To What Was Ours

ii (yoongi)

Yoongi really shouldn't have been all that surprised when he sat up so fast he nearly somersaulted off his bed, stumbled into the living room, and found all of his members already gathered in various states of distress.

But he was. His mind ran overtime for an answer, a logical answer that would soothe them all and allow them to drift back off into a peaceful, uninterrupted, sleep; yet there was nothing. They looked up to him with wide, fearful, eyes, hoping he could provide stability, wondering what he had to say if he was going to speak. A wave of terrible deja vu hit him with such force he could do nothing but lower himself onto the floor, praying he had no news to deliver.

The confusion from earlier faded. He knew exactly what they meant when he left when he banged and begged against a glass mirror that would not shatter no matter how much force he applied. The strain on his heart remained ever consistent.

No one was crying, like before, and though they were upset, confusion lined their features more prominently. Almost curiosity in Namjoon's eyes, as he ran a shaky hand through his sleep tousled hair. Yoongi glanced to Hoseok's phone, on the coffee table and lit with a notification, and saw two hours had passed since he had first awoken. Soon, the sun would rise. If their next discussion went right, Jungkook's fearful voice would fade when morning came, along with every question they could possibly ask.

"What the hell is going on?" Namjoon rasped, clawing the fabric of the couch.

"Are we all drugged, or something?" Seokjin, standing and shifting his weight from foot to foot, felt his forehead for fever whilst speaking. "Did someone slip something into our drinks?"

It was a genuine concern. None had ever luckily experienced such an attack, but the threat still loomed. Jimin checked his heart, pulse, head, unsure where the symptoms would lie. "I don't know. I feel - fine, for everything that's happened. I've felt fine all day. That felt too real, though. I obviously don't know anything but I'd think that a drugged dream would be a lot more surreal."

Yoongi didn't know a lot about drugs. However, he was leaning towards one hundred percent positive that no pill or powder existed that caused their specific, coordinated, entirely mind-breaking symptoms. At least without any other indications. Nonetheless, if anyone with enough bottled anger to pursue the action was able to get close enough to succeed, he figured that they would aim for something more dangerous, possibly life-threatening, instead of disrupting a good night's sleep.

Hoseok shook his head, quick to deny. "That felt real. There's no way that wasn't."

"How would it be? We were dreaming. You can't go anywhere when you're dreaming." Despite the bite in his voice, Namjoon's eyes flickered back and forth between them all, unsure. "We're all still here, in the dorm."

Taehyung, soaking up the leader's body warmth, nudged his shoulder with his own. Namjoon avoided becoming trapped in a pair of professional-grade puppy eyes. "Yeah, but - but how do you explain this? Have you read a book on this or something?"

Yoongi decided it was his time to speak before everyone went off in different directions. Obviously, because they had started in the exact same room, then they needed to begin from the exact same position. Compasses were only useful if you knew which way you needed to go. Together was the only pathway.

And he had no news to deliver, he reminded himself. He hadn't ran, hadn't gotten thirsty, and hadn't checked his phone. This was no time for reliving trauma.

He pushed himself to his feet, hands out in placating a position, and ignored the rush of a rainy breeze his mind falsified. "Okay, everyone, okay. Take a breath." First guaranteeing he had the whole group's attention, he maintained a calm tone of voice. "Did everyone reach the end?"