'𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚛.'

-𝙹𝚘𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚗 𝚆𝚘𝚕𝚏𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚟𝚘𝚗 𝙶𝚘𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎.

***
Jimin

"Holy shit."

"I-I know-"

"Holy shit."

"Hyung-" Jimin sucked inward, drawing in a much needed gulp of air to sustain himself long enough in order to maybe come to terms with everything himself, let alone his friend, who'd been rereading the same, singular sentence written on the note for the past half hour. Yoongi had been pacing back and forth expeditiously, the sweat-ridden, crumpled piece of paper fumbling between his fingers with endless and understandable distress while Jimin remained seated on their couch. "Hyung, maybe you should sit down?"

"Really?" Yoongi replied, his forehead plastered with layers of perspiration and his body exerting trepidity, although arguably the excessive sweating could've been a result of the undiscerning heat coming from the lit fireplace. However, after spending a few more moments ogling the older man ambulating in undeniable apprehension like a fear-stricken madman Jimin concluded that in actuality his hyung was probably ridden with just as much terror as he was. "Are you being serious right now?"

"Ab...about sitting down?"

Finally, Jimin felt a few more years of his life relaying back to him after Yoongi stopped pacing and turned to look at him. Eyes hot and glowing with surges of intensity, Jimin swallowed in response to Yoongi's wordless answer, and also his own attempt at lightening the situation. "I think I'm going insane. This, this's finally done it. I'm gonna need every fucking psychiatrist in the fucking country, because I can't believe what I'm actually hearing."

"Hyung-"

"You're telling me to take a fucking seat, as if that'll do anything? Holy...you're shitting me right now, right? Who the...who's the fucking prick who gave this to you?"

The trembling in his fingertips hadn't cancelled since he'd read that note almost two hours ago, and it certainly hadn't dissipated after sitting there, watching Yoongi's show of perpetuity. Now that his friend's unsteady emotions were directed towards him, Jimin had to try to shovel down his growing anxiety like always, but...today, he wasn't sure if he had the strength to do so with all thing's considered. "I-I don't know! I wouldn't sit here quietly if I knew would I?!"

"Jesus fucking Christ-" The slip of paper fell to the floor, and Yoongi sharply inhaled while bringing his face into his palms. The silence following was unfairly ominous, with only the occasional crack of the fire spitting from behind the older man jabbing at the line of tension every few seconds. He didn't dare break the muteness, allowing Yoongi his moment of composure, and instead spared a glance at the bionic who'd not said a single word throughout the entire discourse. Jimin thought this to be strange and unprecedented, because Taehyung's usual course of action upon his boyfriend's affliction would've been to at least step in and say anything, but...right now, Taehyung didn't even appear to be present in the room. Right now, more than either himself or Yoongi, the bionic was a shell of his body, and this more than anything that'd happened within the past couple of hours scared Jimin the most. A bionic, of all creatures, who continued whilst in a state of dread and horror was rightly foreboding. "Right, okay. This is...this could be a prank, right?"

Jimin spluttered, snickered even. "Sure. We're just waiting for someone to jump out from behind that shelf over there with a camera crew and say 'don't worry, it really is just some sick joke!'"

"Fair point."

"There weren't even a lot of people who knew Jungkook. There was, what...you and I, Taehyung, a couple of people who worked at the café, my family-"

"Jihyun? Begins with J?"

This time, Jimin scoffed. "My brother? Are you kidding me?" He didn't mean to take such a dry, sarcastic approach to his friend's responses, but after spending his earlier time basking in heavy sobs and tears Jimin really wasn't left with much feeling in order to properly reply to someone who was basically going through their own traumatism. Not exactly empathetic, but of all people in which the note affected it was Jimin who'd received the hardest slap across the cheek.

Yoongi waved off Jimin's words effortlessly as he pinched the bridge of his nose in heavy thought, his mouth opening every so often but then closing again after coming to nothing. "Someone from his work? The café staff?"

"No, not that I know of. I only met the manager once, but the café has a website and...well, it's been two years since Jungkook stopped working there, so anyone with the name beginning with J wouldn't have ever met him."

"So, we have nothing? Nothing at all? Did you try ringing the number already?"

Jimin bit his lip, his chest heaving now at Yoongi's suggestion. "N-No." How could he? If this really was something such as an elaborate effort to trick him, Jimin wasn't going to risk putting his fragility on the line only to have it shattered later on. He'd been clueless, discombobulated, and the only people who he could've turned to was Yoongi-hyung and Taehyung. And, whilst his mind mentioned the bionic, Jimin turned to the Taehyung who's rigidity hadn't faded in the slightest since Jimin had last looked at him. "Taehyung? Do you..do you have any ideas?"

"Yeah," the bionic snapped, his response riposting at Jimin's nerves without any delay, catching him off-guard. "I do."

Yoongi groaned, practically marching over to where the two of them were sitting before he leant his lower half against one of the couch's armrests with his arms folded. "Why the hell didn't you say anything?!"

"I-I...I just thought that...maybe I shouldn't," the bionic wavered. Then, before the other two could say something in reply Taehyung exhaled, his shoulders going slack as he hunched over with his elbows atop his knees, and his head and frayed tousles in his hands. Watching the bionic sink into his own temperament of what could only be defeat, another barren and hollow moment of silence strung throughout the room, and Jimin found his body and soul reclining into the depths of the sofa. What now? What the hell were they going to do? No matter what angle or approach his mind took Jimin found each point and turning equally just as terrifying as the last, and his thoughts showed no signs of diverging into something useful. The ghastly pit inside his middle was growing, had been growing for a while now, and he wasn't sure he could stomach anymore of this reticence any longer. Taehyung looked beaten, crushed, and Yoongi was looking away, although Jimin could visibly see the muscles protruding and clenching in his jaw. There really wasn't anything to say, let alone do.

Except...maybe the obvious. Jimin swallowed the portions of saliva that'd been building up atop of his tongue, and then he heaved his body upwards to stand. Heart pounding, mind racing, palms sweating, every impotent and trivial way to describe how the human body reacts to being encased in fear...that was how Jimin could illustrate how he felt, as he leant down with tentative extremities to pick up the note between damp fingertips. He remained squatted, his pupils dilating and flickering across the span of the note as he ran his thumb over the smudged ink, titian flares from the fireplace luminating the edges of the paper. "I should...shouldn't I?"

Yoongi's biting words retorted from behind him. "No? You definitely shouldn't?"

"B-but, if I don't-"

"Then nothing will happen! Everything will be fine if you don't call that number," the older feuded, his embroilment so apparent along with uneasiness.

Jimin turned his head, stupefied as he locked his gaze with Yoongi's firm glare. "I can't just, not call!"

"Yes you can."

"Hyung!"

"Son of a bitch," Yoongi grunted, shaking his head before he stood to his feet. "You're not calling. Do have any idea what'll happen if you do?!"

"Yes!" Jimin exclaimed, the thump of his heart becoming unsteady and erratic the longer he kept his eyes fixed to the note, each weighty thud more powerful and compelling than the last. "I might finally...I can finally..."

"Oi, don't get any ideas."

"You don't get it! You've never gotten it!" Jimin rehashed, the words burning the back of his throat once they were spat out with vigour. He could feel something, something scorching and broiling, and it was finding itself slowly rising through the whole of his being. "I didn't just love him, that'd be putting it lightly! He improved me, he made everything better-"

"Jimin-"

"-and I can't...I can't explain to someone who wouldn't understand how it felt, to have something like that, something so beautiful..." he paused, not wanting to choke or blubber or break down amidst his speech, his throat aching and throbbing in his attempts to bury his doubts, to cache his internalized monsters, to belatedly muzzle his desire to supress, "...ripped away from you so unfairly. 'Love'? It doesn't even begin to cover what I felt for him. Hyung, it...love for me, it became him." He paused again, awaiting for his friend's interruption, and yet surprisingly it never came. "To me, to describe love wouldn't use words, but, I'd use him."

"..."

"And, I'd do anything to get that back."

"I...Jimin..."

"Even, if it means calling this number and being disappointed. Well guess what hyung? I've been living in a constant state of disappointment for the past two years!" Was he shouting? Yelling? Since when had he stood up? "You of all people knows what that feels like: to want to disappear, to not even want to live anymore!" The look of hurt, of pain which lined his friend's features was something Jimin knew he'd have a hard time erasing later on down the line, but he couldn't stop, even if he wanted to. So he ripped his gaze away from Yoongi, and stared down at the paper in his hands. Maybe, the void from within himself would always be there, now that he knew it existed. But, he could fill it. He could fill it with everything he was feeling in that moment. Every ounce of resolve, of purposefulness, of promise...Jimin wouldn't push it away. Not anymore. "You know how much it hurts, hyung, how much it fucking hurts. Why would you want to stop me?!"

"Because-" Yoongi took a step towards the younger, his fists balled and clamped to his sides, with a look of certainty replacing the last. "Yeah, I get it! I get it, I get wanting to end it all better than anyone, and I've felt so much damn self-pity that my fucking landlord had to hire a bionic to stop me from doing anything stupid!" Out of the corners of his vision, Jimin was sure he'd seen Taehyung flinch in response to Yoongi's statement, however the bionic did nothing to raise his head. "I don't care who wrote that thing, who'll be at the end of the line if you call, but for fucking everything that I care about Jimin I care about you! I've had to watch you struggling for so long, I've had to watch you hurting, and it's only going to hurt even more if you get involved in this again!"

"I know!" Jimin yelled, the volume in his voice this time with purpose, his answer following every undermining thing which his friend had pointed out. "I know that, a-and even if it means getting my heart broken for a second time I know I won't hold it against anyone. I can't not do this hyung." Quivering, he reached out to grab Yoongi's still clenched fists, his eyes pleading, begging, for even an inch of support. "I have to. I have to try, you know I have to."

A few seconds passed, then those seconds didn't seem to stop. It was like, in that brief period, time was pulsating around his temples like every action he'd taken to get to this moment was concurrently being judged. It felt like a flurry, surge after surge of trepidation passing over his head just to see the sternness in Yoongi's expression fade into grief. "You're sure? You really want to do this?"

"I...yeah." Jimin inhaled, then nodded. "I am."

"...okay." The older turned around, both he and Jimin finally noticing the wide-eyed stare of the bionic who was no longer stagnant and withering, but was instead sat upright with his hands clasped together. Jimin eyed his black-haired friend, watching as he exchanged a knowing look with his lover, who in turn squeezed his lips together before firmly nodding. Then, Yoongi turned back to Jimin, this time without uncertainty, but with certainty. "I'm speaking for both of us. You're not doing this alone."

"Hyung..."

"We're both with you. Every step of the way."

There is the hug of gentle arms that still gives the space to breathe; then there is the hug of strong arms that tells everything that you are - body, brain and soul - that they are with you. In that moment Jimin loved both, the closeness and the human shields, because the embrace which he then shared with his friend became all the more significant, all the more heart-warming. His body felt like it was on the verge of collapse, riddled with fatigue, and when he found himself gazing past Yoongi's shoulder and into Taehyung's affirming eyes, Jimin for the first time in so long found his insides curdling with hope.

Hope. "Thank you." Two years. It'd taken Jimin so long to come to some kind of resolve. How he'd started it all without Jungkook...it'd been so completely different, so far away. And for the first time in two years, Jimin closed his eyes, and casted his mind back.

Back, to the times without Jungkook.

***
I promised a double update for this weekend, and I did it.

My finger hurts.