lovestrippedbare | 𝕣𝕦𝕓𝕒𝕥𝕠

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yoongi

𝕣𝕦𝕓𝕒𝕥𝕠

It takes a day before Jungkook works up the courage to ask Heejin for help. They meet up for breakfast, Jungkook wheeling out of his room before his mother can arrive in the morning, doing his best to keep up with Heejin as she rolls her IV drip along. The chair isn't high enough for him to see everything, but Heejin carefully reads out every dish on offer, adding her own commentary about the freshness of the ingredients, the spiciness of the jjigae. Jungkook returns the favor by balancing both of their trays on his lap as they make their way back to the table.

She's polishing off a cup of pudding when Jungkook asks if she has a phone, his words quiet and jumbled.

He's barely finished his sentence when she reaches into her pocket and pulls her phone out, almost shoves it under his nose with a smile.

"Just return it to me when you're done."

Jungkook doesn't pull the phone out from under his pillow until the sun's long since set and his mother's left for the day. A nurse comes around to turn off the light in his room, murmurs soft encouragement for him to sleep soon, leaves before he even has a chance to nod in her direction. He tries to turn onto his side, winces when his muscles protest, and sighs as he sinks back against the pillows, shoulders flat against the mattress.

Heejin's home screen is cluttered with countless apps, but Jungkook pulls up the text messages, worrying at his lower lip as he types in Yoongi's number.

It's June 8th. Over two weeks since Yoongi heard from him last.

Is he still checking his phone?

The sensation of heat trickling down his cheek jolts Jungkook back to attention, pulling a sharp intake of breath between his teeth. He rubs stubbornly at his cheek with the heel of a palm before he wraps both hands around Heejin's phone, tapping a quick message. Hitting send before he has the time to overthink.

yoongi-ah
it's me

i'm sorry, Jungkook types, before he quickly hits backspace.

i love you.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Yoongi would like to say he's lost track of time. That the days have begun to blur into each other, miserable in a vague, shapeless way. It isn't true. The pain is bright and fresh and constant. Even if he weren't making an effort to stay, if not sober, at least not drunk enough to do anything rash, Kyung-Soon has started badgering him about the drinking and the smoking both so that he couldn't get away with it around her anyway. She turns up her nose in irritation whenever he pulls out a cigarette, reminds him that, even if he wants to ruin his own lungs, she needs hers and her voice, so he'd better stop it at least around her.

So he's got nothing to do with his hands and not enough to dull the edges, and he drags himself through each day, exhausted because he can't sleep for thinking.

Stretched out on the couch, he glances over when his phone buzzes. He keeps forgetting to charge it and it's attached to its cord now, battery climbing slowly. He doesn't recognize the number on the screen, doesn't know who would be texting him that isn't already in his phone, and he's ready to roll over and ignore it when the next message blossoms onto the screen.

He nearly falls off the couch, scrambling to reach the phone, and there his hands go, shaking again, because he doesn't know how to respond, doesn't know what to do with his heart in his throat or the sudden, unrestrained way he can feel himself smiling for the first time in weeks. It's like some gut instinct understands long before his mind is willing to accept the truth of the situation. But who else could it be? Jin might call him Yoongi-ah, but what cause would he have to say the rest? It has to be —

is this real, he writes back, and he doesn't realize until he does how much he's already hitched his hopes to the possibility Jungkook is on the other end of these messages, because the idea that it isn't breaks his heart again, tears hot in his eyes. how do i know who this is?

He hesitates, a sob catching in his throat. He'd thought he'd lost him, he'd thought he'd been abandoned, even if not deliberately, and, no matter how bad it hurt before, he's not sure he'd let himself acknowledge the full weight of that yet. It comes crashing down on him now. i love you i love you

His vision starts to blur as soon as the phone lights up with a reply, Jungkook's breath hitching as he rubs further at the corners of his eyes. He hadn't expected a reply to come so quickly — no, he wasn't even sure if he was expecting a reply at all, considering how long he's been gone without a single word, subjecting Yoongi to the same pain that Jungkook had experienced years ago, if not worse. Maybe Jungkook shouldn't blame himself for it, but it's so easy to, always a simple task to look back on every step he'd taken and think of what might have been had he changed just a couple of decisions. If he hadn't run off in anger that evening, if he hadn't felt that immediate need to curl into himself and cry.

If he'd only gone home together with Yoongi.

we still haven't finished schubert

Jungkook pulls in a breath, trying to calm himself down. It feels like he can't get enough air; his ribcage lights up with a sharp pain whenever he tries, and he wants desperately to switch to the call button, needs to hear Yoongi's voice. But there's too much hospital staff still around, and Jungkook isn't sure if they'll confiscate the phone if they catch him with it.

min-ah

His fingers feel stiff.

i'm so sorry
i love you
i didn't mean to disappear
i don't have my phone, i'm borrowing this one

Pausing then, Jungkook's fingers hover a couple of centimeters from the surface, his eyes roaming over his surroundings, not sure how to explain everything that's happened. Not sure if it'd be too much for Yoongi to bear — but perhaps it's better than knowing nothing, as Yoongi does now.

He can't breathe. His breath keeps catching on tears and Yoongi hates it. He has to close his eyes and will himself to slow down, inhale deeper, exhale slower. He hasn't been abandoned. He isn't alone. Whatever happened, wherever he is, Jungkook still loves him. It's not like Yoongi didn't know that, couldn't have doubted that love, not anymore, but it's been hard to hold onto. As much as this has been torture, it's felt deserved, too, like the universe punishing him for his choices. And now he knows that, on some level, it was a test he failed. Not strong enough to keep hoping. Not strong enough to keep looking. All he did was crumple to dust, back to that boy who barely hangs on from one day to the next.

where are you
what happened??
please come home
i need you

He curls up into himself, sitting on the floor with his back against the couch, clutching the phone like a lifeline. He doesn't have it in himself to be calm about this, too desperate for answers, too desperate to have Jungkook back in his arms. It isn't right. Whatever's keeping them apart isn't right. Nothing was supposed to get between them ever again. Some part of him had started to let himself believe that, too, to have hope they would never be separated again, that they would never allow that. He'd even let himself start to think he would last beyond September. Now, fragile as he feels, he tells himself he will, out of spite for whatever's kept them apart, out of need to have Jungkook a little longer. Out of love, because he can't do that to Jungkook again, when two weeks without each other feels like dying by inches anyway.

As loath as Jungkook is to share what's happened, Yoongi's questions are unavoidable. Jungkook doesn't want to lie — he's not even sure what other kind of story would be plausible anyway, what he could say to lessen either pain or worry on Yoongi's end. Still, it's not easy to make himself type the answer out. He tries a few times, typing and then tapping backspace, then trying again. His eyes keep flitting towards his door, and Jungkook swears that he sees shadows occasionally passing by. Do the nurses know that he's not supposed to have a phone?

at the hospital

Jungkook closes his eyes, a few more tears slipping free as he sniffles.

i was in an accident
after the beach, hit by a driver

His gaze lingers on Yoongi's final messages, on the entreaties to come home, before Jungkook then stares at his legs. Glances over at the drip by his side, still steadily releasing pain medication. Tempting though it is to push it all away, Jungkook's cheeks burn as he tries to imagine what it'd be like to return home now, unable to walk. Feverish through the night, plagued by nightmares. Never once did Jungkook imagine being in a position like this, of potentially needing someone to act as his caretaker, and as much as Jungkook longs for the comfort of Yoongi's company, he can't help but feel like the burdens he'd pose now might be insurmountable.

i need you too
i wish you were here

Edited 2019-06-07 22:46 (UTC)

A chill burns through Yoongi at the words on the screen, freezing him in place. He didn't know what to think, all this time, trying desperately not to let himself think that Jungkook was dead, all but convinced he had to be. If he's been in the hospital this long, it's hard not to imagine that maybe Yoongi was nearly right. It must have been bad.

He can't think about it. If he thinks about how horrible the accident must have been, about how badly Jungkook must be hurting, he'll lose it, already unsteady. Part of him wants to get up and rush out, make his way to the hospital and force his way in. He wants to crawl into Jungkook's bed and hold him, like Jungkook did for him.

fuck

He wants to tell him how scared he's been, how desperately he's missed him, but he can't. Yoongi has trouble thinking of himself as strong, and already he's nervous about what might be waiting for him when he gets in to see Jungkook, but he has to be strong enough for this much, at least, not to make it any harder on Jungkook than it must already be. All this time, he's been on his own in the hospital, no doubt badly injured, without Yoongi there to comfort him. Even as Yoongi tells himself he couldn't have known, he can't help feeling guilty for not having been there.

can i come see you?
gguk-ah
i love you

Jungkook only has himself to blame for being here, he thinks. Maybe the driver should have been more careful, that much is true, but Jungkook knows that he was walking in the road, that there probably would've been safer routes home. That he could have waited for the bus, or even for Jin to drive them home as he always had before. Any single change in the path he took, and Jungkook probably wouldn't be here, trapped without the boys he loves, unable to sleep, aching and lost to pain.

Suddenly, he understands why his mother wouldn't let him have his phone. Now that the line of communication has been established, however briefly, Jungkook finds himself struggling to breathe, the need for Yoongi's company so sharp that it pierces through all the other physical aches.

please come

It's too much to ask, Jungkook knows. As soon as visiting hours start again — no, possibly even earlier than that — his mother is sure to come back and take her regular place by Jungkook's side, and if she won't let him have a phone, Jungkook can only imagine that she'd get in the way of anyone who actually tries to come into his room. Maybe once, that kind of attention would have been a comfort, but it's stifling now. Jungkook doesn't want this, the attention of a mother who only cares now that she's come so close to losing her son in ways that she can't avoid, can't write off as him being wayward or foolish.

Breath hitching, Jungkook taps Yoongi's phone number and hits the call icon, panic rising in his throat as he clutches the phone and holds it close to his ear. If they take the phone away — if Heejin never lets him borrow it again — right now, his mind can't even process the risks, too intent on hearing Yoongi's voice.

It wouldn't be hard. Yoongi knows the bus route well now from return trips to the hospital to make sure his burns are healing right. He could get up now and go, and if they try to tell him visiting hours are over, he could sit in the waiting room all night until they had to let him in. He can already imagine the torture of being so close and still separated from each other. He doesn't get up, though. He doesn't yet trust himself to stand, unsteady in the face of so many emotions. It's overwhelming, his heart racing, eyes fixed on the phone. It's not enough, but he's grateful all the same for every message. As terrible as it is to know what's happened, at least now he knows. At least he can be sure Jungkook is alive and, if not well, still loves him as much as ever.

It's a horrible, selfish thing to worry about. It's just been hard, the last couple weeks, to silence the voice telling him he fucked up somehow, that this was all his fault. Even knowing Jungkook wouldn't abandon him without a word, he'd thought that.

The phone rings and Yoongi startles, staring at it blankly for a moment, as if he's forgotten how the damn thing works. Then he picks up, one hand holding the phone to his ear, the other wrapping around his knees, pulled tight against his chest. "Gguk?" he asks, voice shakier than he'd like.

Just the sound of Yoongi's voice alone is enough that Jungkook breaks into tears, trying his best to keep his voice down. He tries to turn onto his side again, his instinct telling him to face away from the door, to curl up and make himself as small as possible like he had so many nights years ago, when they were still in school. But his body still protests, and Jungkook's breath hitches as he sinks back against the mattress again, one hand covering his mouth to muffle the noise. The room feels larger than Jungkook remembered. Large, barren, and empty. Jungkook hates it, sniffles and rubs his arm up against his nose, trying his best not to tug on his drip.

"Yoongi," he breathes, voice barely heard above the roughness of his throat. His voice is already leagues better than when they first removed the ventilator, but Jungkook can't help but notice now how far it still is from what he remembers, all the softness gone. He can't hum the melodies of his favorite pieces like this. For the first time, a flicker of regret passes through his mind — maybe he shouldn't let Yoongi hear him like this, to sense how different things are now.

"I'm sorry," he adds, drawing in a wavering breath. "I should've gone home with you, I shouldn't've..." Run off. Gotten mad. Been so careless.

"Stop," Yoongi says at once. Jungkook's voice is rough, almost thin at the same time, and it breaks Yoongi's heart to hear him like this. The apology is worse, though, even than the changes in the voice he loves so much. "It doesn't matter now." He tries so hard to control the way his voice shakes, tries to stay steady and strong for Jungkook — not an easy task when he feels painfully fragile.

He wants to say it's okay now, that Jungkook's okay, but he doesn't know that. He's half-terrified of seeing for himself how bad the damage is, frightened he won't be able to handle it with the same sweet, comforting manner Jungkook brought to his own hospital bedside not long ago. Still, the fact remains, blaming himself won't help Jungkook's recovery, and it doesn't make sense anyway. Someone else hit him. They couldn't have known that night. It was a school night anyway, and as much as they tried to spend what time they could together, Yoongi had no expectation Jungkook would stay that night anyway. Still he wishes desperately that he'd insisted.

"All that matters is you get better," he says. "I need you to rest and take care of yourself and come home." His voice wavers more than he'd like, no matter how hard he tries, his throat tight. "It'll be okay."

Jungkook sniffles, and even though there hasn't been a single person who's put pressure on him, no one who's told him off for being negligent or who's reprimanded him for playing hooky that day, hearing Yoongi tell him to take care of himself feels like a weight lifted off of Jungkook's shoulders. Yoongi's probably right. He's not doing anyone any favors by constantly reflecting on things he can't change now. What he needs is to get better, and that's not going to happen without him taking some time to rest his body.

But being alone is hard, and his mother's company is starting to wear on Jungkook in certain ways. It was nice to have her constantly by his bedside at first, but now all Jungkook sees is the way that she's keeping him to herself, no other familiar faces stopping by his room, even though she has plenty of their numbers. Even though there's no way that she doesn't know how much his friends would appreciate knowing where he's been.

"I'm trying," Jungkook admits, his voice thick. He rubs his free hand against his nose, trying to divert some of the tears, though there's no way a nurse would miss them if one were to stop by his room now. "It's just hard. Not having you here... and mom won't give me my phone back. Or any phone at all."

Maybe it's unfair of him, knowing how upset and worried she must be, but Yoongi can't help a pang of loathing toward Jungkook's mother. He needs his friends. He needs people other people who love him, who want to be there for him. He needs Yoongi. He doesn't know if he would have made as much progress healing as he has without the love and support of the others, but Jungkook especially; now Jungkook deserves the same. That she's shielding him from the very people who would help him is despicable in Yoongi's eyes.

But he can't say it. Not when Jungkook sounds like this. He remembers too well how desperately lonely he was after visiting hours, and his father hadn't tried to bar anyone from seeing him. The hospital is a bleak and solitary place, and the idea of Jungkook all alone makes his heart ache.

"That isn't right," is what he settles on. "She shouldn't keep you away from us. But I — I'll be there. As soon as I can get in, I'll be there. And I know the others will, too. She can't stop all of us if we show up." He won't let her. He'll do whatever he has to do, even if it means sneaking past the nurses and waiting for Jungkook's mother to leave.

Jungkook blinks, his gaze skirting up towards the ceiling. He knows why his mother's barring anyone from visiting — the few times he's asked, her expression makes it clear that she blames these friendships for so much. Blames them for the way her son's grades have fallen in the past couple of years. Blames them for the distance between her and her child now. No doubt she thinks that it's their fault for pulling him out to the beach to begin with, for not watching over him more, for encouraging him to skip class that day.

Whatever tolerance Jungkook's mother once had for the group, it's worn thin now. Jungkook isn't even sure if Namjoon would be able to turn his mother around, let alone any of the others.

"It's not our local hospital," Jungkook warns with a small shake of his head. "At least... it didn't look the same to me. Lemme check." With a deep breath, he pulls the phone away from his ear, focusing to keep his fingers steady as he navigates over to the map app and zooms in on current location. He shares the pin with Yoongi's number, then presses the phone back to his ear again. "It's closer to the beach than home. Maybe they'll move me soon, though."

Before Yoongi can ask him to share the location, Jungkook's doing exactly that, a current of relief juddering through Yoongi as it comes through. He has an address, a place to go, a solid, physical location where he knows Jungkook is. After days without any idea what became of him, having this makes it feel like he can breathe a little easier, even as a sob pulls itself from his throat. He covers his mouth, tries to hide the sound of it. He wants so badly to try and be what he's been so afraid he can't anymore, the source of comfort and stability he might once have been. He can't be that if he breaks down again. It's just that he's been so fucking scared, and somehow this feels more real. There's a map, a small rectangle, and only a short line between them.

He swallows hard, takes a deep breath. "Try to let me know if they do," he says, forcefully ignoring the sound of his voice shaking as if that on its own might make it stop. "But I'll come soon. Tomorrow." He'll look up the hospital first thing in the morning or as soon as they get off the phone, and figure out what the visiting hours are. If he gets there early enough or late enough, he might manage to get past Jungkook's mother. And maybe that isn't necessary. Maybe she wouldn't try to bar his way. He's not sure. He doesn't want to risk it.

He'll make plans and it'll all be okay.

He clutches the phone like it's the only thing left in the room that matters. Maybe it is.

"I love you," he whispers, closing his eyes tight, another tear spilling down his cheek.

Yoongi promises that he'll make it to the hospital tomorrow, and a part of Jungkook wants to reassure him that it's okay if he can't make it on such short notice — that he's not even sure what his mother's established with the hospital staff, as far as visitation goes. But it's hard to try to wrap himself around the thought when his chest simply yearns for Yoongi's company, when it feels like he needs hope as much as he does the air he breathes. He nods, his fingers aching as they clutch the phone, before he belatedly realizes that Yoongi can't see the nod.

It gives him just enough time for doubt to sink in — should he really be asking so much of Yoongi? Asking him to break away from his schedule when finding a job is hard enough for Yoongi as it is, asking him to see Jungkook the way he looks now, bruised and injured and still unable to wean himself off of the pain medication. He's lost muscle mass, he's pale, he's pretty sure his body's retaining too much fluid.

This might hurt Yoongi as much as it did Jungkook when he came to visit after the fire. Except Jungkook could afford to spend the time in the hospital room. And Yoongi's father put up no resistance.

"I love you," Jungkook murmurs, his voice just on the cusp of a whine. He reaches up with his free arm, grabs his hair and gives himself a small yank. Keep it together. He needs to keep it together. "Come when you can, okay?"

It's all Yoongi wants now. He doesn't care that the hospital is much further than he originally thought it was or that he's not sure how long it'll take to get there by bus or if he'll get in trouble for wanting the day off without any warning. Every part of him seems to ache with the longing to be there — to see Jungkook for himself, to hold him, physical proof he's alive, that this is real. He's been so fucking afraid, and while hearing Jungkook is a start, it isn't enough. He wants to touch him, to hold his hand, to give the kind of support Jungkook's given him. It's not simple, loving devotion, but a selfish, terrified need to make this as real as he can.

"I will," he says, a fervent promise, his voice thick in his throat. "I..." He hesitates, unsure. Is it unfair of him if he admits how bad things have been? Jungkook needs to take care of himself, not to worry about Yoongi.

But eventually he'll get his phone back and he'll see anyway.

"I've been so scared," he admits quietly. "I thought I lost you. I didn't know what to do." Even saying it hurts, his heart too tight, too heavy in his chest. Even hearing Jungkook's voice on the other end of the line, the fear is still all too real. How he made it this long, he doesn't know.

Stifling the sound of his tears is far from easy. Jungkook still feels clumsy, his arms not having the same level of strength that they used to; occasionally he finds that they shake, as they are now as he tries to lift his hand to cover his mouth, to wipe away his tears. There's still a latent fear that a nurse might swing by at any minute and berate him for not sleeping, or confiscate the phone that's been so generously lent to him. The last thing he wants to do is let Heejin down when she's been nothing but kind and accommodating.

"I'm sorry for scaring you," Jungkook murmurs miserably, pulling in a deep breath. "I never — I'd never leave you by choice. Since I woke up... I've thought so much about how hard it must be. That I was gone and didn't — didn't say anything, couldn't — couldn't call you."

He takes another couple of deep breaths, sniffling and brushing at his eyes.

"Thank you for waiting, Min-ah," he whispers.

Yoongi wonders if he knows — if, through their closeness, Jungkook senses how close Yoongi came to not waiting, how badly he wanted to take his own life at times, and the utter force of will it took him to keep going. To still be here. How his heart beat against his ribs like a bird trying to escape a cage, wild and panicked. It was losing Jungkook that put him back in that desperate, frightened place; it was Jungkook, too, that kept him here. The thin hope that he was alive, the fear of hurting him, the need not to let him down or break his promise.

"I know," he says quickly. "I'm sorry. I know you wouldn't." That's what scared him so much. It took time, but he's come to an understanding, he thinks, a realization that Jungkook won't leave him, won't change his mind and seek something better, safer. "I knew you'd be here if you could. But it's okay now. I know —" You're alive. "Please don't worry about me." It won't be easy now, but it will be better. It has to be. He knows where Jungkook is and how to get to him. It's going to be fine, no matter what comes next.

Edited 2019-06-12 22:13 (UTC)

Jungkook can't help but worry about Yoongi, and if he's honest, it's a little easier to focus on Yoongi's well-being right now than it is to think about his own. His own recovery still feels so tenuous — they tell him that he'll walk again in time, but it's hard to feel optimistic when even getting into his chair is something that he can't do alone from the bed. Basic things that he wanted to learn, like being able to drive, don't feel like an option any longer.

Or at least, not something he can think about for a few months yet.

"I was afraid you thought I was — I was mad after the beach," Jungkook murmurs softly, licking his lips. "Or that I'd run away. I thought that if I couldn't talk to you soon..." Jungkook looks off to the side, his mind easily pulling back to all of the scenarios he'd mentally played through. If their positions were reversed, Jungkook's not sure how he would have fared with so much time apart.

"I was going to go crazy."

He takes a deep breath, slightly calmer than he was towards the start of the call. With a small sniff, he glances down at his lap. "I love you. I really, really love you."

"I love you, too," Yoongi says, fervent. He wants more than anything for Jungkook to hear that, to know how utterly fucking adored he is. That none of it matters now. That Yoongi doesn't blame him for any of this. "So much. I love you." He wants so badly to be there, to reach out and take Jungkook by the hand or to kiss him, soft as he can, careful not to hurt him. The desire to just run his fingers through Jungkook's hair is a physical ache, his stomach pulling tight, fingers straining toward something he can't reach.

"And I know," he murmurs. "I was — I worried. But I knew you wouldn't do that to me." It's more than he deserves when he's the one who left, once upon a time, but he's secure in that much all the same. Jungkook loves him with a steadiness Yoongi's not sure he really meets or merits. "'s why I was so worried. I knew... something had to be really wrong..." He winces, thinking again of the messages he sent, hoping Jungkook doesn't read through them when he gets his phone back. Hoping his mother didn't see any of them. He wasn't entirely himself for some of that — too drunk, too irrational — and he doesn't want Jungkook worrying about how close he might have come to hurting himself.

Even if he suspects Jungkook's already worried about that.

"I'm okay. Now that I know where you are, I'm okay. I promise."

It didn't really occur to Jungkook to think about what else an absence of this length would have meant, if Yoongi knew never to doubt Jungkook's choices. If Yoongi knew that there was no way that Jungkook would have ever abandoned him. Jungkook sits, his eyes wide and unfocused, as he counts how many days it's been — well over two weeks — and tries to come up with a list of reasons why he'd be gone for so long. There aren't many.

Jimin was gone for longer, but Jimin was also confined to the psychiatric ward, emotional scars and weaknesses obvious even after weeks out of the hospital. The only thing that Jungkook could have done to merit such a response is if he tried to take his life somehow, but even that's not a possibility, given the promise that he and Yoongi made to one another. They have to hold on until September.

Which leaves only accidents like the one he had. Or worse.

With a small breath, Jungkook wipes at his nose again, brushing away the wetness around his cheeks. "I'm okay. It took a while to get in touch, but," Jungkook pauses, his brow slightly furrowed. "It's not as bad as you might think. Mom's just... you know. Overprotective, I guess."

Yoongi closes his eyes, leaning into his knees, just letting the sound of Jungkook's voice roll over him. There's still a ragged quality to it, even as he hurries to reassure, that worries Yoongi. He can't imagine what would have caused that. He's not sure he wants to. Whatever the reason, though, even if it's only his mother's worry that kept him quiet, Jungkook wouldn't still be there if it weren't something serious.

"You're hurt," he says quietly. "Of course she is. I would — I wish I were there. That I could be too." His voice wavers, not as steady as he'd like. Being away from Jungkook now hurts, visceral, sharp in his gut, a sense of longing so potent it manifests as a prickling sensation along his skin. "Not over, just. Protective. I miss you so much." It's stupid, he tells himself. He went so much longer without seeing Jungkook before and they were fine. Except every day of that was agony, so maybe that doesn't hold up as well as he tries to make himself think it does. And when it was all he could do most nights not to dwell too long on the possibility that Jungkook was dead —

Even thinking it now makes his throat tighten. It isn't like that. They're both fine. Whatever happened or almost happened or didn't happen, they're fine.

While it's true that Jungkook's been hurt, he wonders if his mother's reasons for warding off visitors are more selfish than that. It's hard to know what he might only be seeing through a lens of emotion, too sensitive now after being cooped up for days, too on edge without anyone he can be fully open with. The kinder interpretation would be to assume that his mother, indeed, just doesn't want to put too much strain on her son by exposing him to so many people, that she wants him to focus instead solely on his recovery. But Jungkook can't help but wonder if her biases are what's more at play.

He doubts that she'd stop Yeongwook from visiting. Or her husband. Grandparents. It's just the friends that Jungkook loves, the friends he was with before the accident. Those are the only people Jungkook feels sequestered from — the very people he wants to see most now.

It's hard to push the topic; it only seems to make his mother's temper flare, bringing back that coldness and the wall that's been erected between them over the past couple of years. One that Jungkook desperately wants to tear down.

But maybe that's a bridge he'll have to cross again. He can't imagine being kept away from Yoongi much longer than he has, now that he's had the opportunity to hear Yoongi's voice again.

"I miss you, too," Jungkook says, his throat feeling raw and tight. "But now you can come soon, and it'll be better. Everything's gonna be okay."

Jungkook has always been the more optimistic of them. Without being able to see him, it's hard for Yoongi to muster up the same hope, his fear crowding in, conjuring images of how badly injured Jungkook might be. He tells himself that, of the two of them, Jungkook's in the better position to know how bad it is. That, if he says it'll be okay, that has to mean something. He wouldn't say that if he didn't think it were at least possible, even if his idea of what's possible has always been more generous than Yoongi's.

"Soon," he says, with all the fervor of a promise. "As soon as I can." Already he knows tomorrow will be difficult, that it's doubtful he can take off work on such short notice, but maybe he can go in the evening. Even if he wouldn't have too much time, it'd be better than nothing. "You're sure you're okay for visitors?" He nearly asks if he'll even be allowed in, if Jungkook's mother would have told them to keep out Jungkook's friends, but it doesn't seem fair. Besides, it's something he'll deal with when he gets there. If they won't permit him in, he'll just have to sneak in. He's not going to let anything keep him away, unless Jungkook tells him he's not ready. Even having asked, though, Yoongi can hardly imagine that being the case. If anything, his presence should help, the way it did for him when Jungkook visited every day.

"I'm fine for visitors," Jungkook says, his voice almost rushed, suddenly fearful of the thought that Yoongi might not be able to come. It's definitely a possibility, now that Jungkook thinks more about it. He's been allowed out of his room enough that he doesn't think there's any medical reason to prevent people from seeing him — his mother's not in a clean suit or anything of that sort when she comes to visit, and she brings plenty of food from outside — but he doesn't know what kind of restrictions his mother may have placed on the visitor list. He's not sure how much checking they do of identification when people stop by.

Maybe the nurses will be nice. Maybe they'll make an exception. Maybe they'll turn a blind eye, knowing how Jungkook hasn't been seen by anyone yet apart from his mother.

Maybe his mother, as loath as she is to let Jungkook reach out, wouldn't actually stop any of his friends if they were to turn up at the door. Maybe she doesn't remember their names well enough to ask nurses to turn them aside. She wouldn't. She wouldn't go that far. It's one thing to urge him not to be distracted, it'd be another to block everyone else out entirely.

Jungkook takes a shaky breath, trying to get enough air.

"It's not like I'm in a clean room, it's not — infection isn't what they're worried about and — I don't know. Maybe you can pretend to be Yeongwook. It's not like he's been around," Jungkook stammers, grasping at errant thoughts.

"It's okay," Yoongi says quickly. "It's okay." There's no good in Jungkook worrying too much, least of all when there's nothing they can do about it now. Either they let him in or they don't. As much as Yoongi would prefer to have some kind of plan, he can't know what will happen until he gets there. "I'll figure it out, I promise. If they won't let me in —" He hesitates, shaking his head. "They will. If I have to pretend to be Yeongwook or I have to sneak in, whatever, I'll be there. Nothing and no one could keep me from you. I'll find your room and stand outside your window like a creep, I don't care."

He's not sure that he could go that far — at least, not without getting in trouble probably — but that isn't the point. He'll go to whatever lengths are required to be at Jungkook's side, and he can hope, at least, that he might make him smile. Besides, with all they've already been through and everything life undoubtedly still holds in store for them, lying to nurses is nothing. He's snuck out of enough places in his life. They snuck Jimin out of the hospital. It shouldn't be too hard, if he has to, to sneak himself in.

Jungkook smiles for the first time; he's struck by how stiff his cheeks feel when he tries to do so. He doesn't doubt that Yoongi would try everything in his power to make it from the front doors of the hospital over to his room, even if it means snapping at staff, even if it means using a plethora of white (and not-so-white) lies. All that Jungkook hopes is that the barriers to reaching him won't be as difficult to scale as the ones around Jimin.

Even if they are, Jungkook can't imagine his mother holing him up in the hospital for two years. Can't imagine her holing him up in the hospital beyond the time it takes for him to heal, to be able to get himself around. Maybe it's all on him to heal faster. To work hard to regain his strength.

If Yoongi doesn't find a way in, Jungkook will have to earn his way out.

"I'm not on the first floor, so unless you've suddenly been bitten by a special spider..." Jungkook jokes, licking his lips. "Maybe I'll try to charm some of the nurses over. Figure out who's on my side here."

There's a shift in Jungkook's tone when he speaks again, and Yoongi can tell he's smiling. Even if it's just a little, even if it's brief, he's coaxed that much out of him, and it makes Yoongi feel a tiny bit better. He's not as good as Jungkook is at lightening the mood and being the optimistic one, but he'll try his damnedest if it means making Jungkook even a fraction happier.

"Ah, you won't have to try too hard," he teases. "People like you. Unlike me. I think I annoyed my nurses." He wasn't exactly in the mood to be the kindest patient. Even when he was trying hard to get better, even when he felt more prepared to return to the world of the living, he wasn't great at keeping up a façade of friendliness. Every time Jungkook left, he could feel himself lapsing back into melancholy, and, especially in the first few days, he's pretty sure he snapped at them a couple times. Though, in his defense, it fucking hurt. "But you're nicer than me. Prettier, too."

He can imagine it easily, too, how simple it would be for Jungkook to be sweet and polite, even if he's in pain. He's always had a milder temperament than Yoongi.

"Nicer, maybe. Prettier, definitely not," Jungkook says softly, a small smile still lingering on his lips as he tries to imagine what Yoongi was like whenever Jungkook had left the hospital. He doesn't doubt that Yoongi's mood was dour, that perhaps he even lost his temper a few times with the nurses. Yoongi's always been the type of person to need more distance whenever he was feeling hurt, and Jungkook's pretty sure that he's probably not the only person in all of history who needs a wider berth. He presses his lips together, then shakes his head. "You know, I bet the nurses understood. I mean, you were in a lot of pain and you couldn't... couldn't do all the things you could normally do. Anyone would be upset."

He wonders as well how many details the nurses might have had about the circumstances. How much gossip might have gotten around. Depression isn't a topic easily discussed in the general public, but Jungkook imagines that medical staff probably encounter it more often than not.

And as for himself... Jungkook glances down at his feet, the way they push up the sheets. He can still move them; he's not paralyzed. But even a small tilt to the side hurts, and he winces, breath catching briefly.

Prettier, he definitely is not.

"I'd ask you to stay on the call tonight with me but..." Jungkook takes a measured breath. "I don't know what Heejin's plan is like. Or how much her parents monitor her phone."

Jungkook is probably right. If the nurses lost their temper with him, they did so away from Yoongi, at least, well-trained and probably used to people in foul moods. He wouldn't fault them if they'd complained about him behind his back, but they were never anything less than professional with him. With everything he put himself through to land himself there — well, they've probably seen worse anyway.

His heart seizes in his chest at Jungkook's next words, a desperation clawing at his lungs. He wants to plead with Jungkook not to go, to stay on the line, half-afraid that all of this might prove to be nothing but a dream if he stops hearing Jungkook's voice. He can't, though. It isn't his phone, isn't his right to say Jungkook shouldn't be considerate of the girl who's let him contact Yoongi at all. At least now he knows where he is, knows he's alive. That's going to have to be enough.

"I would if we could," he says, imagining reaching out to take Jungkook's hand. He wants to touch him so badly, just to feel him solid and real under his hands. "But yeah, probably smart." He hesitates. He doesn't want to be the first to say good-bye. "I love you. More than anything. Okay? I'll be there soon and... we'll get through this. Just like everything else. I love you."

Even though it was his prompt, the way that Yoongi's words suddenly turn leaves panic cresting again in Jungkook's chest. He can't go back to being alone. He can't go back to only having his mother around for company, to watching nurses turn a sympathetic eye towards him. Can't go back to putting so much on a girl he's only just met. Jungkook both clings to every last word and somehow forgets them as soon as they meet the shell of his ear. Yoongi loves him, Yoongi's coming soon, they'll get through this but — but right now, it feels like Jungkook can't get through anything at all, and he's not sure he can go back to the limbo where time seems to stretch indefinitely in front of him.

He's sobbing before he realizes it. Stifled, discordant sounds that die only partially in his throat. He doesn't want to be here, alone in the dark, a strange stillness that pulls him right back to the night of the accident. He can't even run. He can barely move his legs, let alone support himself.

"I love you," Jungkook says, his voice pinched and high in the midst of panic. "More than anything." He glances up in alarm when the room is suddenly bathed in light, a nurse stepping inside as Jungkook quickly slides the phone under the covers, no time to hang up in the process.

"Jeon Jungkook-ssi? Is there something wrong? Do you need the dosage of your pain medication raised?" the nurse asks, not unkindly as she peeks at the machine.

"A-ah, maybe," Jungkook mutters, sniffling. "It's hard to sleep."

There are a few beeps, and Jungkook stares vacantly at the machine, preparing himself for the haze he'll sink into. The nurse reassures him that the medication will kick in soon, to press the call button if he has any further trouble, but Jungkook doesn't react much, staring distantly at his sheets and nodding until she leaves.

He stares at the still dimly lit screen of the phone, then glances at the door, careful not to pick it up again until it seems like the hallway is silent again.

Jungkook is crying and it feels like Yoongi's own heart is being pulled from his chest. To hear him sobbing and not be able to hold him in a kind of torture, and suddenly Yoongi's very limbs ache with the desire to get up and run to him, to do anything it takes to be in Jungkook's arms. There's no way he'd get in now, though, the hour too late for visitors, and being so close and so far would only hurt. All he can do is listen helplessly as suddenly the sounds dim and fade, another voice rising that he can't quite make out.

"Gguk?" He tries to keep panic out of his voice. They've all but said their good-byes, and still he's terrified the call might actually end. He can't go back to the way life was hardly half an hour ago, if that. He tells himself he doesn't have to, that he now knows where Jungkook is, that he's alive, and that that's so much more than he had this morning. It doesn't dim the ache that comes with knowing they have to hang up soon. Why didn't he try harder to find him sooner? Why isn't he there now? "Gguk — I love you. I'm so — so sorry I'm not there. Please don't cry. I'm coming, okay?" It's all he can do to fight back tears of his own, throat growing tighter with every word. "It'll be okay. We'll be together and it'll be okay."

When Jungkook hears Yoongi's voice on the phone, he finally snaps back to attention, rushing to hold it up to his ear. He should probably work harder to keep himself quiet, having made enough commotion to draw the attention of a nurse, but even now Jungkook can't help the way that he gasps slightly for air — a reflection, perhaps, of the way he feels like he's on the cusp of drowning, no ground underneath his feet for purchase. Every word Yoongi utters, from Jungkook's nickname to the apology for not being there already, every word sinks itself into Jungkook's chest like an ache.

It's hard to feel like things will be okay again, even now, with Yoongi's voice fresh in Jungkook's memory. But Yoongi asks Jungkook not to cry, and so Jungkook takes another shuddering breath to try and calm himself.

"Mmkay," he mumbles, sniffling and reaching off to the side for the box of tissues on his nightstand. His mother might be alarmed tomorrow to find so many of them used up. Jungkook finds that he doesn't care. "It'll be okay. It'll be... okay."

Jungkook closes his eyes, pulling in another deep breath. "I love you, Min-ah. I love you so much."

It's all Yoongi can do to hide his own tears, eyes closing at the sound of Jungkook's voice again. It's not hard to tell that Jungkook doesn't entirely believe things will be okay, and it leaves Yoongi wavering, torn between his own natural pessimism and the need to keep hope alive. One of them has to believe. If Jungkook can't, it'll have to be him.

"I know," he whispers. "I know you do. Get some sleep, okay?" He draws in a slow, deep breath, wiping his eyes. "Take care of yourself until I can come do it for you." Soon, he tells himself. He'll figure it out quickly and go as soon as he can and dry those tears himself. In the meanwhile, the idea of hanging up terrifies him; it isn't Jungkook's phone, he can't call him on it, and not knowing if he'll get to speak to him again before he gets to the hospital hurts. Not having a way to contact him feels like going back into the dark again, lost and scared and so alone.

He should be stronger. He should be the one to hang up, so Jungkook doesn't have to, but he can't bring himself to do it.

For several seconds, it's all Jungkook can do to remember how to breathe. Yoongi mentions the fact that Jungkook should sleep, but sleep feels so far beyond Jungkook right now, when every part of him is focused on the sound of Yoongi's voice, and his pulse thrums with the anxiety that comes from knowing he won't be able to hear it for much longer. It's not enough to hear Yoongi over the phone. The tinniness gets in the way of how Jungkook remembers Yoongi's voice — low and occasionally rough, but impossibly tender. Affectionate.

Even now, the tone of Yoongi's voice feels laden with fear, and everything's wrong. Everything feels... out of place.

"You can text this number, if you need," Jungkook finally says, his voice just on the cusp of pleading. Maybe he's taking too many liberties, maybe Heejin will grow tired of him, maybe she'll regret having given Jungkook her phone at all if they keep this up. How long has he been on the phone with Yoongi? It can't have been that long. Feels like they've barely started talking. Feels like nothing, compared to the lazy afternoons and evenings they spend together, wrapped in each other's arms. "I don't see Heejin again until breakfast anyway, so..."

There's so much left to say. Yoongi has trouble getting any of it out, when none of it seems more important than making sure Jungkook knows how utterly loved he is. He has no idea still the extent of the damage or how long Jungkook is going to be in the hospital or when it might be safe to visit. Somehow, the idea of asking now scares him. Maybe it means he has space to imagine the worst, but, for a moment, it also means he can remember Jungkook exactly as he was, healthy and whole. Happy.

Somehow, in spite of everything, they were so happy, just for a moment there.

"Okay," he says. "Yeah. And I can reach you through her if I need to, right? But I'll be there soon and then we can talk in person and we can catch each other up on everything."

Well, not everything. There's a lot he can't hide from Jungkook, a lot he'll figure out anyway once he gets his phone back, but Yoongi doesn't need to confirm how bad it was. That doesn't matter now, not as much as Jungkook's health.

"Good night, Gguk," he says softly. "I love you."

"Yeah," Jungkook says with a slow, stilted breath. He rubs at the trails of tears down his cheeks, trying to pull himself back into some semblance of order, even though Yoongi can't see him and there's no one else around who'll pay Jungkook much mind. "Yeah, Heejin's just a few rooms down and... she's been really nice to me, so." Jungkook swallows, momentarily distracted by the thought of Heejin, wondering why she's gone to such lengths to help Jungkook out, parting with her phone for almost the entirety of a day. Does she also want for company?

Jungkook can't remember if he's seen any members of her family, let alone friends.

"She probably won't mind if I use her phone now and again. We try to get meals together, if mom's not around," Jungkook adds, calming slightly at the thought. Even if it takes Yoongi some time to make it to the room, Jungkook no longer has to be fully isolated. There's at least one other face to turn to.

Still, he feels like his heart is caught in his throat when Yoongi says his farewell. Jungkook should follow suit. He needs the sleep, and there might be no better time to try than now, with the memory of Yoongi's voice and his reassurances fresh in Jungkook's mind.

"I love you," he murmurs. "Min-ah. Always."

Squeezing his eyes shut, Jungkook presses the call button, then sinks back against his pillows, staring at the screen of the phone. It takes all of his willpower to keep himself from calling Yoongi right back.

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