Jungkook was floating.

His head throbbed, every pulse of pain crashing like waves against his skull. His body felt too heavy, yet too light—like he wasn't really here, wasn't really anywhere.

But the warmth.

A warmth spread through his scalp—fingers threading through his hair, trembling yet careful. A palm rested against his cheek, another gripped his wrist. Someone was speaking, hushed voices.

"He hasn't woken up yet?"

"No... but his breathing is better."

"The doctor said he just needs rest, but—" A shaky inhale. "Hyung, what if he—"

"Don't. Don't say it."

"That attack was bad. I—" A choked inhale. "I've never seen him like that."

"He nearly attacked Sejin-hyung," Namjoon's voice, tight with something unreadable.

"Not nearly," Yoongi corrected, voice rough. "He did."

Silence.

A hand ghosted over Jungkook's forehead, brushing damp strands of hair away.

"I've never seen him like that," Jimin whispered. "When Sejin-hyung spoke, he just—" His voice wavered.

"Snapped," Taehyung finished. "He looked like he was about to—" He didn't say it. Didn't need to.

"We said he wasn't our maknae anymore." Jin's voice cracked. "What the hell were we thinking?"

Jungkook felt Taehyung's grip on his hand tighten. "We were angry. But that doesn't mean—" He exhaled sharply. "It doesn't matter. It should have never been said."

Yoongi let out a bitter laugh, low and full of self-loathing. "He begged us not to say that. And we still did."

"He thought we meant it," Jimin whispered. "That's why he left."

The words.

They hit just as hard now as they had that night.

Jungkook's fingers twitched.

The reaction was so small, barely there, but they noticed.

The hands on him tightened.

Jungkook wanted to tell them he was still here. That he could hear everything. That the words—his body gave out—sent a fresh wave of nausea through him.

He hadn't meant for this to happen.

He hadn't wanted them to see him like this.

"Jungkook?"

The fingers in his hair stilled. The hand on his cheek pressed just a little firmer. A warm grip tightened around his fingers.

He forced his eyes open, just a sliver. The hospital lights were dim, but the sight that greeted him still felt like a punch to the chest.

But they were there.

His hyungs, All of them.

Looking at him like he was something fragile, something precious, something they'd almost lost.

"Jungkook," Jimin choked out.

Jungkook's lips parted, but no words came out.

He didn't need to speak.

The relief in their eyes said enough.

"You're awake," Jin whispered, his voice breaking. His fingers trembled as they brushed through Jungkook's hair once more, a silent reassurance that he was here.

Jungkook blinked slowly, his vision still hazy. He wet his lips, trying to form words. "I..."

But his throat burned, and the lump in his chest was too heavy.

Jimin let out a shaky breath, his hand sliding over Jungkook's. "It's okay, Kook. Don't force yourself."

Yoongi exhaled sharply and turned away, rubbing a hand over his face. "You scared the hell out of us," he muttered, voice rough with something dangerously close to tears.

A beat of silence. Then, Hoseok, in a voice barely above a whisper—

"Don't ever do that again."

His chest ached. "I thought... you didn't want me."

Jimin made a sound—half gasp, half sob—and gripped his hand tighter. "Never."

Yoongi turned away, his knuckles white. "We messed up," he muttered. "We never should have said that."

Namjoon's voice was thick with remorse. "You are our maknae, Jungkook. No matter what. Always."

His breath shuddered. The weight of the night, the suffocating loneliness, the crushing fear— it all came out in a single, broken sob.

And for the first time, he didn't try to hold it in.

Strong arms wrapped around him, pulling him into warmth, into safety. Hands held onto him like they would never let go.

After almost an hour of sobbing his body tensed involuntarily.

They noticed. Of course, they did.

"Jungkook, it's okay," Hoseok soothed, his hand on Jungkook's shoulder. "You don't have to worry."

But he wanted to.

His lips parted, his voice hoarse. "Sejin..."

Silence.

Jimin was the first to speak. "You—" His voice wavered. "You lashed out at him."

Jungkook clenched his jaw. He remembered. The way his body had reacted on its own, the way he had shoved Sejin away, the anger, the panic.

Namjoon exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand down his face. "Jungkook, we didn't realize... how much it hurt you. Everything we said, everything we did—" He stopped, frustration evident in his expression. "We were wrong."

Jungkook stared at them, something raw twisting inside him.

Hoseok nodded, voice thick. "You are our maknae. No matter what. No matter how much time passes, or how things change.

---------------------------------

A week had passed, but the air still felt heavy.

Jungkook sat on the edge of his hospital bed, gaze fixed on the floor. His discharge papers rested on the table beside him, untouched.

He was going home today.

At least, that's what they kept telling him.

"You sure you're feeling okay?" Jin asked for what felt like the hundredth time, his voice unnaturally light.

Jungkook just nodded. He knew if he spoke, his voice would sound too hollow, too unconvincing.

Yoongi was the closest to him, standing near the bed with his arms crossed. But his usual detached posture was gone—his fingers were tense, digging into his biceps. "If you're tired, we can stay another day."

"You said that yesterday," Jungkook mumbled.

Yoongi didn't argue. Outside, reality waited for them.

Reality, and all the questions they weren't ready to answer.

They hadn't told anyone the truth. The company knew, of course, but the media had been kept in the dark. The official statement? "Jungkook is resting due to exhaustion." No one knew about the sleeping pills. About the panic attacks. About the night he had disappeared.

And they were determined to keep it that way.

"Do you want to eat before we leave?" Jimin offered. He had been softer than usual, never raising his voice, never stepping too far away. "I brought some food from home."

Jungkook shook his head. He barely had an appetite these days.

"You should eat something," Taehyung murmured. He was sitting on the couch, elbows resting on his knees. His usual playfulness had dimmed into something quieter.

Jungkook swallowed. "I'm fine."

None of them looked convinced.

Hoseok was near the door, running a hand through his hair. He looked exhausted. "The car's ready. Security's been tightened. No one will see us leave."

Jungkook barely reacted. He knew they were being careful—no fans, no reporters, no one to witness his return. He should've been relieved. Instead, it just made his chest feel tighter.

"Okay," he said finally. "Let's go."

The car ride was unbearably quiet.

Jungkook sat in the middle seat, flanked by Jimin and Yoongi. He knew it wasn't a coincidence. It was the same in the hospital—whenever he slept, at least one of them had stayed behind. Someone was always near him. Watching. Waiting.

It should've been suffocating. But somehow, it wasn't.

He tilted his head against the window, watching the city blur past. He heard their voices, but they sounded far away.

"...We'll have to be extra careful at the dorm."

"...I told the staff no visitors for now."

"...He's been quiet all week."

Jungkook's hands curled into fists. He knew they were worried. He knew. But hearing them talk about him like this, as if he wasn't even there—

"We're not going to leave you alone, okay?"

Jungkook blinked. Jimin's voice was soft, but there was something firm in it. A quiet promise.

Jungkook exhaled. He hadn't realized how badly he needed to hear that.

"...Okay," he whispered.