Work Text:
Namjoon found himself lost in thought more often than not. Today happened to be one of those days where dark memories seeped their way through his subconscious to the front of his mind, making it difficult to ignore.
"You mean he never came home last night?" Yoongi asked, worry evident in his voice.
"He texted me that he was on his way home—so I fell asleep, but when I woke up he wasn't anywhere!" Taehyung stammered, voice rising with panic.
"Are we sure he didn't come home last night and just went back out this morning?" Jin thought aloud.
"It's not like him. He would tell one of us." Jimin answered.
With that statement a decision was unanimously made.
"I'll call the managers." Namjoon said, pulling his phone from his pocket. "But for now, the rest of you eat breakfast."
That's where they all sat now, eating pancakes and eggs around the table. It was almost lunch time—but everyone had slept in. Almost three years since that terrifying morning, and Namjoon is thankful each and every day that he needs to set the table for seven, not six.
They hadn't realized at the time the trouble that their youngest was in, and by the time they did, the nightmare had only just begun.
He sets his gaze over Jungkook, where he's giggling at something that Taehyung was whispering to him.
When he catches sight of the pale, slightly raised scars encircling the younger's wrists, he can't help the ugly and unsettling images that come to mind.
Jungkook all alone, hands bound cruelly with rope or chains, tears streaming down his face.
He's ok. He's safe. He's here.
Bruises scattered across his exhausted body, head slumped over praying for his hyungs to save him.
We saved him. He'll never be taken away from us again.
What if we hadn't?
We did.
But Namjoon's heart still breaks every time Jungkook gets that distant, haunted look in his eyes, even though he snaps out of it as soon as his hyung asks if hes alright, and flashes a warm smile, saying something along the lines of of course, hyung.
Jungkook doesn't often talk about what happened all those years ago, though they've all woken up to his anguished cries, haunted by whatever disturbing memories have resurfaced whilst he's asleep.
one of them is always there, but most of the time it's their leader that gently cards his hand through the maknae's hair, mumbling reassurances and assuring him that's he's safe. He feels it's his responsibility.
"Shhh, shh...it's just a dream Jungkook-ah, you're safe, hyungs got you."
"Hyung." he sobs when he finally wakes up, clinging to him whilst he holds him to his chest, letting the younger listen to his heartbeat to assure him that this was real, he was here, and he was safe. He'll always keep him safe, since he failed to do so when he needed to most.
In different ways, the rapper was also haunted by the horrid events the younger had been through.
The guilt, the voice emerging from deep inside his consciousness telling him that it was all your fault.
What kind of leader was he that he'd allow for something like this to happen to their youngest? What could he have done differently to change what had happened? If only it had been him—if only he was the one that had been taken, tortured, humiliated, scarred. He would have taken his place in a second, without a moment's hesitation.
Of course, Jin and Yoongi would scold him for thinking this way. It was no one's fault but the bastard that had taken him away.
For 29 days Jungkook was missing, the only time seeing him being on the live-feed call that they had received, where they were told the price of getting their maknae back.
The man never showed his face, but behind the mask Namjoon saw eyes full of malice and cruelty. It chilled his core and left him shaking, a single, frustrated and hopeless tear slipping from his eye as the rough voice came from the laptop speaker.
"I suppose pretty boy should be awake for this." Beside him he felt Hoseok shiver at the nickname bestowed on the maknae.
The first slap that rang through the heavy silence of the room brought forth no reaction from jungkook, even as his head was whipped harshly to the side.
Everyone in the room held their breath. Why wasn't he waking up?
"I know you're awake, brat." The man growled, grabbing a fistful of dark hair and yanking his head
back.
"P-please." A small voice choked out, barely audible because of the cloth gag tied tightly around his head.
"Ah ah, you know what I've told you about begging, or have you forgotten?"
After a few moments of silence, the man let go of his hair but punched him across the jaw—once, twice, three times.
And all they could do was watch.
Watch as bloodied fingers wrapped around his throat, watch a heavy black boot being dug into his rib cage.
At this point, Jin had steered Taehyung and Jimin away from the room. There was no need for them to see this.
"Don't you want to say something to your hyungs?" He mocked, knowing Jungkook would be unable to speak through the gag.
Namjoon seethed.
"Hmph. Guess not."
He pulled at the boy's strands again and yanked his head up.
"Let's say...10 billion won."
Clenching his eyes, he attempted to blur out the memory. He didn't want to remember, how helpless he felt watching Jungkook, who was so young—being beaten and mocked right in front of his eyes.
Without thinking, he sat up and made his way across the dorm to Jungkook's room. Taehyung and Jimin were sleeping soundly in their bunks, while the maknae was on the twin bed next to them.
He looked peaceful. RM took a moment to gaze at his face, skin smooth and unblemished. Nothing like when they had finally found him, bruises covering his entire body like angry storm clouds, as if Jungkook was a canvas and his kidnapper was a sadistic artist, only finally letting him go when his masterpiece was complete. Swallowing the nausea that climbed up his throat, he made his way over and climbed into bed with his youngest brother.
Immediately, Jungkook shifted around and sleepily opened his eyes, humming in contentment when he saw Namjoon had crawled into bed with him. He snuggled up close to the rapper's chest, and with a long sigh, Namjoon wrapped his arms around the younger, pulling him close and feeling the tension leave his body.
After a few moments of comfortable silence, Jungkook's voice spoke softly through the dark.
"What's wrong, hyung?"
Namjoon looked down and saw big, innocent brown eyes looking up at him in concern. He hadn't even noticed the tears that slipped from his eyes.
Quickly wiping them, he put on a smile.
"Nothing Kook-ah, just let me hold you."
Jungkook frowned but pressed himself closer, gently grasping the older's shirt. He felt the arms around him tighten slightly, and he relished the warmth that the shelter of his hyung's embrace provided.
If he felt the tears dripping from Namjoon's face, he didn't say anything. Though his hyung's pain hurt him deeply, he knew the best comfort to him was to lay still in his arms—allow himself to be protected, held, cared for. He knew the guilt that Namjoon carried, and though he's told him on multiple occasions that it wasn't anyone's fault—if anything Jungkook blamed himself—he knew that Namjoon would always harbor this guilt, practically unreachable.
It was so deep rooted, he knew it wouldn't be resolved from a few simple words. But over time he would heal and lift the weight off of his shoulders, just as the leader and the other hyungs had done for him.
He allowed his wrist to be gently cradled by the rapper, warm lips lightly pressing to the scars left behind from his restraints. RM's breathe was shaky.
"I just want to protect you." He whispered weakly. Hearing the man he looked up to's voice coated with such helplessness and pain made his eyes sting.
"I'm ok, Namjoon-hyung." He replied softly, tracing patterns on the older's shirt.
Namjoon sighed again and pet the back of Jungkook's head and gently keeping it against his chest.
"I know, baby. Sometimes I just need to see it for myself."
Cautiously, Jungkook took hold of Namjoon's hand and placed it right over his heart.
The older felt the strong, steady rhythm beneath his trembling fingertips, and felt instantly grounded. His own heart swelled with an overwhelming emotion, and he kept his hand over the younger's heartbeat, Jungkook's hand over top of his.
His fingers found a weak pulse beneath the bruised skin of Jungkook's throat.
"Call an ambulance." He commanded steadily, though his thoughts raced and adrenaline spiked.
Please be ok. Please be ok. Please be ok.
"Hyung—he wants you to try and wake him up.."
"Oh god, please Kookie."
"Tell them to hurry."
The panicked voices of his band members only sent him further down a rabbit hole...
What if he doesn't make it?
How would he explain it to his parents?
To army?
"Alright Kook-ah, time to wake up buddy." The waver in his voice betrayed the strong leader front he was attempting to display.
"Cmon sweetheart, open your eyes for hyung." Jin encouraged, lightly tapping his cheek.
Slowly, painfully, Jungkook's eyes cracked open, a distant, glossed over gaze looking at the space behind the concerned faces of his brothers.
A blur of flashing lights and latex gloves floods the room.
"He's gonna be ok, right? Hyung, tell me, he's gonna be ok right??"
The warmth of the maknae's breath against his neck frees him from the memory.
He felt strong in his arms, his bones unbroken, his skin smooth, his belly full of food.
The protectiveness was practically radiating off of Namjoon in waves, with spikes of possessiveness seeping through.
No one could touch Jungkook. Not unless it was to give him affection and love, which he deserved way more than the entire world could possibly offer.
He's theirs. Only theirs.
To hell with anyone who had the intention of hurting him. To hell with anyone who dared lay a hand on any of his members.
He was so proud of all of them.
But the admiration he had for Jungkook always thrummed against his chest, a warm glow stowed deeply within him, a space that only their maknae held.
He'd been through so much. But he's still here with them; smiling, laughing, and working as hard as ever.
"I'm proud of you every day." He murmured into the younger's dark hair.
"We all are. I hope you know that."
Jungkook replied by snuggling closer, and Namjoon allowed a smile to grace his lips.
Sinking down further himself, Namjoon allowed himself to doze off, his final thought being that yes, Jungkook had been severely damaged.
But he wasn't broken, no, he was far from it.
Nothing could break the spirit of Jeon Jungkook. Nothing could break the bond of BTS.