"Is this the guardian for Mr. Jeon? I'm sorry to tell you there's been an accident."
✩★✩
The moment seemed to unfurl like a haunting melody played on a broken piano, its melancholic notes reverberating through the hospital's white walls.
The atmosphere was perpetually shrouded in a gloom that seeped into Taehyung's bones, leaving him feeling as though he were trapped in a sepia-toned world devoid of vibrancy. The colors of his life were muted, like a faded painting that had lost its luster over time. The once-bright tapestry of youthful innocence was tarnished, replaced by a palette of gray, symbolizing the absence of warmth, laughter, and unconditional love.
His heart felt like a fractured prism, fragmented and starved of the kaleidoscope of emotions that should have colored his formative years. He felt like a wilted flower, yearning for sunlight amidst the frigid depths of winter.
If this was any other situation, his hyungs would have called him dramatic, that he was simply having an overreaction. But it wasn't a normal situation, it felt as though he was submerged in a frigid winter, where icicles dangled from branches, coating leaves, and swaying grass, stopping all sources of movement. The type where the glass beneath your fingertips is chilled to the bone, colder than ice, sending a shiver down your spine and a shard of ice into your heart.
And why shouldn't it feel that way, when the sun of their universe had set, but this time for forever? When their sky and earth had vanished never to be touched by the sands of time again?
Taehyung finally let himself think of the earth-shattering thought that hung above his head like one of those pianos in cartoons. It was a painful thought, one that shredded his heart into multiple pieces of cloth.
Jungkook was dead.
✩★✩
Jungkook often stood at the intersection of his past and present, all of them knew this.
Their maknae often stood at the crossroad of his young life, the weight of a lifetime's worth of disappointment pressing upon his small shoulders.
Whenever he thought about Jungkook's family, his thoughts painted a vivid picture of a fractured family, where love was but a distant whisper carried away by the winds of neglect. The shadows of his childhood loomed large, casting an ominous veil over his relationship with his parents, though none of them had tried to pry.
Jungkook talks about it sometimes, and whenever he does, it feels as if all the warmth that they had sustained had been discarded to make room for the bitter frost that leaves their fingertips numb no matter how much they blew on them.
Jungkook had told them how most of the time the silence in his old home was suffocating, how the air had always hung heavy with unspoken words, stifled emotions that dared not be expressed. He had told them, about how most of their interactions were mere transactions, devoid of warmth or connection, their gazes constantly passing over each other as if in search of something they could never quite find.
The one thing that had stayed with them forever, haunting their hearts till this day and probably would till the end of time, was the small confession that Jungkook had made during one of their soulful moping sessions, was how Jungkook had said that the perfect way to avoid conflict was to play dead, stay silent and wait for the bear to stop playing with you.
It had been something that gnawed on their minds till this very day, and they had promised Jungkook, that he'd never have to act that way with them. But they had broken that promise, and it was only now when Taehyung looked back at it all, that he saw how Jungkook's behavior fit with it all, play dead and wait for the final blow.
But he had never thought, never in a million years, that Jungkook's playing dead would turn into Jungkook actually being dead.
It was weird, honestly, how, he seemed to remember everything with painful accuracy and yet, everything felt blurred at the same time. He could remember the panic that had surged their veins like an electric shock at the news, their hearts pounding in unison like a macabre symphony of fear and sorrow.
Jin's hands trembled as he tried to dial Jungkook's number, his eyes pleading with the universe for some kind of miracle. But the phone rang endlessly, echoing the void in their hearts. Taehyung's eyes glistened with tears as he snatched Jin's phone, muttering desperate apologies under his breath for the cruel words they had spoken to Jungkook earlier that day.
The hospital corridors buzzed with tense energy, like a hive of restless bees. Time seemed to slow down, stretching each passing moment into an agonizing eternity. The hyungs' footsteps echoed against the sterile walls, their hearts pounding in sync with the rapid beeping of machines, a dissonant symphony of anxiety and dread.
As they approached the hospital room, the scent of antiseptic assaulted their senses, mingling with the heaviness of despair. The door creaked open, revealing a somber scene bathed in the harsh glow of fluorescent lights. The air in the room hung thick with unspoken apologies, their words stifled by the weight of guilt.
The hospital staff were painfully gentle as they let them to the body, Jungkook's body, covered by a white sheet.
He had felt as though a lightning bolt had hit him when he had seen the 'morgue' written in bold letters above the door. It wasn't a room he had ever expected to be in. Hadn't even thought of it in his worst nightmare, and yet, here he was.
And there, on the cold hospital bed, lay a figure wrapped in white sheets, a haunting stillness engulfing the room. It felt as if time itself had frozen, leaving them suspended in a moment of devastating truth. The room felt too small, too suffocating, as they gathered around, their breaths shallow and hearts shattered.
Taehyung's hands trembled as he reached out, fingers trembling with a mix of trepidation and longing, hesitating to peel back the layers that concealed the face they all knew so well. Each member seemed to share a silent plea, silently praying for a miracle that seemed as elusive as grasping stardust in the palm of their hands.
"It could be someone else," Namjoon whispered, grasping at any sliver of hope.
With trembling hands, Taehyung lifted the edge of the sheet, revealing an arm adorned with familiar tattoos. Jimin's breath hitched, and he choked back a sob, while Yoongi's eyes squeezed shut, unwilling to see the undeniable truth.
Taehyung understood him, he didn't want to see Jungkook their beloved maknae, lifeless either. He didn't want to see his young face frozen in an eternal slumber, a mocking parody of Sleeping Beauty, he carefully tucked the arm under the white sheet. He didn't need to see anything else, and he doubted the other members wanted to, either.
The thought seemed to crash into him like a whirlwind, desperate to shatter him. Jungkook, his baby, his bunny, his dongsaeng, his only dongsaeng, the one who shared food with Taehyung without batting an eye, the one who cuddled up to him like a baby koala, the one he had kissed so many times, the one he had sworn to protect, was gone.
How could he be gone? Taehyung still had so much to teach him, and so many places to take him, he still had to apologize for today, and any other time he might have broken Jungkook's heart. This couldn't be the end it couldn't.
"It's okay, Taehyung," Hoseok gently unraveled the fist that he had made. It would've been reassuring if Hobi didn't sound to be on the brink of tears, himself. "It's going to be okay."
"No," Taehyung shook his head burrowing himself in Hoseok's chest. "It's not going to be okay, it's never gonna be okay. He's gone, hyung." It felt like revealing an ugly secret like it would shatter the world if even one syllable was spoken. But it was true, wasn't it?
They were never gonna be okay, and the only one who could make them feel okay was gone.
✩★✩
The room was cloaked in heavy silence, punctuated only by the faint sound of their cries and racing heartbeats. Grief consumed them, dragging them down into a whirlpool of despair.
The room stood as a bleak chamber of sorrow, its walls closing in around him like a vise. The floor beneath him felt frigid, an icy reflection of the desolation that gripped his heart.
Taehyung's body felt heavy as if anchored to the ground by the weight of his remorse. He didn't dare look up, his gaze fixated on the bleak expanse before him. Darkness engulfed his vision, mirroring the despair that consumed his soul, casting long shadows that danced mockingly across the room.
He had never known pain so profound, so all-encompassing, that it threatened to swallow him whole. The ache in his chest radiated with a burning intensity, a relentless reminder of the fact that Jungkook was gone and that he was never coming back. The thought of facing an eternity without his presence, without seeing that bunnny smile, sent shivers down Taehyung's spine.
Jungkook was an ethereal being (had been, had been, had been, he's not there anymore), a celestial being draped in an aura of unblemished purity (had been, had been, had been, he won't come back). Taehyung's heart twisted with an overwhelming mixture of reverence and self-condemnation. Taehyung had been lucky, that with all his flaws and shortcomings, he had been able to stand in the presence of divine grace.
The thought of his own damnation loomed like a specter, a haunting presence that whispered wicked taunts into the recesses of his mind. Each breath he took felt like a pact with the devil himself, a damning admission of guilt for the pain he had inflicted upon the one he cherished most. The flames of self-loathing licked at his consciousness, scorching his spirit with searing regret.
He yearned for a reprieve, a chance to gaze upon Jungkook's smile once more, even if it meant facing eternal damnation. The torment of separation was a fire that consumed him from within, leaving him hollow, a mere shell of his former self. Death seemed a tempting escape, a desperate plea to bridge the divide between their souls, even if it meant surrendering his own.
He didn't realize what he was doing until the ghostly glow of the phone hit his eyes. His trembling fingers hovered over his phone, the device a lifeline connecting him to a glimmer of hope. With a mix of desperation and resignation, he pressed the familiar digits of Jungkook's number, his thumb tapping against the screen like a dancer's swift pirouette. He was desperate for one final connection, one last flicker of life.
As the phone rang, Taehyung's breath hitched in his throat, anticipation and anxiety warring within him. Each passing second felt like an eternity, stretching time itself into a taut thread ready to snap. The other members held their breath, mirroring Taehyung's own unsteady inhalations.
And then, a click, a connection made across the vast expanse of cellular signals and invisible waves. Taehyung's heart lurched in his chest, his hand clenching the phone as he brought it closer to his ear. He braced himself for the sound of Jungkooks voice telling him to leave a message, he just wanted to hear his voice, the voice that had brought solace and laughter to countless moments.
But what he expected was not what he heard. It was not the clipped tone of Jungkook's voice, telling him that 'he would get back to you later' and to 'please leave a meassage' or 'text me if it's urgent.' Instead, it was the unmistakable warmth of Jungkook's voice, the same voice that let out a shaky 'hello.'
The room around Taehyung blurred into a hazy backdrop as his focus narrowed solely on the sound emanating from the phone. It was a symphony of emotions—shock, joy, and a torrent of unspoken words caught in his throat. His grip on the phone tightened, knuckles turning white as he struggled to comprehend the impossible reality unfolding before him.
Jungkook's voice, tinged with a mix of confusion and concern, cut through the static of Taehyung's stunned silence. It was a lifeline thrown to a drowning man, a lifeline that Taehyung grasped with fervent desperation. The words spilled from his lips in a torrent, a mixture of relief, gratitude, and a fervent need to understand what had just transpired.
"Jungkook?" Taehyung's voice was barely a whisper, disbelief mingled with hope.
"Yeah, hey, Tae. Where are you guys? I came home and the house was empty. Things looked knocked over. I tried calling Jin-hyung, seeing as he had left a missed call, but he didn't pick up. Is he okay? Are you guys okay? Is everything okay?" Yeah, that was Jungkook's voice alright, Jungkook's living, breathing, soft voice.
A choked laugh escaped Taehyung's lips, tears streaming down his face. "Yeah, yeah, Jungkook, we're okay, but are you okay?"
"Uh, yeah," his maknae sounded super confused. "Of course, I'm okay, why wouldn't I be?"
"Oh, thank god you're okay, Kookie. We thought—"
But Taehyung's words were cut off by the sound of sobs and laughter mixed together, as all six hyungs huddled together, clinging to each other like a lifeline. Jungkook was okay, and that's all that mattered at the moment.
"We'll be right home, okay, Jungkookie?"
"Uh, okay."
There was only one job left to do, spoil their maknae.
✩★✩
When they got home, breaking multiple traffic rules and nearly crashing along the way, Jungkook was sitting on the kitchen counter which was filled with packages.
The atmosphere in the room crackled with a whirlwind of emotions, each member of the group carrying the weight of their own guilt and remorse. Taehyung's gaze remained fixed on Jungkook, searching every inch of his being for any sign of harm. His eyes danced across the contours of Jungkook's face, his worry etched deeply into every line.
The silence hung heavy in the air, suffocating in its intensity. They stood together, a tableau of fractured souls, grappling with the realization of their own cruelty. The memory of tearful confessions in the car ride to the hospital and mumbled apologies resurfaced, haunting his conscience. It was a bitter reminder of the pain they had inflicted upon Jungkook, a pain they now desperately longed to ease.
The desire to shield Jungkook from further harm surged within Taehyung, an instinctual need to cocoon him within the sanctuary of his own ribcage. The thought of protecting him from the world, from their own harsh words, tugged at Taehyung's heartstrings.
Jungkook's gaze flitted among them, his button nose scrunching in a mix of confusion, hesitation, and an enigmatic emotion Taehyung couldn't quite decipher. Before anyone could find the words to express their jumbled emotions, Jungkook abruptly thrust gift boxes into their arms, a sudden flurry of motion that disrupted the tense stillness.
The brand names emblazoned on the packages—Dior, Chanel, and others—caught Taehyung's attention, but he quickly pushed aside those thoughts, choosing instead to focus on the young man before him.
Taehyung's mind went momentarily static as he peered into the box Jungkook had pressed into his hands. His breath caught in his throat as his eyes landed on the exquisite Chanel jacket nestled within. The realization washed over him like a crashing wave, a flood of understanding that pierced through the fog of shared sorrow.
Confusion clouded their expressions, and questions lingered unspoken in the air. Namjoon frowned, clutching a bottle of Dior cologne, while Hoseok trembled as he held a delicate Cartier bangle. Taehyung's voice trembled as he dared to ask the question that hung heavy in the room, "Jungkook, what is all this?"
Jungkook's perplexed gaze met theirs, his confusion mirroring their own. His response was sincere as if he truly believed he was the one at fault. "It's an apology gift for all of you, hyungs. If you don't like it, I'm sorry, I just... I didn't know any other way to apologize."
Taehyung was right. He wishes he wasn't.
A choked sob punctuated the tension, drawing their attention to Jimin, whose tear-streaked face contorted with a mixture of fury and despair. The plaid-patterned cashmere scarf he clenched in his fist carried a weight that surpassed its physical presence. The rage in Jimin's expression multiplied, his anguish threatening to overflow.
"Oh," Jungkook's gasp of realization filled the room, his eyes widening, and Taehyung thought that he had finally understood, but then: "Sorry, did I get the wrong scarf?" he breathed, his horror palpable. "I can get you the right one, please don't be upset..."
Jimin's cheeks flushed with anger, his frustration mounting. "You're not supposed to be buying us things, you adorable idiot!" he exclaimed, his voice teetering on the edge of desperation. "It's not about the scarf, Jungkook. Fuck the scarf!"
Jungkook's tears flowed freely now, his expression crumpling in a way that tore at Taehyung's heart. The weight of his self-perceived failures crushed him, and Taehyung instinctively moved closer, attempting to gently wipe away the tears that cascaded down Jungkook's cheeks.
"I was so sure that it was the right one," Jungkook whimpered, his voice laced with anguish. "I can't do anything right..."
Namjoon's voice cut through the turmoil, his eyes red-rimmed and filled with solemnity. "No, Jungkook, Jungkookie, Kookie, it's us who should be apologizing. You didn't do anything wrong, baby."
"But..." Jungkook's protest hovered on the tip of his tongue, and Taehyung has never hated his maknae's stubbornness more. But before Jungkook could utter another word, Yoongi spoke up.
"We thought you were dead," Yoongi's words reverberated through the room, heavy with the weight of their shared anguish. The truth hung in the air, seeping into their consciousness like a cruel awakening.
Jungkook's eyes widened in disbelief, his voice barely a whisper. "Dead? Why on earth would you think that I was dead?"
Jimin's voice cracked with emotion, his words choked and fragmented. "We received a call about a Jeon in a car accident, and we rushed to the hospital, to the morgue... We thought...we believed... we thought we lost you."
A shiver of realization seemed to run through Jungkook, through a realization of what, Taehyung didn't know. When Jungkook spoke again, his composure was eerily calm. "You thought I was dead," his voice holding a mix of resignation and disbelief.
Each member nodded solemnly, their eyes glistening with unshed tears. Taehyung, finding his voice, spoke up, the words laden with the weight of their collective sorrow. "Do you know how we felt when we thought you were gone? We were heartbroken, Jungkookie, plain and simple. Shattered. And what hurt, even more, was the thought that you might have left this world believing we hated you."
There was silence for a moment, and then another, and then there was a sob. Jimin seemed to have lost hold of his tears. He ran up to Jungkook and held him tightly, Jungkook still wasn't saying anything he just looked at Jimin blankly.
"I'm sorry for yelling at you," Jimin said, his small hands cupping Jungkook's cheeks. "You didn't deserve that. Next time you want something from my closet you just take it okay? If I do something like that again, feel free to punch me."
"Jimin..." Jungkook started, only to get cut off again.
"Same with me," Taehyung said, surprised by the firmness in his own voice. "If something like that ever happens, ignore me for a week, change the wifi password, tear one of my shirts, and yell at me, you didn't deserve that."
"Taehyung..." Jungkook said, his voice a mere whisper.
"Same with me," Hoseok said, his voice thick with emotion.
"I'll kill myself before I hurt you again," Jin said, his eye streaming with tears.
"I'm sorry for what I said baby," Yoongi walked towards Jungkook and ran a hand through his hair. "I want you to know that we want you here, I want you here, and that you deserve the entire solar system, and I'm sorry you got less. We'd be crazy without you, and I want you to know that we're gonna make it up to you."
"You don't have to do that..." Jungkook started, only to get cut off.
"No, we do, You, Jeon Jungkook are the entire reason we work. Do you really think any of us could function without your kisses or hugs? You're the literal glue keeping us together, sweetheart, never doubt your worth. You deserve the title of the golden maknae because you are brilliant, you're talented, smart, funny, adorable, and unashamedly yourself. You left home at such an early age and you braved it, and we are so proud of you. You're a living miracle."
"That he is," Taehyung said fondly. "He's literally the only one that can wake you up when you sleep without getting smacked."
"I'm not that bad," Yoongi grumbled, sending Taehyung a look.
"You're right," Jimin said, nodding his head solemnly. "You're worse."
"Traitors," Yoongi murmured, sending a glare at the other members who were snickering. He then turned back to Jungkook, his expression full of love. "We're so sorry, Jungkookie, we love you."
That seemed to be the breaking point for Jungkook and he burst into tears, for what (thanks to them) would probably be the umpteenth time today, but now, he would be safe in his arms.
✩★✩
The soft glow of dimmed lamplight embraced the room, casting gentle shadows upon their faces as they huddled together on Namjoon's bed. They had a silent fight on who would sleep next to their maknae, and Jimin and Taehyung teamed up and won, and now they lay arms protectively curled around him. The air was thick with a mixture of relief, regret, and tender love. Jungkook felt the comforting embrace of sleep beckon to him, but before he could fall asleep, he asked the question that niggled at the back of his mind.
"What about the gifts?" He wasn't sure what they would do with them, his eyes searching each of their faces for an answer.
A chorus of soft laughter filled the room, and Jungkook looked around in bewilderment. "What?"
Namjoon's gaze met his, warm and understanding. "You can have all of them," he replied without hesitation, a gentle smile gracing his lips.
Confusion furrowed Jungkook's brow, his mind struggling to grasp the meaning behind Namjoon's words. "But they're for you," he protested, his voice tinged with genuine confusion.
"And now, we give them to you," Hoseok chimed in, his dimples creasing his cheeks.
Jungkook's lips parted in disbelief, his eyes widening. "But... there's like 59 of them! I can't possibly accept that much."
Taehyung chuckled, playfully ruffling Jungkook's hair. "You're right; you can't have just 59. We'll get you 47 more," he said with a mischievous grin, causing Jungkook to let out a surprised laugh.
Yoongi joined in, his gummy smile lighting up his face. "Nah, forty-seven isn't enough, we'll buy the entire store for you," he added, looking fond.
Jungkook's eyes widened in mock disbelief. "The entire store? Seriously, Hyung?"
Jin nodded, a fond smile curving his lips. "Absolutely. We want to make sure you have everything you could ever want or need."
Hoseok chimed in, his eyes sparkling with joy. "And once we're done with that, we'll take you to that restaurant you always rave about."
"Hyung," he murmured, a mixture of fondness and exasperation lacing his voice.
"Yes?" Came the chorus of innocent replies.
Jungkook let out an amused sigh, realizing he was thoroughly outmatched by their stubbornness. "You guys are impossible," he said, his heart swelling with warmth.
Taehyung leaned in, his voice soft and tender. "We love you, Jungkookie. We're sorry for being so harsh today. We never want you to doubt how much you mean to us."
Jungkook's eyes softened, tears shimmering on his lashes. "I love you all too," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "And I'm sorry for making you worry."
Jimin pulled him into a tight hug, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "No more apologies, okay? Besides ours, of course."
And so, beneath the gentle moonlight that filtered through the curtains, he couldn't help but think, that yeah, time did heal all wounds.
◇──◆──◇──◆
[author's note]
This wasn't supposed to take so long, and I'm not really happy with this ending, but my mind refuses to work so, I'll publish this and maybe I'll edit it later. I had multiple endings planned, but then I read 'It's Been Too Long' by SSears90 on Wattpad, and now, we're here.
Hopefully, this didn't turn out too terrible.