Chapter Text
“Just one, Park Jimin,” Yoongi says, pointing strictly, as Jimin giggles and sets out four glasses beside the bottle of soju. “I yearn for my bed. I need it. I just came to make sure you goblins were actually eating your dinner.”
“Just one, just one, promise!” Jimin laughs, nodding fast enough to set his damp post-shower hair flying.
“Mmv cusshh wuu errung dunnuh!!” Jungkook protests through an enormous mouthful of noodles, giving Yoongi a disbelieving look over his bowl and chopsticks.
“Bunny, you’re gonna choke!!” Taehyung laughs, emerging from the bathroom with a towel around his hips. “Nobody’s gonna take it from you!”
“Yah, I wasn’t referring to you, Kook-ah,” Yoongi drawls, taking the glass Jimin pours him with a nod. “A rational person wouldn’t even have expected to find you here. Tell hyung the truth, did you already eat a whole dinner in your own room with Joonie and Seokjin-hyung before you came here?”
“No no, he’s been here since we got back!” Jimin laughs, passing a glass to Jungkook too. “He carried me to the car after the encore and came straight up with us!”
As Taehyung opens his mouth, stepping in close to take the third glass from Jimin there’s the sound of a swipe, and a quiet beep, and the hotel room door suddenly swings open. There’s the briefest pause as a man appears, tall and thin, dressed in black, and his terrible, furious eyes sweep the room - and land on Taehyung and Jimin standing together. The man bursts into motion, throwing himself forward to cross the room, reaching with one hand and raising the other above his head with an unmistakable ring of metal —
In the instant Yoongi sees an unfamiliar silhouette, not a member, inside the room, time seems to slow down. He pushes Jimin behind him automatically but that’s not enough, there are three of his babies to protect in this room, so he launches himself forward, flinging the glass in his hand at the figure and then colliding with him himself, trying to shove him back, away from his members.
The man startles as the soju splashes in his eyes and he lets out a feral, terrifying roar of anger as Yoongi’s momentum and strength knock him back. He’s swearing, his hand fisting in the back of Yoongi’s hoodie to try to pull him off - and then pain, searing, down the length of Yoongi’s arm as the man’s knife slices haphazardly into his skin.
“Get back!” Yoongi screams over his shoulder, bracing his feet and shoving into the man with his good shoulder.
He can hear Taehyung yelling and Jimin babbling something but he can’t concentrate on anything but forcing the attacker back inch by inch towards the door.
“Stupid - fucking kid!” the man is growling.
His hand grapples for Yoongi’s throat and face - there’s another hot slash across his thigh - his side - the man staggers hard against the doorframe - and something seems to tear, hot and vicious, in Yoongi’s stomach. Jungkook screams, but all Yoongi manages is a gasp before one of his knees buckles.
“No!” comes a shout from behind him.
“Hyung!”
Yoongi grasps for the door, frustrated by how slippery it is, and tries desperately to shut it against the attacker. Nothing else matters - the pain, the yelling, the looming black sparks in his vision - he just needs to close this fucking door.
The pain intensifies, another hot slash across his side, before he’s hit in the back by a mess of bodies. Hands - Jimin’s hands - grab him and drag him back, and he hears a roar and a crack as Jungkook throws a punch.
SLAM. Click.
“No! Jungkook-ah!” Yoongi gasps. He tries to break free of Jimin to make sure Jungkook is okay, but somehow he’s just colliding with the carpet instead. “Fuck...!”
“What if he--”
“My h-hyung is bleeding, please, I think he was s-stabbed!”
“Hyungs?”
“I’ll-- one sec-- one sec--nnh!”
He hears a door handle rattling, a panicked hand scrabbling at the lock. Yoongi gasps in terror, grasping desperately at Jimin, trying to get back up, but the pain spikes into nauseating dizziness.
“No no no no no!” Jimin gasps, dropping the phone and grabbing Yoongi instead to ease him gingerly onto his back. His small hands are shaking but careful on his shoulders, his eyes like saucers, the only steady point as the room spins. “Don’t try to get up, hyungnim!”
Yoongi blinks up at Jimin as he sinks onto his back, his long hands grabbing weakly at the worst pain, the red hot throbbing in his stomach.
“Min-ah...” he rasps, his voice not obeying him like it should. “Are you safe? Are you... Are you all...?”
“Everyone’s s-safe, hyungnim,” Jimin says, his voice shaking as he nods with desperate fervour. “Hyungnim saved us...”
Jimin looks down to Yoongi’s hands and shudders, reaching out to press his hands to Yoongi’s stomach. Yoongi’s black hoodie is blacker there, a thick gloss of blood soaking the fabric. As soon as he presses, balling his small hands around the fabric, the pain spikes viciously and Yoongi cries out.
“Hyungnim saved us!” Jimin repeats, his voice high and scared.
“F-fuck...” Yoongi gasps, but he clings to Jimin’s words. Jimin is safe, the kids are safe, he didn’t fuck this up. He’ll take the pain.
“Hyung? Hyung!” Taehyung is saying somewhere. “Lock your front door, hyung, bolt it! Is Hobi-hyung there too?”
“Help’s coming,” Jimin says to Yoongi, glancing to his phone on the floor and tossing his head to Jungkook. “Jungkookie, talk to them, please! Tell them to hurry! Help’s coming,” he says again, returning his gaze to Yoongi. His dark eyes are huge, and wet with tears. “Gonna be okay, just keep your eyes on me, okay?”
“Intruder...” Taehyung is saying, somewhere far away. “...hurt Yoongi-hyung…”
“Min-ah...” Yoongi mumbles again. Those black sparks are back, crowding his vision, and every blink seems more difficult than the one before. His hands slip uselessly against Jimin’s, trying to grab him. “Min-ah... sorry, ’s difficult...”
“So much blood…” Taehyung whimpers.
“Hyungnim...” Jimin’s voice is pleading, his hands flexing and pressing harder on the most painful part. “Hyungie, stay awake, okay? Please?”
A sudden knock at the door to the adjoining room makes everyone jump, and Yoongi whimpers.
“Taehyung-ah!” Seokjin calls. “Let us in!”
Distant thuds and rattles, and then there are more voices in the room, more noises. Yoongi struggles to keep his eyes open, but this is important.
“J-Joon...” he rasps, grimacing at how weak his voice is. “Joon-ah!”
He hears Hoseok’s little gasp of horror, Namjoon swears under his breath, and a moment later, Namjoon is there, one big hand on Yoongi’s shoulder and the other on Jimin’s, his worried eyes fixed on Yoongi.
“We’re here, love!” he says. “We’ve got you! Has someone called for help?” he asks, looking around desperately.
“Y-yeah, I called, they’re coming, they called an ambulance,” Jimin says, not daring to move his blood-soaked hands.
“Joon, pay ’ttention...” Yoongi forces his voice to obey him, blinking up at Namjoon. “I c-can’t... keep them safe... Keep them safe, Joon, p-please... not safe... need them to be safe...”
“Don’t be scared,” Namjoon says firmly, grabbing Yoongi’s bloodied hand and squeezing it tightly. “Bangtan’s together now. We’ll keep the kids safe, and you too, got it?”
“Tried...” Yoongi says vaguely.
He wants to protect Namjoon too. He wants to squeeze his hand back. He wants to chuck Jimin under his chin and tease him until he stops looking so pale and scared and awful. But that all seems to be too difficult, his body refusing to do what he wants it to. Maybe he could just shut his eyes for a minute now Namjoon will protect the kids...
“Ah-ah!” Namjoon’s big hands, uncharacteristically cold and clammy, cup Yoongi’s jaw and pat his cheek gently. “Eyes open, you hear me?”
“Please stay awake, hyungnim!” Jimin begs. “Oh no… there’s too much—”
“Here, a towel!”
More pain, more pressure. Someone lifting his arm. He whimpers in pain.
“Where are they?!”
Yoongi groans, his eyelids fluttering as he tries to keep his eyes open despite the sickening pain and the aggressive darkness blurring his vision. His Joonie and Minnie want him to stay awake, so he’ll try.
“That’s it, good boy,” Namjoon praises him, his voice shaking.
“You’re doing great, hyungnim!” The smile in Jimin’s voice is very wobbly. “Help’s coming. They’re—”
A pounding at the door makes Yoongi flinch badly and Jimin yelp in fear.
“Jimin-ssi!” a voice yells from the other side of the door. “It’s Sejeongie, open up! They got him!”
A flurry of activity is happening nearby, but Yoongi can’t focus enough to figure it out. It takes everything he has to keep his eyes open and the growing darkness is making it hard to even be sure he’s succeeding.
Sejeong’s face swims into view above him, her usual smile replaced by a look of worry and grim determination.
“Gonna be okay, Yoongi-ssi,” she says, putting her hands on the bloodied towel Jimin is holding to Yoongi’s stomach. Another member of their security team abruptly presses past Namjoon and begins to wrap Yoongi’s torn arm in a makeshift bandage. “I’ll take over here, Jimin-ssi. You did great.”
“No, I don’t—” Jimin’s voice cracks. “Don’t wanna leave hyungnim!”
“Min-ah...” Yoongi mumbles, grasping weakly for Jimin and managing to catch his arm. He doesn’t want Jimin to be upset. He did his best to make sure Jimin and the others were safe, so Jimin doesn’t have to be scared now. “Min-ah... you’re safe...”
“’m safe, hyungnim…” Jimin is weeping now. He clings to Yoongi’s hand, his fingers small and soft. “You kept us safe… thank you…”
“Hyung…”
“Are they coming?”
“Don’t cry baby, it’s okay…”
Yoongi curls his fingers weakly around Jimin’s hand and refuses to let go as members of security loom over him. Every time he blinks, it’s a huge effort to force his eyes to open again, the room spinning and all the thousands of voices around him seeming to come from further and further away.
So loud here. His members voices over a dull roar... Are they still on stage?
More voices, shadows falling over him as two more people appear at his side, crowding him.
“Gonna be okay, hyung-!” Namjoon is almost cut off as he’s pulled back and out of sight. Yoongi can hear blades - scissors - a latex-clad hand on his side -
“Please let me stay,” Jimin is sobbing. Jungkook is sobbing too, somewhere. Then Jimin’s hand is gone.
Yoongi is alone now. There’s no point staying awake if he’s alone. His eyes fall shut and he lets himself sink into the darkness...
...
Namjoon watches in horror as Yoongi’s eyes slip closed, ending up on his ass on the carpet next to the huddle of paramedics. Seokjin eases Jimin back and into his arms, muscles bunching under his T-shirt with the ferocity of his hug. Both are crying. Taehyung, Jungkook, and Hoseok cling to one another close to the door, trying to answer their chief of security’s volley of questions.
“Please, please let me hold his hand, he was holding my hand!” Jimin sobs desperately, struggling weakly against Seokjin.
“Joonie,” Seokjin says, his voice barely more composed than Jimin’s as he holds him back.
Namjoon snaps to attention, shaking himself off as he scrambles to his feet and hurries to put his arms around Jimin, catching him between his two taller, broader hyungs.
“They have to work on hyungie,” he says guiltily, trying to sound reassuring. “They just need space, but he’s okay! He’ll be okay, baby!”
Jimin can barely see through his tears, but he can see Yoongi lying limp and helpless, soaked in blood, his skin a sickening, ghostly grey as the paramedics cut his clothes open.
“He saved us and he got stabbed because of it!” Jimin wails.
Sejeong breaks from the group around Yoongi and addresses Namjoon. Her hands are covered in blood, almost as much as Jimin’s.
“The paramedics are ready to take him, Namjoon-ssi, he needs urgent care,” she says quickly. “We’ll escort, we have extra people coming on duty immediately. There’s one place in the ambulance, I can take it, but if one of you want to...?”
“Let me!” Jimin gasps, jolting forward in Seokjin’s arms.
“Easy, baby!” Seokjin says shakily, tightening his grip on Jimin. “Joonie, he should stay, right? He shouldn’t be—”
“Alone,” Namjoon finishes his sentence, squeezing Jimin close. “One of us will go, babe, and we’ll keep you informed all the time, okay? You need to be here with everyone.”
“B-but Yoongi-hyungnim...” Jimin cries, shaking so hard he can barely stay on his feet. “Please...”
“I’m going to go with him,” Seokjin says firmly.
“You sure, hyung?“ Namjoon asks, reaching to squeeze his arm.
“Absolutely,” Seokjin answers, giving Namjoon a weak smile. “I’ll pull rank as the eldest if you try to stop me. You should stay with the kids, and so should Hoseokie. Yoongi might try to be a hyung to anyone else, but he can’t bullshit me. And if he needs a transfusion, I can donate.”
Jimin slowly stops struggling as he listens...
Namjoon lets out a slow breath and runs an affectionate hand through Seokjin’s hair, still damp from his shower.
“He needs his hyung,” he says gently. “Right, Jimin-ah? Someone to boss him around and make him do what he’s told and be good for the doctors and nurses?”
Jimin manages a weak smile for Seokjin and Namjoon as he nods, his face streaked with tears.
“As soon as I can, I’ll call you, Jimin-ah,” Seokjin says, brushing Jimin’s tears away. “And you can hear from Yoongi yourself. You keep an eye on your phone and be ready to pass the messages to Hoseokie and the others, okay?”
“Yes hyung,” Jimin answers, his voice still thick with tears, but a little calmer. He likes having a job.
“Time to go, Seokjin-ssi,” Sejeong says.
Behind her, the paramedics are lifting Yoongi on a stretcher. He looks very small and fragile, limp and insensible, crowded by uniformed professionals.
Namjoon draws Jimin firmly against his chest, his thick arms tight around Jimin’s shoulders as they watch.
“You’ll stay with him?” Hoseok asks Seokjin.
“Every moment,” Seokjin answers grimly, checking he has his phone and wallet. “They won’t be able to get rid of me.”
Jungkook hurries to fetch his big puffy coat and pushes it into Seokjin’s arms.
“Keep warm, hyung!” he says, his voice catching.
“Thanks, Jungkook-ah,” Seokjin smiles, ruffling Jungkook’s hair. “I’ll call Jiminie as soon as I can. Take care of each other while Yoongi and I aren’t here to supervise!” he jokes, his voice wavering a little.
Then the paramedics are carrying Yoongi out and Sejeong is hurrying Seokjin to follow, and they vanish down the hotel corridor. The remaining security sweep the room, then they also go out into the corridor to stand guard. The door swings shut, leaving the five remaining members alone in the room.
“Oh my god…” Hoseok groans, collapsing into an armchair. His eyes are fixed on the huge bloodstain on the grey carpet, his whole body trembling.
“You’re both staying with us tonight,” Namjoon says to Jimin and Taehyung, still clinging to Jimin. “Get your stuff and bring it next door right now. Don’t want any of you here one minute longer.”
“C-can I wash up in here?” Jimin asks, his voice wavering as he looks down at his bloodstained hands. “Don’ wanna get blood in your room too...”
Taehyung is already gathering his own and Jimin’s stuff with shaking hands.
“Yes, of course,” Namjoon says, kissing his hair. “You’re such a good boy. Want hyung to help…?”
Jimin’s lip wobbles and he nods.
“Come on, Jungkook-ah, I think I have some instant hot chocolate, let’s make it?” Hoseok says, putting his arm around Jungkook. “You go boil the kettle, I’ll help Taehyungie pack up and we’ll be there in one minute.”
“Thanks, hyung,” Jungkook says, nuzzling into Hoseok’s shoulder.
“Come with me, baby,” Namjoon says, steering Jimin into the generous bathroom.
He turns on the taps and checks the temperature of the water, his face drawn and paler than Jimin has ever seen it. Jimin stands quietly, shivering badly.
“It h-happened so fast...” he mumbles.
“Unacceptable,” Namjoon growls, fierce and protective, making Jimin jump. “It should never have been possible. But you did everything right, Jimin-ah,” he says, effortfully softening his tone and drawing Jimin gently to the sink, guiding his hands under the soft, warm water. “Sejeong-ssi and the paramedics said so, did you hear them?”
“R-really?” Jimin asks, scrubbing at his hands. “I was just paying attention to hyungnim...”
“I know, and you always know exactly what he needs,” Namjoon says, resting his big, warm hands on Jimin’s shoulder. “You’re such a good boy.”
“I want to ask you if he’ll really be okay...” Jimin says with a sad little smile, his eyes on the bloody water rushing down the drain. “But that wouldn’t be fair, cause you can’t know.”
“I can’t,” Namjoon sighs, resting his chin on Jimin’s head with an equally sad smile. “But I know he’s gonna get the best care money can buy, and that he’s a stubborn little bastard. He’ll fight. He’ll fight like hell.”
Jimin laughs through more tears, scrubbing at his hands.
“He’ll fight like hell,” he agrees. “Our prize fighter.”
Yoongi becomes aware of the noise first. It’s so fucking noisy here. Dorm? No. Clattering and beeping and unfamiliar voices. Backstage, maybe? Backstage at a TV schedule?
He tries to lift his arm and a soft little whine escapes him. He can’t. His arm is too limp and weak. His whole body feels like damp paper, but painful. Sharp, throbbing pain, starting deep in his stomach and radiating out to his arms and thigh.
“Yoongi-yah!” Seokjin’s voice is distant, muffled.
Pressure on his hand. Seokjin’s hand, wrapped around his, squeezing and making his arm throb.
“Hyung...?” he tries, but it comes out faint, his lips cold and slack and his chest unwilling to push air properly out of his lungs.
“I’m here, babe,” Seokjin says. Someone strokes his hair. Seokjin’s long, gentle fingers. “We’re going to the hospital, okay?”
“Oh...”
Yoongi manages to crack his eyes open and instantly regrets it. It’s bright and loud and it hurts. But he focuses on Seokjin. Seokjin looks pale and worried and it makes Yoongi feel vaguely bad.
“It’s okay, it’s really bright in here,” he says reassuringly, stroking Yoongi’s hair back from his face. He shifts closer, blocking most of the light, so that it shines around his head like a halo. “I’m so proud of you, Yoongi-yah, and we’re gonna look after you. So don’t be scared.”
The memories are fractured and staccato: a tall, terrible figure, a knife, Taehyung screaming, Jungkook crying, Jimin covered in blood.
“A-are they safe?” he gasps, clutching at Seokjin.
“Yes, love! Yes, they’re safe!” Seokjin says, holding tight to Yoongi’s hand and stroking his cheek with the other. “You kept them all safe, there’s not a scratch on any of them. You did great, you hear me?”
“Good...” Yoongi breathes, letting his eyes fall shut again. “My babies...”
“Stay strong, Yoongi-yah,” Seokjin urges as the ambulance bounces abruptly over a speed bump. The wailing sirens, which Yoongi hadn’t even identified in the cacophony, cut out. “...Oh. Thanks. Hear that? We’re at the hospital. I’m gonna stay with you, okay? I won’t leave you, even if you can’t see me.” His voice is shaking.
Yoongi tries to nod but he’s not sure it works. Colder air floods in and he suddenly becomes aware that his shirt has been cut open, most of his pale torso exposed. He whimpers.
“Let us through, please,” a female voice says, and Seokjin’s hand is suddenly gone.
“I’m right here, love!”
Something tightens across Yoongi’s chest, then something across his thighs, pinning him down. Seokjin’s hand is back in his hair. A jolt as he’s suddenly lifted up. He shudders violently with cold and fear and helplessness, instinctively turning his face towards Seokjin’s hand.
And then motion, sickening and terrifying, lights and noises flying past.
“Assault victim,” someone is shouting over him. “Abdominal puncture wound, suspected perforation of the liver, significant blood loss, no field transfusion, conscious but at risk of shock.”
It’s cold and bright, too bright. Someone touches his knee and he realises his trousers are gone too, or half-gone. His thigh hurts. What if ARMY sees this? He whimpers.
“I’ve got you, Yoongi-yah.” Seokjin’s voice is strained but steady. He’s running next to him. “You’re doing great!”
“No ’m not...” Yoongi argues in a breathless rasp. He can’t imagine doing worse.
“Ah-ah,” Seokjin says, patting Yoongi’s hand. “Don’t argue with hyung! You’re so brave, I’m so proud of you.”
They stop abruptly, the room turning nauseatingly around Yoongi, and more hands are on him, more voices shouting terrifying things over his head about hypovolemia and lacerations and hepatic injury.
“Hyung, ’m not brave enough...!” Yoongi whines.
“You are — love!” Seokjin says, interrupted by someone calling across him. He leans in as close as he can to speak in Yoongi’s ear. “You’re the stubbornest son of a bitch I know, you won’t let this beat you. You won’t let that bastard take you down, Yoongi-yah. And we’re all here to help you.”
Yoongi tries to answer, but something shifts in the worst of the pain, something hot and awful, and Yoongi suddenly feels like he’s fallen into deep, icy water, his body cold and shaking and struggling desperately to suck in a breath.
“--going into shock--”
“--immediately--”
“--transfusion--”
Between one blink and the next, Yoongi sinks.
...
Once Yoongi disappears through the swinging doors, Seokjin is steered to a cramped family room with a cup of coffee and something to eat. Sejeong is a kind, efficient presence, keeping everyone else at bay.
“I-I wanna call the boys,” Seokjin says to her as he falls into an armchair, scrabbling in his pocket for his phone. “I want it to come from me.”
“Of course, I’ll call the managers, you call the members,” she says, heading for the door. “I’ll be right outside if you need me, Seokjin-ssi, for anything at all.”
“Thanks, Sejeong-ssi,” Seokjin says gratefully. He waits until the door closes before he lifts his phone and finds BigHit Park Jimin and Jimin’s smiling face in his favourite contacts list. With shaking hands, he hits call and lifts the phone to his ear.
Jimin answers halfway through the first ring.
“It’s Jin-hyung! Hyung?” he says breathlessly.
“I’m here, baby,” Seokjin says, the words coming out in a slow sigh. “We’re at the hospital. Is everyone there?”
“Yeah, of course, we’re all here, hyung! We’re in Joonie-hyung’s room,” Jimin babbles. “Is Yoongi-hyung there? Can I talk to him? Is he okay?”
Seokjin takes a slow breath, drawing his hand over his forehead and closing his eyes.
“He’s in surgery, love,” he says gently. “They think he has a perforated liver and he lost a lot of blood. They’re working on him now, a whole gang of them.”
“Oh...” Jimin breathes.
“Did he say... liver?” comes Taehyung’s voice faintly.
“Jin-hyung says Yoongi-hyung is in surgery because he might have a p-perforated liver and he lost a lot of blood,” Jimin says, and Seokjin hears the horrible little broken noise Hoseok makes in the distance.
“They took a transfusion from me for him,” Seokjin says shakily, that distressed sound making him dizzy with anxiety. “They say the surgeon is world-class…”
“Oh well done, hyung,” Jimin says, shaky but warm. “Jin-hyung gave Yoongi-hyung blood! And the surgeon is world-class.”
“As expected from our Seokjin-hyung,” Namjoon says, loud enough for Seokjin to hear.
“Do you know when he’ll... when he should be...?” Jimin tries asking.
“They think an hour or two,” Seokjin says. “If it all goes to plan. They said he got here in good time, he got good first aid… that was you, Jimin-ah…” His voice starts to shake with emotion.
“I just put pressure, I didn’t know what else to do,” Jimin says, tears in his voice again.
“ You okay, hyung? Did they give you food?” Hoseok calls.
“Yeah, I’m okay!” Seokjin pushes a smile to his lips. “They gave me some little dumplings. And Sejeongie is in noona mode, even though she’s younger than me. It’s weird but it’s nice--” He chokes a little.
“You wanna stay on the phone, hyung?” Jimin asks, his voice softer. “You have enough charge? Jungkookie was gonna sing for us, you wanna listen?”
“Oh, yes, please!” Seokjin begs, bending double to put his forehead to his knees. “I’d really like that.”
There’s a soft shuffling, then Jimin’s very quiet voice.
“I’m cuddling with Jungkookie on the bed now,” he murmurs. “We’re gonna stay on the phone as long as you want.”
“That sounds good, baby,” Seokjin says gently, closing his eyes. “Yoongi and I will be with you all really soon. I bet he’s dreaming about you right now.”
As Jungkook starts to sing, Seokjin hears the soft little hitch of breath that gives away that Jimin is crying again.
Yoongi surfaces painfully abruptly. Bright light and buzzing noise again, and so much wrong with his body that it’s hard to separate it out enough to catalogue it.
A pained moan from somewhere. From him. A gasp.
“Yoongi-yah?”
The pressure on his hand increases. Seokjin’s hand is holding his.
“...hyung?” he slurs, forcing his eyes open.
“Yes!” Seokjin’s smiling face swims into view, his beautiful eyes brimming with tears. “Hyung’s here, love! Welcome back!”
“...everythin’ hurts...” Yoongi mumbles, trying to squeeze Seokjin’s hand.
“I know,” Seokjin grimaces, stroking the back of Yoongi’s cold hand with his thumb. “Someone will be around soon to check your meds and I’ll get them to give you more of the good shit. Only the best for Min Suga, right?”
The room slowly stops spinning enough for Yoongi to take it in. Private hospital room. Big bed. Blood bag hanging over him, the label not printed but scrawled in ink.
“...’m I okay, hyung?” Yoongi rasps softly.
“Yeah,” Seokjin says with a gentle smile. “You’re pretty banged up and they had to stitch you back together. But you’re strong and stubborn, and you’re still kicking, and you’re gonna be okay.”
“Okay...” Yoongi breathes, letting his head sink back. His voice wavers. “And... the others are safe...?”
“They’re all safe, I promise,” Seokjin says, squeezing Yoongi’s hand. “I’ll get them to send a selca to prove it to you, if you want. But they’re fine, thanks to you. You took it all for them.”
“Good,” Yoongi says stubbornly. Everything hurts, but if the others are safe, it’s worth it. His head is starting to spin again. “...hyung?”
“Yeah, babe?” Seokjin strokes Yoongi’s hair gently, his dark eyes fixed on Yoongi’s.
“Can I... see them... please?” Yoongi whispers, embarrassed but needy. His eyes are closing against his will. “C’n I... see... Jiminie...?”
“I’ll call him for you,” Seokjin says, but his voice is growing distant, and worried. “I’ll call him now. Yoongi-yah, stay with me, yeah?”
Yoongi wants to answer. Wants to be good. Wants to stay with his hyung. But it’s too much for his limp, aching body. His pale lips part and he falls back into the darkness.
...