Namjoon shot him a 'double thumbs up' and Jungkook grinned, throwing back the universal 'OK' signal and a final animated wave that moved his whole upper body, and then...Namjoon left. Stepped around the elbow in the walkway and out of sight.
No doubt the leader was shepherding the rest of the members down the departure corridor and into the belly of the plane waiting on the tarmac.
Jungkook could imagine it-
He'd experienced it enough times to not have to rely on imagination though.
Namjoon-hyung would be ushering them down the ramp; collecting any stragglers under his free arm as he slung his backpack higher over his shoulder. One of the hyungs would have an eye on Tae and Jimin because they all knew 95 line together spelled mischief. (Usually, Jungkook turned that into 'maknae line spelled mischief.') Jin would already be charming the cabin crew waiting at the plane door.
Fingers slowly dropping out of their lingering wave to rest by his side, Jungkook's smile finally disappeared with as much ease as his members had deserted him.
That wasn't exactly fair though; Seokjin had asked him if he was sure he was okay with going alone at least ten times (Jungkook had laughed him off- "I'm not a little kid anymore hyung, I'll be fine!"). And Namjoon had asked Sejin-manager to run through the check-in and landing procedure with him (Jungkook was really, really grateful for that. He wasn't sure how Namjoon had known that the maknae was anxious about accidentally hopping a flight to Zimbabwe, but know the man had. Kookie was set now though. Knew which gate and everything).
So, it probably wasn't fair to be upset with his hyungs for doing exactly as he'd asked, by treating him like an adult who was perfectly able to fly by himself.
And he'd honestly been fine with the idea, excited even, up until about an hour ago. Then the rest of the members had started their own check-in procedures, and Jungkook had stood to the side and watched as they'd joked and argued over seats and who had snored last time.
He'd suddenly realized that flying to meet his parents by himself, meant he'd be by himself.
Fact check:
He'd never flown alone before.
That part seemed to have been overshadowed by the illusion of maturity and the excitement of responsibility and independence and proving 'he was an adult.'
And now the others were gone, without much more than a "Bye Jungkookie, let us know when you arrive." (okay, he was pity-lying to himself again. He'd got hugs too. But not the special super reassuring 'hyung wants you to know you'll be okay' hugs. Just normal everyday hugs.) And then they'd just- left.
Jungkook wanted-
Well- what he actually wanted was probably a bit embarrassing, what with all the posturing himself as all grown up and 'an adult now, hyung!'
He could hardly ask to be treated like an adult and then expect to be coddled. And he didn't.
But - he was the baby of the group.
He just wished they'd been a little more reluctant to leave him alone. A little more considerate to the fact that they'd never just left him in an airport before...
Jungkook snorted.
He knew he was being silly and more than a bit of a drama queen; they'd had a plane to catch too and had had to go when they did (as it was they were probably amongst the last to board), but Jungkook-
Jungkook wanted to be being dragged into the cramped aisle between Jimin and Tae, having his foot room stolen by Jin, and Hobi sneaking snacks from his tray table from the seat in front.
Instead, he frowned and plopped himself down onto his suitcase and scowled at the mottled carpet of the waiting area floor.
He was lonely.
This sucked.
"JK! Kook-ah!Yah- Guk! Yah!"
Jungkook's gaze snapped up at the sound of his name being screeched energetically, and he immediately beamed at the sight of Jimin waving madly and radiating excitement at him from the end of the corridor, bouncing up and down like a demented spring.
"Love you, Kook- ah! Have a good vacation! Send lots of photos! Don't drink too much soda on the plane! Don't talk to strangers! Come home soon! Be safe! "
Yoongi re-appearing again to drag Jimin away by his shirt front only made the entire experience better (especially the little wave and eye-smile the older sent him). Jimin threw his arms into an overhead heart and then extended that into finger hearts that reached from around the corner as Yoongi pulled him back out of sight.
His hyungs cared that they were leaving him.
His hyungs were crazy. But they cared.
Jungkook was probably crazier for loving them so much.
Still grinning, the self-pity of moments ago forgotten, Jungkook pulled himself to his feet and wandered toward his airline's check-in desk at the far end of the small airport.
He had a plane to catch, a family vacation to enjoy and those idiots waiting for him to come home to them; in that order.
Namjoon blinked fuzzily back into awareness as the dim lighting of the plane suddenly brightened; the 'seat-belts' warning dinging as the captain began to announce their arrival and imminent landing in Seoul.
Not bothering to stifle a yawn, he slowly straightened from his slumped position, moving to fold his tray table upright and tuck the book he didn't remember abandoning back into his bag.
"Hyung-" a voice called softly from his left, and Namjoon started to turn before he realized the 'hyung' in question wasn't himself as Jimin continued, "Yoongi-hyung, wake up. We're home-", fingers bravely prodding at his sleeping hyung's side.
Namjoon shuddered; more power to Jimin and his apparent death wish.
Wanting to be as far removed as possible from any association or culpability once Yoongi eventually woke, Namjoon turned toward the familiar whispering voices he'd only vaguely registered from the seats behind him.
"... wake him, Hoba. Look at him. Let him sleep - " and that was Seokjin's quiet murmuring, and Namjoon felt his eyebrows raise of their own accord-
He turned to peer between the seats in time to hear Hoseok's reply, "I know. I know. But we've got to get off the plane and through the airport-"
"..I'll carry him," Jin answered matter-of-factly, and Namjoon snorted. How was Kim Seokjin even real?
Hobi was apparently thinking along similar lines if the exasperated groan was any indication, replying, "What? Hyung, no. Just- he's the same size as you. He's a big boy, he can walk. "
Namjoon shook his head, snorting to himself; which of course Jin heard loud and clear, gaze wasp-fast as he turned to pin his nosy eavesdropping dongsaeng with laser eyes through the miniscule gap between the seats.
Namjoon grinned sweetly, straightening to add his two cents now that he was part of the conversation (whether he liked it or not), "Really hyung, you can't carry him asleep through the airport. How are you even gonna get him off the plane? He's definitely gonna wake up. And just - no. "
Jin huffed, glanced to his left and then replied, " Fine. But you're waking him up."
And then the older leaned back out of his eye-line, and Namjoon felt his insides curl up and die a little.
Taehyung had somehow managed to completely scrunch all 5'foot 11 inches of his long-limbed form into the tiny plane seat; pretzelled into such a contortion that Namjoon was sure that if he tried to mirror the position, he'd be the one needing to be carried off the plane. And yet, despite trying to turn himself into a commercial for cramped muscles and aching joints, Taehyung's eyes were closed. Long lashes feathered to fan across pale cheeks; mouth parted slightly, allowing just audible puffs of breath to escape, the moist warmth leaving a stain of darker pink against the pale dryness of slightly chapped lips.
Peacefully asleep.
That coupled with the slight hollowing of Taehyungs usually round cheeks, and the semi-circles beneath his eyes that had darkened steadily over the past busy weeks, Namjoon was suddenly half-inclined to try and carry the younger himself.
And then Taehyung's lashes fluttered slightly, and Namjoon caught a glimpse of dark brown before the younger quickly dropped his eyes shut again-
"Yah - stop playing possum, you brat. No one is carrying you!" Hoseok scolded playfully, digging an elbow into the Taehyung's vulnerable side that set him squawking as he flung himself upright, (with no physical difficulty, Namjoon noted disbelievingly) half into Jin's lap; ostensibly out of reach.
Hoseok set about proving just how wrong the younger was in that regard, fingers curling into claws as he approached. They began their descent, and Namjoon figured that if anyone on the plane were still asleep, Taehyung's peals of giggling laughter would be a pleasant wake-up call.
Speaking of-
Namjoon turned back to the pair seated on his left, wondering if his leaderly influence would be required (meaning he would employ Jin and his 'hyung' powers), but Yoongi was already awake. It did appear to be a thoroughly reluctant state of affairs though, if the sulky wrapping of his headphones and the grumbling bend to tuck them into the outside compartment of the bag beneath his feet was any indication.
Jimin shooting him a pleased little grin of accomplishment over the Daegu rappers back had Namjoon stifling a laugh as he shot a thumbs up in return.
And then the plane jolted violently, and Namjoon's heart stuttered in his chest as the unholy noise of metal scraping on metal echoed in his ears. He clutched at the armrest tightly, knuckles white as they as they bounced again, and then again-
And then the plane evened out into a slightly shuddery coast that smoothed into a smooth roll within seconds. From overhead, the captain's voice reassured them-
"Apologies for the rough landing folks, it seems I managed to find us the only pothole in the entire airport. I'll be sure to have a word with the strip maintenance crew, get that one sorted out. Again, my apologies."
The intercom buzzed off for only a moment before the voice returned, this time the epitome of professionalism, "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Incheon International Airport. Local time is 11:57pm, and the temperature is 17c. For your safety and comfort, please remain seated with your seatbelt fastened until the Fasten Seat Belt sign blinks off. This will indicate that we have parked at the gate and that it is safe for you to move about.
Please check around your seat for any personal belongings you may have brought on board with you and please use caution when opening the overhead bins, as heavy articles may have shifted around during the flight.
On behalf of International United Airlines and the entire crew, I'd like to thank you for joining us on this trip, and we are looking forward to seeing you on board again in the near future. Have a nice evening!"
The intercom hummed for a moment more before falling silent, and then a beat- two, and the plane erupted into excited buzzing as murmurs grew into chattering and slightly hysterical spates of giggling as the passengers finally relaxed after the frightening landing.
Namjoon swiveled-
Yoongi was a shade paler than even his usual alabaster tone, but he broke into a gummy smile when he noticed the leader checking on them, and gently jostled Jimin until the younger glanced up and added his own reassuring smile, even if it was someone tumultuous. Namjoon didn't worry- he noted Yoongi squeezing Jimin's hand where it was clutched between his own. Jimin was fine, and even if he wasn't, he was in good hands.
He could already hear Hoseok behind him, and the man sounded exactly as he'd expect Hobi to sound after the scare; namely 'high as a kite' as he chattered away at lightning speed. Hobi was good.
And doing a great job of distracting Jin-hyung from his own sudden adrenaline induced comedown, their oldest looked positively jittery as he nodded along to Hobi declaring war on potholes. Namjoon suspected Hobi knew exactly what he was doing; the man was only a ditz on the outside.
Jin had the hand not clutched over his chest "-thought I was going to have a heart attack!", on Taehyung's jean-clad thigh, kneading comfortingly as the younger-
Yawned, mouth opening in a not at all attractive gape, stretching slightly by arching into the seat before settling back into the curve of Hoseok's side, tipping his head sideways, eyes blinking shut.
Well.
Namjoon turned back toward the front and realized that Sejin was waiting to catch his eyes from several rows ahead, where the manager was seated with several other staff members and a few of their security personnel (a sad necessity, considering the increasing fervor of their fanbase). Sejin raised a questioning eyebrow, pointedly throwing his gaze wider to encompass the rest of the motley crew surrounding Namjoon.
Smiling at the man's concern, Namjoon nodded- mouthing 'okay' with a small smile to accompany it. The manager smiled back and turned to finish organizing his own belongings for deplaning as they coasted to a stop.
Above him, the seatbelt light dinged off, and Namjoon unclipped, the sound echoing through the cabin as several hundred others did the same. Reaching down he grabbed his backpack, pausing briefly to re-tie his left shoelace, before pulling the bag into his lap to check that he'd gathered everything up.
He could still hear Hoseok behind him, but he could also hear the scrounging and shuffling of movement and Jin trying to convince Taehyung to put his shoes back on. Everything sounded under control, so Namjoon left them to it.
Ahead, the door finally cracked open, and he couldn't help but grin. Another hour or so, and he would be home again, climbing into his own warm, comfortable bed for the first time in nearly three weeks.
He was going to sleep well tonight.
Three steps ahead of him, Yoongi was still tugging Jimin along by the hand. Or at least, he had him by the hand again. Namjoon couldn't say for sure that the two hadn't separated while Jimin had put his jacket back on, but it did seem somewhat likely. He was also pretty sure that Taehyung had a fist tangled in the back of Yoongi's sweater, allowing the older Daegu boy to pull him through the busy terminal like a living tugboat.
One Two Three
Hoseok was walking backward beside him, chatting about the statistics of planes crashing on landing, and how "completely unfair that was. It's like those awful horror movies of Kook's, where everything seems good at the end and then- bam! You get dead anyway!"
Four
Namjoon nodded, murmuring something arbitrarily agreeable that seemed to satisfy Hoseok because the dancer continued babbling away at his side.
In front of them, Taehyung suddenly detached from Yoongi and sidled back down the hallway. As he passed by them, his long fingers tugged on the sleeve of Namjoon's jacket. (And seriously, when Namjoon had asked them to let him know if they were suddenly going to move somewhere else when in crowded, uncontrolled locations, he'd meant it more like 'use your words.' But- well, he was aware that Tae had moved so, point.)
He turned his head to follow the singers progression until he reached Jin, lifted their hyungs arm and plastered himself against his side, drawing the pilfered limb across his chest to complete the side hug. Jin just laughed and tugged him closer.
FiveSi-
Five
Jin made Five, and he didn't need to worry about Six because right about now Kookie was on a plane to Japan to meet his parents. Namjoon shook his head as he reminded himself of the fact for the umpteenth time since they'd left the maknae at the airport earlier.
Not that it made much difference, he was sure he'd keep looking for the youngest every time he glanced up. It was a habit now. Instinctual to know where each member was at all times; especially in crowded or unpredictable environments when his 'leader' instincts were at their most developed.
Not that he truly had reason to worry, what with Sejin-manager only meters ahead, along with a myriad of other staff members, many of whom had developed a second calling of monitoring and protecting the members under their charge as much as the actual responsibility they were employed for.
Not to mention the security personnel that even now led the way into the arrival lounge and flanked them from the rear. Bangtan was well looked after; Namjoon just couldn't help the developed feeling that they were firstly his responsibility. Probably the 'leader thing' blending with a good dash of 'hyung.'
Whatever the case, Namjoon resigned himself to looking for one Jeon Jungkook way too much over the next few days. An exercise in futility if there ever was one.
As they followed the flow of passengers out into the arrival lounge, Namjoon was relieved to notice the lack of BTS banners and screaming fans waiting to greet them. He felt bad for the thought even as it passed through his mind; he was grateful for such a dedicated and growing fan base, but it was so late, and he was just-
They were all tired of the masks and pretense and being perfectly well behaved for the cameras (well, okay - not perfectly, but at least appropriately. And though the masks were in a way, still them, still an honest representation- they were still masks, carefully constructed and effortfully maintained).
He was ready to be just 'Namjoon' for a few days. Maybe even 'Namjoonie' if he felt so inclined. No camera's, eyes, pressures or pretenses. Just them, being themselves.
As the majority of their fellow passengers trickled around them toward the baggage claim conveyor area, Namjoon felt a sweep of gratitude that the latest travel developments for the members include no longer having to stake out baggage claim. Someone would be doing that for them from now on.
They just had to go through customs (Namjoon eyed the lack of line-up in the customs area ahead and was relieved- the seven of them should only take a few moments. Six.) And then through the airport toward the parking lot (he'd have to keep an eye on those most likely to be drawn towards the cafe's and eateries. It was midnight; no one needed to be drinking coffee, but a snack would be okay if anyone were inclined) and then they could pile into the waiting car and-
Home sweet home.
And more importantly, his bed.
Grinning to himself Namjoon picked up his pace, threading an arm through Hoseok's to pull him along. Hoseok, (now chattering about buttered croissants for some reason that Namjoon might have missed) followed easily enough, and soon Namjoon had led them through customs, answered the necessary questions, and passed through the secured area into the public section of the airport.
It was busier in here; people waiting for loved ones, the crisp suits of hired chauffers, those early birds traveling later in the day, the occasional terminal janitor staff or floor manager. A few aircraft enthusiasts lining the glassed viewing platform, and the oddballs who chose to shop or eat at the airport because why not.
It certainly wasn't crowded like LAX two days before Christmas, but there was bustle enough that Namjoon's eyes automatically sought out each of the members before him; Taehyung, Jimin, Hoseok, Yoongi, Jin.
It wasn't until everyone was deemed safe and accounted for that Namjoon noticed the oddness of the atmosphere surrounding them. He'd been through enough airports at every hour of the day and night, when absolutely packed, or with only the few red-eye fliers, to know what an airport was supposed to sound like.
Pockets of chatter, laughter, the occasional isolated tears and exclamations of distress; blending into a dull hum of indecipherable voices and emotions.
Or the cacophony of half controlled pandemonium; in the case of LAX two days before Christmas.
The odd half-hushed, yet consistent buzz of negative energy that pervaded the entire terminal was setting Namjoon's teeth on edge with a dull tingle of apprehension, and he hurried their pace toward the exit, and the car waiting beyond.
In the end, he saw it in the reflection of the floor to ceiling window bedside the automatic doors. The bright movement and flicker of color drawing his eye, the large screened TV from within the terminal clearly reflected against the dark backdrop of the night sky through the glass-
It was the typical framing of a news broadcast, network logo and program names small indecipherable footprints in the uppermost corners, a distinguished looking anchor seated at a desk, studio splashback visible behind-
It took his mind only seconds to reverse the reflection of the scrolling text across the bottom - Breaking News: Reports of Plane Crash
And even as the words failed to compute, the image changed, a bright blue 'LIVE' dropdown appearing at the top of the screen, embossed over the aerial footage of a green rural area; centered on the stark white of an airplane belly, shredded into a black torn mess.
The six or seven steps to the van door were a blur. The cityscape seemed to have tilted on its axis and was starting to spin around him in dizzying streaks of light. Somehow, he followed Hoseok into the vehicle, moving by rote alone as he clicked his seatbelt into place.
Plane Crash.
Maybe he'd read it wrong. Maybe-
But no, because even if he could maybe, somehow inexplicably manage to convince himself that the news report had read 'Plant Rash' or 'Planet Trash,' he still couldn't get the image of that torn and demolished plane carcass out of his head.
Plane Crash.
Plane Crash.
A plane had crashed.
Somewhere. Maybe it hadn't been local. Perhaps not even in South Korea at all. Maybe it had been an international news segment. Someone else's tragedy.
His mind swam with possibilities, half-remembered statistics, and likelihoods. Chances were-
Chances were it had nothing to do with-
It lingered though, in the back of his mind; a cloying dread that he refused to acknowledge. That remained unnamed. But that he could not forget, no matter how hard he tried to reason it out of his brain with logic and rationalization.
The drive home could have taken ten minutes, or perhaps an hour- Namjoon had no recollection, but the cool draft of air that slapped him in the face as the door suddenly slid open brought reality slamming back for an instant. Prodding from his left had him tumbling himself from the van into the driveway, his feet hitting the pavement and moving him out of the way as the rest of the members spilled out behind him.
He stared as their driver returned Jin's bow and reclaimed his seat behind the wheel; His name was Nang Han Wi, and he'd been one of their primary drivers since before debut. Namjoon knew the man had two children, both older than himself- a boy (Nang Jae Ho) and a girl (Nang Yoo Ri). They had two dogs. Namjoon knew their names too.
Nag Han Wi remembered each of their birthdays and always asked after Namjoon's family.
He was also undoubtedly an adult, with a lot more years adulting under his belt than Namjoon. A trustworthy, compassionate adult. Namjoon could tell him; he'd probably know what to do. What to say.
Namjoon did nothing, said nothing and the van backed out and drove away, down the road until it disappeared around the corner. Namjoon turned instead and followed the others inside, pulling the door closed behind himself on auto-pilot.
Leaning against the side table in the hallway, he watched as the members kicked off shoes and shed jackets, smiling and mocking each other; their laughter reaching him as if through a heavy blanket or as if he were listening from just under the surface of a still pond.
Everyone felt two paces away, separated from and untouchable to him alone.
One by one they simply disappeared; where to, Namjoon didn't know, but they were gone. He stayed, leaning against the table and stared at the shoes lining the wall.
When he glanced up again, he was at the kitchen table, staring at a steaming mug sitting in front of him.
It had bunny teeth drawn on in sharpie.
Lifting the cup to cradle the warmth between the palms of his hands, Namjoon found himself mumbling over the rim, "There was a news report about a plane crash as we left the airport. I can't-"
Across from him, Jin stared. And of course, it was Jin, his own warm drink balanced between his hands, soft pink pajamas and slightly damp hair revealing a passage of time that Namjoon couldn't fill with anything other than debilitating anxiety.
"Joon-ah..." Jin breathed, and he seemed genuinely horrified, lost for words even.
It was enough to prompt Namjoon into further explanation in which he managed to say a whole lot by not saying much at all, "I mean, I don't know anything, just saw the headline. But I can't stop thinking, and it isn't- I mean there's no way, right? It couldn't be. Hyung? "
Jin was still staring at him, dark eyes wide with distress as realized just what unbidden thought had been hounding Namjoon; and then he blinked, pulling his phone from who knew where, the screen lighting up beneath nimble thumbs even as he answered, "No. No, Joon-ah. It's not-"
And then Jin fell silent.
After several hollow seconds of silent staring, the older slowly set the phone on the table beside his tea, and even upside down from two feet away, Namjoon was able to read the updated headline.
'Breaking News: Plane Crash Tonight: 17km from Gimhae'
Gimhae. Where they'd just flow out of.
Tonight. Plane Crash.
Namjoon glanced at the timestamp in the corner of the phone. A strange pragmatism suddenly grasping him as he pulled his own phone from his pocket, " Right. It's fine. He should have- He was flying out at 11:20 and it's 1:45 now; he should have landed. I'm going to- I'll call him."
The phone went straight to message bank, and Namjoon hit the 'End Call' button before Jungkook's voice could shatter the calm, logical serenity that had settled over him in the face of the oncoming wave of terror he could feel building behind his eyelids.
Jin took a strangled sip of his tea, grabbing his own phone, "His phone is just flat. Or he's asleep- you know what he's like when he's asleep. Just- I'll text him. So he...So he knows to call us. He'll call us."
Namjoon stared at the phone cradled in his own palms, the screen dimmed but still illuminated enough that Jungkook's contact listing beckoned as if just waiting for Namjoon to press the call button again.
He needed-
It was nearing 2am, and there had been a plane crash near Gimhae and Jung-
Namjoon had to call Sejin-manager.
Jin's hand curled into his, squeezing as the seemingly endless ringing sounded for the fourth time. Namjoon wasn't sure if the older was offering or seeking comfort, wasn't sure if he was taking or giving either.
The tinny speaker of the phone echoing loudly in the bated breath of the kitchen.
Namjoon had just begun to wonder if he should be more or less concerned if this call weren't answered when the staticky click echoed from the phone, and Sejin spoke, "Namjoon-ah? You should be asleep. " The Manager words and tone were calm and unaffected as he ever was, if slightly exasperated and a little disproving.
His actual voice though was the tightened jagged-edged thing that came from choked on emotion.
Namjoon knew that Sejin knew. Knew something.
"Manager-nim," Namjoon started, before gagging on the actual words, unable to force anything like the questions he needed to ask from his lips.
Seokjin didn't even try to step in, his own face pinched into a twisted expectation of devastation that Namjoon couldn't bear to look at. His hand trembled slightly within Namjoon's.
Sejin knew though. Although, it seemed he really didn't.
"We- We just don't know. I'm sorry. I'm- We're doing our best to get information, but- I don't know. I hope- I can't-. " Sejin paused for a shuddery breath that sounded wet even over the phone and then managed to wheeze out in a choked-off rasp, " I don't know what to tell you. Just - hope. I'll call. I promise- as soon as... I'll call." and then the line went dead.
Namjoon stared at Jin, Jin stared back. Namjoon dropped his gaze to where their hands were threaded together on the table between them. He squeezed, Jin squeezed back.
Taking a deep breath, Namjoon gathered whatever faith he could find, desperate belief holding his voice firm as he declared, "He's fine. It's not his flight. Until we hear differently, he's fine."
Jin's voice didn't waver when the older echoed him, "He's fine."
He'd call soon, and Jin-hyung would yell at him, and Kookie would pout at them over the phone and Namjoon would have to intervene before Jin tried to commandeer the next fast boat to Japan...
Kookie would call.
Namjoon settled himself more comfortably at the table, and he reached for his cup, gulping a mouthful of the liquid. He didn't even bother trying to hide the way his face twisted at the grossly tepid taste.
"Give it here you big baby, I'll make us a fresh cup." Jin scolded, reaching for the cup that Namjoon proffered him with a sheepish smile.
Reassured now that he knew Seokjin wasn't going anywhere in the near future (Namjoon hadn't thought he would, but hadn't been able to put the question into words. "Will you sit up and wait with me because I can't- I don't-" )
Glancing at the clock on the kitchen bench beside their shopping list book (Banana Milk was scribbled across the top, with a cute little doodle of a very panicked half-peeled banana below).
Namjoon looked away quickly, replying, "Maybe coffee?" the unspoken reference to what was probably going to be a long anxious night dropping heavily into the room.
At the counter Jin nodded silently, swapping the teabag in hand for the coffee jar. After adding a generous spoon to each mug, he turned to peer at Namjoon over his shoulder, chewing on his lower lip, "We should- Should we... What- The others?"
The others.
His mind made about twenty arguments at once, in favor, against; reasons for and reasons naught, but within seconds Namjoon knew he just couldn't.
Physically could not.
He couldn't wake the others up to tell them-
He didn't care if they would want to know. Deserved to know. If they would feel that they needed to know. Namjoon did not care.
He couldn't be the one to tell them-
Jin was staring at him again, and Namjoon knew he must be telegraphing his every thought because warmth was wrapping around him and that was-
That was-
Namjoon drew his arms up between them, curling into himself within Jin's grasp as he whispered, "I can't hyung. I can't do that to them."
"Hey- hey, no. That wasn't what I meant. There's nothing to tell. He's fine. Let them sleep, better than worrying needlessly like us fools- "
Namjoon flinched, pulling away because-
Jin muttered, "Pabo" and dragged him closer again, and that was about as affectionately as Namjoon had ever been called an idiot before.
The swell of emotion had him relaxing back into Jin's embrace as the older scolded gently, "Not me. I'm- I'm your- You tell me, Namjoon-ah. I'm the one you tell. Got it? " Jin fell silent- and then swatted at him with the coffee spoon still dangling from long fingers.
"Ah- Got it! Got it!" Namjoon yelped, pulling away from the hug, and the offending utensil in Jin's grasp.
Jin let him go, turning back toward his coffee preparations, and Namjoon moved backward to lean against the table watching as the older went through the familiar movements.
Kim Seokjin was-
Everything. Namjoon owed so much of himself to the older man; so much of what he had been able to become, what they had been able to become, never would have been if not for the support of this wonderful, wonderful man.
"Got it, hyung" Namjoon repeated softly, just to see the soft half-smile as the older turned to hand his coffee to him.
In the mug with the bunny teeth drawn in sharpie.
Namjoon's own smile faded. He hadn't forgotten, he just hadn't been thinking about it. That was all.
He glanced at the time again. It had only been five minutes since he'd last looked.
It had been five minutes though. Sliding his phone across the table with his fingertips, Namjoon swiped to unlock and speed dialed off the recent contacts list.
Almost immediately the call went straight to message bank, the familiar strains of their maknaes recording filtering into the quiet, "Hi, This is Jeon Jungk-"
(He'd been slightly breathy from laughing at Yoongi-hyung. Namjoon remembered.) He didn't leave a message.
"He's fine" Seokjin repeated, and again, "He's fine," taking a sip of his coffee as if that would somehow punctate his words with truth.
Forcing out a weak mumble of agreement, Namjoon turned his head to avoid the weight of Jin's searching eyes, staring unseeing into the living room beyond, losing his gaze in the blend of darkness and shadow.
A flicker of peripheral movement caught his attention, and Namjoon blinked. Setting his mug on the table, he stood slowly, stepping toward the living room doorway-
"Jimin-ah?", he voiced quietly, wondering just how much the younger had heard-
Jimin was seated on the floor, dead-center of the lounge room; just out of the arcing curve of light that spread outward from the open kitchen door. Deliberately out of sight of he and Jin in the kitchen; but easily close enough to eavesdrop on certain parts of their conversation.
Jimin didn't reply, didn't move.
This definitely wasn't something that Namjoon had wanted any of the others to learn about by overhearing it.
And as he stepped beyond the light of the kitchen, Namjoon's eyes adjusted enough to see that Jimin wasn't just sitting. The dancer was curled into himself in an almost fetal crouch; his head pressed to his knees, arms wrapped tightly around his legs.
Even in the darkness, Namjoon could see the shuddering tremors that shook his dongsaengs entire body.
He was also absolutely and utterly silent.
Namjoon reached to his left, needing two goes to hit the light switch. He ignored Jin's questioning exclamation in favor of calling Jimin's name again.
Jin-hyung would follow regardless.
Crumpling to the carpet in a graceless mess of worry and confusion, Namjoon hesitated for only a second before settling his hands on Jimin's shoulders, squeezing and kneading as he questioned worriedly, "Jiminie? Jimin- "
What was he supposed to say? How was he supposed to-
Jin dropped to his knees on the youngers other side, and Namjoon looked up, meeting the older's eyes; sure his own were helpless, desperate.
Jin didn't spare him more than a second of an understanding glance before he was turning to Jimin, and his voice might have been laced with the same crippling worry as Namjoon's own but it was absolutely certain in its comfort as he spoke, "Jimin-ah? Oh, sweethe..." Trailing off, he leaned forward and folded Jimin into his arms, the smaller all but engulfed by the all-encompassing hug.
And Jimin just melted. Uncoiling from his brittle self-embrace, he pressed into Seokjin's warmth; dropping his phone to the carpet with a thud as he moved to fist small trembling hands into the loose material of Jin's pajama top.
Namjoon picked up the phone.
Pressed the power button.
Typed in the code. 130612
And stared down at the same images of the demolished plane he'd seen briefly on the news report earlier-
Only, he realized, it wasn't the exact same footage.
He could clearly see charred, broken seating from the plane and baggage debris spread across the field, radiating from the epicenter of the crash.
And also what could only be human remains.
Namjoon wondered just how horrified his gasp had been, to cause Jimin to look up.
The younger was a mess of blotchy pink skin, flushed messily across glistening wet cheeks, his eyes red-rimmed and bloodshot. No longer pressed to the saturated fabric of his pajama bottoms, his tiny gasping sobs were stifled into bitten back whimpers.
Jimin had seen the report. Seen the pictures. Realised what they could mean. And he'd been alone.
"Aih, Jiminie... Baby-" Jin breathed, and Namjoon glanced up only to be dragged back by Jimin's hands suddenly curling around his wrists, squeezing even as he tugged for Namjoon's attention.
"Hyung- " his eyes locked with Namjoon's, even as his hands began to tremble violently, as he bodily forced himself to continue "-Kookie.".
The word fell out a warped, jagged-edged whisper of devastation, and he shattered, harsh hiccuping sobs exploded loudly into the nearly silent room.
"No! No, Jiminie, no- It's not- We don't. ", Namjoon reassured disjointedly, reaching out to curl his finger into Jimin's sweat-dampened hair as he tried again, "Jimin-ah, we don't know anything about the- about the crash. It probably wasn't even- Everything is- He's-"
Namjoon struggled to find the right thing to say. He could make hollow promises built on nothing but luck and hope to himself; could even encourage others self-consolation attempts, but to actively tell Jimin that everything was going to be okay?
God how he hoped, believed, needed everything to be okay-
But he couldn't...He couldn't be responsible for breaking Jimin's heart twice.
Namjoon stared helplessly at the wide eyes begging him for reassurance even if it had to be based on a lie.
Two words. 'He's fine.'
That was all he had to say.
It should be simple; after all, Namjoon had been telling himself the same for the past hour.
"Uh- What's going on? Namjo- Jiminie?" Yoongi's unexpected voice transitioned from sleepy bemusement to concern within the span of three words.
Namjoon pulled his gaze away from Jimin to find the older rapper standing on the bottom step, looking sleep rumbled and bleary-eyed as he gazed worriedly at Jimin, and his obvious engagement in some much-needed Jin-hyung provided comfort.
Hoseok was on the step-tread above, draped forward with his arms looped around Yoongi's shoulders, his head lolling sideways against the banister as he tried to blink the lingering talons of sleep away.
Namjoon had never wished for anything so much as to just be able to tell them to go back to sleep. That everything was fine.
Instead, he glanced at the time.
It was nearing an hour since he should have landed.
"I need to talk to everyone. Come sit down." He was grateful that everyone seemed willing to ignore the way his voice tightened and cracked on the last syllable.
Yoongi and Hoseok cautiously made their way across the room to the empty sofa, and Namjoon could see that the pair of them were growing increasingly worried, only the clear seriousness of the matter curbing their obvious desire to ask questions.
Once would be hard enough.
Pulling himself to his feet, Namjoon helped Jin gather Jimin's weight into his arms, the younger making no effort of his own beyond baby koala'ing onto Jin tighter. The awful heart-wrenching sobbing had stopped, but Jimin looked like he was holding onto his newfound emotional calm with bare fingertips and any slight jostle would wrest it free.
Jin folded himself into the free corner of the couch, Jimin settled half on his lap, half squished into the slight gap beside Hoseok.
Namjoon sat slowly on the edge of the coffee table in front of them, leaning forward to dangle his hands between his knees as he tried to gather his thoughts.
He'd done this once. With jin. He could do it again.
He took a deep breath.
"Firstly- We don't know anything yet. Remember that; we have no information. Everything is probably- Everything could be just fine. There's no use panicking yet-", looking up he wondered if his supposed reassurance had done more harm than good; Hoseok was chewing on his lower lip, a nervous habit if Namjoon had ever seen one, and Namjoon suspected Yoongi's unnaturally emotionless face was masking the exact opposite.
He didn't have a gentler way of saying this though, and they- now that they were awake, aware...they would find out one way or another. He didn't want them finding out like Jimin.
"I saw a news report about a plane crash outside Gimhae earlier tonight."
Namjoon saw the instant his inference computed, Hoseok's eyes widening in horror-
Yoongi ran for the bathroom.
"No. You're- You're lying! You're lying. That's not, that's not even funny." Hoseok spat at him, and Namjoon spun back from watching Yoongi's retreat in concern because what the hell-
Hoseok was on his feet, staring at Namjoon, fists clenched, and Namjoon knew that Hoseok had never thought it was a joke. The heated accusation in such friendly eyes didn't affect Namjoon so much as the wrecked hurt in Hoseok's voice, the other choking out angrily, "He- Why did you let him- You- "
"Enough," Jin growled, dragging Hoseok towards him by the wrist, folding the younger down into his hold. The dancer snarled and pulled away, but Jin refused to let go, his voice a soothing litany of wordless murmuring.
A second pair of arms banded around Hobi's stomach and he stilled immediately-
Likely he'd forgotten entirely that Jimin was curled-up beside Jin; easily a victim of an uncontrolled fist or elbow.
Namjoon just stared as Jin murmured inaudibly into the dancer's ear until Hobi sagged against him, turning to look at Namjoon with what was pretty obvious prompting by Jin.
"Sorry, Joon." he bit out, his stare going back to his feet as he sat tense and obviously uncomfortable in Jin's unrelinquishing hold.
Namjoon heard the sincerity, despite the terseness of the apology. He also heard the helpless boiling rage at the sheer unfairness of the entire situation. Understood it. Shared it.
He had to get out of the room.
It felt like his skin was crawling, stretched tight and itching across his shoulders. He desperately needed two minutes to just- to...
To breath.
To not think.
"I'm going to check on Yoongi and Tae."
"I'm here." Yoongi offered quietly from his left, and Namjoon looked up. His hyung was definitely still a bit green, his throat working as he swallowed convulsively, but he sounded convincing as he continued, "I just- I need- I need to do something... I'm going to call him. Just- you should check on Tae."
Namjoon knew he should have stayed. Been the one to explain that they'd been calling for hours now. Stayed to cut the call before messagebank could-
But - he just couldn't. Couldn't sit there for even a moment longer and watch Hoseok simmer with anger directed at anyone and everyone because being angry with circumstance was pointless. Couldn't watch Yoongi fret himself into physical illness. Couldn't watch Jin try his absolute best to keep everyone together and functioning while he slowly disintegrated from the inside out.
Couldn't watch Jimin fight not to break down because he feared one of his best friends, one of his brothers, was one of the torn, bloodied-
He used Taehyung as an excuse to hightail it up the stairs and into the privacy of his bedroom for a few moments.
Only his bedroom wasn't empty, and neither was his bed.
Taehyung was draped sideways across the bottom, with one arm caught inside his pajama top and damp hair still glistening in the hallway light.
He was also thankfully, enviously, blissfully asleep.
Namjoon sat down gently on the mattress beside their second youngest, itching to reach out and card his fingers through Taehyung's soft mop of hair or just curl himself around the younger and close his eyes. Maybe then it would all just be a dream. A nightmare that he could wake-up from.
But he didn't, because he couldn't stand the thought of accidentally waking Taehyung.
The thought of having to explain the-
To Tae... Who wore his heart on his sleeve and was just so- soft?
It would be no worse than having told any one of the others; but it would be Tae, who was Tae. Sleeping and peaceful and content.
Namjoon just- he couldn't. Not yet.
Gently tucking the loose edges of the comforter around the younger, Namjoon quietly stole back out of the room, taking a deep breath before he padded back down the stairs.
Jin glanced up as soon as he entered his line of sight, Yoongi, Hoseok and Jimin's worried eyes only a half second behind. Namjoon answered their question simply, "He's still asleep."
The lump that had been steadily clogging his throat all night swelled-
Even with this-
This whole possi... this situation hanging over their heads, they all still found time and energy to be concerned about one another, as well as just their own distress.
Namjoon didn't know what he would do if it all fell apa-
Nothing was falling apart. He was fine.
Jin relaxed slightly, "Good. That's good. - We tried calling again." Namjoon already knew that there had been no answer. Jin would have lead with anything else.
"I'll- I'll call Sejin-manager again," Namjoon replied, and he moved to retrieve his phone from the kitchen. He knew already that Sejin would have called if he knew anything more, but he couldn't think of anything else to do- and he had to do something.
This time the phone rang only once before their manager answered, "Namjoon-ah?"
"Yes, Hyung-nim, and - everyone else. 'cept Taehyung." Namjoon explained quietly and hoped that Sejin would have something to pass on that he could tell the others in response to the weight of their near-desperate gazes he could feel on his back.
Sejin sounded almost defeated as he sighed, "Yeah? I'm not exactly surprised, although I had hoped most of them were asleep..."
Namjoon hummed in agreement.
What else could he say?
"I'm sorry, Joon- I don't have much else for you. We're getting nothing out of any official channels and just a lot of contradictory information out of the non-official ones. They can't even confirm what the flight number was for certain. And some are- Joon, some are saying survivors. I'm- I'm driving to Gimhae right now. I thought they might have a harder time avoiding me if they couldn't hang up. I'm doing everything I can. I promise."
Namjoon startled slightly when he realized that Sejin had been leaving gaps in the conversation where he had obviously been meant to reply, but for the life of him, he couldn't get past the words 'survivors'.
He forced himself to answer "Hyung. We know. Just- it's-"
Sejin hummed understandingly, "I know, Joon-ah. I have to go now, but - call me whenever if you need to. Okay?"
The called ended, and Namjoon turned back to the small huddle on the couch.
Jimin was still curled up, although he was now mostly in Yoongi's lap, the older running gentle fingers through this hair. Jimin was silent, his eyes closed, but Namjoon knew there was just no way he was asleep. Not now.
Hoseok had slid down between Jin and Yoongi, into Jimin's vacated niche. He was all but caved into their oldest hyungs side, Jin's arm wrapped around his shoulders.
Hoseok didn't look angry anymore. He didn't look much of anything. Namjoon could never remember seeing a more blank look on Hoseok's, especially expressive face.
The room was silent.
Not three minutes late, Namjoon's phone rang.
The caller id said Sejin- manager, and Namjoon swiped to answer with fumbling fingers, shakily bring his phone to his ear, "Sejin-hyung?"
Silence greeted him, but Namjoon could hear the soft sounds of breathing, and then- "They just confirmed the plane. It's UA FLIGHT 6147. "
Icy cold water trickled in at his ankles, slowly rising to numb him and steal his ability to breath-
"There are survivors. They're reporting survivors, Namjoon. He could- He might- Don't give up yet. "
Namjoon didn't remember hanging up or dropping the phone, but it was gone from his grasp, hitting the carpet at his feet with a dull thud as he turned around.
"It's - Sejin said- There were survivors. " He mumbled, stumbling forward but missing his intended spot on the couch, falling to his knees beside the coffee table.
No one replied.
Namjoon wondered if he'd even spoken aloud.
It was Yoongi, wonderful practical realist Yoongi who finally answered, "Changes nothing. Nothing! Until- Until they come here and knock down that door to tell me differently- he's, he's fine. "
Namjoon shook the stupor from his muscles, breathing deeply to calm his suddenly racing heartbeat. Yoongi was right. He was fine.
In his head, Namjoon started turning fine to 'alive.'
No one spoke for the next few minutes, though Namjoon wondered what they could possibly say anyway. It wasn't the time for easy reassurances. (The word 'survivors' had stripped that possibility away. Whatever came now would be hard won. Plane Crash. Survivor.)
The idea of making small talk just seemed so contrived. As much as Namjoon was doing everything he could to avoid thinking about what was actually happening right now, talking about the weather just seemed improper. (This was life. Their lives. His life. His life. Not something Namjoon would ever trivialize).
He couldn't even think about the whole situation and all its varied possible outcomes. Let alone talk realistically about the future. (He was fine. That was the future).
"I'm going to - I'll make hot drinks" Jin murmured, pulling himself from the sofa with a gentle squeeze to the nape of Hoseok's neck and disappeared into the kitchen.
Namjoon didn't want a hot drink and didn't think anyone else did either. He didn't think it was worth voicing and didn't think anyone else did either.
He picked up his phone.
Stared at the darkened screen between his palms.
Dropped it onto the table beside him.
Picked it back up, hovered over the power button (Maybe he'd pick up?)
Put it back down.
A soft sob caught his ear and Namjoon looked up.
Jimin was crying again.
Namjoon blinked his own stinging eyes.
He wanted to hug Jimin, but Yoongi was already there, wrapping the younger into warmth and understanding.
Namjoon wanted to be hugged.
Jin returned with two cups, one in each hand that he placed on the coffee table beside Namjoon's phone. "They're all the same." The oldest intoned softly, which was like...
None of them drank their tea or coffee the same way consistently, and Jin knew precisely how each of them liked it.
But then, it wasn't really about the drink, it was about having something to do. Anything.
Namjoon stood slowly, picking up the first cup and moving to crouch in front of Hoseok, "Hobi? Hoba-ah. Here- "
Hoseok looked up from where his face was buried in his hands, and - Namjoon was surprised that there were no tears to accompany the red-rimmed eyes, the downturned lips and slight tremble of his chin.
Hoseok eyed him, and then seemed to find his voice, "Joon? I don't wan-"
"For Jin-hyung. It's warm. Just- just hold it, okay?" Namjoon coaxed, pressing the cup into hands that didn't resist.
Jin returned with two more cups as Namjoon picked up the second, turning to Yoongi who reached out to meet him as he passed the hot drink. The cup settled on the armrest held loosely in the cradle of Yoongi's hand, and that where Namjoon was sure it would sit until it turned cold and curdled.
He sat Jimin's on the coffee table in front of the younger, knowing there was no way he would convince Jimin to let go of Yoongi's hoodie.
Namjoon picked up the next mug and held it out to Taehyung-
Taehyung.
Namjoon dropped the mug to the table blindly, not caring when he heard liquid slosh as he hurried across the room, hoping that Taehyung had no idea what he'd walked into-
"Don't touch me."
It wasn't snarled or said sharply- just a hollow request that Taehyung obviously expected to be followed without argument.
Namjoon slowly lowered his hands from where they hovered about the younger's shoulders.
His eyes-
They looked flat; aware, but not alive. His pupils were blown as large as Namjoon had ever seen, ringed by a too glossy brown, so dark as to appear almost black. How someone's eyes could become sunken in a matter of minutes, Namjoon didn't know, but the ashy parchment grey of his skin, leeched of all color, turned the existing dark circles into bruise like hollows.
"Don't touch me" Taehyung repeated, equally as serious but much less sure this time, as if his entire being where stitched with loose tatters of denial that would unpick with the gentlest tug, leaving him to fly apart.
Namjoon backed away, hands raised placatingly, and Taehyung slumped, sliding down the wall slowly to sit on the floor. He pulled the backpack that Namjoon had previously failed to notice to his chest, clutching it close as he yanked the cords of his headphones out- pressing the buds into his ears and dropping his head back, closing his eyes.
Checking out of could see the appeal, but that logical, pragmatic side of his brain was screaming the only possible truth, and Namjoon didn't know how much longer he could ignore it.
Namjoon briefly wondered how Taehyung had found out. Like Jiminie? With a terrifying headline and photos of his- Of his only dongsaeng-
Something else? Was there more information available? Should he check the internet? Could he bare to-
His phone rang. Sejin-Manager.
Namjoon scrambled to grab the handset and then hesitated to actually answer. What if Sejin was ringing to tell them-
"He's fine. He's fine- answer it hyung. He's fine!" Jimin begged, and Namjoon swiped to answer the call.
"Namjoon-ah, you need to stay off the internet. Keep the kids off."
Namjoon wasn't sure how the 'kids' felt being referred to as such, especially when he was sure that Sejin didn't necessarily mean only Jimin and Tae. He also didn't know how he felt about the fact that it felt more natural than he was entirely sure what to do with.
Namjoon stopped ignoring the way his throat was falling into his gut as he forced himself to answer through the pounding of his heart, "H-hyung-"
"No! No- still nothing. Shit, sorry- sorry. No. Just, somehow the media found out that a member was allegedly on the flight and- Well, they don't even know who, which is possibly making it worse. I don't have to tell you that it's blowing up."
Sejin was right, he didn't.
They weren't like, 'mega-famous' or anything, but their fanbase was... loyal, enthusiastic, vocal and somewhat inclined to dramatics.
"How- I mean, we didn't even see anyone- never mind. It doesn't matter now. Just- …. What about Mr. and Mrs. Jeon? " Namjoon answered, the thought suddenly occurring to him.
He couldn't imagine getting off a plane in Japan thinking everything was fine, only to be met with-
"PD Bang's brother-in-law is going to meet them at the airport as soon as they land...in about five hours. I'm about an hour from Gimhae- I have to go Namjoon, but I'll call back as soon as I have something."
Sejin ended the call.
Namjoon was torn, he wanted to know (or maybe he didn't, but he had to), but just...he didn't think he could handle seeing it so personally. And ARMY? About as personal as it could get. He knew their devastation would be unbearable. Like an outward pouring of everything bottled up inside himself.
"We're to stay off the internet. ARMY knows." Namjoon said quietly as he dropped his phone again. No one protested. Namjoon wondered if anyone had the energy to spare for protests, too busy trying to batter down the same rising wall of horror that threatened to box him in.
"The TV," Hoseok muttered, and Namjoon turned to raise an eyebrow, not following. Everyone's eyes on him, Hobi continued, subdued, "We should have the TV on. Sejin-hyung is still an hour away. The news might start reporting details before he can get there and find out. We should turn on the TV."
Namjoon blinked. TV news. He hadn't even thought about it, Television such a foreign concept in their hectically scheduled lives that it just hadn't occurred. The big news channels would be amongst the first to report the correct information. And they wouldn't have to filter the internet perspective.
Scooping up the remote from the table, he pressed the red button and the screen jumped to life-
Namjoon didn't even have to press any buttons; the news anchor at his desk the same one he'd seen earlier, the tiny scrolling text across the bottom reading 'We interrupt your regular viewing program for this breaking news.'
Namjoon heard Jin gasp behind him, and he realized that the anchor was talking, "-ast night at approx 11: 40pm. Reports are saying no survi-"
Namjoon's hearing was overwhelmed by a loud guttural keen from somewhere behind him, not unlike a fatally wounded animal, cornered and terrified even as it began the throws of death.
His gaze jumped up to the bold white banner at the top left-
'UA FLIGHT 6147 Tragedy. No Survivors'
The keening didn't stop.
Namjoon stared at the 'No survivors'.
He was fine. He was alive.
No survivors.
Yoongi made it two steps into Namjoon's peripheral before he dropped to his knees and threw up violently.
A cup shattered.
Namjoon finally turned his head; the second cup missed him because of it.
Hoseok screamed. Not like Hoseok screamed though. Namjoon flinched away as the other stood, watching as the dancer's fists clenched until veins popped in his arms-
Hoseok raged toward him, and Namjoon barely thought to step back in time.
Only, not toward him.
The TV smashed to the floor, the screen fizzling and flashing briefly before it faded to black, and Hoseok crumpled to the floor like a marionette with cut strings.
Namjoon could hear the quietly repeated mantra of straight refusal beneath the agony that was his heart trying to force its way from his chest-
"No. No. No. Nono. No. No. Nono. NoNononononoo"
His mantra had Jin-hyungs voice.
Confused, Namjoon turned.
Or Jin had his mantra; the older standing behind the lounge muttering desperately, cup still in hand. Not shattered.
It had bunny teeth drawn on in sharpie.
A chill stole into his lungs, seizing his throat and splashing over his shoulders to seep down his spine like icy water; it was reality, pushing at the fog his mind was cowering behind.
Namjoon looked away-
His gaze found Tae.
Taehyung- still slumped against the wall. Eyes closed. Headphones in.
Taehyung still existed in a world where Jeon Jungkook was-
Where he was fine.
Namjoon wondered, if he stared at Taehyung long enough could he pretend… Could he convince himself? If he watched Taehyung-
If he could be Taehyung; still able to hope. Not yet broken by grief-
Could Namjoon unbreak?
His gaze tunneled, darkening and then fading at the edges until only Taehyung remained.
Namjoon stared, eyeing Taehyung's empty features as the boy moved slightly, digging into the bag in his grasp, rifling-
Searching.
Namjoon wanted to be Taehyung so he could still need for something attainable. Not desperately need something he'd never find again.
Taehyung's phone was dumped on the floor. His glasses followed. Wallet. House keys. Bag of lollies. Passport. Bracelet. Spoon. Phone Charger. Deodorant. Chopstick. Coins. Receipt. Notebook. Pen. Passport. Hat. Chapstick-
Namjoon watched as Taehyung clutched the small white tube in his hands like it was food to a starving man. He popped the lid-
And his eyes suddenly popped open, wide and-
Namjoon closed his before the illusion could shatter.
"H-hyung?"
And Namjoon came back to himself; back to the fist closing on his chest and the burn in his throat-
Because it was no use being Taehyung when Taehyung was standing in from of him; tears welling and falling, trailing down over quivering lips. His blank, empty eyes filling with terrible emotion, so overpowering it was painful for Namjoon to see, let alone feel.
The unplugged headphone jack dangled in front of Taehyung, where it swayed gently between white-knuckled hands that curled, trembling, around two passports.
