♥║ thirty-nine ║♥      

Taehyung wakes up with two unexpected surprises: Jungkook is gone, but someone else is standing at the foot of the bed in his place...

Yoongi.

Taehyung's breath catches in his throat, anxiety filling him. He supposes the accident wouldn't have been kept a secret, but he hadn't mentally prepared himself to see any of the boys face-to-face yet. Especially Yoongi, also known as the most protective person Taehyung has ever met, even when he tries to deny it. He's always been more of an older brother to Taehyung than his own flesh and blood.

He's grateful and slightly dreadful of it.

Like now, for example, he wishes he could sink into the hospital mattress and disappear entirely.

It's not that he thinks Yoongi is mad at him; for all Yoongi knows, it was simply a car accident that Taehyung had little control over. However, the fact that that isn't the whole truth is suffocating Taehyung with guilt.

Because now he has to look his hyung in the eyes, staying quiet about his true intention. That would devastate Yoongi--all of the boys.

And besides, Taehyung hadn't meant to. He isn't crazy. He was just... just having a moment of crisis. It won't happen again. There's no reason to make a big deal of it. He's alive. That's enough, right?

"Oh, you're awake," Yoongi says with a breath of relief, shoving his hands into his pockets. His eyes are a little puffy, but they remain wide and locked on Taehyung. "How are you doing?"

Taehyung sits up slightly, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I'm feeling better," he replies, partially the truth.

"Jungkook sent the group message out last night, but it was past visiting hours," Yoongi admits. "I would've been here sooner."

Taehyung smiles, but he feels even guiltier. "It's okay, hyung. You didn't have to come at all, you know."

Yoongi rolls his eyes. "Bullshit. Of course I had to. The rest of the boys are here too, but they're downstairs in the cafeteria since you were asleep."

"Why didn't you go with them? Clearly I'm not going anywhere," Taehyung says, trying to joke and take a weight off himself.

Yoongi hangs his head instead of laughing along. "I haven't exactly had an appetite."

Taehyung frowns. "Because of me or...?"

Yoongi has always struggled with his self image, especially with a piece of shit father that lets him know just how horrible he is. In fact, the two have been in reversed positions before; Taehyung at the foot of the bed and Yoongi laying down, connected to a feeding tube after passing out from going too long without eating. Taehyung had been the one to find him when he didn't show up to school two days in a row and didn't reply to any texts.

Yoongi shrugs. "Both, I guess. Mainly you right now, though."

"I'm fine, hyung. Go eat, please."

"I can wait a little longer," Yoongi says, sitting in the chair beside Taehyung's bed. "I've already been here almost an hour waiting for you to wake up."

"You're so stupid," Taehyung mumbles. "You shouldn't have done that."

"Sorry for caring."

"You should learn how to manage it better."

"Look, the fact that I do care is an accomplishment for me, okay?" Yoongi gives Taehyung a look. "I physically could not leave the room."

This makes Taehyung's eyes water, the pressure of his instability practically choking him. Of course, Yoongi doesn't miss it, despite Taehyung looking away.

"Why are you crying? Do you hurt anywhere? This is the button for the nurse right?"

Taehyung takes the remote from him. "I don't need a nurse," he whispers. "I hurt everywhere, Yoongi-hyung."

The elder scrunches his brows, leaning forward. "Let me call the nurse, Tae."

"No, I don't need a nurse," he repeats, a tear escaping him despite his efforts to hold it in. "I need..." Jungkook's words circle back to him, and he pinches his eyes shut. His voice is barely audible when he croaks out, "I think I need help."

Yoongi is quiet, though, his eyes don't waver from Taehyung's face. Meanwhile, the younger can't bear to look at him.

He sniffs, trying not to cry harder as he pulls his knees up to his chest.

When Yoongi speaks, Taehyung can't fight it anymore. "You did it on purpose, didn't you?"

Taehyung lets his head fall onto his knees, his hands clasped around his calves so tightly he can feel his nails digging into his skin. It takes a moment, but soon Yoongi's hand in on Taehyung's back, rubbing small circles into it.

"You probably hate me," Taehyung whispers in a muffled voice through his tears.

Yoongi sighs, and Taehyung can picture him rolling his eyes. "I don't hate you, you brat. It's okay, Tae."

"No, it's not. I keep getting hurt and I keep hurting everyone else. I'm a burden for all of you and I'm sorry."

"Hey, that's not true." Yoongi grabs Taehyung's arm, trying to get a look at his face. "Taehyung, look at me."

Albeit it takes all his courage, Taehyung manages to raise his face, his red, blurry eyes locking with Yoongi's intense ones.

"You're not a burden. Do you think we'd all be here if we didn't care?" Yoongi is nearly gawking at him, disbelief on his face that Taehyung could think such a way.

"Needing help isn't a bad thing," Yoongi promises. "None of us are going to love you any less, got it?"

Taehyung doesn't understand how Yoongi can be firm yet compassionate at the same time, however, it seems to help grandly. He's already calmed down some, wiping the remnants of his tears away.

"Can I..." Yoongi purses his lips. "Can I ask why?"

So Taehyung is honest and tells Yoongi exactly how he's been feeling. Yes, his brother is a huge part of it, and probably the straw that broke the camel's back. And yet, his mother has been a weight on his shoulders for a while now, always breathing down his neck. Deep down, he knows she's only trying to look out for him. If only she knew how to do it better.

The rest of the boys come back upstairs shortly after that, luckily long after Taehyung's tears have completely dried. They end up playing a few card games, all of them piled in the room despite it being against the rules to have more than two people in at a time. A nurse comes in and doesn't seem to mind, giving them a polite smile while she checks Taehyung's vitals.

Then it starts falling apart again.

There's a knock on his door. Everyone pauses, just like they had with the nurse, looking expectantly at the door.

Lo and behold, his mother walks in.

Everyone visibly tenses, especially Jungkook, who's right beside Taehyung in the bed, both of this close together as they were conspiring with each other against the rest of the boys in their mini game of poker. He doesn't scoot away, though, not like Taehyung expects him to, and that alone brings a small smile of victory on the elder's face.

His mother gives a sharp glance to each of the boys, eventually making eye contact with her son, a scowl on her tinted red lips. It almost seems like everyone is holding their breath, waiting for her to speak.

"I'd like to speak with my son," she says curtly, her gaze unwavering from Taehyung's.

Quickly and obediently, each boy begins to scramble out of the room, not wanting to test the beast awaiting her moment to pounce. Jungkook gets up slowly, hesitating a bit before he gives Taehyung a sad smile, following the rest of the group out to the hall.

When the door shuts, it's Taehyung's turn to hold his breath, sitting up stick-straight, his hands balled in the sheets. His mother's eyes don't soften as she sits on the bed next to him.

"Taehyung," she says softly, and he can't tell if she's about to scold him or have a heart-to-heart. Most likely the former. "Why do you hang out with them?"

He frowns. "They're my friends."

"But why? Out of all the children in the school, all the top-class options... why did you choose them?"

He narrows his eyes, but she isn't looking at him anymore. "Because they care about me. And I care about them."

She sighs, clasping her hands in her lap as she stares at the floor. "I guess I'll never understand you. I've tried my best over the years to comprehend your perspective, but your decisions always bewilder me."

He bites his bottom lip, contemplating if he should really say what's on his mind or give her a minute to finish. He decides to wait a little longer.

He's glad he does.

"I really am curious," she says, quieter now, almost a whisper. "How... how can you say you're in love with another boy? How do you feel that? It doesn't seem legitimate." She holds up a hand to stop him when he opens his mouth, turning to face him. "I promise, I'm not intending to come off at crude. I never do. It's just... my way. I know I haven't been the mother you want, so that's why I'm trying now. I want to hear from you what makes it so... real."

He gapes at her, eyes widening. Is she being serious or is this a joke? He could almost cry again in relief, but he won't get his hopes up yet. A harsh insult is always on the tip of her tongue. He isn't going to let his guard down so easily.

But he can at least be honest.

"You remember falling in love with Dad, don't you?"

Her eyebrows furrow. "Of course I do. But that can't possibly feel the same."

"Why not?"

"Because your both boys, Taehyung. A man and a woman express different feelings." She sounds unsure of herself, though, almost like she's regurgitating what's been drilled into her head for years.

"I can assure you, it feels the exact same. Maybe even better." Taehyung's cheeks flush as Jungkook's face comes to mind, but if his mother is finally going to listen, he can't stop now. "It's the type of feeling that when I look at him, I can't look away. If he's not smiling, it's my job to make him smile. If he's upset, it's my job to comfort him. That's what love is, Mom. Feelings have nothing to do with genders.

"He deserves so much more than what I can give him. I want to give him the world, everything. I feel it in my chest, in my heart. Sometimes it's so overwhelming that I call him just to hear his voice. Or stop him in the hallway just to see him smile. Sometimes we don't even have to talk. Just having him with me fills me with so much peace... I love him, Mom. I love him so much."

His mother is staring at him in an odd way, an expression Taehyung can't quite decipher. Then the strangest thing happens.

A tear runs down her cheek.

Never has Taehyung ever seen his mother cry. He doesn't know how to react. He feels like he could cry too, but he's more puzzled than upset. The only emotion he's ever really seen on her is anger.

"Oh, Taehyung..." She sniffs, dabbing her eyes with her sleeve to keep her makeup from running. "How did this happen?"

More confused now, Taehyung can only gawk at her.

"This isn't how it's supposed to go," she continues, on the verge of full-on sobbing. "This isn't part of the plan. How am I supposed to fix this?"

Still, he blinks at her.

She pulls out her phone, going into her contacts. "I knew Doctor Somi was right. I should've intervened sooner."

"What?"

"The doctor said you'll be discharged by Friday. I can get you in with Somi on Saturday afternoon and—"

"What? Wait. Slow down, Mom. Who's Doctor Somi?"

She waves her hand dismissively, typing out a message to the lady. "My therapist, Taehyung. She's already said she'd be more than happy to meet with you."

Taehyung scoffs. "What?" he repeats a third time. "I don't need therapy."

"I shouldn't have let you get so close to that boy. You're going to be heartbroken now at your wedding."

"Mom." She ignores him. "Mom," he says louder, grabbing her wrist to stop her actions. She looks at him as if she's confused, her eyes still watery. There's a lump in his throat. "I can't believe you," he whispers, voice cracking.

"Taehyung, honey, I'm trying to help you."

"You didn't listen to anything I said," he says, getting more frustrated. "You never listen to me. I'm not your fucking puppet."

She gasps. "Taehyung, your language!"

"Funny you care more about the word 'fuck' than you do about my actual life," he snaps. "You said you were trying to understand, but I knew you were lying. It's always about you and your reputation."

She clenches her jaw. "My reputation is your reputation. Family names are important."

"They're bullshit," he growls. "I don't want to be known by my family. I want to be known as me. I want to live as me."

"How much morphine are they giving you, honey?"

He stares at her, his heart slowly breaking bit by bit. His voice wavering from the verge of crying, he whispers, "Get out."

She leans back, surprised. "Excuse me?"

"Get out."

"Taehyung, I'm your mother."

"A mother is someone who gives a damn about their child's happiness. Until you 'comprehend' that, you aren't my mother. Just a woman who birthed me."

"How..." She gets to her feet, shocking Taehyung when tears start running down her cheeks. "How can you say that?"

The defeat and absolute devastation in her voice has guilt swirling up inside him quickly. He spoke out of hurt, but he can't take it back. Not now. Not when she still doesn't see that she's the problem.

"Get out," he repeats, louder this time, sobs threatening to break out of him.

She covers her mouth with her hand, albeit she tries to straighten her shoulders, then she spins on her heel and quickly swings the door open, her heels clicking loudly on the linoleum as she speeds off.

Jungkook pokes his head in, but Taehyung is curled into a ball, sniffling into the blanket. The younger softly closes the door, walking over to the bed and lowering himself onto it.

"Tae—"

"I hate her," he spits. "That's why I wanted to die. If my own mother doesn't want me as I am, no one will. Why did I have to be the one born broken?"

Jungkook brushes Taehyung's hair off his forehead. "You aren't broken, Tae. And you have a whole group of people that want you just as you are. She doesn't understand that, but that doesn't mean she never will."

Taehyung rolls over to face him, his eyes red. "I lied, Jungkook," he whispers. "I'm not fine. Just thinking about her makes me feel like I could throw up. Like I'm worthless. A disappointment. A waste of space. A horrible person—"

Jungkook kisses his lips gently. "Stop it. You're none of those things and you know it. It's okay to not be fine, hyung."

Taehyung's bottom lip quivers. "I'm so scared, Jungkook." He presses his face into the younger's chest, his words muffled when he whispers, "I just want my mom to love me."