat.
The fear and the pain got the best of him. He rested his head on Jin’s chest as darkness invaded.
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Namjoon’s hands were shaking. He’d woken up in the hospital and had been released pretty soon afterwards. He’d caught his reflection in the mirror briefly and had grimaced. His eyes were blackened, face bruised but he didn’t care a whole lot about that.
He knew the others were probably waiting too but he needed to find Yoongi, to find out if Yoongi was okay. He was the only person who would be able to find out, and the weight of that had settled on his shoulders.
They’d ask, if he went to them first. They’d ask how Yoongi was, and he needed to know. Yoongi had become his responsibility as soon as he’d agreed to sign those papers five years ago. He’d failed again, to protect.
That thought was playing on a loop in his head. Yoongi could have been taken again, could have died. The thought made him sick to his stomach.
The police had been there, asking him questions, delaying him more but finally, after what was probably hours, he was alone in a private hospital room with one single bed occupied by Yoongi. A doctor was there as well, and Namjoon took in what the man said as he stumbled over to Yoongi’s bed.
The information sunk in as Namjoon sunk down, bowing until his forehead was nearly touching Yoongi’s, tears forming. He brought one shaking hand to rest it in Yoongi’s hair, watching him.
“I’m so sorry,” he choked out, even though Yoongi couldn’t hear him. “I’m so, so sorry.”
It was hours that they waited. Hoseok and Jin bracketed the kids in the plastic chairs in the hospital, unable to really comfort because two of them were missing this time. They had all seen it. They had all seen Namjoon collapse against Jin, seen Yoongi being brought out, unconscious and not breathing.
It was one of the scariest moments of Hoseok’s life, to be honest. He’d had two of those in the last couple months. The first when Namjoon had told them Yoongi had been kidnapped. Why had it ended like this? Why had Big Hit insisted they do the event?
What were they going to do if Yoongi wasn’t okay?
The question played on loop in his head, no matter if he tried to banish the thought, tried to be positive. Yoongi hadn’t been breathing. Hoseok jumped to his feet when the door finally opened, the fingers on one hand still tangled with Jimin’s.
“Joonie,” he breathed, when he caught sight of the boy, letting go of Jimin to surge forward and embrace him. Namjoon’s face was bruised, his eyes blackened, nose swollen but it was such a relief, to see him, even if it looked like he’d been crying as well.
“Yoongi?” Jin asked, coming up to Namjoon’s other side.
Namjoon was crying when he responded. “He’s…He’s going to be alright.”
Hoseok’s knees nearly gave out in relief and he clung tighter to Namjoon in response.
It was the first thing he noticed when he woke. Pain. Awareness came through that and, for several moments, it was all he could focus on. His fingers flexed, squeezing what he thought was another hand in his.
“Yoongi.” A voice, soft and familiar and Yoongi blinked his eyes open, involuntary tears springing forth at the pain. He almost flinched at the sight of Namjoon leaning over him, his face a bruised mess.
“Hey, don’t. Don’t try to talk, okay?” Namjoon said, urgent, when he opened his mouth to do so. Yoongi swallowed, and the pain spiked again. That hurt and he squeezed Namjoon’s hand tighter, suddenly afraid.
“You’re throats pretty swollen right now,” Namjoon explained. “Doctors said not to talk until the swelling goes down.” Namjoon looked away from him, and tilted his head, and Yoongi caught the others crowding into the room.
A memory came back to him then, Jae looming over him with hands around his neck, and Yoongi tugged at Namjoon’s hand. “Jae?” He mouthed, and it wasn’t just that he shouldn’t, his voice was pretty much gone.
Namjoon smiled through tears. “Arrested,” he answered. “He paid Daehyun a lot of money to do what he did too, but they caught them both.”
Yoongi stared at him. That was it? It was really over? He pulled his hand from Namjoon’s and then put both to his face. It hurt his throat even more, but a sob still tore itself out of him.
“It’s really over,” Namjoon said, reading his thoughts and Yoongi sobbed harder, leaning into it when Namjoon embraced him.
The others crowded around the bed, taking up the same sort of positions they had the first time he’d been in the hospital, after he’d escaped. Yoongi reached for them like last time, the need to have them close still there.
They piled onto the bed with him, ignoring the loud protests from the nurse that came in a minute later.
Of course Big Hit was apologetic. Daehyun had taken a lot of money from Jae, enough that he’d been okay with leaving the company. He’d thought he would have time to get out before he was found out, after all Jae had planned on taking Yoongi and keeping him the second time.
It would take a while for Yoongi and Namjoon’s injuries to heal, and Namjoon had told them flat that they wouldn’t be speaking about a comeback until both were. Yoongi had been leaning against Namjoon in the hospital bed when they’d spoken and he’d smiled at the fierceness.
Fortunately, Big Hit weren’t exactly fighting them on it. The fan meet had ended in disaster, and they were embarrassed and chagrined that one of their own had been taking money from a kidnapper and stalker.
They had stayed with him in the hospital, Namjoon in particular refusing to leave his side and Yoongi was grateful, again, for it. There was still this need to hold onto them.
Yoongi went home with Jin and Namjoon. The others had already left, going back to the dorm to do something, he didn’t know what. Namjoon kept an arm secured around his shoulders the entire way back.
Yoongi had the impression that it wasn’t just because he still didn’t like being alone or not leaning into them, but that Namjoon needed it just as much as him. The only times Namjoon had let go of him since he’d woken up had been when he needed to use the bathroom.
When they got inside the dorm, and made it to the living room, he stopped short, staring. Hoseok and the kids had pushed the couch and recliner back against the wall, and it looked like they’d gotten the comforters and pillows from every one of their beds to make a huge pallet on the floor in front of the television.
“Hey, hyung!” Tae said brightly, bouncing a little bit. “What do you think?”
Hoseok grinned at him. “Tae and Kook thought we could have a movie night, all of us?”
The two youngest nodded, smiling. Yoongi ducked his head, unable to help his own smile. This was about him not wanting to be away from any of them, he knew. He blinked several times. He loved them so, so much. He didn’t deserve them.
“Thank you,” he said quietly, his voice little more than a hoarse whisper. He wasn’t supposed to be speaking yet, but he had to. “Thank you for taking care of me.” They all grinned and he pulled Namjoon down with him onto the pallet.
Only an hour into the first movie, he was sound asleep with his head on Namjoon’s chest. Hoseok was pressed close behind him, an arm slung around his waist with the rest of them surrounding them.