Namjoon.

"I am sorry."

I feel Seokjin's cold fingers loosen in my grip, his body going slack, before his frame leans back on me, almost like his breath has been knocked out of him. I can't blame him, I feel my own legs wobble at the news, ears ringing with the same words over and over. There is just this suffocating silence, this thick chocking atmosphere that stands still amongst us, our only savior, the man in blues, the same on that holds our answers right now.

This is messed up, this is the meanest thing the universe could ever do to us, every one of us, and it makes me sick to my stomach, my own fingers letting go of Seokjin's.

"We tried everything we could, I am sorry, we couldn't save the baby." More silence rings amongst us, and for a moment I think he's got the wrong patient, we all do, until Jimin perks up between us, clearing his throat.
"The baby?" He questions lowly, but incredulously at the same time, surprise present for him like it is for us.

"He was seven weeks along, but unfortunately the dosage was too strong for the embryo, it couldn't make it." With each additional news, I feel my head whirl even stronger, the magnitude of everything too strong to bare. He was pregnant, seven weeks pregnant? By who? I feel Seokjin stiffen on me, and slowly his head turns to the left, the direction Jungkook is stood, and there is just shock on him, pain, and so many more indecipherable emotions that flick through his face, and its only then that I realise the lack of surprise for Jungkook.

He's hurt by the news alright, but he looks fairly informed of the pregnancy, like he knew, or at least has known, and it makes me question more about what is going on. During these past few days I have come by lot of information about their personal lives, affairs and allegations of cheating, and when I didn't know how or the full information for that matter, I didn't think it was something of this magnitude, could have never guessed something like this could ever happen. That Hoseok would be fighting for his life, loose a baby, Jungkook's baby...

"Is he at least ok?" Jungkook asks despite the eyes on him, all of us holding our breathes as the doctor sighs. "He's in critical condition right now, and we can't say for sure if he'll be alright. He ingested three different types of pills, dangerously on dosage, and although we tried our best we can't completely say he'll be fine. He did throw up most of the contents of his stomach in his sleep, and that's a little hope, but the damage to him has been done nonetheless. We are still running more blood tests, but honestly at this point there nothing more that we can do. Its up to him to pull through."

Seokjin visibly shudders in front of me, and I know he's probably breaking apart at the thought of that, the thought of Hoseok having to fight to pull through. The latter is probably the last person who should have fate in his hands right now, seeing as he had completely given up.

"So he did it intentionally?" Jimin asks, running a hand through his hair, his pale tear stained face dampening further with tears. The doctors tilts his head to the side, letting out another sigh. "Well, he couldn't have ingested all of that unknowingly, the amount was taken over a close time frame, most likely within minutes or an hour of each other, and according to what we observed, it was probably a number of pills, so I think it's safer to say he might have done it intentionally." We all know what that means, and the absurdity, and the reality of it all just smacks us in the face.

Truth but with contrast, and we are left wondering why he would want to take his life, why he would want to give up, but at the same time understand the dead ends he might have come to, the challenges we've faced in this game, this twisted game with the universe, and the number of times probably all of us have thought about giving up.

Hoseok is my friend, has been for seven years now, and although we are not that close, I know he's one of the most genuine people on earth, one of the happiest, purest souls, and he definitely doesn't deserve that, the torture he is going through right now, or the same one he's been living being in a forbidden love. I know him, and he must have resented himself for going behind Seokjin's back, for possibly falling for the one person he shouldn't have.

It's a lot like my life story, all of us, and yet still different because out of all of us he ought to at least have had the happiest ending, the best one out of all of us. I understand where his need to not want to exist anymore must have stemmed from, I see my past depressed myself in him, and although I am angry at him for having not fought back, I oddly understand the surrender, I hope all them find it in themselves to see it too, and not straight out blame him like they would want to.

Jimin is still bewildered, probably confused by how first it can switch up, and Jungkook seems just pained, hurt. I hate him right now for all he's put Hoseok and Seokjin through, but I can't find it in myself to want to hurt him right now, not when he's already mourning his child, the same one he never got to see. I think he knew, about his or her existence, and the guilt is killing him right now, it's eating at him, and that indescribable pain alone is probably enough of anything he ought to pay for at the moment.

Seokjin, is just gone, he just looks numb, paralyzed, empty eyes fixed on the tiled floor, lips parted, in shallow breaths while his feet just root there. It's complete shock, and when it crushes on him he's probably going to be hit the worst. He has this thing where he carries the weight of the world on his shoulders, bares all the burden, and internalizes all the guilt and blame, and I can already tell he's not far from that land.

"Jin -"

"Excuse me." He doesn't look up as he walks away, hiding and running away from the he world like he always does. If given the chance he tortures himself with worries, grieves for faults that aren't his, things he has no control over, and I don't want that to happen.

I make to follow him, but I ran into Yoongi just as I make to leave, the smaller looking confused, and worried. "What are you doing here?" I am quick to ask, not sure how he got the news that quick, or why he'd show up seeing as he isn't close to Hoseok.

"Jimin called me, he said something about the hospital so I came, have you seen -" he rumbles out, but doesn't get to finish as the assistant leaps into his arms, hands going tight around his neck, body burying into his. Yoongi holds him tightly, fingers digging into Jimin's waists, one hand soothingly running on his back to stop his sniffles.

I am surprised at the intimacy, and the kind of closeness, taken back by the care and the delicacy that he holds Jimin with, something I have never seen in him before. It looks normal, comfortable, and it makes me wonder what kind of relationship they have, or why I don't know about it. If I didn't know better I'd say they were as close as lovers, but then again, that impossible. Taehyung has a thing for Jimin, right, they are going out. And Yoongi doesn't exactly do relationships, does he?

Either way I refrain from worrying about that now, knowing well I won't get any answers at the moment, not when the two seem to be in their own world, and knowing I have other important things to worry about, things like Seokjin and his well being.
That's my priority right now.

I stack down the same hall he went, glancing back a second to see Jeon following after the doctor that just spoke to us, probably seeking more answers. I feel bad for the guy, and this mess of a web he's tangled us all in, but at the same time it feels like the beginning of his punishment, and when I wouldn't want anyone else to get hurt, I think a taste of his own medicine serves him just about right.

It's surprisingly difficult to trace Seokjin, and I have to go to several floors looking for him, before I decide to check on the third floor terrace, where I find him stood out in one of the corners, basking out in the evening sun, as the chill of the early night perks out on the skin of his body. He's cold, freezing, his half way cup of coffee from the canteen the only thing keeping him warm.

He overlooks the sunset from the open extension, his troubled face cast upon by the settings rays, bathing him in a beautiful glow, breathtaking, but the least of emotions he probably feels at the moment. I debate whether to leave him be for a while, but I know deep down the last thing he needs to be doing is be by himself at a time like this, even if he thinks he needs the space.

I half expect him to be crying, but he just stares out into the world, and into the city that is coming to life, eyes fixed on the view. The night comes early at this time of the year, so I am not surprised to see him shivering, shaking in his posture. It's more than just the cold, that I know, especially with the weight of everything that has happened today, but I take off my coat nonetheless, approaching him without a second thought, fingers holding onto the fabric lightly as I gently hang it on the frames of his shoulders.

He looks behind him surprised, meeting my eyes timidly, but averts his gaze the next second, looking down instead, his plastic cup of coffee clamping between his hands, shaking as he tries to bring it to his lips. It's torture to watch, and I can't stand how he trembles, trying to keep his emotions to himself. Hiding.

I don't think as I take a closer step behind him, only mere inches apart before gently prying off the cup he so tries to cling onto, leaving him bare and by himself, with nothing to pretend with. He doesn't protest, doesn't stop me, but still shrinks in on himself, trying so hard to stay strong.  He should let it out if he needs to, shouldn't hide if he needs release, especially from me, because I'll always be here for him regardless of our differences.

"Hey." I mutter behind him, putting away the coffee on the sill, careful to not spill it. He pursues his lips, turning around to face me, teary eyes looking up to me.

"Will you hold me? Please?" He whispers, hesitantly, almost like he shouldn't ask, or doesn't have a right too, and I furrow my brows, feeling terrible that he thinks he needs to ask comfort from me, that even for a second he thinks he needs to ask me to be there for him.

Always, despite our challenges in life. I'll always be here for him if he needs me. Instantly, my hands wrap around him, bringing him closer in a hug, an embrace, the closest I have ever held him in seven years. One hand stays on his back, the other cradling the back of his head gently, keeping him patched on my shoulder.

He buries his face in my neck, hands tightly holding around my waist, clinging to my shirt. He doesn't cry, doesn't sniffle or sob, instead he just breathes in, inhales the scent of lavender off me that I have used for seven years, the same one I know he loves, his body calming at the effect.

I feel his heat on me, and I press him impossibly closer desperate for him to feel my warmth too, my presence, my care. "I am here, ok? I am right here." I remind him, and I hear him hum on my neck, taking in a shuddered breath in the chill cold, the one I barely feel anymore with his body on mine.

My own body relaxes at the thought of him in my arms, the thought of him safe even for these few seconds. There is peace for me when I think of him being sound and alright, and I take in a breath of my own, my eyes closing temporarily as my hands wrap tighter around him. Seven years and he's still my safe heaven, there might be chaos and war everywhere in our lives right now, even between us perhaps, but whenever I hold him like this, and him me the way he does me, there is nothing more that matters, there is nothing that can ever take away the comfort of being in his arms and vice versa. He brings me peace, calm, makes me feel like there is nothing that can hurt us in this world.

I haven't held him like this for long, for almost an eternity, and now that I have, I can't think of letting go, or comprehend how I have survived this long without him.

It's probably a couple of minutes in the quiet, one where we both bask in the feeling of being in each other's arms, but eventually we have to  come back to reality, to face the demons that face us at this moment, the ones waiting eagerly. I don't feel so lost, or scared to face these problems anymore, knowing well I have him, and he has me. He doesn't have to say it in words, I know he's got my back, I can feel it in the way he holds me.

"What if something happens to him?" He lets out lowly, voice course and muffled on my neck, and I ran my hand on his back, soothingly to take away his worries. "It won't." I try to reassure, try to be the positive one despite the odds. He pulls away slightly, his chin resting on my shoulder, breath now fanning the back of my neck.

His fingers tighten on me, and he audibly breathes, shuddering with his thoughts, his next words. "What if it does, Joon-ah? It's all my fault."

"Don't say that." I scold lightly, not liking the path he's taking with his thoughts. He blames himself for too much, and it's not healthy, especially at a time like this.

"What kind of a person am I. What kind of a friend doesn't know about their best friend's life. I missed all of it, all the signs, the warnings, his pregnancy, and this?" He breathes out and I hear the sadness in his tone, the tears in his voice. Perhaps he is right, perhaps he should have looked harder as his best friend, but at the end of the day, the decision laid with Hoseok, he knew in his head the path he choose, and in this case it isn't fair for Seokjin to be blaming himself for it. Each one of us play a little role into pushing someone to insanity, into giving up, and Seokjin shouldn't take on the weight of the world for something he had little to no control over.

"You can't blame yourself for not looking sufficiently, who knows maybe if you did something much worse could have come of it. You didn't have any control over what he did, he made a quick rush decision and you shouldn't take that to heart, you know he wouldn't want you to." He slowly pulls back at that, his eyes meeting mine while our hands stay around each other

"Maybe your right about that. But what I did, joon-ah, that was unforgivable. He is my friend, my best friend and I treated him the worst way, I called him the worst of names, sent him away and took everything from him." He whispers in the chill once more, brokenly, and I think back to their encounter in the office that Taehyung told me about, this bomb that somehow was just waiting to blow in his face.

"Your anger was justified -"

"If I was just a little understanding, a little patient, or if I gave him even a little chance to explain, maybe it could have made a difference, maybe it would be different. What kind of a friend am I?" He rumbles on, tears brewing again as he works himself up, and I don't think as I bring him closer, his forehead touching mine.

"Shhhh." I shush him lowly, my hands coming up to cradle his face gently, keeping him to me as he closes his eyes, breathing heavily. "Your human. You feel, and it was completely normal to be angry at them. It hurt to have lived what you went through, and if you said words you didn't mean in the heat of the moment, it was because you were angry, and that was normal. Don't hold it against yourself, don't blame yourself for hurting the way you did. He made a mistake, and perhaps you did too, but that doesn't make you a bad person." I remind him, breathing in his scent, my thumbs gently caressing his cheeks.

He felt like his friendship was betrayed when his fiance cheated with his best friend, he was angry, and he might have said some things that he now regrets, but that's ok, because god knows most of us would do the worst in these situation. He peers up at me through his lashes, raising a brow, and I manage a small smile, pulling away a bit. "Taehyung told me about it. I am sorry to hear so." He must have been incredibly hurt to have learnt of the affair, and now this? He must be going through hell.

"You were right. It's almost like a chain reaction. You look back and all of it just roots from us, from me and you." He sighs out, and I get what he means, what loving for us has cost people, not only the two us but a handful more, and now someone is on the dying of end it. But it's important to remember that we aren't entirely at fault, we both didn't get much of a choice on where our story strayed to, not at the beginning at least.

"You know what I have come to accept? That regardless of what choices we made, we were bound to hurt people. Someone set this chain into action, someone else lit this gas on fire, and regardless of what we picked, we were bound to hurt people, maybe more than we've done." Sometimes I sit down and just wonder what would have happened if this or that changed, but in the end I have realized there aren't a lot of variables in this. The only way we could have altered this story is if we wrote it ourselves, if people didn't play a heinous role in it.

"That's a diplomatic way to look at it." He says, a small smile taking over his face, and I smile back, happy to have made him happy. "Truth though." I shrug, and he purses his lips for a second, his face falling serious. "Thank you, for being here." He says, gratitude written all over his face, and I move the strands of hair off his face, tucking them behind his ear, fingers inching to caress his face.

"Your welcome. Always." I echo once more, reminding him that he never has to ask, I'll always be here for him.
"I am glad I am here as well. And sorry about earlier." I add the last part, having not forgotten about earlier when I caused a scene.

"I am sorry I shouldn't have done that with the kids around. I would never hurt you, or Jeonghan for that matter, and I am ashamed to have done that so carelessly." I was just so angry, so furious at Jeon for what he had done. After everything all these years, all the lies he's made our lives into, and he still had the audacity to cheat on him, to make Seokjin's and my son's life a play to him. I couldn't hold it any longer, not with him on that pavement, acting all smug and deserving - spoilt fucking brat - and my fist had just collided with his face.

I let myself loose so carelessly, lost myself in the rage, and showed Seokjin that side of me. I saw the fear in his eyes and I don't think it's something I ever want to see, or ever want my son to witness, and I would completely understand if he got spooked or feels hesitant about this thing with our son now.

He however shakes his head in disagreement, breaking another small smile. "I understand, it's hell for all of us now, and it's normal to be in the middle of it." He assures softly, and I nod along, grateful.

"Can I still see him sometime?" I ask hopefully, knowing the chance today is already ruined, and it will be a while before we figure out anything especially with all that is going on.

"Of course. He's your son too." He says, and I like the sound of that, the sound of Jeonghan being mine as well. I don't know how Jungkook had him and still hurt him this bad, him and our son, or maybe that's the reason, because he wasn't his, and it felt just a little easier for Jeon to disregard his actions. I am here now and I am never letting anything happen to him, or our son.

My lips find themselves to his forehead this time, and he lets me kiss him, hands wrapping themselves around my wrist that are still cradling his face. It's assurance, a promise, a pledge, to be always there, for him and for Jeonghan, and I let him know all of it silently, pulling back to stare into his eyes.

Someone clears their throat loudly, and slowly Seokjin pulls from my arms, myself hesitant to let him go as we both turn around to be met by Yoongi at the entrance to the terrace, standing awkwardly by the door
It's already dark, and although it's dimly lit up here, I still manage to make a bit of surprise on his face, noting the raised brows

"He woke up. The doctor said we can't see him yet, but I thought you guys might want to know." Seokjin takes in a breath at that, and he glances at me briefly, a series of emotions taking over his face, a little smile with it before he bows in gratitude to Yoongi and rushes out of the area.

I follow after him, stopping by Yoongi, knowing well he has so many questions, but letting him know he has just as many to answer as well. He still needs to explain to me what that was with Park Jimin earlier, he knows he does.

"We need to talk." He knows well what I mean, and he nods in agreement, oddly defeated.

I make my way back into the hospital, a little relieved; at least one thing turned out right today.