Kim Taehyung has been wandering aimlessly for decades, waiting for the day when the last bit of his humanity leaves him, and the monster inside him takes permanent control. He doesn't believe in fated mates, or the myth that there's a soul out there...
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⋆♱✮☽🦇☽✮♰⋆
Life was like a circle.
Fourteen years ago, when an eight-year-old Jungkook was woken up by his mom in the middle of the night, she whispered, "Your dad was hurt. Get ready we need to go to the hospital."
The little boy's mind went blank. All he knew was that his dad was going to come back home today and bring with him all the gifts he and Jimin had insisted on but instead of the presents, he got a surprise. They were now running towards the hospital in vain for the man who had been announced dead on the spot of the plane crash.
Fourteen years later, he was again woken up in the middle of the night, not by his mother but Taehyung this time and the news had been no different. Jimin was hurt.
Taehyung hadn't pushed Jungkook for a reaction. He'd let him stay silent, and Jungkook was grateful for that. He hadn't realized how deeply entrenched the trauma of that night was until he'd felt it being repeated. Hadn't known how to process the fear Taehyung's whispered words had evoked.
Walking into Jimin's hospital room now, Jungkook only realized how truly numb he'd been since hearing the news of the attack when a painful mix of guilt and relief washed over him at the sight of his brother.
Jimin would be okay.
His brother had already been moved out of the ER and was lying in a hospital bed with his splinted right arm resting on a stack of pillows. He was free from any obvious cuts or bruises—Yoongi's work, Taehyung had told him—and the only clear injury was the broken arm.
His eyes looked vacant though, and his body was trembling slightly, almost imperceptibly. Even when he finally noted Jungkook's presence, almost a full minute after Jungkook had stepped into the room, the vacant look didn't leave his eyes. As if Jungkook wasn't really there.
"Jimin?" Jungkook kept his voice soft. Jimin's eyes slowly focused from their empty stare and finally settled on Jungkook properly.
"Jungkook." Jimin's voice was hoarse.
"How. . .How are you feeling?"
His brother gave a slow shrug with the shoulder of his uninjured arm. "After all the medicines they gave me, I think I'm fine."
"That's good," Jungkook said relieved. "I'm glad—I'm glad you're okay. Are they going to keep you here overnight?"
"It was an open fracture. They need to do surgery. I had eaten before—before all this happened, so they're waiting a few more hours."
An open fracture, meaning the skin had been broken, the bone having torn through it. Seokjin must have snapped Jimin's arm violently. Jungkook's stomach churned at the thought.
