Jungkook's P.O.V
They rushed Mr. Kim to the hospital. We sat in the waiting room, walls pale, faces blue, and the air, heavy— as if I was breathing in a smoky cloud of anxieties. Mrs. Kim was holding her sons' hands, sending a prayer. Taehyung shut his eyes to join his mother. Dohyun was staring at them with tears.
"Your father had gone through so much," I told the little boy while rubbing his back. "I'm sure that was nothing he can't handle."
Though my words sounded confident and reassuring, when talking, my jaw kept shaking uncontrollably. The memory of Mr. Kim laying helplessly on the floor, body in an awkward position and eyes shifting around almost mindlessly before focusing on the stranger comforting his horrified sons, insisted on staying within my head. His wife's screams of panic, the cries, the begging for help on the phone, and the frozen, close to lost look on Dohyun's face, were all the same. The terror, I feared, could haunt me forever.
Never in my life did I think I'd have to witness such scenes. Never in my life did I think I'd be there when it'd happen. I couldn't fathom it'd affect somebody I'd care about; it seemed impossible.
And Taehyung had the misfortune to have seen it all before, then watch it all anew.
"Mrs. Kim?"
Said woman let go of the two and jumped up. "Please... Please tell me my husband is okay..." she pleaded.
"You can calm down. Our doctor has examined the injuries, and thankfully, they were all minor," the nurse said. "It was a harsh fall yet with no significant damage."
The mother sighed in relief. "Oh, thank you, Lord! Thank you!"
One of her sons did not rush to share the joy. Taehyung rested an arm on my shoulder, his other hand playing with his chin. "Odd..." he mumbled. "Miss, may you please tell us what had happened?"
"Your father fell off of his wheelchair, sir."
"I'm aware, but how?" he asked.
"According to Mr. Kim, he was trying to get up again."
The family exchanged a few bewildered glances, struggling to process. At last, Mrs. Kim had addressed the elephant in the room. "According to him? He'd told you that?"
Her oldest son followed suit. "Again?" he repeated the nurse's words.
"We understand he was trying to train himself to move and speak as there's no money for professional therapy. Mr. Kim's been told to be more careful, and I advise he'd have somebody near him during future attempts," said the nurse.
"He can talk?!" Dohyun seemed to had just caught on.
"Barley and slowly. We waited a while for him to structure a sentence... Did you not know that?" she questioned. They shook their heads. "Well... Your father is recovering, and these are great news, are they not? You can visit him, the room is over there, and... Excuse me, I've got to go."
The family began walking towards the door the girl had pointed at, and I joined them, keeping near Taehyung. He was following the others, Doh hopping cheerfully and his mother calm, only his head lowered.
"Why didn't he tell us anything?" Taehyung asked quietly. "Even if it's hard for him to say it, a single move, anything, could be enough."
"I'm sure there's an explanation, Tae," I said. "Aren't you happy?"
"I've been longing to have a conversation with him for years, yet he gave me nothing more than a blank stare. Could he listen? Hear me? All this time, I had no clue."
"Then, aren't you happy?" I repeated. He gave me no answer.
We stepped into a white room, a bed with ugly-blue sheets in its corner, under which lay a middle-aged man. In a stiff motion, his head turned our direction.
Mrs. Kim threw herself on her husband, holding onto him tightly. "They said you were able to..." She kissed his forehead. "Please, just one word..."
He took his wife's hand with a weak, shaky grip, and his lips formed a smile. "Tha-thank you... You're be-best w-wife... Kind... Lo-loyal..."
She got up, covered her wet face, and ran out.
"Mom!" Taehyung called. I pushed him onto the chair next to his father's bed.
"Let her be," I told him. "This is very emotional for her."
Taehyung gazed at his disabled parent once more as Doh bounced on their dad's lap, enjoying the relieving resolution of what he feared was a deadly situation. For Taehyung, however, it didn't seem as simple.
"You were aware of everything, listening in, weren't you?" Taehyung's stare dropped to his feet. "That must have been heartbreaking now and then..." His dad gave him a small, slow nod. "They said you've been practicing. For how long?"
"T-two... m-mm-month..."
"Where's Mrs. Kim?" The young nurse busted through the door, cutting him off. Dohyun's eyes remained wide as he searched around, noticing, for the very first time, his mother was missing.
Taehyung stood up. "She's not here. I'm the oldest son, what is it?"
The girl led him to the other side of the room, and while pretending to watch Dohyun helping his father move fingers, I was catching every word uttered. During, Mr. Kim kept throwing me curious glances.
"We've rechecked your father's medical records. The doctors he went to in the past weren't even sure about his awareness level, and it changes things drastically," said the nurse.
"Is it a positive change?" Taehyung asked.
"He needs a different treatment, a less complex one. It's much cheaper. We can send him to care if your mother gives her consent." She handed him a document. "All the details are here: The cost, the procedures which will take place... She'll have to sign there..."
The nurse had gone, leaving Taehyung to look through the papers. His mouth was the thinnest I'd ever seen, and still, Dohyun and Mr. Kim didn't sense the tension in the air. That was until he'd snapped.
"WHY THE FUCK DID YOU KEEP IT A SECRET FORM MEDICAL PROFESSIONALS?!"
"Tae, calm down," I said.
"ARE YOU MAD?! WE THOUGHT WE'D FUCKING LOST YOU! WE THOUGHT WE'D NEVER GET TO SPEAK WITH YOU!" Taehyung yelled.
His dad began, "n-not y-your fau-fault... Minmin... upset..."
"HOW COULD YOU PLAY PRETEND WHILE WE WERE ALL BUSTING OUR ASSES?!"
"Taehyung!" Dohyun called. "Shut up!"
In an instant, he quieted down. That was my sign to leave. "I shouldn't be here, I want to respect Mr. Kim, and I doubt a stranger's involvement would make him comfortable," I told Taehyung, bowed, and began making my way out.
He grabbed my arm. "You're staying. I don't care," he said. "You're not a stranger."
"Idiot!" the youngest continued, "Father's been trying to tell you why. By the time his speech was back, Mom was already angry with you and wouldn't let him nearby in case he'd learn the reasons. She was suspecting him as he was getting better, but he had to know what was going on, so he pretended there was no progress."
"There's no way he'd just explained all of that."
"A part of it, he did, and I can read minds. Also, he wants to know who Jungkook is," the boy added. "On top of what that beautiful lady had told you, of course."
Taehyung examined me from head to toe, then shook his head. "Not now. The lady showed we might have enough money to send him help, and I need us to do that as fast as possible," he said. "I'll go find Mom. Jungkook, you're coming with me, and Doh, you keep your mouth shut."
The colorless corridors felt so foreign despite how frequently I'd visited them during childhood. As Taehyung and I were stepping through, the scenery triggered more and more memories.
The smell reminded me of how I'd had my wounds treated there when a bully decided to call his day a bad one. The sounds of the rushing staff resembled the panic I'd sensed when kids were chasing me at school. The sight of the patients' loved ones waiting with expressions full of fear, was identical to mine and Robert's families' after his suicide attempt.
"Taehyung?" We continued wandering around the hospital, and he was wearing the same pout since we'd gone out to the hallways. "Talk to me." My lover remained silent. I could feel something was off. "Talk to me. Now."
"Dad understood we were shunning him away from our hardships," he finally began. "We, too, hid secrets from him. Of course, he'd rather pretend he can't listen. He always insisted on keeping up with our lives, trashing his brain with ways to ease them..."
I pat his back. "Your father sounds like a kind parent."
"He is, and always has been. Mom took into account he could have improved when his checkups showed his brain activity wasn't decreasing, and..." Taehyung sighed. "She proved him right."
"Why are you this sad? You just got your father back, dummy," I said and pulled him into a hug. "No matter what she did, I'm confident your mother had your best interests in heart."
Wrapping his arms around me, Taehyung rested in the crook of my neck. "Ironically, the whole family revolved around him, and we still didn't allow him to be a part of it... He'll also find out about us sooner or later, and I'm afraid he'd regret ever wondering about the truth in the first place," I heard him.
"Bullshit. That's bullshit."
"It's not," he said. "He'll—"
"He won't find out because you're going to tell him."
Taehyung pushed me away. "That's insane! I'm not going to!"
"You've told your mother," I said.
"And almost became homeless! Besides, she'd kill me."
"Mr. Kim is in no shape for gossip," I reminded, "she'd never know, and from what I've seen and heard, she's nothing like him."
"No. You're right," he mumbled. "They are different, and he made her happy. He brought light to her life and then to our home..." Taehyung looked down. "Thank you, Jungkook..." he whispered, wiping away the single tear rolling down his cheek. "I've finally realized, I'm happy he's back... I'll tell him, I will, I promise. With time."
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