Chapter Text
It doesn’t take long for Yugyeom and Jungkook’s duo to expand into a trio, with Lalisa tagging along with them and chattering away. She and Yugyeom got along well, something Jungkook was happy about.
Through Yugyeom, Jungkook meets BamBam, another boy in their year. He’d apparently heard a bit about Jungkook, as their first meeting consisted of a rib crushing hug and teary eyes on BamBam’s side.
“I struggled with depression a couple years ago,” BamBam had explained later, pulling up his sleeve and allowing Jungkook to see a cluster of white lines as they were alone at the time. “I want to help you through. It’s a bitch to fight, but I believe in you.”
And so a trio became a quintuple, and it didn’t take long for Lalisa to befriend a girl named Mina and drag her into the small group.
Numbers were exchanged, and after roughly ten minutes of debate, their group chat had been named Jungkook Protection Squad. Jungkook had surely missed something, but it was his argument against four others, so he gave in and let it happen.
It took a week for him to work up the courage to ask about the name, and it’s Mina that answers.
“It started with Gyeom and Lalisa. They agreed to protect you from people who wanna hurt you. Bam and I want the same, so the protection squad was formed.”
“We have t-shirts!” BamBam shouts from across the room, and Jungkook groans, rubbing his eyes, but inside, his heart is light and happy. Knowing that these people care about him - god, it’s the best feeling in the world.
Even if those people are absolutely ridiculous, insisting upon wearing black shirts embezzled with the words “Jungkook Protection Squad” whenever they went out to a club or something of the sort. But Jungkook couldn’t feel too annoyed - not when Lalisa almost murders a man with one of her high heels for trying to drug Jungkook’s drink, resulting in them, and the man who tried to drug Jungkook, being thrown out of the bar.
But stumbling through the streets of Seoul at just after midnight, alcohol buzzing in their systems and laughter filling the space between them, Jungkook’s guard of steel finally drops, and he finds himself genuinely smiling for the first time in a long time.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jungkook is lying in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. His phone is on the ground, having slipped from his fingers while he was on Snapchat. His original friend group was out and about again, leaving Jungkook behind, as per usual.
Tears slowly track down Jungkook’s cheeks, but he has no motivation to reach up and wipe them away. He sniffles, his nose twitching and his lips tugging into a deeper scowl.
The door of his room creaks open, and Jungkook would turn, but he has no strength left inside him. It’s one of the bad days, one of the worst days, and the person at the door can tell in a heartbeat. The door closes softly, and the bed dips besides him.
A hand reaches out and runs through Jungkook’s hair, and he exhales slowly, eyes fluttering shut at the light touch. Another hand gently wipes away his tears, then pulls away, focusing on lightly threading their fingers through his hair.
“Lali,” Jungkook mumbles, and the girl hums, not pausing in her ministrations but letting him know that she’s listening. “They’re out again. Do they really not want to hang out with me? Am I that bad of a person?”
“They’re fucking assholes,” Lalisa replies smoothly, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re an amazing friend, Jungkookie. You have me, Gyeom, Bam, and Mina to prove it. You’re fucking talented - you made that dance crew for a reason, after all. It’s their loss if they don’t want you.”
A small smile curves on Jungkook’s face, but it falls quickly. Lalisa continues playing with his hair, lightly smoothing our knots and humming a song underneath her breath. After a few moments, she begins to sing, her voice light and airy, well practiced after years of work.
“No limit in the sky that I won’t fly for you. No amount of tears in my eyes that I won’t cry for you, oh no.”
Jungkook cracks a smile as he recognizes one of his favorite songs, slow and steady, Lalisa’s voice drifting through the notes. She’s more of a rapper - she made that clear back when they were kids - but she knows the fundamentals of singing and can hit a significant amount of notes.
“With every breath that I take, I want you to share that air with me. There’s no promise that I won’t keep, I’ll climb a mountain, there’s none too steep.”
The song is more recent, but during his last episode, Jungkook had let slip about how he adores this song and its meaning. Mina, the one helping him that time, had smiled softly and begun singing it to him. After seeing how easily it relaxed him, she’d shared the information with the others, and now all of them knew how to sing it.
Jungkook is completely, thoroughly touched by their kindness and caring. How they notice the small things and do small things for him, it always puts a smile on his face, and he does his best to return the favor. He helps Lalisa when the occasional slip hits her; he’s talked with BamBam on the phone for hours into the night, not hanging up until he knew that Yugyeom was there and they wouldn’t have to remove a corpse from the dorm the next day.
“When it comes to you, there’s no crime. Let’s take both of our souls, and intertwine.”
Jungkook breathes, deep and steady, chest rising and falling peacefully. Lalisa grins, and the hand that isn’t in Jungkook’s hair grabs his hand, intertwining their fingers. Her singing breaks off, and Jungkook looks up at her, confusion written on his features.
“Let’s dye our hair purple!”
Jungkook laughs, the sound cracked and raspy, but Lalisa looks delighted when she hears it. After a few more minutes of coaxing, Jungkook is out of bed, arm and arm with Lalisa as they walk down to the hair salon.
“Thank you,” Jungkook murmurs just before they enter, and Lalisa turns to him with a broad smile.
“Anything for you, Kook.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jungkook is walking around the mall with Mina when they come crashing into two of the people Jungkook really wanted to avoid for the rest of his life.
“Kook?”
Jungkook and Mina turn, their engaging and highly important conversation on which Avenger is the best halting as they come face to face with Taehyung and Jimin. Jungkook stiffens, and Mina notices immediately, wrapping her arm around his and pushing him a little bit behind her.
“Hello, strangers,” Mina chirps, effectively drawing the attention to herself. “Going off the nickname used moments prior to now, I’m assuming you know Jungkook. But judging by Jungkook’s reaction, it isn’t a good way. I’m Mina, a proud member of the Jungkook Protection Squad, and I’m afraid that I must ask you to fuck off.”
After her little speech is done, Mina turns on her heel and drags Jungkook away from them, muttering profanities under her breath as they flee the area. Normally, panic would be thrumming through Jungkook’s veins, but Mina’s aggressive yet somehow polite jab at Taehyung and Jimin is making him smile, dispelling the fear and panic into lighthearted adrenaline and childish worry of being stopped by one of the cops.
Jungkook bursts into laughter, and Mina looks over at him with wide eyes, but soon dissolves into laughter as well.
“Oh my god, did you see their faces?” She howls, their pace slowing as she grabs Jungkook’s upper arm, shaking with laughter. “They looked so offended! And confused! Holy hell, oh my god!”
“Mina, I think I love you,” Jungkook gasps as they collapse into one of the various stores, giggling like madmen, the employees glaring at them.
“Your gay ass better love me,” Mina giggles, shoving his shoulder lightly. Jungkook laughs loudly, and the employees are really glaring at them now, probably on the verge of telling them to quiet down.
Jungkook wraps an arm around her shoulders, and Mina grins, and the two continue walking through the mall. Even though he’d seen two of his old friends’ faces, Jungkook felt as light as a feather, drifting along happily besides Mina as they browsed and window shopped their way to the food court.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jungkook’s muscles lock up when a familiar number flashes across the screen of his phone, causing BamBam to glance up from stuffing his face with Thai food to shoot him a curious look. Jungkook doesn’t look back, too absorbed in staring blankly at the digits displayed in bold text on his phone.
Slowly, shakily, Jungkook picks up his phone, accepting the call, biting his lip harshly as the line connects. BamBam, though still confused, reaches over and lays a hand on Jungkook’s leg. Jungkook shoots him a grateful look, and then the line connects.
“Mother?” Jungkook asks, timid and shy, and BamBam’s hand tightens its grip. A moment of silence follows, and then Jungkook’s mother speaks.
“Your father passed last night,” she says stiffly, voice level and void of emotion. “You don’t need to come to Busan for the funeral. I just thought I would let you know.”
And then the line clicks and dies, the phone slips from Jungkook’s fingers and hits the carpeted floor, and he’s being pulled into a crushing embrace by BamBam.
Jungkook sobs, hands clutching at BamBam’s shirt, grief and devastation washing over him in waves. His father is dead, but his mother doesn’t want him at the funeral, all because he’s gay. His fucking father died and he can’t pay respects because his mother doesn’t agree with something he has no control over. It’s so fucked up and so devastating and Jungkook screams, all the bottled up grief crashing out of him.
He’s shaking, oh god, he’s shaking so much, but BamBam is there, talking softly, soothing phrases barely reaching Jungkook’s ears, and he’s pressed up against BamBam’s chest, the elder’s heartbeat thrumming steadily in his ears.
Slowly, Jungkook’s emotions even out, his sobs slow, and his tears stop coming. His throat burns, he feels weak, and his hands and feet are numb. He leans heavily into BamBam, sinking into his chest, eyes fluttering shut.
“You’re going to be okay, Kook-ah,” BamBam reassures him softly, brushing a hand through his hair. Jungkook manages a tight smile, wavering on the brink of passing out.
“Yeah. I have my own personal Protection Squad.” It was intended to come out joking, but the words are breathed like a prayer, and BamBam chuckles.
“Indeed, you do.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Unsurprisingly, Yugyeom is the one who proposes the idea. Not in front of everyone - when it’s just him and Jungkook, sprawled on the carpet, controllers in hand and eyes lazily following the motions of the characters in the game.
“You should stop being friends with them.”
Yugyeom doesn’t have to specify who - Jungkook already knows. He bites his lip, his concentration slipping slightly and making his character stumble. He recovers quickly, but the blunder doesn’t go unnoticed.
“Kook…”
Jungkook doesn’t dare look over at Yugyeom, pretending to be hyper focused on the game. But they both know it’s a lie, a front to avoid his feelings and thoughts because they often scared him senseless. Yugyeom sighs softly, but powers on.
“They’ve hurt you a lot, Kook. You really, really don’t have to deal with that, you know. You have me, and Lalisa, and Bam, and Mina,” Yugyeom coaxes as they continue through the level on the television screen. “Your happiness and health is more important.”
Jungkook exhales, pausing the game and turning towards Yugyeom, and the other smiles softly, reaching over and ruffling Jungkook’s hair. His fingers slip through the purple strands, and he laughs airily.
“Lalisa chose a good color,” Yugyeom comments, twisting the strands between his fingers and smiling as Jungkook relaxes into the touch.
“We went purple the day after the bullies broke her wrist and I argued with my parents about college again,” Jungkook mumbles, and Yugyeom’s ministrations pause briefly. “It’s the color of low points, but it also means hope. We’re in it together, and even though everything sucks, we’ll be okay. That’s purple.”
“That’s beautiful,” Yugyeom says softly, and Jungkook hums in affirmation. A silence falls over them again, the only sounds in the room coming from the television screen, which casts a blue glow over the two boys sitting before it.
“I’ll do it,” Jungkook whispers into the space between him and Yugyeom, his voice choked as the words escape him. “It’s time to move on.”
Yugyeom smiles, soft and fond, and he pulls Jungkook close, enveloping him in a tight hug. He rests his head on top of Jungkook’s, and the older of the two sighs and melts into the hug.
“Good,” Yugyeom murmurs. “I don’t like seeing you get hurt. None of us do.”
Jungkook’s lips tug into a small smile. “I know. I’ll tell them.”
Yugyeom nods. “Alright. You’ll do fine.”
“I hope so…”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There’s seven people standing on the path of the park in the center of the city, one facing six. Silence rings through the air, heavy and tense, before the one standing alone looks up.
“What’s the matter?” Seokjin asks, furrowing his eyebrows when Jungkook sighs and his gaze flits down.
He’d managed to get all six of them here, somehow, but now that they’re here - well, he’s having second thoughts about everything that he wants to say. He wants to laugh and drag them out to eat, falling into a lie as he talks and laughs with them.
They look so worried, so unsure, but Jungkook remembers how harshly they’d treated him not that long ago and how emotionally broken he’d become, and the worst of it all was that he’s certain the six hadn’t even realized what they’d done until he’d blown up.
Jungkook’s motivation comes back at a tenfold, and he takes a deep breath, looking up and squaring his shoulders. The others look confused, and Jungkook presses his lips firmly together and he begins to speak.
“Thank you for our memories together,” Jungkook says, softer than he intended but a harsh edge on his voice, causing the six to stare at him with wide eyes. “But I have Yugyeom, I’ve reunited with Lalisa, I’ve made friends. And I… don’t think it’s advisable for us to remain friends.”
“What?” Jimin exclaims, a shocked tone seeping through his voice. “What the fuck?”
“You hurt me,” Jungkook states loudly, and the others freeze, eyes widening and jaws dropping open. “You obviously don’t need me. So thank you for the period in my life where you healed me and made me happy, but you don’t do that anymore. You ignore me. You cut me off. And I… I don’t have to deal with that bullshit. So thank you, so very much, but this is goodbye.”
Jungkook turns on his heel, not wanting to linger any longer than he has to, eyes prickling with unshed tears. He hesitates a moment, a brief second, and Taehyung speaks.
“I know you won’t accept this,” Taehyung says softly, footsteps coming close to Jungkook before stopping a few feet away. “But I’m sorry. And I’m glad that we were friends. Our memories will always be dear to me.”
Jungkook feels a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, but the smile is one of sadness. He tips his head back slightly and sighs, before returning his gaze to the sidewalk before him, red and brown leaves lining the way, a path that Jungkook knows he can’t turn around on.
“Goodbye,” Jungkook says, his voice ringing clear in the crisp autumn air, and he takes the first step along the path.
Though his heart is heavy, leaving behind six of his former closest friends, he knows that staying would be unhealthy. Yugyeom finally taught him that his own health comes before others, and he’s not selfish for looking out for himself first. Lalisa opened up a new world of people for him, showing to him how much he mattered and dragging him out of his depressive spells. BamBam connected with him, trusting him and allowing him to cry when he needed to. Mina had opened him up again, drawing out laughter and smiles until his face hurt.
The bridge behind Jungkook burns, flames licking at his back and smoke filling his senses, every step he takes sparking and leaving embers in his wake, burning away bonds forged that had taken years to forge and only a few months to break. The heat engulfs Jungkook as he keeps going, the six boys he’d spent years with falling into the distance, vanishing into the smoke.
Jungkook’s eyes sting with tears he fights back. His new friend group - Protection Squad, whatever - had long ago taught him that people that break your heart and crush your soul aren’t worth crying over, but god, his chest hurts.
And yet a smile curves on his lips as he feels his phone vibrate in the pocket of his jacket, the heat fading away and the crackle of the flames becoming a pleasant sound to hear.
He isn’t alone anymore.