Work Text:
Yoongi looks at the empty coffee mug beside him. The technology surrounding him nothing new, it’s been around for decades, years even. He still attempts to do the impossible, to reincarnate the dead. He’s close, he’s so close to seeing his lover rise up from the cold metal bed where wires run up and down a metal skeleton. The reds and blues don’t matter to him anymore, he has the right formula to get a human-like skin to cover the surface. It’s a matter of whether he can the technology to operate correctly.
He’s young, too young to feel the weight of the world on his shoulders at twenty-four years old. That doesn’t stop him though, nothing can. Not his friends all calling him at three in the morning over the course of the week. He feels something pressing down on him, he always does. It’s like a veil covering his eyes sometimes, blinding him to reality. He can do it though. He knows he can, he has to.
He wakes up in the morning, his cigarettes spilt all over the desk and he notices three missed calls staring at him from the wall. They’re only supposed to use those for business conferences, then again, the company would let him do anything. They can’t afford to lose him, he’s known throughout the world for his knowledge of DNA coding and programming. Sometimes his boss forces him to go to university lectures and speak.
He’s sick of the way people treat his idea, countless religious organisations speaking out against his work. Everyone knows his story by now, though it wasn’t supposed to be like this. If technology had just been a little bit slower, this couldn’t have happened. The hope that this could succeed is the only thing that keeps him alive these days. He didn’t mean to trapped in his thoughts like this, pinned underneath the weight of them. His body and mind can barely handle it anymore, it’s this hope that keeps him holding on. The hope that he’ll be the first to use this technology for it’s destined use. Just as he’s about to get back to work, make sure the program for the final processes to begin. He’ll finally see the structure of his beloved’s face again, the possibility of feeling soft skin against calloused hands.
He almost jumps out of his seat when he sees Namjoon’s face on the big screen in front of him. He hadn’t even picked up the call, though he doesn’t complain as he turns his back to his friend. It’s not that he doesn’t care about Namjoon, he does. He likes having his presence in the back as he works steadily each and every day.
“Yoongi, look what Taehyung and I got you!” Namjoon’s smile is warm and welcoming, in his left hand is what looks like takeaway. It’s funny, he thinks, they’re living so far in the future yet the small cafe down the street still makes so much money off the scientists who work in the labs.
“You better open the door for us, we gotta make sure you eat!” Taehyung’s voice is loud, and it fills the room enough that it hurts his ears. He just nods in reply and the call is ended, the screens around him going black as light filters into the room from the skylights. The metal skeleton on the table behind him bathing in the light.
Soon, soon he’ll come back to me. Is what Yoongi thinks as he looks on from the table, going over the code that holds DNA. It’s the DNA and the memories that are key, the DNA has continued to stay as it was, but on his computer, it’s programmed perfectly to fit the profile. He’ll look as he would as a twenty-two year old, and the brain currently floating in a preservative chemical fluid is hidden away in the freezer.
Soon.
Yoongi watches as the sun sets, walking out of the university labs. His black facemask pulled up to hide his mouth, with a black beanie to shield his head from the cold. There are little pieces of grey hair sticking out from underneath. He smiles underneath it all, the evening breeze hitting his face. He always has found the night to be the most calming part of the day, he feels like it’s the time everything comes together. He’s lucky to have his license already, his old beaten up motorcycle is waiting for him in the parking lot.
The silver gleams underneath the city light as he straddles it, pulling his riding gloves on. Jimin pretends to hate it, but Yoongi knows how much he loves it. How much he loves the feeling of the wind in his hair, how much he loves the thrill. His favourite thing is the solidarity he gets from riding though, as the engine revs up behind him he can’t help but smile as he kicks off the pavement. Riding into the epicentre of Seoul, the night is young after all.
He feels alive as he rides through the streets. There’s no better time to be alive, everything advancing. Here he is, on top of it all. He’s eighteen and one of the most brilliant minds out there, even though he slacked off just a little bit in high school. Namjoon had always berated him for that. But Namjoon didn’t get into university at seventeen years old. Namjoon got into university at eighteen years old.
He moves through the streets, already familiar with them. The lights cascading past, he feels his facemask fall from one ear, it flies away in the wind. Leaving his face exposed to the harshness of the summer air. He pulls up outside the bar, the fluorescent characters seem bigger than they are but he doesn’t bat an eye. As he walks through the doors, he’s bathed in a purple light. He sees his boyfriend of just over a year working behind the bar, he can barely see him. Yoongi knows though, he knows Jimin better than anyone else ever could.
He finds himself already smoking his second cigarette by the time Namjoon arrives at his door. Knocking harshly on it, he pretends to ignore it at first. He knows they’re going to try to get him to see someone else, maybe even move onto a whole new project. As if they’re asking him to forget, how can he forget? That’s just not fair. He doesn’t even need to get out of his chair. One of his legs is resting on the table, his other foot planted on the ground. His eyes are closed, head leant back far enough so when he’s opened them he’s watching as the smoke wafts through the open vents.
Instead of seeing that though, he sees bright red hair and a box-shaped smile. Taehyung, he wonders how Taehyung feels about everything right now. He wonders if Taehyung agrees with what he’s doing. If Taehyung believes his actions are just and right. He doesn’t snap out of reverie as he puts his cigarette out in the ashtray he’d bought himself. There are countless ashes and cigarette buts left in the small tray, he can’t be bothered to clean it out.
“You need to stop smoking.”
Namjoon leans forward and grabs all the cigarettes from where they lie on the table. Yoongi’s tempted to snap back, but his friend is only looking out for him.
“Do I now?”
He meets Namjoon’s gaze, seeing nothing but concern and worry etched into his smile. Since when did Namjoon’s smile get so tired, so worn and almost empty. Maybe it’s because he’s sick of watching Yoongi ruin himself over and over again. He doesn’t say anything to prompt conversation from the two of them, he waits for them to speak first. Watching their movements carefully.
“Yoongi…” Taehyung’s voice is soft, pitiful. He hates it when people pity him when they mock him for the reason behind his work. If everyone else had the skill, they’d do it as well wouldn’t they? He doesn’t do anything but nod his head to acknowledge that he’s heard Taehyung’s voice. “Take a break... Please… He’d want you to look after yourself as well…”
His eyes hone in on the cardboard cup holder Namjoon had set down on the desk, usually, he doesn’t allow food and drink in the lab. Along the way, coffee had become a companion, and eventually, it had been the same with cigarettes. He has the whole body, skeleton and almost all the programming finished. But what he needs to be careful is the brain and preservation fluid that comes with it. He shakes them off, he knows how their faces look as he stretches his hands above his head, hearing his back crack as he stands up.
They don’t push him anymore, he hears the door close behind him. He’s alone, with nothing but machinery, computers and wires surrounding him. The battery is lithium charged, he’s built it so the robot will act as a human. When the robot closes their eyes, the same signals are sent to the brain. That all accounts for whether the technology works, if the body chooses to regret or accept the brain.
He stops himself as he reaches for a third cigarette, instead he grabs the half-finished coffee Namjoon had bought him. He brings it to his lips, the mix of bitter liquid and caffeine waking him up just enough to keep going. He has a few more pages of programming to go through. At the end of the table that the skeleton is lying on, is what looks like an MRI machine. Instead of performing a brain scan though, it’ll create fine layers of skin, stretching to cover the limbs and wires.
Yoongi had come up with the idea for it in the midst of trauma, it’s something of his own invention and cost millions. In it’s making though, he’d bought humanity hope. Even if it means the sacrifice of his own happiness, that’s enough. He doesn’t want people to suffer like he did, he’ll keep trying - over and over, until one day, he gets it right.
He will get it right one day. He’s almost there, he can feel success at his fingertips. He can hear his laugh again, his voice, his praise. He can see his smile again, he can feel the forgotten feeling of soft skin underneath his hands. He can experience joy, happiness, excitement and pride all at once. Maybe then that’ll make the bad he’s grown used to go away.
He wonders if it’ll feel the same to see him again, to watch him open his eyes. He wonders if he’s done enough. It’s taken him years to get here, most of his adult life. He doesn’t care though, he’d do anything. Anything and everything to bring him back. That’s what he’s done, in a way he’s sold his soul to the devil and he’d never take it back. Not when he’s this close.
He has a photo, an old polaroid taken when the two of them were together. It’s old, no one uses polaroids anymore. Everyone prefers something more digital, not as heavy. He still has all his old cameras in his apartment though, locked away safely in his apartment. He can’t remember the last time he went home, it’ll be worth it when he finally gets to go back. If this goes as it’s supposed to go, then it should be him. It should be the same person, he doesn’t see any other way it could be.
“You stayed up?” Jimin’s smiling, the corners of his crinkled in the best way, the way that makes Yoongi’s heart melt. He puts the keys down softly on the table, they don’t cause too much noise through the apartment that way. Not that it matters since they’re both awake, but Yoongi’s has noticed that almost all of Jimin’s actions are in good thought. Soft and caring, and maybe just a simple action like that says something about his personality.
“Not like I could sleep in the first place.” Jimin just hums in understanding. He knows that sometimes Yoongi’s depression manifests in different forms. He hasn’t had a good week, he felt like he was drowning in his stress for almost the whole time. Usually, it doesn’t take this form though; usually by the time Jimin’s home he’s been asleep for at least five hours.
It’s times like this that are his favourite though. Jimin finding him to be awake is always a joy because sometimes they fall asleep in each other’s arms. Sometimes they decide to watch a new TV show together, and sometimes they just settle for lazy kisses and soft touches. He loves those the most. He knows he does, the feeling of Jimin’s soft hands pressing against his thighs and belly. The warmth of them, the way they held him so firmly. Jimin’s touches remind him he’s safe, they make him feel safer than anything.
Jimin shimmies out of his work clothes, leaving his shirt and pants in a messy pile next to the couch. For once, Yoongi doesn’t mind the mess. He watches carefully, he shuffles over on the couch. It’s barely big enough to fit the two of them. He doesn’t hate the way Jimin looks at him, with love and affection. He thinks he can see adoration shining through but he isn’t sure. Jimin sits down across from him, his blonde hair outlined by the city light from outside the window. His features are soft, his face bathed partially in shadow.
The next morning Yoongi wakes up to feeling Jimin’s hands carding through his hair. Soft and warm, caring and he just snuggles further into his body. He never wants to leave, he wants to stay. It’d be nice to bury himself in this eternal morning bliss. Jimin smiles at him, sunlight from the windows framing his head as if it’s a halo. It’s perfect he thinks, and he wonders if Jimin knows.
“No.” Jimin stands up, leaving his head to rest against the plush cushions of their shared couch.
“No what?” He reaches his hand out towards Jimin, willing him to come back and envelop him in warmth.
“I’m not pretty, Yoongi.” Jimin’s arms are crossed over his chest and hips are jutting out. He just shrugs, not bothering to argue with his boyfriend. Too tired to argue, would be the correct term.
He doesn’t like to dwell on the past, but he finds himself doing it more often than not. The photos around his lab inspire it mainly. It’s too painful most of the time, but he’d rather bear the cross on his chest. He moves out of his chair, the bones in his spine cracking, stretching out as he moves from his desk chair. He walks over to the body. The programming is all complete, the chemical formula for the right skin texture is loaded onto the machine already. Of course, he’s almost done, it had taken him six years to get here.
He remembers working in a group of people, everyone’s computer’s built by their own hands. His computer unlike everyone else’s had an AMD FD9590FHHKWOF FX-9590 core processor which allowed faster speeds and cooling. People used to think he was a gamer, but that was more for Taehyung and Jungkook than anything else. He rathered the way computers were made, wired and put together. How they came to be, along with science and neurology it had come to be in a strange way.
He feels his heartache, everything overwhelming him even though it’s been six years. The ache has never gone away, had never left him. If anything it had only intensified into something he knew he could never handle. He’d pushed away everyone, his friends and family. The only people left are Namjoon and Taehyung, and even they’re starting to slip away. He doesn’t really care though, the people closest to him always leave. He’s only ever needed one person though, and that had been Jimin. Sweet, caring, loving Jimin who wanted to become a nurse and save lives. Jimin who didn’t care how others thought of him, he was perfect in every way.
Yoongi remembers the way Jimin had smiled when Yoongi had shown him around the small apartment he’d bought himself. Now, whenever he steps foot inside it he feels like the air’s choking him, strangling him. He can feel a nonexistent weight pressing down on his chest and he hates it. The bathroom and sheets still smell like traces of coconut and shea butter, he remembers everything whenever he walks into their shared apartment.
He still remembers where everything goes, how the broken coffee maker hidden under the sink works. He remembers the way he has to press down on the TV remote a little harder than usual and how one of the batteries doesn’t fit just right. He still has Jimin’s makeup and skin care products packed away on his shelves even though they passed the use by date years and years ago. Jimin didn’t really live with him then, he just spent most of his time there. His family never minded, they still try to talk to him every now and then. They ask him about the progress and there are promises floating in the air to show them around the lab. Though he never fulfils them, he doesn’t fulfil many promises anymore.
He hears a knock on the door into his lab, he turns around and sees a familiar face. A smile that reminds him of sunshine and bright red hair that’s almost blinding. He’s dressed in skinny jeans with rips all the way up his thighs, with threads falling out of the sides and a black pullover that has white elastic at the bottom. There’s a black facemask pulled down around his neck. He sends Yoongi a shy wave, it isn’t even night yet.
“I have your usual, one bag of blow.”
His smile deceiving as his eyes fall on Yoongi moving the papers on his desk before finally finding his wallet. He knows Yoongi is a high paying user, usually, he’d swear off this shit but it’s gotten too hard. It hurts to look at Jimin’s face every day, half-constructed on a computer monitor, dead and non-existent.
“You should really get off this shit.”
Hoseok’s voice is laced with concern, there’s a softness hidden away in his eyes. He hesitantly hands the baggie over, it’s a miracle Yoongi hasn’t gotten caught yet.
“Then how would you make money, Seok?”
He deadpans, looking the other man in the eye as he hides the way bag away in the pocket of his jeans. It’s a good question because Yoongi knows he’s probably one of Hoseok’s highest sources of income.
“Other clients, I’m being serious Yoongi, you need to let him rest.”
“I’m almost there, give me a few days.”
“You’re a madman, Yoongi.”
Hoseok leaves him behind, surrounded by nothing, the quietness settling around him. Hoseok’s words don’t affect him, they never have.
He steps out of his own lab, making sure to lock the door. People will do anything to stop this from happening, though the university wouldn’t let it. He’s thankful to them in some ways. He makes his way to the freezers on the other side of the labs, walking past some undergraduate classes tinkering with chemicals and mechanics. He notices Taehyung’s eyes light up just a bit more, and his smile get brighter when he sees Yoongi out of the corner of his eyes.
The tiredness is still in his bones, but for some reason, he feels invigorated. Just the pride in stepping out of his lab for the first time in days. He notices Namjoon on the far side of the lab, finishing off his own project. The linoleum floors are surprisingly clean, the smell of detergent is always fresh in the air. Sometimes he hears the cleaners complain about it at night when he hasn’t passed out on his desk. He doesn’t let them in his lab either, they always try to get in, each night but he locks himself in. He doesn’t even hear his friends approach him, Taehyung throws his arm around his shoulders almost causing him to fall over while Namjoon just walks by his side. The two of them talk and bicker, trying to get him to join their conversation but he shares no interest aside from getting coffee from the small shop across the road.
His hands are both protectively holding the takeaway cup, his body absorbing the heat. There are formulas and coding still running through his mind as he looks at Taehyung’s skin, he knows the exact makeup of it. He knows the exact chemicals needed, the bonds, everything to bind him together. If someone pointed out any part of him, Yoongi would be able to tell them what it’s made from, how it’s made and everything about it.
He notices Taehyung had been saying his name for a while, his lips moving and he can’t help but just nod, pretending as if he’s listening. He can feel his mind slowly devouring itself, caving in as he feels himself getting closer and closer to the end. Yet it still feels so long, it feels too long, the road in front of him is never-ending, stretching on and on further than humanity was ever supposed to reach.
As they walk through the university halls he feels Jimin take his hand, running away, leaving the tour guide behind them. Yoongi grins, he knows his gums are showing and for once he doesn’t mind as they hurtle through the halls of the university, running past students and professors and only once do they stop. Jimin still doesn’t let go of his hand as he talks to someone, Yoongi stays close, feeling anxiety in the pit of his stomach, slowly creeping up on him at the mere thought of looking at someone else.
He didn’t hear what Jimin had asked about, he doesn’t question him though as they run, laughter filling the hallways as people watch on.
As they come to a stop, Yoongi feels Jimin run up behind him and hold his hands over his eyes. He can hear the students and people around them but he stays calm when he feels Jimin’s chest pressed against his back. He’s only a little bit taller but he can imagine Jimin on the tips of his toes just to gain extra height. When Jimin moves his hands away Yoongi doesn’t have any words for him. There in front of the two of them are the science labs, the science labs he’s dreamed of studying in since he was a ten-year-old boy.
“I looked up the tour, it said they wouldn’t come here, so I took it upon myself to bring you.”
His cheeks hurt from smiling as he looks unsurely back at Jimin, his thumbnail immediately going to his mouth as he bites at it. Jimin just nods urging him forward, so he does. He walks into the labs to find people anywhere from nineteen to forty years old and some even older and he can’t help the grin on his face.
There’s an older man, sitting right at the back in front of the biggest lab in the room. It’s got a door and glass panels, a pure white recliner chair that could easily be made into a bed and what looks like some sort of machine in the works next to it. He realises at this moment that this is the lab he wants. The lab he can see himself working in with the light streaming in from the windows, and he can imagine Jimin watching as he works away.
“You’re my little scientist, aren’t you?” Jimin takes his hand, intertwining their fingers and holding onto his hands tightly.
“I’m your scientist Jimin.” Jimin looks at him with so much adoration in his eyes that he can’t help but kiss him, softly and slowly before pulling apart.
He doesn’t have much of an appetite, but he eats to appease Namjoon. He knows that the other is onto him already because it’s not human to stay up for five nights in a row without sleep. He's already had his lab ransacked for something once before. Though, no one had found anything because there’s a loose panel in the linoleum flooring in the very back, that he can easily use to hide everything. His stomach is heavy as he stands to go back to the labs, Namjoon starts talking again then.
“How close do you reckon you are to finishing, Gi?”
The nickname is something that Namjoon had called him since high school, he never really got rid of it and it’s something that he doesn’t necessarily mind. It’s endearing in a way, it’s like how Taehyung calls him Yoon.
“A few days, I’ve got the coding all finished, I need to prep the machine today to start work on the microfibres, I need to finish programming the facial features in which shouldn’t be difficult considering I’m halfway through and then, I just need to make sure I don’t fuck up the last part.”
“Which is?”
Taehyung has a curiosity shining in his eyes, he smiles at that. He ruffles his hair, it’s soft against his touch, Namjoon pays as he continues talking to Taehyung, he doesn’t mind it, for once.
“Connecting the brain to the body, which will take at least two days, though that’s still risky and could cause damage to the exoskeleton, micro and bio fibres and the very top of the spinal cord. I need to organise the wiring and encasing that’ll go around the brain itself, though everything else is programmed.”
Namjoon hums as he nods his head in understanding, he looks towards Yoongi with what looks like pride glinting in his eyes. Yoongi doesn’t know why Namjoon would be proud of him for this. Everyone else in the world seems to want him to give up these days, people call him inhumane and a disgrace.
There are a very few people who support him, but for some reason, the university is still paying for his research. Maybe it’s because people are excited to see technology finally take the next step. He doesn’t understand that though, they’re excited about this for different reasons.
Isn’t he the same though? He looks at his reflection in the black coffee staring back at him. He can barely see himself, but at this moment he feels everything like a wave. He can’t hear Namjoon or Taehyung talking in the background, but can only hear his own thoughts. They remind him of how selfish he truly is, echoing the words of the media.
He elects not to listen to them though, because it’s Jimin he wants. It’s Jimin he needs, otherwise, life isn’t worth living.
Yoongi looks at the screen in front of him, the enter button on the touch screen flashing. He feels the breath leave his lungs and it all nearly becomes too much. Jimin’s genes have been coded into this very computer, his very soul lies in the code. Everything about his love is there and he feels like the floor has been ripped out from under him. His finger is shaking and he looks out the window in front of him to see the scientists in the lab slowly gathering, along with students. He feels his heart stutter in his chest and everything comes to a standstill, he has a microphone attached to his lab coat. This is supposed to be a private affair, but for some reason, the higher-ups had paused all the classes.
It’s frustrating, he’d wanted to do it himself, he wanted to be the first to see his boyfriend again. It’s supposed to be his moment, his time. He looks over the people gathered, gnawing on the inside of his lip. He feels so anxious he could throw up, his fingers are shaking as he brings them up to stretch. He closes his eyes, breathing deeply in and out to calm himself.
When he opens his eyes, the first thing he does is zero on in on the blinking button on his touchscreen. He doesn’t ignore the fast pace of his heart as he taps the button, the machine starting up behind him. He turns around to watch as the mix metal and wires are encased in a cocoon, then he starts talking, his voice barely audible to himself.
“Thank you for coming,” That’s a lie, but they don’t need to know that. “Today, science takes a step further as of now, the exoskeleton and technology that I’ve developed over the past four years are now being encased in a heat controlled environment,” He doesn’t show them the inside of it, instead he activates the small camera he’d put inside to monitor the progress. The audience watches on, as does he, encapsulated by the soft skin slowly forming.
“The skin itself, is a mixture of components that make up our very own, which is why the controlled environment is so important, it acts as the womb does for a human child, but in order to make it more precise, I’ve encoded the DNA so that each and every part is identical to the original body,” He feels tears in his eyes as he remembers the mole on Jimin’s right pinkie finger, he’ll see it again. He’ll get to feel the smooth expanse of his stomach again, it’s nearly too much for him to handle when it’s put together with the crowd in front of him. “Even the face is going to be the exact same, not only will this makeshift womb provide a perfect environment for the skin to develop, it’ll provide the perfect environment for other parts of the body to develop, such as the eyes, the retinae are made by me of course, but the white and cornea will be developed throughout this process, the teeth, tongue and mouth will also be developed throughout this time.” He notices the way everyone’s taking notes, there are cameras outside filming him as he talks. He feels like he’s stuck to the one spot as he looks up at the display on the wall in front of him. “It should take at most ten to twelve hours, if you have any questions, I’ll take them now.”
He watches as the older men snicker at him, raising their hands to bombard him with questions they believe he doesn’t know the answer too. The students who have been here for not even a year look at him with nothing but awe and wonder, yet he’s undeserving of that. He sighs, looking towards one of the men. He’s lithe, his arms wiry and eyes nearly dull and hair thinning, he looks as if he’s in his late fifties. He’s possibly a professor from another university, Yoongi can feel the arrogance coming off of him despite the fact that he’s standing in a glass wall.
“How did you model the machinery to get the right temperature in order to create the perfect environment?”
Yoongi rolls his eyes. He’d expected a challenge from the man, but all he gets is this bullshit question. The technology isn’t new, not at all. He’d just needed a way to expand it, he knows that artificial life has been created before. It had been done with baby animals, such as lambs, mice and rats. He simply decided to upgrade.
“It was simple, you see all I had to do was take previously developed technology used for previous animal births with ectogenesis technology, though we can’t create a human fully yet, it’s too dangerous at the given time so in order to create the environment and womb, I provided the exoskeleton myself, as well as the artificial heart made out of carbon fibres and biotechnology.”
“But how did you develop it? Surely there was some sort of complex progress?”
“All I had to do was the program it correctly through the computer, you see I did a double degree in my time here, studying science, with a masters in neurology and a degree computer science, it took effort, but eventually I was able to combine everything into one.” Yoongi takes a deep breath, feeling his throat close up as he thinks of the final step. “The last step after this will be implanting the brain tissue from the subject, Park Jimin, into the body.”
He brings his arms across his chest, trying to quell the shaking of his fingers. He feels the itch to call Hoseok, he needs something to calm him.
“STOP IT, JUST LET HIM REST YOU SELFISH BASTARD.”
Yoongi’s eyes hone in on the owner of the voice, only to see Jimin’s mother standing there. She looks like shit, her eyes red-rimmed with tears falling down her face and her knuckles white as she bangs against the glass of the wall. His heart aches and he feels his blood go cold.
“Be careful what you say, Ms Park, I’m not doing this just for me.” Yoongi looks at her in the eyes, walking over her and detaches the roving microphone from his lab coat. “He didn’t deserve to die.”
She looks at him through the glass, he wonders if she’d heard him. She doesn’t even look him in the eyes as she walks away. He feels like the spotlight is on him even more now, the group bursts into discussion as they slowly disperse.
Twelve hours is a long time, and Yoongi doesn’t even move an inch from his seat. He watches as the body slowly develops, molecules and atoms slowly fusing together to form the skin, coming together to create a living being. This is it, his life work, it’s taken him six years to get here and to some, to some that may seem like such a little time. To Yoongi though, it feels like an eternity. It’s been an eternity, he feels like he’s been starved until his ribs are showing.
He sighs, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes, relishing in the memories. He’s going to get to hear Jimin’s soft voice again, hear him singing softly to himself. He feels his heart nearly fall out of his chest. He feels weariness finally settling in his bones, lack of sleep finally creeping up on him. He’s been living off of cocaine and coffee for the past nearly two years, getting next to no sleep each night and he can’t remember the last time he was in his own apartment. He’s too afraid to step foot inside. Maybe that’ll change though. He feels his knees and body start to shake, his emotions getting the better of him as he lets out a sob. If this works, if he brings Jimin back his life can finally be normal again, he can finally be happy. Jimin will be back, alive and well, it’s almost too much to fathom. He doesn’t realise he’s started crying until he sees the teardrops darken the material of his jeans. His sobs are quiet as his body curls in on itself, he lifts his knees to his chest, his toes peeking over the edge of the chair.
He cries, pressing his forehead against his knees because he feels like he’s choking. He knows that what Jimin’s mother has said is true - she’s right. He’s selfish, selfish and only thinking about what he needs. Jimin deserves another chance, he needs another chance because he was gone too young. It’s just not fair, it’s never been fair. He just wants his love back, he wants his boyfriend - his soulmate.
Other people get to have their whole lives with theirs. He just wants that too, the opportunity to be with Jimin for the rest of his life.
Is that too much to ask?
He doesn’t go home, he ends up staying there for the night his heart racing a little bit faster every time the loading bar increases by only one percent.
He’s asleep when he hears something, his head jerks upwards and his eyes snap open. He doesn’t know how much sleep he’d gotten, but he’s too wired by adrenaline when he says the loading bar glaring at him from the screen. It’s glowing a bright green, the words next to it flashing over and over. His breath hitches and he can barely bring himself to believe it.
He barely has enough sleep, he can feel how slow and sluggish his limbs are but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t look up at the camera, wanting to see Jimin for the first time after.
He can feel everything around him, the air becoming stiffer as he gets out of his chair. He stretches out his back, hearing it crack in multiple places and sighing at the relief. He wants to get started on the brain because then he’ll have Jimin back in two days - less if he works hard enough.
He knows that starting this process, and finishing it, will be the hardest part. It’s like putting together broken pieces of fine china, not wanting any cracks to show in the end. If he doesn’t get the smallest thing right, then it’s game over. He gathers his things, taking a deep breath as he leaves his lab coat on the hook just at the door of his lab. He swaps it for his leather jacket and riding gloves before leaving the lab behind him to go back to his apartment.
He walks in this morning to see people whispering, he just rolls his eyes. He doesn’t care that they’re all watching him, and he doesn’t care that it’s nearly three in the afternoon. He hadn’t actually meant to sleep for that long but his body had shut down, he’d woken up to his alarm to drowsy to even move. His legs sore and eyes swollen. Namjoon and Taehyung are the only people who send him thumbs up and smiles, proud of him for actually looking after himself for once.
He doesn’t actually remember the last time he’d been home.
He feels overcome with something as he looks at Jimin, he looks as if he’s just sleeping. His eyelashes are resting softly against his cheeks, his cheeks themselves are filled with colour. His skin is honeyed and his hair is as soft as Yoongi remembers it. He can’t believe it, his eyes are glossy as he takes in the sight before him. He reaches out to hold Jimin’s hand, his skin soft to the touch as if he isn’t made of metal and wires, as if he’s human. He doesn’t want to let go, but he has to move back to his desk. He taps the screen with shaking fingers, making sure all the codes are correct - he knows they are. His hands are shaking and he can see people gathering outside, Namjoon and Taehyung at the very front.
He hasn’t slept in thirty-two hours, he’d kept count as silly as it is. In minutes, Jimin will come back to him. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath before he presses the activate button at the very bottom of the code.
Power surges through the facility lights blowing out in the labs. Yoongi feels tears falling down as he wipes them away, running over to Jimin. He takes Jimin’s hand, despite the dangers. He waits, with fingers crossed. He shakes Jimin’s hand, bringing it up to his lips, then bringing it to his forehead.
Jimin’s fingers twitch and he lets out a sob. He stays there, frozen with tears slowly rolling down his face, leaving wet patches on his jeans. He opens his eyes in time to see Jimin open his eyes, they widen in confusion, until he sees Yoongi.
He moves his hand so it cups his cheek. His eyes going into crescents as he smiles, trying to sit up. He looks around, there’s a light in his eyes when he realises just where he is. Yoongi presses his forehead against Jimin’s, he can barely bring himself to believe that Jimin’s here. He can hear applause from outside.
“I died, Yoongi.”
Yoongi feels his heart ripped in two at the words as he nods. Jimin’s voice is as soft as he remembers, soothing him as he cries softly.
“Y-You did.”
“You brought me back?”
Yoongi can’t even bring himself to reply, he breaks down then. Sobbing quietly to himself, he thought Jimin was gone forever. He never expected him to come back.
“You’re still my little scientist.”
“Y-Yeah Jiminnie, I’m your scientist.” Yoongi helps Jimin sit up, trying to control himself - to stop his legs from giving out. “I’m yours forever, you know that.”
Jimin runs his hand through his hair, and Yoongi realises that he’d never take back a day over the past four years.
Jimin’s with him now, and that’s all that matters.