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Jungkook is lying on the floor.
He isn’t moving. There’s a cut on his head, from his brow and disappearing into his hairline. The blood is pooling thick down into his eye socket, slinking down into his ear when his head is turned.
His eye is pried open, and the harsh white of his eye stands out against the red. His eyes are rolled back, but they flicker when the light is held over them.
Jungkook jerks, a choked whine working through his lips. The crowd flinches with him. He rolls onto his side, his hand coming up to his head, fingers pressing into the cut. It’s almost comical how he looks so confused while everyone stands around him in horror.
He rejects the arm that wraps around his waist, trying to hoist him up. He pushes at them, even as they reassure him that everything is okay. He cries when he puts weight on his left foot, and Yoongi is quick to tell that to the managers who are bracing him.
Jungkook looks around the room, still not sure of what he’s seeing. His eyes are glassy, unfocused. One is squinting shut with the blood in his waterline, but the other is wide open. Scared, as he meets Namjoon’s eyes among the crowd, and desperate when he mumbles for his “hyung” and tries to get away from the arms pulling him in the other direction.
Namjoon is ashamed of how he flinched. He had immediately looked away when they found him, paralyzed to the ground, leaving it to Seokjin who had immediately dropped down beside Jungkook, with a watery unbelieving laugh and a small “Kook, what-” . When the commotion rose and the managers rushed over, Seokjin was pushed away, even as he fought to stay.
Now, Seokjin stood next to Namjoon, chewing anxiously on his nails as he watched them take Jungkook away. Everyone was avoiding looking at the smear of blood on the wood flooring, but Hoseok was the first to look over and eloquently say, “That- That’s a lot.”
Jimin looked empty, as though he weren’t even thinking.
There was blood on his palms and red smeared on his jeans, where he had gently held Jungkook’s head in his lap. When the managers had opened Jungkook’s eyes and checked his vitals, Jimin was holding the boy’s face in his hands, brushing his thumb gently over the apples of his cheeks and whispering to him that everything would be alright.
Jimin had fought hard when they were separated. It took a lot of convincing, on Yoongi’s part, for him to let Jungkook go.
Taehyung tugged at Hoseok’s sleeve, leaning close to his ear, and asked if Jungkook was going to be okay. Hoseok threw an arm around Taehyung’s waist, and pulled him close, giving him a confident “He’ll be fine, you know he will” - even if he wasn’t quite sure of it himself.
The six stood there for a while, drifting closer and closer as the crowd dispersed and left them at the bottom of the stairwell, alone. Their noona came, pale as a ghost but trying to appear calm, and said she would give them a ride to the hospital.
Yoongi sat in the front beside her, but didn’t speak. He didn’t put his seat-belt on, and his hand remained hovered over the door handle, ready to get out as soon as they pulled up outside. His worry translated into anger, and his scowl tensed the air. Taehyung reached around the squeezed his arm, hooking his chin over Yoongi’s arm, and reminding him that Jungkook would be okay.
As high-strung as Yoongi could be, he’s still weak to Taehyung, and he sunk back with a sigh.
Jungkook had fallen down the stairs.
It cancelled out their first fear - the idea that someone had pushed Jungkook. It would have been a whole different situation if they had to deal with that, find out why they did it and find the person, all while managing to hold back Hoseok from punching his teeth in.
But, it added a new fear. When they watched the footage forwarded to their manager’s phone and saw that Jungkook hadn’t tripped - he had fainted.
The video had Jungkook take a step down, before his body was swaying and his hand was blindly reaching out for the railing, but not before he was falling. There was no audio, but they could hear when his head hit the wood, and they could see how he landed on his ankle.
Taehyung asked if Jungkook had ever fainted before, and if it was normal. Namjoon shook his head. Seokjin said that Jungkook was sick last week, but seemed fine today. Jimin asked the manager if he knew anything, and the manager told them what the staff was suspecting.
The man got up when his phone began to ring, leaving the boys with a new fear: Jungkook wasn’t eating.
He was lighter than a feather, and he was getting smaller each day. Smaller portions, smaller meals. Working longer, sleeping less. Getting sick too much, constant headaches. Exhaustion.
It wasn’t clear before, but now it was obvious. The guilt weight heavy over each of their shoulders, as they sunk into the plastic seats, different mixtures of horror and worry in their expressions. They just wished that it didn’t take falling down the stairs and putting a crack in his skull for the boys to realize that something was wrong.
Seokjin offered to go buy snacks from the vending machine, and Yoongi took a ten from Namjoon to go buy some drinks from the cafeteria. None of them were going anywhere until they saw Jungkook.
The first thing Jungkook did when he woke up, in a hospital bed with a rerun of Good Sunday playing on the TV and staples in his head, is laugh. He laughed, and he winced, holding a hand up to his head, where he felt the bandage.
He looked at Namjoon, who was sitting beside him - in a plastic chair with a large English book open in his lap, breezing through pages.
“Hyung?” Jungkook’s voice was so small, so childlike, but raspy and so familiar.
“Hey,” Namjoon greeted, struggling to give a convincing smile.
Jungkook shifted, looking around the room. The curtains were drawn - Taehyung’s orders, the boy said too much light would hurt Jungkook’s head too much. There were rows of soda cans and trash around the room, and a few stray blankets thrown over the couch. Jungkook wondered how many slept there at once.
“How long have I…” Jungkook paused, his eyes landed on his ankle, covered by the quilt but clearly bulky from a cast. He swallowed, and looked back to Namjoon.
Namjoon shook his head, “Just for the night. Concussion didn’t knock you out too hard.”
“Concussion?”
“Well, a split in your head. Enough to give us a heart attack.”
Jungkook nodded. His fingers twisted in the blankets, pulling at the loose string of the quilt he recognized from home - it was the first quilt Taehyung made without his grandmother’s help, and he was very proud of it, even if there were a few chunks missing here and there.
“Where are the others?” He asked.
“Seokjin convinced them for a walk. Jimin hadn’t moved since he got here, and Yoongi wanted to get actual coffee and not hospital cafeteria coffee. The others went with them - it was my shift to wait here with you.” Namjoon answered, smiling. He closed his book, tossing it onto the seat cushion beside him.
When Namjoon leaned forward, his hand came up onto the bed. It laid awkwardly next to Jungkook’s, as though he were unsure if he should grab his or not. He drummed his fingers, and gave a tight-lipped smile, “How are you feeling, then?”
“Okay.” Jungkook tried to smile back. His head was starting to ache. He was glad most the lights were off. “Should- Should I be embarrassed?”
Namjoon chuckled fondly. “Maybe a little.”
“Should I be nervous?”
The corner of Namjoon’s lips quirked, and this time he did grab Jungkook’s hand. His palm was warm. “We’ll talk later about that, okay? It’s just good that you’re awake.”
Jungkook nodded. Namjoon stood up and released his hand, but before he could step away, Jungkook blurted out a quiet “I’m sorry” .
Namjoon’s paused, and his hand raised to hover over Jungkook’s head, stopping himself from ruffling the boy’s hair, like he were used to. Instead, he dropped it to Jungkook’s shoulder, and squeezed.
The Talk didn’t come from his hyungs, as Jungkook had planned, but his managers. He knew they were there to scold him when they asked the others to leave so they could speak in private.
Jimin was ready to argue, from his place beside Jungkook, but when Seokjin laid a hand over Jimin’s arm, warning him before he could open his mouth, Jimin forced himself to stay quiet.
The six left the room - moody, if they were Yoongi and had been pulled from his variety show marathon.
The Talk lasted for a quick thirty minutes. It was short, and sweet, but when Hoseok cracked open the door and peeked in, Jungkook was using his sleeve to wipe under his eyes. Hoseok got mad, knowing they upset Jungkook like that. There were better ways to approach the situation, other than by telling Jungkook to get his act together or the company will get involved.
“They think I’ve been starving myself,” Jungkook tells them, as the boys settle back into their spots. Yoongi hits mute on the TV, and listens. “I haven’t- not on, not on purpose.”
“It’s okay, Jungkook.” Jimin tries, with his hands holding Jungkook’s, lips over his knuckles.
“How is it not on purpose? I don’t think I need to explain to you that people need food to function, Kook.” Seokjin says. Not trying to be the mean one, but unable to sit here and hear the excuses - especially not after finding Jungkook like that. All that blood; Seokjin still can see it on his hands, even after scrubbing them clean for an hour.
“I just forget .” Jungkook whispers, sounding small again. “It’s hard. I’m sorry .”
“You forgot?” Seokjin parroted.
Jungkook huffed, as he struggled to find the right words. His eyes were starting to water from all the questions, overwhelmed. “I can’t- it’s like, I… I never had an appetite.”
“Why didn’t you come to us about it?” Namjoon asked, “You know that we’ll always support you.”
“I don’t know, I just- I didn’t think it mattered.” Jungkook’s words shook, wobbled. “I tried taking care of it myself-”
“Obviously not, you fainted-” Seokjin argued.
“I did try! I promise. I, I noticed I was losing a lot of weight. And I tried to gain it back so I forced myself to eat a lot the other night but it just made me feel sick. My stomach hurt really bad, like- like stabbing pains.” Jungkook made stabbing motions at his stomach, eyes pleading as he looked at Seokjin, “I promise, I didn’t mean for it to get like this. It just happened.”
“What about when we ate together?” Namjoon asked, effectively cutting off Seokjin, who looked like he would start yelling. “You always ate then.”
Jungkook laughed a bit, despite himself, in the absurdity of it all, “I wasn’t making myself throw up, if that’s what you’re hinting at. I did eat, I do eat when it’s us. And I don’t purposely mean not to, it’s just that, you know.”
Yoongi watches Jungkook, as the younger’s sleeve comes up to wipe under his nose. He sees how he is crying, hands shaking from the confrontations, nervous and afraid.
The younger looks too vulnerable, in that bed, wrapped up like that. Yoongi cuts off Namjoon, who was about to ask another question, “Alright, that’s enough. Quit grilling him, we’ll finish this later.”
Jungkook looked at Yoongi, looking relieved. Yoongi smiled.
Taehyung quickly snatched the remote from Yoongi when the older was distracted. He scooted far out of reach than Yoongi was willing to go, and clicked off the channel. “Let’s watch a movie. I’m bored.” He clicked through the purchase movies, looking at options. “Kookie? You pick since it’s your room.”
Taehyung glanced back and gave Jungkook an encouraging smile.
Jungkook stared, he was starting to look better. Then he smiled, lips curling up in an impish grin, “Werewolf Boy.”
Yoongi immediately groaned, dropping his head back against the arm of the couch with a loud thump.
They left the hospital after two days, once the doctors had given Jungkook enough fluids and meals that his levels were starting to grow again. He was still too skinny, but there was color in his cheeks now.
Their manager was handed the pain medications, instructions on replacing and cleaning the head wound, and a specific meal plan set out for the span of a month to help balance Jungkook’s body. The meals were fatty, hearty, big meals, well-rounded with enough vegetables that the 20-year-old maknae would still turn his nose up at.
That night, Seokjin was following the recipe of the first meal, taking handfuls of things out of the cabinets. On the stool next to the counter, Jungkook watched.
As the meat was cooking in the pan, and Seokjin was busy chopping up vegetables across from Jungkook, humming softly to himself, Jungkook suddenly felt a wave of guilt. His hyungs had order take-out, but Seokjin was still here in the kitchen making food that only had enough portion for Jungkook.
He was wasting his hyung’s time. “I’m sorry.”
Seokjin paused, glancing up from the cutting board. “For what, Kookie?” He could hear the thump as Jungkook kicked his boot cast against the counter.
Jungkook wrung his fingers together in his sweatshirt. The guilt was heavy. “For making you do this.”
Seokjin laughed, and Jungkook flinched. The sound was fond, however, not mocking. When Seokjin looked at Jungkook, his eyes were softened, “You’re not making me do anything.”
“But you-” Jungkook gestured at all the food, and the take-out containers stacked on the counter the others had yet to eat. Seokjin insisted he make Jungkook’s food first, and his stare was enough to keep the others from starting to eat without him. “I should be the one doing this, it’s my fault-”
“But would you?” Seokjin asked, shaking his head, “No, you wouldn’t.”
Jungkook’s eyes burned, “Hyung-”
Seokjin sighed, “Jungkook, don’t lie to me. I’m not trying to baby you, but you wouldn’t be in here cooking all this for yourself. I’m here because I want to see you get better, okay? I want to help you. You are not forcing me to do anything.”
Jungkook sniffed, sleeve coming up to his eyes. He sighed, heavy. “I still feel bad.”
Seokjin watched him. “Here, come over here. Help me chop these up.”
Jungkook handled the knife a bit better than Namjoon does, but he diced the vegetables slow, precisely and carefully. Seokjin felt like a mother watching her child act grown-up - fond, and amused.
Then Seokjin reached over and pinched Jungkook’s arm. Jungkook yelped, “Hyung!”
“And this is not your fault. Do not let me catch you saying that again.”
It had been a week.
The meal plans were helping, Jungkook was gaining some weight back. Not nearly enough yet, but there was visibly progress, and it sparked pride in each of his hyungs, who were watching him get better.
Yoongi bought a white-board from the convenience store, where Jungkook was to told to list everything he ate that day. Yoongi said that if he was happy with what Jungkook wrote, Yoongi would buy Jungkook some chocolate from the corner shop. But Yoongi was buying him a treat almost everyday.
But Jungkook deserves it, is what Yoongi told Seokjin when the older gave him a look, after spotting Jungkook gnawing at a chocolate bar.
Jungkook’s ankle was healing like normal. The boy despised his boot cast, claimed it were an “anchor”.
The cut in his head was getting better, slow as ever, but it wasn’t bleeding anymore and it was starting to heal over. It was still gross to look at, and the only one who could deal with it with no squirming or gagging was Jimin.
But, this night, Jimin was still out at vocal practice, and Jungkook was picking at the edges of his bandage, saying that it was starting to rub. And it hurt.
Hoseok immediately volunteered to help, without thinking, and despite how squeamish he could get.
It wasn’t as bad as Hoseok had though. He expected some pus filled, ripped open cut in the maknae’s head, a window to his muscle and bone. Hoseok was already starting to feel sick, as he peeled back the bandage. Instead of muscle and bone, in it’s place, there was a healing scar.
Jagged and obvious, starting from his left eyebrow and disappearing into his hair. It wasn’t going to be a scar that make-up could cover, and it wasn’t going to heal pretty.
But when Jungkook asked him, “Hyung, is it ugly?” - Hoseok swallowed, and he grinned, and he lied.
He said it wasn’t, said it looked cool and handsome. Like Jungkook were some secret agent.
Jungkook smiled, bigger than he had in this week. His eyes crinkled and his cheeks turned into rosy apples almost as red as the scar on his forehead, but at that moment Hoseok decided that it wasn’t a lie. Jungkook didn’t look ugly.
It would take a lot of time to get used to. Hoseok would still look at the scar and be reminded of how they found him. He threw up for an hour once he got into the bathroom, thinking of all that blood.
It would take a long time. The scar isn’t beautiful, but Jungkook is. And Hoseok will never let the boy think he isn’t because of it.
The first time Jungkook went public after what happened was nearly a month later, once Jungkook’s cast was off and once his scar could be mostly covered up with his bangs, and it was scheduled by the staff.
It was a promotion event. An interview. Jungkook was told to sit in the back, to avoid too much attention, and he was told to keep his interest low - not talking, only reacting.
The interviewer was told specifically to not ask about Jungkook’s month absence.
Taehyung had held his hand as they walked onto the stage. Jungkook still had a slight limp, but he hid it well. Taehyung waved at the fans, smiled at the cameras, and Jungkook tried to blend in.
When they sat down, Taehyung kept his hold on Jungkook’s hand, as it was hidden by the backs of the others sitting in front of them. Yoongi was on Taehyung’s other side, effectively blocking the view of their hands from the audience.
Jungkook kept a low-profile. Just like management had told him too. But the fans still got worried, and they still noticed.
When they got home, it was trending. Zeroed in pictures of the cut under his hair, fans making outlandish conclusions and theories. Suicide, a fight - someone even tried to claim that one of his hyungs had hit him.
Jungkook was trending. For the wrong reasons, and it was everything that wasn’t supposed to happen
Namjoon’s phone rang almost as soon as they walked through their front door. It was their manager.
Jungkook had watched the call, trying to piece together what they were saying. When Namjoon’s eyes landed on Jungkook, Jungkook knew it was about him.
The boy stepped away, suddenly feeling too overwhelmed. He was crying, but they were frustrated tears. He was scared, but it was for his hyungs who might get in trouble with him. He got into bed and curled up, plugging in his earbuds and hoping to drown out the thoughts in his head.
He drifted away, not even realizing he had fallen asleep, when a body got into bed next to him. Jimin pressed against his back, arms slinking around Jungkook’s waist, and he set a kiss against the back of his neck. Jungkook couldn’t hear him, but he knew Jimin had whispered something to him.
Jungkook sighed, shaky and rough. “I’m sorry.”
Jimin held him tighter, squeezing him.
The company spoke out about the rumors, finally addressing the month absence for anything other than it being a “personal matter”. They said that Jungkook had taken a break for his health, and he recovered enough to continue promotions now. And they said that the scar under his hair was from an accident in rehearsal, and that it wasn't as serious as it looked.
Fans were telling Jungkook to get better, trending #GetWellSoonJungkook and #WeLoveYouJungkook - Taehyung had proudly shoved the phone in Jungkook’s face, showing the boy while he was eating. It was another meal Seokjin made for him, but Jungkook helped.
Jungkook smiled, cheeks full of food.
Taehyung stole a bite of his noodles, darting away before Jungkook could swipe at him.
The first time Jungkook was back in the practice room, he couldn’t stop smiling.
He was smiling even when he stumbled a bit when Hoseok was showing him the steps to the new choreography they were working on. He smiled even when he tripped on his foot and bumped into Namjoon, who immediately tripped into Seokjin, who yelped and spilled water on himself.
He smiled even though the room was too hot and they were all sweaty.
During their break, he quickly drank the water that Yoongi shoved into his face, before running back to the floor, going through the steps again. He was giddy, like a child during Christmas, and his hyungs watched from the floor, smiling back at him.