Yoongi one shot;;
At Fifteen
(WARNINGS: I haven't proof read this so it's probably really bad. Also, this could be extremely TRIGGERING and SAD so this is your warning)
You and Yoongi had always been close as brother and sister. At eleven, your parents died and Yoongi, at sixteen, made it his duty to care for you and help you grow up as normally as he could. He knew you had a stronger bond with your parents than he ever did so it would be even more difficult for you.
He liked to give you a lot of freedom in your life because that's what made you happiest and, after all, he is only your brother. He doesn't have as much control over you as your parents could've.
At thirteen, you started to get involved with the wrong people at school which turned into after school and weekends too. You began only showing your soft and innocent side to your brother and after half a year he started realising how sad you'd gotten.
"(Name), tell me what's wrong..."
"Everything. Everyone."
"Everyone?"
"Not you, but everyone else."
You started listing off people that you hated and Yoongi recognised them as the same names you used to admire and want to be like and be friends with. They were the people he thought you were friends with, but obviously not.
At fourteen, you got a boyfriend and you started coming home way passed dark, smelling like alcohol and not even walking straight. Yoongi felt like he'd failed. He felt like he hadn't given you the normal childhood you deserved. He felt like it all his fault. He tried warning you to stay away from your 'friends' before things got any worse but you refused with the excuse that you were just having a little fun.
Yoongi spent so long worrying about you and not concentrating that he lost his job. He tried his hardest but no one wanted to hire him in the overpopulated area you lived in where there were always people more qualified than him applying too.
He almost never heard from you anymore. You only briefly spoke to each other the early Thursday mornings where you would both bizarrely woke up from a nightmare at around 2am. That was his favourite part of the week and probably yours deep down too. It was when he saw the only part of the old you that was left.
He struggled to pay for food let alone anything else. It was nearing your birthday and he found himself saving up for a nice cake. Fifteen. You'd be fifteen years old and that just scared him more than anything else.
The last day of you being fourteen you spent out in an alley with your group and another group of guys are girls from another school. You all got together to celebrate your birthday but things turned bad quickly.
A small fight broke out near midnight, a fight that slowly engulfed the whole of both groups, except the ones that ran away. You were stuck in the corner at the dead end of the alleyway, unable to run off home to Yoongi and sob about the blood you saw. No one had dropped to the ground and begun bleeding out of anything, there were just some nosebleeds and flesh wounds. Well, that's how it was until you decided with your drunk logic to run across the fight to safety.
You felt something cold and sharp pierce through the skin of your bare stomach. The wound quickly felt warmer and warmer and you slowly looked down at your stomach where there was a broken bottle sticking half out of your waist. The guy yanked it straight out and ran away along with many others. As soon as people saw you drop to your knees, letting the blood flow onto the ground, they also began fleeing. All your 'friends' left you completely alone to die on the ground of a dirty and smelly alley.
At fifteen, you welcomed your birthday by lying in agony on the floor and staining the concrete below with blood. You were so late home that Yoongi had already been looking for you for an hour by midnight so you were lucky he found you a few minutes after the incident.
He felt as if it was him that had been stabbed as he turned the corner to see you cowered on your side, too weak to scream in pain so instead just making quiet sobs. You cling onto his arms and repeated his name over and over as he kneeled before you. He couldn't help but be angry at you. All he could think was that he had no family left and it was all your fault. Your fault for hanging out with the wrong people. But his fault for not stopping you.
He murmured that everything would be okay as he applied pressure to your injury with both hands to stop you bleeding out.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorr-y, oppa, I'm sorry. It h-hurts so much."
You began wailing louder but he tried to shush you, stroking your hair with his blood coated fingers. He face maintained a harsh and aggressively desperate expression. He informed he was about to lift you before doing so, attempting to carry you to the nearest hospital even though he couldn't remember how to escape the maze of tiny dead-ended streets that you were in the middle of.
"Yoongi."
You whispered, blood dripping from the corners of your mouth as you reached you hands up to touch his face.
"Please look at me."
You spluttered. He stopped desperately looking around for a way out and stared into your eyes.
"I'm so sorry."
Your eyes let out your last tear before slowly closing, your whole head becoming heavier as you laid it back. You'd accepted that you were about to die. There was nothing anyone could do now.
"You don't have to be sorry if you just stay with me, (name). Please. (Name)!"
He set you back on the ground, crying horrifically over your dying body while moving your face around.
"You can't die on me (name)! I love you! Please!"
He rested his head on your chest to check if you were still breathing. After he couldn't hear anything, he felt your wrist and found no pulse. He repeated 'no' through his tears and ran his hand frustratedly through his hair, smearing blood on his forehead and scalp as he rocked back and forth.
"You can't be gone! You're too young! This isn't fair, I'm so sorry I didn't help you! Please don't leave me! I never wanted this to happen, (name), please just wake up!"
He shouted at your corpse. He continued for at least an hour, cradling and talking to you even after you were gone. He finally managed to pick you up again and carry you back home.
He walked with you straight passed the kitchen where the birthday cake he saved for was presented. He reached your bedroom and laid you under the covers to your neck. He slowly rubbed your stone cold cheek with his hand before lifting the blanket over your face and carefully setting it down, all while quietly singing 'happy birthday' unenthusiastically.
He left you alone and went to grab the matches he planned to use for the candles on your cake. He now had a different use for it. He grabbed all your perfumes and both of your other flammable things and poured them over the ground and on his own bed sheets, spraying other things like deodorant in the air.
He sparked up a match and dropped it on the floor, watching the flames engulf his room as he sat emotionlessly on his bed.
"Happy birthday... to... you~"