Chapter Text
Taehyung starts awake in a way that’s become second nature to him by now. His heart is racing, his mouth is dry and even if he can’t remember the dream at all in the few seconds between sleep and shooting awake, there’s still the lingering sense of panic in the back of his mind that sends shivers down his entire body.
Or maybe it’s the cold stone floor of the bathroom he’s lying on.
He doesn’t remember falling asleep in the bathroom. Might have been a seizure; you wake up in the strangest places after those… He tries to stretch and groans at the way his unresponsive, stiff muscles protest the movement. He can practically feel his left hip grind in its socket and rolls his eyes as he imagines the argument he’s going to be forced to have with his orthopedic specialist at his next appointment. And with Jimin too. Because he’s been very adamant about driving Taehyung to physical therapy at least twice a week. And while Taehyung doesn’t mind pushing himself back and forth on the rowing machine, doing the same movement over and over until the frayed nerve endings in his hip are begging him to stop for the love of God- he’s also not sure if it’s any use. He’s had surgery twice already, going up for a third time in less than three weeks and each time it’s just left him swollen, chagrined and no further along than he was in the beginning. Surely that surgeon must know by now that the injury was just too old to repair and Taehyung must just learn to live with the fact that he’s gonna have a wonky hip for the rest of his life. But no, as seems the case with all the people in his life right now; they seem very determined to fix everything. And so, by now, his hip, both socket and femur, are more plastic than they are bone.
It’s ridiculous how many nerves are still in there, though, he thinks as he tries to roll it loose, scooting back in the dark bathroom until his back hits the solid wall under the tiny window. He grumbles something low under his breath, feeling like an eighty year old as he slowly and awkwardly gets to his feet, feeling around for the light switch.
He inhales deeply as he flips the light on, eyes widening in surprise. The bathroom is a bit of a mess. Towels and gauze wrappers lying scattered around the floor. There are deep red smudges on the towels and at some point, a switch was made to toilet paper instead. Jimin lies on the floor in the middle of it and he looks every bit as uncomfortable as Taehyung’s own stiff muscles feel. It takes an embarrassing few seconds before Taehyung’s aware enough of his surroundings to gasp in alarm. He glances at the bloodied towels again, then at Jimin, then back at the towels, then dives back unto his knees to crawl over to his best friend. He scans frantically for injuries, hands shaking and a low groan sitting in the back of his throat. Jimin, aside from being slightly cold to the touch, seems perfectly intact otherwise. It’s only when Taehyung moves to shake him awake that he stops, gaze dropping to the stark white gauze wrapped around his own forearms.
Oh
Oh yeah
His fingers twitch and he breathes heavily as his eyes roam around the bathroom haphazardly. The skin underneath the tight bandages itches, as if only now trying to remind him of what happened yesterday. His gaze flies across the stupidly large bathroom until it settles on the bathtub and he hums to himself in dissatisfaction.
Fuck
He remembers bits and pieces. Mostly a red hot daze of panic and hate. Jimin’s cries and pleas sounding awfully far away as Taehyung was swallowed into hell and despair. Hadn’t he sworn to himself he wouldn’t let that happen? Sure, he could bend and break when he was on his own all he wanted, but the minute Jimin had forcefully entered the bathroom, Taehyung should have reverted back to a shiny example of peace and calm. And yet he couldn’t. That was twice now that he had freaked the fuck out of his friends. First Jungkookie, at City Hall, and now Jiminie.
And yet here he was.
Dismayed, Taehyung stares at the bathtub, then back at Jimin as he unconsciously digs his fingers into the soft white gauze around his wrist. Sure, he only remembers flashes here and there, but he’s pretty sure Jimin can recall everything to the finest detail. He must have seen all of it. All the panic. All the scars.
He digs his fingers in a little further, squeezing, before letting go. He shakes his head. He can’t let himself slip like that again. Not in front of Jimin, or anybody. They must think he’s fucking insane. They wouldn’t be half wrong, he realizes with a sinking feeling.
He startles as he notices Jimin starting to stir. A high pitched noise escapes his throat as he bolts for the door, not ready to face whatever an awakened Jimin has to confront him with.
“Dani,” he hisses at his dog, who’s disrespectfully sprawled over the entirety of the couch, like always. She only lifts her massive head slightly, looking at him lazily, large nose twitching in the least bit of effort she could possibly muster up. After a few seconds of contemplation, she huffs and jumps off the couch surprisingly fluidly.
“Alright, come on,” Taehyung drawls nervously, shooting glances from Dani to the bathroom and back, “We gotta go.”
Dani, as usual, has not gotten the memo that they are in a rush. In fact, you cannot rush Dani even if your –or her- life depended on it. Taehyung curses softly as he watches Dani saunter into the kitchen towards her water bowl. She leisurely laps at the water for a couple of seconds before sitting down, twisting her head to expectantly look at Taehyung behind her.
“No,” Taehyung groans, shaking his head, “No, we don’t have time for breakfast, we gotta go.” Dani watches with suspicion as Taehyung stumbles towards the coffee table to retrieve her leash. She stares at him, not moving from her spot. Grumbling in exasperation, she finally decides that Taehyung is too stupid to figure it out on his own and she tears her gaze away from him to stare at the closed cupboard instead.
“Yeah, no, I know you’re hungry,” Taehyung pleads, “We’ll get you something on the way, now, come on.” He jingles the leash for good measure. All the dogs he’s had in his past life had been all but ecstatic at the mere idea of going out together on an honest to God adventure, but not this one, of course. Taehyung’s concluded a while back that Dani was just a really big, bear-looking… cat.
Or maybe she was actually a bear…
He considers the logistics of getting a bear through service dog training as he grabs his coat and shoves his bare feet into his boots. He closes his fist around the keys on the book case, contemplating how much this feels like an escape for only just a second before he takes his cane from next to the door and twists the door knob. “Last chance,” he says into the hallway. It takes a few seconds more, but finally he hears Dani’s nails tapping over the hardwood floor and he nods to himself before turning to nod at her and-
Shit
Jimin’s in the doorway of the bathroom, not paying Dani’s curious greeting any attention as he stares directly at Taehyung. His face is unreadable as he studies Taehyung from head to toe, “Where are you going?”
Taehyung winces at the gravelly, hoarse quality of Jimin’s voice and turns to stare longingly into the hallway, “Out,” is all he can mutter.
Jimin is silent for a couple of seconds and it’s just long enough for Taehyung to consider it permission to just flee the scene altogether. But he kinda needs the dog.
Funny, how he’s spend the better part of two months holed up in this apartment, only rarely stepping out for dog training or therapy. And now, after that horrific fiasco last night, he’d rather be anywhere else. Or maybe it was just Jimin that he wanted to avoid. He doesn’t even really know why-
“We need to talk.”
Oh yeah, that is why.
A humorless laugh escapes Taehyung at the thought. “Not really.”
“Yes, really,” Jimin insists, slowly moving closer. He’s careful, Taehyung notices. Probably afraid Taehyung’s gonna dash out the door, never to be seen again-
-that’s not funny
“About what?” Taehyung mutters, still pretty much talking to an empty hallway. He’s fine pretending not to know what Jimin wants. He knows it must drive his friend up the wall and he swears it’s not his intention but-
-what else is he supposed to do?
Talk?
Really?
He can practically feel Jimin’s disappointed stare bore through the back of his skull. He hears the unmistakable huff of air as Jimin sighs and pulls back a kitchen chair, the legs scraping against the floor. “You tell me.”
Taehyung feels his face twist into a scowl, turning slowly. He avoids Jimin’s gaze, instead locking eyes with his dog, “Dani, come.”
Jimin’s jaw clenches, taking a breath, “Dani, stay.”
Dani isn’t usually one to listen to whatever Jimin has to say to her, but the icy tone in his voice renders her immobile. She whines, feet tapping on the floor but not moving in any direction. She’s not going anywhere. Taehyung knows it. And if Dani’s not going anywhere, by effect, neither is he.
Goddamnit.
His shoulders slump at the realization and he glares at Jimin. His skin prickles at the way Jimin’s intense gaze follows his every move as he slowly shuts the door behind him. Jimin’s not angry, but he is in full control. The notion makes Taehyung’s fingers twitch.
Can’t escape
Jimin nods at the chair across from him. The spacious apartment seems a lot smaller as Taehyung hobbles towards the kitchen table reluctantly. He slowly lowers himself unto the soft cushion and breathes out, “What’s up?”
“Are you running away from me?”
The prickle is back and Taehyung’s face twitches into an emotion he cannot identify. He rolls his eyes before shaking his head, huffing out a breathless chuckle. “I think I should if you keep staring at me like that.”
Jimin’s face softens slightly, his stern gaze morphing into a distinctly worried expression as he leans forward over the table. Taehyung, instinctively, leans back. “I would like to know what happened last night.”
And there it was. Taehyung’s heart rate picks up, his stomach flipping in distress and it’s pathetic, what the fuck-
His eyes flit towards his arms on the table for a half second and he immediately pulls them back to shove them under the table instead. Like he can somehow hide the evidence. Then he stares back at Jimin, hard and unblinking. A dark, roaring storm brewing in his eyes. A warning, if you will. “I don’t know what to say.”
He gives Jimin a chance to drop it. They don’t need to talk. Not now. Probably not ever. He’s decided quite a while back that his strategy is to just shove everything down into the deepest regions of his twisted soul and if it sometimes reaches up into a meltdown in a godforsaken bathtub, then that’s just how it is.
No need to psycho analyse every single little thing about it.
No thank you
“Try me,” Jimin sits back, spreading his arms. He’s striking some sort of balance between giving Taehyung room to talk, but not letting him off the hook at all. Impressive.
Taehyung narrows his eyes as his glare intensifies. Jimin knows he’s getting on his last nerve. “Look, I’m fine. It was nothing. Last night wasn’t-, I didn’t-, I couldn’t, I was just-”
“Hallucinating?”
His breath leaves him in an incredulous puff of air. He scowls at Jimin, face melting into a sneer, “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
“I would if you told me.”
And Taehyung tries, honestly, he does. He tries to see it from Jimin’s perspective. If that were me, and I were him, and all that crap. But Jimin’s got no right. He’s got no fucking right.
And so Taehyung springs up like the dinner table has suddenly caught fire. He grabs Dani by her collar and all but drags her along towards the front door. “Taehyung, for fuck sake-”
“No,” Taehyung turns, angrily pointing, “You’ve got no fucking right.”
“I wish you would just talk to me.”
“Well, I’m done talking!”
“I think we haven’t even started yet,” Jimin sighs, and there’s a condescending undertone to it that drives Taehyung up the wall. It’s not a conversation they should have while screaming at each other. He knows. He knows. But it’s too fucking late now.
“You were the one that barged in last night,” Taehyung growls, still pointing as he clears the distance back towards the table, ignoring Dani’s confused whimper. “I was fine, and now all of a sudden we gotta talk because you don’t know the word privacy.”
Jimin’s temper flares fiercely at the injustice. His hands curl into fists on the table and his glare shoots daggers, even while he remains seated, “Don’t you fucking gaslight me like that,” he drawls slowly in a low tone, “You were in there for over four hours. Of course I barged in there.”
“Maybe I was just enjoying some quality time on my own.”
“But you weren’t, were you?” Jimin’s voice rises in volume, bouncing against the walls that seem to come a little bit closer with every word, “Water was cold as ice, Taehyung. And you were-”
“I was fine,” Taehyung cuts him off, “It’s normal.”
“What?”
Taehyung shakes his head, chewing the inside of his cheek and refusing to look back at him. There’s no way he can explain. He remembers, even before, it was hard to explain what he thought or felt sometimes.
And Jimin always understood.
And sometimes, just sometimes, Taehyung was sure that Jimin was the only one that ever could.
But that was before
Taehyung regards him. Sees the desperation there. Knows it’s all because of him. A shaky breath. “You don’t know,” he mutters, “You don’t know, because it’s not your normal.”
“You don’t think I’d understand?”
“No,” Taehyung scoffs, “No, I don’t.”
“Well, give me some credit,” Jimin mumbles slowly, “I was down there too.”
Taehyung flinches at the memory, squaring his jaw, “That’s not really the same, is it?”
“What do you mean?”
“It wasn’t… normal to you. You didn’t…” Taehyung sighs, reluctantly trying to explain, “you didn’t live there.”
He watches Jimin consider this, brows furrowing, “And so a freakout in the bathtub is normal because… you did?”
“Yes.”
“Right…”
“You don’t sound convinced.”
“I’m not.”
“Fine,” Taehyung breathes, turning away, “I tried.”
But Jimin, in the typical way that Taehyung distinctly remembers from him, doesn’t know when to leave well enough alone. “I’m calling doctor Oh about this.”
The roaring storm that Taehyung’s managed to keep in check so far finally breaks through to the surface and he spins on his heels, livid, “What?”
Jimin must see something in his terrifying glare, because suddenly, he’s holding both hands up, “Look, if you don’t wanna talk about it to me, that’s okay. But you gotta talk about it.”
“You don’t get to decide that!”
Jimin’s finally sprung away from the table as well, matching Taehyung’s frantic intensity, “No, I just gotta sit by and watch you freeze yourself to death in a fucking bathtub, clawing open your arms god knows why. And you stand there and tell me all of that’s normal?”
“You don’t know!” Taehyung yells, ignoring Dani’s bark completely, “You have no idea what it was like!”
“No, I don’t!” Jimin shouts back, and Taehyung would see the fierce worry if his vision wasn’t so blurry, “But I’m pretty sure that you would still be in that godforsaken bathtub if I hadn’t come in!”
“You want to know?” Taehyung growls, stumbling as he absentmindedly pushes Dani’s frantic nudges away. Yes, he knows his stress levels are through the roof right now, thank you Dani, for the reminder. “You really want to know what my normal was like?”
Jimin’s mouth opens, but his voice gets stuck somewhere in his throat. For the first time, Taehyung sees the fear there. But he doesn’t care.
“Because it’s not normal, Mouse!” He yells, voice cracking and flaring up another octave, “It’s fucked up. All of it! But I lived it. For more than five fucking years. And that’s some long ass time to be fucked up!”
Guilt and regret flash over Jimin’s face, but Taehyung ignores it. He ignores it because he cannot seem to stop- “And it was all fistfights and splints and training and footwork and role calls and wet fucking sand and rations and splintered sticks and punishments and Prince of the Underground and someday and one dull fucking razor and blood and death and blood-”
Gasping, he looks at his shaking hands. It’s there. Again. Just like last night. They’re covered in it and- “And-”
“And it won’t come off,” Jimin says softly.
Old Taehyung would have run at him, seeking consolidation in the warm, affectionate embrace Jimin always seemed to offer. He’s pretty sure that this Jimin is still the same. But Taehyung’s not. He stands, frozen, shaking from top to toe. His breathing has gone off the rails so much that he thinks he might just pass out from it. Pathetic.
Pathetic
He didn’t use to freak out like this when he was down there. And slowly but surely he starts to understand why. And it’s sick. He knows. There’s still a rational part of him that can distinguish between normal and fucked up, even if he claims otherwise. But there’s another part. Darker and increasingly louder. It screams out of the void. And he knows the voice because it’s his own. But a different person altogether. One that should have stayed buried when that goddamn hell hole collapsed.
You don’t belong here
He gasps, precious air just out of reach with every inhale. His vision is blurring. He smacks Jimin away from him when his arms reach out. Another meltdown in the span of 24 hours. Pathetic
Pathetic
He needs air. Clumsily he attaches the leash to Dani’s collar, who’s full on crying by now. Jimin’s talking, frantic, but indeterminable. The walls seem mere inches away on all sides.
Taehyung stumbles out of the apartment, pulling at the leash as Dani’s trying to drag him back in. He walks through the corridor as fast as he can with a reluctant, struggling dog in tow. He rounds the corner, away and out of sight of the apartment. At the elevator he sinks against the wall, collapsing before he can get in. He crumples –pathetic pathetic- burying his head in his arms. His shoulders shake, he gasps wetly, but there’s no tears. He’s vaguely aware of Dani cowering next to him, every now and then bravely trying to nudge him out of this hellish state he’s worked himself up in. She’s not equipped to handle it this bad. And neither is he.