Not human. Not human.

Please don't let Yoongi be human.

Anything but human.

But he is. He's so human. So unconditionally human. So full of the feelings he tried to bury decades ago, but now they're crawling out from all the crevices of his existence.Tiny, fractured pieces of his soul that are making their way up, up, up from his stomach until he feels them slicing through the insides of his throat and burning.

He's burning.

He's burning.

And bleeding. Broken from the inside, pouring out blood onto the floor. Tiny drops of blood smearing across the fancy wood in Namjoon's house, little drops of fuel for Yoongi to burn--to set alight with his own matchstick skin.

But nothing burns except his insides, burns through everything he has until there's nothing left.

He's got nothing left in him.

Not a single ounce of strength.

Not a single muscle in his body wants to keep going.

Min Yoongi wants to rot where he's curled in, wants the world to end, wants to be the bug guts at the bottom of someone's shoe.

He thought he was a rock, solid and unbreakable, but the truth is he's never been anything more than a clump of dirt waiting to be crushed into a pile of thousands of tiny specks of him. Yoongi is nothing. He's weak. He's useles. He-

"Can I touch you?" Namjoon's soft voice breaks through all of the loud, loud, loud banging inside of Yoongi's head. "Yoon? Can I touch you? I just want to help you up, ok? My floor is hard and the bed is soft. We can get you into bed, Yoon."

Yoongi shakes his head so fast at that offer. Not a bed. Not a bed. Not where he can be held down and—

"What about the couch?" Namjoon offers instead.

At that, Yoongi turns his face from his hands to stare at Namjoon, feeling his stomach turn. "I—I—

"Yeah?" Namjoon encourages.

He's on the floor too, on his stomach, braced on his hands and bent weirdly so he can be eye level to Yoongi. He's not looking, not hovering, not invading Yoongi's space, he's just existing next to Yoongi and Yoongi swallows thickly. "I cheated on you," Yoongi's voice breaks. "He—he wasn't—he wasn't work."

"No, baby," Namjoon whispers. "You didn't cheat on me." Something in Namjoon's eyes changes, he breaks, and his eyes leak even against his permission. "You didn't cheat," he repeats.

"Kook saw me cheat," Yoongi replies softly, turning his face away from Namjoon as he feels the waves of guilt washing over him, pulling him under where he can drown. "Wh-where's--where's Kook?"

"He's ok," Namjoon says quietly. "He's--baby, he's ok. Kook wanted to--he didn't feel safe so he wanted to sit in the closet. He's ok. He's napping now. He's ok."

"I need to see him. I need to--I need to--" Yoongi tries to get up, tries as hard as he can, but collapses back down to his knees painfully.

"Can I touch you?" Namjoon asks again, moving to stand on his own feet and holding out a trembling hand to Yoongi. "I'm not gonna hurt you, Yoon. It's me. It's just me," Namjoon reassures him. "If you don't want to, uh, touch my skin I can put gloves on. Or if you can't walk and don't wanna touch me, I can wrap you up in a blanket and carry you to him. I can--

Yoongi silences him by taking his hand, gripping onto him so tightly his knuckles go white and helps him to walk towards Namjoon's office.

He doesn't really know what to expect, sort of expects for Kook to be locked up in the closet like he was earlier, curled up in the corner like a frightened animal. But when Yoongi gets inside of the room, he's able to see Jungkook clearly. The little boy is asleep (a bad sleep, filled with nightmares if the whimpering and murmurs is anything to go by) but his tiny body is resting on a makeshift bed of pillows, looking as comfortable as one can when they're sleeping in a closet.

Something in him aches, so he gets down on the ground when he's close enough and reaches out to brush the hair off of Jungkook's face and takes a deep, shaky breath in, and then out. "Can I stay here?" Yoongi asks quietly. "With Kook?"

"Yeah," Namjoon whispers, keeping his distance from the two. "Do--uh--do you want me to order food? I can--uh--I can't cook. You know that but I can try? For you. I'll do it for you if you want me to. I can-

"No," Yoongi stops him. "I'm not hungry."

"Ok."

He's not hungry at all even though his stomach is completely empty. But his skin is still crawling, he still feels....him all over him and he wants him gone. Wants the feeling of someone touching him, holding him down to just go away. Yoongi clears his throat. "Can I shower?"

"You can do whatever you want, Yoon. This is your home too."

Yoongi's insides twist at that and he nods, smiling tightly.

thereisnosuchthingashome.

*

When he showers, he turns the water all the way so that it burns.

And, fuck, does it burn.

But he wants it to. Wants the water from the shower to melt the skin right off his bones until there's nothing left of him except an empty skeleton. But it's not hot enough. So Yoongi digs his nails deep into his skin and claws at the already sensitive flesh until it's raw and nearly bleeding. It's not enough, it's not. But he forces himself out of the shower anyway, bright pink and skin sore and water ice cold.

Namjoon's clothes are laying across some fancy table inside of his bathroom and Yoongi pulls them on so fast, covers every inch of skin that he can and drags himself out of the bathroom and back into the real world.

He gets back only to hear the soft whispers coming from Namjoon's office and he follows it all the way to the man sitting outside of the closet where Jungkook was napping. Except now Jungkook's awake and he's locked himself in, counting loudly and only getting louder the more Namjoon tries to coax him into opening the door.

"Jungkook," Namjoon coos. "Come on,baby. We can watch cartoons."

"Fifty seven. Fifty eight..."

Jungkook is counting and counting and it makes Yoongi's stomach toss and turn. He'd heard Jungkook back there. He'd heard him when he was--he was--

"I have some markers we can use. They're new?" Namjoon tries again.

"Sixty two. Sixty three...."

"We can draw Akimigaara, baby."

The counting comes to a sudden stop and then the sound of nails digging into the floorboards is loud and Namjoon doesn't hesitate to break the lock and open the door just in time to catch Jungkook before he tries to hurt himself. He grabs the little boy, drags him into his arms and holds him tightly as Jungkook tries to fight him off. "It's ok, it's ok. I'm sorry. It's ok, we won't talk about them again, ok? You're ok. You're safe. It's ok. It's ok."

Yoongi is there in an instant, grabbing Jungkook from Namjoon's arms and soothing the boy, rubbing his hair back off of his face and pulling him deeper into the closet together. "We're ok," Yoongi whispers, "we're ok, Kook. You're ok. It's ok. We never have to leave the closet again, ok? We're safe here. We're safe," he repeats until Jungkook goes limp in his arms.

As long as Jungkook feels safe and sound, Yoongi will never leave a closet again. It's fine.

It's fine.

Everything is fine.

*

Yoongi falls asleep cradling Jungkook close in the closet while Namjoon falls asleep on the floor right outside of it, keeping them boxed in and safe.

But when Yoongi wakes up a few hours later, it's to Namjoon quietly walking out of the room. Yoongi waits and waits but doesn't see him come back at all. So he curls up tighter and holds Jungkook closer and starts to count crayons in his head until he falls back asleep.

*

They say things get better in the morning, Yoongi thinks it's bullshit. When he wakes up he feels worse, everything hurts, his body hurts with every little fucking thing. In the morning things aren't better, but morning still comes.

Namjoon still isn't back with them and Yoongi almost panics, but he keeps calm. He stands up off the floor as carefully as possible, holding the little boy in his arms, moving out of the room with him to set him down on the couch. A few more hours of sleep on something more comfortable than the floor will do Kook good.

From there, he sees the backdoor is open and Namjoon is outside pacing, hands shaking, smoking a cigarette. It surprises Yoongi and he steps outside barefooted. "I didn't know you smoked."

"I don't," he admits and shrugs. "Only when I'm stressed."

"Joon, did you sleep?"

Namjoon shakes his head. "I couldn't remember if I locked my door," he whispers. "So I checked. Every ten minutes to make sure it was locked. And then, then I kept thinking Jungkook wasn't breathing. Then, then the doors weren't locked but they were locked and I kept thinking I need to get a fucking dog. Like something massive and, and trained and Jungkook needs to be the one holding his leash. And you need to just not—just stay. Stay. Just fucking stay, ok? Because the doors are locked. I checked."

Yoongi steps up to him, rubs his arms gently and coos.

"No, no, no. Don't do that, don't—don't comfort me, Yoongi," Namjoon says steadily and reaches around to grab Yoongi's shoulders gently. "I'm ok. I didn't—my hands are tied. I can't do anything. I'm panicking because I just want to fucking fix this but I can't but please don't comfort me because it's me who should be comforting you and I'm sorry I'm shitty at it. I don't know how—I just know how to fix it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I don't know what to do."

Yoongi shakes his head and just leans forward, rests his head on Joon's chest and wraps his arms around him. He won't cry again. He won't cry. He's done crying. Time to get over it, he's fine. "I'm ok."

"It's ok not to be," Namjoon murmurs, holds him tightly.

"Joon, people like—this is my life," Yoongi whispers. "I've—it happens. To me it fucking happens. But not in my house. Not in my-it was mine. It was mine. And Jungkook was there," Yoongi's voice wobbles then shatters and he hates himself for still crying over this. "I shoved him in the closet. Joon. He was there. He was fucking there, Joon," Yoongi cries but hides it in his hand. "I didn't yell. I wanted to--I wanted to fucking scream . I wanted to bite his tongue off but, but Kook was there. And I didn't, I didn't want, I just wanted him to be ok. Now he's not fucking ok. He's not ok."

"We can get him into therapy," Namjoon says quickly, moves so that he can kiss the top of Yoongi's head. "Get both of you into something."

"I can't—

"I can't do shit about what happened so please give me this. Please. I'll fucking beg," Namjoon whispers.

So Yoongi gives him that and nods.

He doesn't have time to say anything, though, because they're interrupted by loud screaming. Jungkook is screaming, covering his ears, saying things that don't make sense, crying about the boogeyman, lashing out until Yoongi is there to wrap him in his arms tightly.

Yoongi holds him tightly and Jungkook starts to beg. They don't understand for what until Jungkook is dragging Yoongi into the closet with him, hiding them both in there. He begs Yoongi to not leave ever again.

So Yoongi doesn't leave the closet with Jungkook for hours.

Namjoon brings them pancakes he made himself and sits outside of the closet and watches them eat it in silence.

Yoongi spends the night again sleeping on the closet floor with Jungkook in his arms.

On the third day, Yoongi convinces him that the rest of the house is safe and they can leave the closet. The boogeyman isn't waiting for him, they'll never see the boogeyman again.

"What if he finds you?" Jungkook murmurs, face hidden in Yoongi's neck as they hide in the closet for the last time.

"I'll kill him," Yoongi replies quietly.

Yoongi never lies to Jungkook.

So Jungkook agrees to go out of the closet and bed room and into the living room at least. He's bribed into eating something other than pancakes with promises of markers and paper. So he eats dino nuggets with ketchup but completely ignores the mashed potatoes that are next to them, too busy reaching out for the markers and paper on the coffee table in the living room.

"At least he's eating," Yoongi murmurs quietly, watches Jungkook with sad eyes.

"You should eat too," Namjoon encourages.

"I'm not—I'm not hungry," he replies softly, then turns when he sees Joon sliding a plate with Dino nuggets and ketchup with mashed potatoes as a side. "Joon?"

"I figured we could all enjoy Dino nuggets."

It's so sweet and gentle that Yoongi almost cries. Almost. But he hasn't cried in three days now. He's better. He's fine. It's over now. He's over it. It's fine. He just needs Jungkook better.

No big fucking deal.

*

Yoongi's nails scratch and scrub at his already sensitive skin until it's raw and nearly bleeding, the water from the shower burning his skin again. He's been in here for too long, way too long, but his skin still doesn't feel clean enough, still feels phantom hands lingering on his skin, sees his blood on his hands.

He just wants to feel clean but the longer he stays in the shower, the dirtier he gets. Yoongi breathes out steadily. He's fine. Min Yoongi is fi-i he's fin--fi-

Yoongi slaps a hand over his mouth and slowly sinks to his knees, lets the cold tiled floor dig into his skin. His stomach tosses, it turns. If he moves the wrong way, his body stings, feels like his body is threatening to rip itself in half.

"Yoongi?" Namjoon whispers through the bathroom door, knocking quietly. "I'm not coming in, just—just—I just wanna make sure you're—Yoongi?"

Alive.

Namjoon wants to make sure Yoongi is alive, still barely functioning, still fighting. The problem is yes. Yes, Yoongi is alive when he very much doesn't want to be.

"Joon?" Yoongi whispers, "Joon, please. Please."

Namjoon is inside by the second please, crouching down to grab at Yoongi and pull him tightly into his chest, running his hands down Yoongi's bare arm. "It's ok, It's ok. I'm here."

"I'm still—it won't stop. It won't stop. I keep—I'm bleeding and it won't stop," Yoongi stutters out. "It won't stop. Why won't it stop? Why am I still dirty?"

Namjoon grabs at Yoongi's wrists, turns them so his hands are facing up and then scrubs them with his own hands. "There's nothing there," Namjoon whispers. "There's nothing here. You're not dirty, baby. You're all clean. You're clean. There's no blood. It's all inside of you."

Inside.

Get it out.

gethimoutofme.

"I don't want it inside anymore," Yoongi whispers brokenly, eyes vacant and distant.

"No,no, no, no, come on. Yoongi, come on. Look at me. Look at me," he whispers, grabs Yoongi's cheeks in his hands and smiles softly, rubs his thumbs under his eyes. "Blood needs to stay inside of you, ok?"

bleedmedry.

"It hurts."

"Where?"

Everywhere.

Yoongi looks down in shame and Namjoon pulls him closer. "Ok, ok. We can, uh, Yoongi, if it still hurts we need to take you to a hospital. Something can be---something can be ripped or--

"No, no. No hospitals. We can't. They'll—they'll ask questions, Joon. They'll ask who did it."

"And we can put him in jail."

"I don't wanna see him," Yoongi breathes out. "I don't wanna see him. It's fine. I'm fine. I just need help. I can do this alone, just help me—

"Yoongi—

"What If they take Jungkook away?" Yoongi asks, moving away from Namjoon, trembling as he stands on his own unsteady feet.

"Ok," Namjoon finally agrees even though every voice in his head is screaming to get Yoongi some fucking help.

And Namjoon wants to ask what they can do, what can he do. But Namjoon's hands are fucking tied, they're dead bolted to each other and he can't fucking move, can barely breathe. So he says nothing and helps Yoongi clean up the invisible blood on his body and into some of his clothes.

"I'm sorry," Yoongi murmurs when he's all covered up again, all safe and warm in Namjoon's hoodie. "I keep—I always come to you and it's not fair. It's not. I'm sorry I keep doing this to you. I just keep ruining your life—

"You didn't do anything," Namjoon interrupts him, cups his tiny face in his hands as he talks. "You didn't do shit, Yoongi. You're not ruining my life, you're not ruining anyone's life."

"I ruined Jungkook," Yoongi argues, eyes watering and leaking. "I ruined him. The one—the one good fucking thing in my life and I couldn't protect him. I let him down. I just—

Yoongi doesn't get to finish talking. Jungkook's voice stops him. He's not saying words, just making loud noises, pained noises. It's enough for Yoongi to move out of Namjoon's hands and walk as fast as he can back to the living room where Jungkook had been asleep.

Now he's fully awake and sitting on the couch, hands over his eyes as he whimpers pitifully. Yoongi grabs him gently, coos at him, tries to calm him down as Jungkook refuses to open his eyes and fights back.

"Kook, it's me," Yoongi says gently, wraps his arms around the flailing boy and kisses the top of his head. "It's me. It's just me. You're safe now. We're safe."

"What if the boogeyman comes back?" Jungkook whispers into his chest.

"He won't come back, baby."

"But he does," Jungkook argues. "He always finds you."

*

Jungkook stays in Yoongi's arms, tucked away in his neck for ages on the couch. Yoongi's arms ache but he refuses to put him down, just sits there and watches as some show plays on the tv without really taking in what's happening.

"I, uh, you guys can take my room," Namjoon says quickly, finally breaking the hours long silence. "You both can stay there. Or one of you takes the guest room but it's not—it's not done so, uh, you both can take my room and I can sleep out here. I can sleep outside, make sure no one can come in. I can—what—what do you need?" Namjoon rushes out desperately. "What do you need, Yoongi?"

Yoongi shakes his head. "Joon, I'm—" he just needs to say it out loud. "I'm fi—"

Yoongi is absolutely fi-

His face contorts and he hides, tries to stop himself from crying, but he can't. He can't stop. He wants to stop feeling. He wants this to just stop because he's fine.

He's slept with men.

He's had men do things he didn't want.

He's told them to stop.

Why can't he just get the fuck over this?

He's a whore.

He doesn't count.

He's not h--he's not--he's not hum--

"I can kill him," Namjoon says softly and Yoongi looks up at that. "Say the word and I'll—I'll snap his neck. I'll cut off his dick and feed it to fucking dogs. Say the word, Yoongi," Namjoon says seriously and he fists his hands tightly his knuckles are white.

Yoongi almost says 'please' . Almost.

He's not exactly sure what stops him.

*

The television plays for hours and they sit in silence together like the start of some sort of fucked up sitcom show that Yoongi remembers watching as a kid. His eyes keep falling shut and he can barely keep them open. When Jungkook's head starts to droop too, he gathers him up in his arms silently and makes his way over to Namjoon's bedroom.

Namjoon follows them just to make sure Yoongi doesn't need help with Jungkook, just watches them silently from the door while Yoongi gets into bed with Kook and holds him close. Then he looks down at his feet and starts to leave.

But a soft, little, "wait," stops him. Jungkook sits up in the bed, eyes wide, scared--no, not scared--fucking terrified. His chest is heaving and he's shaking again. "Wait. No. No. Not here. No. The boogeyma--

"He's not coming to get yo--

"Please. Yoongi, please? Please. Not here. Not here," Jungkook begs and Yoongi doesn't have the strength to fight it.

He wraps Jungkook up in a blanket and carries him out, heads towards the other room where they settle on the floor halfway into the closet, Jungkook forcing Yoongi and himself under the covers.

"Are we safe now?" Yoongi whispers, rubbing a soothing hand down the little boy's back.

"The boogeyman doesn't like lights," Jungkook replies, turns on a little flashlight that Yoongi has no idea where it came from.

"Or blankets," Yoongi adds in gently. "So I guess we're safest in here, right?"

Jungkook goes to nod and then freezes, eyes widening in fear. "Where's Namjoon?"

"I'm right here, bud," Namjoon replies.

Jungkook shoves the blanket off his head and sits up, pointing the flashlight at Namjoon and staring. "Don't leave, ok?"

"I promise."

"Yoongi says to not make promises you can't keep."

"I'm keeping this one, alright?" Namjoon says gently. "I'm right here. I'm sleeping on the floor in front of the door. No one can get in. I'll protect you both. I won't even sleep, Kook. I'll stay here and keep watch."

"Promise?" Jungkook whispers.

"Promise," Namjoon replies and stares at the two of them.

"Can—can—can you—can you—," Jungkook stutters.

"What is it, baby?" Yoongi whispers, sits up on his elbow.

"Can Joon sleep next to us?" He asks softly and looks up at Yoongi. "Can he sleep here? Please? Please? I need it. Please?"

Yoongi looks away from Kook and nods slowly.

"No, Kookie. It's best if I--

"Can you sleep next to us, Joon?" Yoongi interrupts Namjoon quietly.

There's a tense silence between the two of them. Namjoon debating it and Yoongi preparing himself to be closer to Joon. "Yoongi."

Yoongi hums in response.

"Please look at me."

So he does. He drags his eyes away from the blankets and up towards the younger boy, takes him in, breathes.

"I can protect you from right here, ok? I don't have to be close. I can do it from far away. Whatever you need from me, I can do."

Yoongi grinds his teeth together hard, listens to the barely there sounds of Namjoon quiet suburban neighborhood. There's no constant busy streets, no cars constantly honking, no screaming. It's just calm, peaceful silence. Yoongi hates it.

Hates it because in the silence, his brain can fill in the sounds. He can hear heavy breathing in his ear, can hear his name being moaned, can hear the slick sound of lube--the sounds of skin slapping. He can hear panting, a bed creaking, and, worst of all, he can hear his own voice. Soft, barely there, begging for it to end.

"Please sleep next to us," Yoongi whispers, bites at his lip as he looks away in shame.

Hesitantly, Namjoon makes his way over to the older boy. He carefully settles himself right next to Jungkook, sandwiching in the little boy in a bubble of safety.

It's like that that the little boy finally falls asleep. But only after ages of Yoongi stroking his head, murmuring sweet nothings does he finally knock out, looking every bit of normal and relaxed as a little boy should be. As Yoongi should've kept him.

Not fucked up and scared out of his mind.

But he is fucked up.

Because Yoongi fucked up.

"I don't know what to say," Namjoon whispers over Jungkook's head. "I don't think there's, uh, there's nothing--anything I can say. Just, uh, know that you're safe here. I swear it. I'd never—I'd never let anything bad happen to you here."

Yoongi makes a soft sound and nods, looks up to meet Namjoon's stare. "I keep ruining everyone's lives."

"Yoongi, no. No. Baby, no," Namjoon whispers, reaches out and then clenches his hand and settles it against himself instead.

Yoongi shakes his head, "No, it's ok," he murmurs and reaches out to grab for Namjoon, tangling their fingers together and sighing, laying his head on the pillow.

Their hands are over Jungkook, keeping the little boy protected, safe. And Yoongi feels safe. He's with Namjoon. He knows he's safe.

So he cries, hides his face as best as he can, and then makes a soft noise when Namjoon runs his fingers through Yoongi's hair with his free hand.

That's how Yoongi finally falls asleep, curled up close to Jungkook and holding Joon's hand.

*

This time, when Yoongi wakes up, Namjoon is still there and they're still holding hands. This time, when Yoongi feels that sick, twisted feeling in his gut, when he feels that hollowness threatening to consume him, instead of letting go like he so desperately wants to, he tightens his hold on Namjoon's hand and breathes.

*

Namjoon manages to coax Jungkook out of the closet with promises of a cool movie he wants to show him and pancakes. Jungkook digs his fingers into Yoongi's shirt as they settle into the couch, refuses to let go even as the movie starts to play.

He has no idea what the movie is until a giant creature swims across the television and Jungkook sits up. "Is that the--

"Yeah, buddy. That's the star whale. You saw it in person, remember? Back at my job."

"Oh. Fuck," Yoongi whispers. "Your meeting. Joon, what happened to that meeting to show off your project. How did it go?"

Namjoon smiles and shrugs. "I, uh, it's been postponed. It's fine. I just wanted to get more sketches done. It's ok. I have some other stuff to get done too. Do you two mind staying out here? I'll be right back."

Jungkook agrees but moves from watching the movie to watching Namjoon suspiciously. He even ignores the pancakes as Namjoon sets them down next to him and then leaves the living room to go into his office.

Once he's gone, Jungkook turns his attention to Yoongi, grabs at his hand and plays with the much larger fingers. "How much did the boogeyman hurt you?"

Yoongi swallows thickly and then has his hand swallow Jungkook's whole. "Not at all."

Jungkook turns up and looks at Yoongi now in disbelief. "Lying is bad."

He's just about to argue, spew some bullshit about how he's too strong for that or that he's not human enough to feel. But he doesn't. He can't.

"You're right, baby. Lying is bad," Yoongi agrees. "It's--it's not something I can talk about right now though, ok?"

"Ok."

"Is--how bad did the boogeyman hurt you?" Yoongi asks quietly.

Jungkook shakes his head and turns to look at the tv, ignoring Yoongi's question completely in favor of staring blankly at the television.

Namjoon, like promised, is only gone for a little while. When he comes back, he sits down next to Jungkook and watches silently with them. It's much like the day before, just sitting in awkward, tense silence and pretending that they're not all falling apart at the seams.

But when the sun starts to go down, when it starts getting darker, Jungkook gets antsy, irritated. He's so agitated he that he starts to dig his nails into his arm until they bleed and Yoongi takes him in his arms and heads towards the office, letting Jungkook fall asleep in his arms as they hide away in the back of the closet together with Namjoon sitting right outside of it, keeping them safe.

After Jungkook's sleeping soundly, Namjoon speaks up. His voice is barely above a whisper, just enough that Yoongi can hear him. "I talked to a therapist."

Yoongi tenses up and nods. "Will she call the cops?"

"No. Not unless she sees, like, signs of abuse or neglect. But--uh--it's--it's not just for Kook. It's for you too."

"Namjoon--

"Please. It's just--you don't have to go often. Just--one time, ok? Just one time and if you hate it, you don't have to go back. I won't make you do something you don't want so if this is something you're just absolutely, completely against I'll back off," Namjoon rushes out. "But--but if there's even a small chance that you think this can help you or maybe you wanna see if it does anything, please....please take it."

Yoongi grinds his teeth but nods anyways.

He's fine.

And he's going to prove it to Namjoon.

*

Jungkook goes to his first therapy appointment nine days exactly after the event . Yoongi finds himself in a waiting room wearing all of Namjoon's clothes next to Namjoon while Jungkook shakes and refuses to open his eyes because he just wants to be home again near his closet.

His little begs had almost broken Yoongi into submission, into letting Jungkook forever stay inside the house and never leave. But he couldn't. He wouldn't let Jungkook rot away like that.

So he's here and he feels so fucking guilty as he fills out the paper work and Namjoon tries to get Jungkook to open his eyes at least a little bit. "There's this big stack of books. I can read them to you but there's pictures," Namjoon murmurs. "Or we can play with the blocks."

"Closet."

Namjoon sighs a bit, bites at his bottom lip and shakes his head. "There's no closet here, bub. You're safe with us. I know you don't feel safe and I'm so sorry, but you are safe, baby. You're the safest here with me and Yoongi."

Jungkook places his hands over his ears and Namjoon sighs in defeat.

"I don't—I don't have his birth certificate," Yoongi whispers and stares down at the unfinished paperwork. "It's—it's—it's back there. I didn't even fucking think to grab it. I didn't—

"You got yourselves out of there," Namjoon stops him and places his hand over Yoongi's when the trembling starts. "You did everything you could. We can request a new one. It's fine."

"His adoption papers are there too."

"They should be in the system. As long as you have an ID they can pull up those court records," Namjoon calms him down.

"Kook doesn't have insurance. We didn't qualify—

"Don't worry about that."

Yoongi would argue, would usually stick his nose in the air—filled with too much pride to accept anyone's charity. But Jungkook is counting again, stopping at 64 and starting over and Yoongi feels sick to his stomach.

He had heard Jungkook counting.

Over and over and over again.

He heard him count to 64 for hours and if Kook got too loud, he'd say the man's name. He'd moan it. He fucking—he fucking—

"Yoongi?"

Yoongi blinks up at Joon and stares quietly before he nods. "I'll pay you back," he says simply and continues to fill out the paperwork.

And after half an hour of waiting, the receptionist takes both Yoongi and Jungkook into the back to sit on the couch to finally meet the therapist.

Her name is Martha Byers and her doctorate degree sits proudly on her desk along with a picture of her and her wife and just that alone settles Yoongi's stomach a bit about her.

It's just him, Jungkook, and Martha in the room. Namjoon is right outside waiting for them. He's waiting. He's so good. So pure. Yoongi should leave him before he ruins him too.

"Do you like music?" Dr. Byers asks Jungkook directly, look never faltering even as Jungkook tries to ignore her and shrink away into the cushions, fingers in his ears. "It's ok. I don't like it when adults talk either."

Jungkook says nothing.

"I have headphones. Do you like music?" She tries again.

At that, Jungkook opens his eyes and looks up at her.

"You can listen to music. You don't have to listen to me right now. We can talk later. Or we don't have to talk at all. Your choice, Jungkook."

Jungkook removes his fingers from his ears and nods. "I--I like music."

"Good," she says happily, reaches around her desk to grab a box and open it up, grabbing the headphones from inside and holding them out for Jungkook. "The music might be a little boring but it'll help block out the world."

Jungkook doesn't hesitate to grab them from her and put them on.

She doesn't say anything else to him after that, just reaches below for a box of stuff and stands up, moving around to go to the corner where there's a little table just for kids where she can place the box of stuff and motion for Jungkook to follow her. Then she leaves him alone, coming back to the couch and staring at Yoongi.

"There's toys in there. And paper, pens. Anything he wants," she explains. "He's got the freedom to play or draw or just sit there and exist."

"He--he loves to draw," Yoongi says slowly, eyeing Jungkook carefully as the little boy sits at the table and eyes the box. "But he doesn't--he hasn't shown a lot of interest in it. He's--we've tried. We keep trying but he doesn't want anything."

"That's ok. He'll come around," she says lightly and Yoongi makes a face.

She's supposed to help. She's supposed to help Jungkook. Why isn't she helping?

"I saw in the paperwork that you're concerned for Jungkook?" She asks quietly, careful of being too loud.

While Jungkook isn't paying any attention to them, he's got headphones on and is listening to some music, eyes closed, Yoongi is still careful about speaking too loud anyway.

"We—we recently went through something traumatic and, and I'm scared he won't be able to cope with it," Yoongi says calmly. "I'm scared I fucked him up."

"Mr. Min—

"Just Yoongi. Please."

"Yoongi," she corrects. "What sort of trauma exactly? Sexual? Physical? Was it caused by his parents?"

Yoongi shakes his head. "No. No. I—his parents—Jungkook's my half brother. His dad sucks and our mom died. I'm all he's got, really. I'm—my mom kicked me out when I was, uh, fifteen? I think. Because she didn't believe me when—doesn't matter. I'm a, uh, prostitute. Jungkook doesn't know. He—I keep that away from him, I swear I do. I was fifteen when I got kicked out and, and I didn't have anywhere to go. It was the only way to feed myself and when Jungkook was almost three our mom died and his dad sucked so I requested custody. And it was by some miracle that they gave it to me because I was fucking practically homeless then and—and—and I dropped out of school so, like, I couldn't get a real job. I tried. I tried to do it right but Jungkook was almost three and hungry and cold and I couldn't let him starve," Yoongi rushes out.

"You don't have to justify what you do to feed your brother, Yoongi," Dr. Byers replies slowly.

Yoongi nods. "I just want—I want you to know that I never—that I just wanted the best for my brother, I swear. I—I sleep with men for money and I'm so careful about it. I—my boyfriend walks me home to make sure no one follows me. I have, I have a neighbor who listens out for Jungkook when I'm gone because he's usually asleep and I come back when it's time for him to be up. I don't—I can't afford a babysitter. I couldn't even afford fucking crayons—" Yoongi cuts himself off when his voice breaks and he gives himself a second to compose himself. "My landlord was drunk. I could smell it on him. He--he's a big guy, ya know? Like I'm not a fucking idiot, I know how to fucking shove someone off but he-he--he knocked on the door."

"Why did you open it?"

Yoongi looks at his hands at that and wills himself to not cry. "Because...because I thought it was Namjoon. I'm stupid. I fucked up. I'm always careful and, and, and I didn't even look through the peephole. I'm—he came in and I didn't have time to do anything. I have a gun in my bag and it was either kill him and go to fucking jail and have Jungkook rot in the system or...or...just go along with it."

"You had sex in front of your brother."

Yoongi wipes under his nose. "I shoved him in the closet," he says softly and chews at his bottom lip as tears leak. "Now he doesn't want to leave the closet. He's scared."

"How long did you leave him there?" She asks, voice calm. She doesn't sound accusing.

"I don't know," Yoongi admits, shakes his head and tries to think back to the time. "Three...maybe four hours."

She nods and something crosses over her face, her cool exterior seems to break a bit. "Four hours?"

Yoongi swallows thickly. This was a mistake. He can see it in her face, can see the way that she judges him. She's going to take Jungkook away. Probably for neglect--abuse. But Yoongi tried. He tried his best. He tried. "Please don't take him away from me," Yoongi whispers. "I'm all he has. I never—I would never—I didn't want to have sex in front of him. He's a baby. I tried my best. I tried. It wasn't my fault--I swear I tried. Please believe me. Don't take him away from me. Don't take him away."

"You were sexually assaulted in front of your brother."

"No," Yoongi disagrees instantly. "I—I didn't want it but it wasn't—it wasn't ra--assault. I just didn't want it."

Dr. Byers' head tilts and she nods. "Why don't you consider it sexual assault?"

"Because," Yoongi stops and stares at her for a second before he continues. "Because I sleep with men for money so what's the difference if I don't want it?"

She's silent for a long time, so long that Yoongi starts to look at his exits, fully prepared to make a run for it with Jungkook if he needs to.

"I'm not going to take Jungkook away from you," she says slowly, then repeats it when Yoongi looks skeptically at her.

"I had sex in front of him—I fucking—he's not ok."

"You were raped in front of him, Yoongi," she says bluntly. "Not wanting it means you didn't consent. He broke into your home."

"I never said no."

"You were terrified for your brother."

"I never said no. I never said no," Yoongi repeats. "I—I just—I want Jungkook to be ok. I'm--I'm fine. I just--Can you help him?"

"I can help both of you."

"No," Yoongi says firmly. "I don't need help. I'm fuckin' fine. Jungkook is the one—

"Yoongi?"

Yoongi stops talking and turns to look at Jungkook. He smiles, wiping his face quickly and then holding out his arms. "Hey, Buddy. Sorry. We just got carried away. Come here."

Jungkook walks over to him, holds a paper tightly against his chest and settles into Yoongi's lap. "This nice lady wants to talk to you. Her name is Martha. She's—she's gonna help, ok?"

"Hi, Jungkook," she says sweetly. "Did you draw this?" Jungkook nods and Yoongi relaxes a bit, finally seeing that Jungkook is doing something he loves again. "Can I see your picture? I love art, do you like it too?" Jungkook nods hesitantly and lets Yoongi hand it over to her. "This is really nice. I like the use of red."

"It's blood."

Yoongi grips Jungkook a bit tighter. "Blood? Like the dragons from Akimigaara?"

Jungkook shakes his head. "Akimigaara doesn't kill dragons anymore. They kill men. They kill bad, bad men and they're going to kill the boogeyman next."

"Is the boogeyman the one you're scared of?" Dr. Byers asks.

"I'm not scared anymore," Jungkook argues and sits up taller. "When I'm big and strong, I'll kill him. I won't let him hurt Yoongi ever again. I'm gonna kill all the bad men and I'm gonna be brave."

Yoongi shuts his eyes tightly and hides in Jungkook's back, feeling ashamed, guilty—dirty.

"Being brave doesn't mean not being scared," she says easily. "Is Akimigaara scared?"

"No," Jungkook snaps. "They have a sword."

"Then the sword isn't scared. What happens when you take the sword away?"

Jungkook stares hard at the picture in her hands and then scowls. "They put down their sword."

"But what about when someone wants to hug them? What about when they have hands to hold?"

"Akimigaara doesn't hold hands. Akimigaara doesn't have time. They're killing boogeymen. They're--they're--they're protecting good people."

"Sometimes protecting good people doesn't involve a sword, sometimes it's hugging someone or holding their hand."

Jungkook moves off of Yoongi's lap and into the couch, eyes dropping down to the coffee table in front of him and staring blankly ahead.

"Kookie?"

Jungkook's hands squeeze the couch, his tiny nails dig in so hard he can hear the sound of it threatening to rip.

"I want to kill the bad man," Jungkook whispers. "The bad man that hurt Yoongi."

Dr. Byers nods, leans forward a bit so she's shorter, more at Jungkook's eye level. "But--but what does Yoongi want, Jungkook?"

Yoongi moves to outstretch his hand, turning it upwards and offers it out to his little brother. "I just want you to hold my hand, Kook."

Jungkook looks at the hand and then looks away as his body starts to tremble, rocking his body back and forth.

"Jungkook?"

And then Jungkook explodes into millions of pieces, like a bomb in the middle of a war zone. His debris is sharp, jagged, and it lands everywhere. It slices through everything and even through Yoongi.

He screams, he cries, he kicks, scratches. He does everything in his power to stop his brain, desperate to shut it down. Yoongi's arms wrap around him and he struggles harder, Yoongi closes his eyes, turns his head to avoid getting hit when he hears another yell from behind him.

"Let him go," Dr. Byers says sternly.

"He's--

"It's ok. Let him go and look at me, Kook," she says loudly, over Jungkook's screams. "Come on, Jungkook, open your eyes and look at me. Come hit me. I hurt you. I did it. Come here."

Yoongi looks over at her and watches as she nods before he lets go and Jungkook does as he's told. He runs over, angry and wanting to ruin and hurt. But he stops when she drops down to the ground on all fours and roars. "You're a lion," she says loudly. "And lions roar when they're angry. Come on, Jungkook. Roar. It's ok. It's ok."

Jungkook shakes and then drops down to his own hands and knees and roars too. "Come on. You're not here. You're in a jungle. You're in a warm jungle and you're a roaring lion."

Jungkook roars again. And again. And again until he's curled up into a tiny ball on the floor, Dr. Byers cooing softly at him. "This is your roar," she whispers to him. "Roars don't have to be loud and scary, a lion roars to let out what they feel. It's ok to be angry. It's ok to be scared. It's ok to want to ruin the world. But it's also ok to cry. Crying is a roar and it's just as powerful, Jungkook."

"I didn't hold his hand," Jungkook sobs into the carpet. "I--I didn't--I didn't--I was scared. I was scared. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I was scared. I promised--I broke the promise."

"What did you promise?"

"I promised I wouldn't look," Jungkook cries. "But I-I--I-I did. I looked. I saw his hand. I thought--I thought he was--I thought he was dead. Yoongi always holds my hand when I'm scared but--but I didn't hold his. "

"Why don't you hold his hand now?" Dr. Byers asks, motioning for Yoongi to join them on the floor.

Yoongi goes without hesitation, moves to kneel right next to Jungkook.

"I can't."

"Why can't you hold my hand, Kook?" Yoongi murmurs, feeling his stomach twist and turn and threaten to empty itself on the floor.

"I can't."

"It's ok, Kookie. I won't be mad. It's ok."

Jungkook shakes his head again.

"You're a lion," Dr. Byers reminds him. "So if you need to roar, then roar."

Jungkook's eyes dry up and he turns his face away from the carpet and up to glare at Yoongi. "Because you didn't kill him!" He screeches. Angry. Scared. Hurt. Pissed off. Guilty. "Why didn't you kill him?"

"Because murder is illegal, Kook," Yoongi says calmly.

"He's a bad man, Yoongi! Why do bad men live? Why do they exist? Why didn't anyone help you?" Jungkook screams angrily, tugs at his hair in frustration and Yoongi reaches out to grab at his hands, Jungkook starts hitting him back. Desperate to get at himself. "Why didn't you kill him?"

"Because I was scared that someone would take you away from me!" Yoongi finally screams back at him. "Because I was scared, Kook! I was scared that by the time I grabbed my fucking gun he'd find you and it wouldn't have been me on that bed but you! I was so fucking scared that he'd have done the same thing to you, Jungkook! I was scared he'd fucking kill me and you'd go back to your dad and honestly you're better off dead than with him, Kookie. You're better off fucking dead than with your real dad and I'm so sorry for what you fuckin' saw. I'm-I'm-im so—I'm sorry," Yoongi breaks. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you more."

Jungkook feels something. Feels something inside of him, held tight and threatening to burst but it doesn't burst and he doesn't know what to say—doesn't fully understand. So he kicks. He punches. Roars. But he avoids Yoongi entirely and destroys everything around him but Yoongi.

Because he doesn't want to hurt Yoongi more, just wants to see him happy. He doesn't know how to tell Yoongi he was scared too. He feels guilty and he's sorry he didn't help. He promised and he broke that promise too.

*

Jungkook doesn't say a word going home. He stares ahead and Yoongi doesn't even stop him when he goes straight for the closet when they're back at Namjoon's. Yoongi just grabs some crayons and paper and takes them to him.

Jungkook snaps the crayons in half and rips the paper to shreds.

*

"He's not getting better, he's getting worse," Yoongi murmurs two days later to Dr. Byers. It's his own solo session with her and he feels something tight in his chest. Anxiety about leaving Jungkook in his state alone with Namjoon.

"He's processing things," she says slowly, carefully. "After a few more sessions with Jungkook, I want to maybe see you and him together again."

Yoongi shrugs. "Will it help him?"

"That's my plan."

"Then okay."

The next hour is just Yoongi sitting in the room discussing his distaste for certain foods and the weather, straying far away from any serious topics because he doesn't need to. He's fine.

*

Dr. Byers sees Jungkook three times a week and Yoongi only once a week. The next two times Jungkook goes, he walks out of there silent and Dr. Byers assures them he talked just in his own way. She tells them to give it time, to let him cope in his own way for now.

Jungkook copes by not doing anything at all except staying in his closet. Refuses to get out for practically anything and Yoongi has to contact the school and get some sort of medical leave so that DSS doesn't come looking for him for fucking neglect.

The third week of therapy, Dr. Byers suggests Namjoon coming in with Jungkook. Maybe even Yoongi and Namjoon together if Yoongi is comfortable. So the next time it's time for his session, all three of them walk inside and sit on the couch.

"He talks a lot about you," Dr. Byers says. "Jungkook said it was ok to talk to you about this."

Yoongi nods silently and Namjoon grabs at his hand and squeezes.

"He says your house is big," She says quietly. "He says you get up at night a lot."

"I'm checking the locks," Namjoon says quickly. "I just—I want to make sure they're ok."

"You're fine, I wasn't accusing you of anything," she says and smiles a bit. "Jungkook, do you wanna show them the thing?"

Jungkook silently nods and gets off the couch,moves to the cubbies in the corner and grabs something before walking back towards them. He hands it over to Dr. Byers and then sits down next to Yoongi again and waits.

"Can I show them? I know you said yes last time but it's ok if you changed your mind."

Jungkook nods so she hands over the drawing.

Namjoon stares at it and smiles. It's three blobs. But he recognizes those blobs. Jungkook drew them. He's been drawing. Namjoon smiles more. "This is good, Kook. You're getting so good."

"Thank you."

"You should draw more at home, baby," Yoongi says and gets a little teary eyed at the picture. "I miss hanging them up."

"I broke the crayons," Jungkook rushes out.

"It's ok, we can get you more," Namjoon offers.

It's the wrong thing to offer because Jungkook's eyes widen. "I don't need them," he snaps. "Yoongi, please don't come home late again."

"I'm not, Kook," Yoongi says quickly, taken aback. "I'm right here. I've been with you, remember? I don't--I haven't--not since--I don't--

"We don't have our money jar."

"We will," Yoongi says. "And we'll fill it up to the top."

Jungkook shakes his head violently. "I hate crayons. I hate drawing. I hate it. I hate it."

"Kook—

"I hate it!"

"It's ok," Dr. Byers says quickly. "Use your words, Jungkook. Remember what we talked about."

"I hate you!" Jungkook screams. "I hate you!"

Yoongi wants to throw up.

"I hate you because you don't come home early!"

"I'm not coming home late now, Kook," Yoongi says desperately.

"I hate you because have bruises when you come home from work. I hate you because we didn't live with Joon faster. I hate crayons because you looked so sad when you got me my 64 pack. I hate 64. I hate 64."

"Jungkook, come on. Tell them what you told me," Dr. Byers says.

"I hate —I hate—Namjoon. I hate Namjoon," he says viciously, words slicing through the air and piercing through Namjoon's chest.

"You don't need a sword," Dr. Byers says quickly. "You just need your words."

Jungkook scrunches up his face and then runs to Yoongi, wraps his tiny arms around him and hides in his chest. "I hate me ," he cries. "I hate me. I let him hurt you. I was scared."

Yoongi holds him tighter and kisses his face until he's calmed down. "I love you, Kook. I love you. No matter what. You can hate me all you want, you can hate the entire world but I will love you through it all. You're my entire world and I don't care. I don't care if I have to come home late every single day, I don't care if our money jar is never full, I don't care if I come home hurting. I do it because I want us to one day have something. And we will. One day we'll have a big house and a dog and I won't ever come home late again. I swear."

Then Namjoon speaks up. "You can hate me too, Kook. I know I failed you both. But—but I'll make it up to you, bub. I'll make it up to both of you. I'll make sure Yoongi never comes home late again and he never cries again and he'll never hurt again."

"Yoongi says lying is bad," Jungkook whispers.

"Good thing I'm not lying. You have a home and it's with me."

Jungkook hugs namjoon too.

*

"He talked today," Namjoon says lightly once they're home, Jungkook asleep in the closet again. "Screamed, but he needed to let it out, I guess. I'm proud of him."

Yoongi stops putting away the dishes and stares at the cabinet ahead. "I'm sorry for what he said. He didn't mean it."

"He did," Namjoon argues. "But it's ok. I hate me too right now."

"You didn't—you—I'm taking enough as it is from you," Yoongi whispers. "You let me live her for fucking free," Yoongi says and then licks his lips, steps towards Namjoon. "I'm taking a lot."

"And I'm not asking for anything, Yoon."

"I know," Yoongi whispers and looks up at Joon. "It's ok to ask, though. It's ok to--to touch me."

Namjoon stops wiping his wet dishes down and turns to stare at Yoongi's face for a long time before he shakes his head. "I'm not doing this."

"I'm clean."

"Yoongi—

"You can fuck me," Yoongi says bluntly and Namjoon closes his eyes tightly and pinches the bridge of his nose. Yoongi feels his eyes sting and he takes a step back, swallowing thickly. "Don't—don't you want me anymore?" He whispers.

"Yoongi, I do," Namjoon says quietly and turns around, busies himself with something else, something that isn't Yoongi.

Yoongi clenches his jaw tightly and grinds his teeth. "Is it because I'm dirty?" He asks bluntly. "Is it because I don't wear skirts? Do you miss the wig? I can shower again , is three times a day not enough? I can—Namjoon, why don't you want me anymore?" He rushes out, body shaking, hands trembling, needing to reach out and touch. But as soon as his fingertips barely brush Namjoon's arms he's ripping his hand back, taking steps away from him.

He's dirty.

He's soiled.

Why would Namjoon want him?

"Why don't you want me anymore?" Yoongi asks, but his voice is wrong. His lungs aren't working right, his chest is a collapsing building and his insides are the people trapped. "Why—why—I can—why—" Yoongi's hands come up to his hair and he shuts his eyes tightly, fingers winding around his shirt strands of hair and he tugs. Pulls. Rips it out.

Until there's soft hands on him, a calming voice cooing at him, arms holding him, lips pressing soft words onto the top of his head and rocking him gently. "I want you," Namjoon whispers, wraps his arms around Yoongi fully and gently rubs his head. "I want you more than anything. I want you. I want us. But this is all I need, ok? I don't need more."

"I can't stop feeling dirty, Joon," Yoongi sobs into his chest, clings onto him. "I just want it to stop. I want it to stop."

"What do I do?" Namjoon asks desperately. "Yoongi, what the fuck can I do? How do I make it stop?"

Yoongi doesn't have a real answer for him.

But they end up in Namjoon's bathroom, Yoongi sitting in the tub naked with the water too hot like he's grown used to. Beside the tub, Namjoon's on his knees, his hands dipping into the water to scoop it out and run it over Yoongi's body.

It doesn't help.

But it does.

They've been silent for a while now, with Joon giving him a bath for what feels like forever. He's constantly had to drain the tub and refill it back up. He hasn't complained yet.

Nothing Yoongi's done to him has ever made him complain. Yoongi doesn't know how to feel about that yet.

Maybe if the situation were better he'd feel better about telling Namjoon he's in love with him. Maybe if he didn't cling to the artist like a newborn, he'd tell him. But now the love confession is nothing more than an iron ball wrapped around Namjoon's tired, brittle ankles.

Yoongi's love is too heavy of a burden. He's nothing more than an anchor that'll bring Namjoon down to drown at the bottom of a lake with him.

"Can you get in the tub with me?" Yoongi asks softly, blinking away the extra wetness on his face.

Namjoon nods. "With clothes on?" He asks softly.

"I'd prefer skin to skin but if you're more comfortable with clothes on that's ok too," Yoongi whispers and doesn't watch as Namjoon strips down to nothing before climbing in behind him and pulling him close.

Yoongi sighs, closes his eyes, relaxes in the hole. He lets himself be overwhelmed by everything that is Namjoon and then turns so he can curl up into Namjoon's hold better. He can relax and feel as Namjoon rubs up and down his body, traces the scars and stretch marks, the dips of his body, the pull of his lower belly fat.

Namjoon says it first.

"I love you," he whispers, presses a kiss to the top of Yoongi's head and sighs. "And I love Jungkook."

There's a sharp feeling inside Yoongi's body, it begs to be let out, claws at his chest, bangs against his ribs, wants to be set free. But Yoongi doesn't allow it. Not yet. He turns to look up at Namjoon, stares a bit dumbly at him before he sits up properly in his lap.

The angle is uncomfortable. So he moves again, straddles Namjoon's thighs and balances himself by bracing his hands on Namjoon's shoulders. "Do you mean it?" He finally replies. "Do you really love me?"

Namjoon nods. "Yeah, I do. I—I—that night when you both fell asleep. I didn't come back. I'm—I wasn't outside."

Yoongi figured. But it hurts anyways.

"I didn't leave because I—" Namjoon swallows thickly, looks away from Yoongi's face. "It wasn't because of you. It—I felt something so terrible inside of me. Seeing you both so—I was so angry. Yoongi, I was so fucking angry. I—I—I lose a lot, ok? I've lost a lot in my life and I was always so pissed at the universe but this was the first time in my life that I was pissed at something real. He's a monster. He's a tangible thing. He's got a body. He's a got a dick and I left that night because I wanted to find him. I wanted to fucking kill him with my bare fucking hands. I wanted to kill everyone on this fucking planet except for you and Jungkook. I wanted to just—end it all for everyone. Including me. Because how can someone with such—how could I look at you knowing I went out trying to fucking kill a man? How can I touch you when all I fucking want to do is wring his fucking neck? Yoongi, you aren't fucking dirty. You're so beautiful. So, so fucking beautiful and pure because you do things out of love. You do them unselfishly. You take hit after hit after hit and all you think about is what everyone else fuckin' needs. I'm disgusting because I can't give you that. I can't give you unselfish love.'

"I'm so fucking selfish. I don't—I never wanted you and Guk to leave. I wanted that week we spent together to just--I wanted that everyday. I wanted you in my bed every day not because I wanted to fuck you, I just wanted to wake up next to you. I want to wake up next to you. I want to watch bad shows in bed and eat dinner there when we're too lazy to move. I want—I want—I want so much out of you and I'm so fucking sorry it's me. That it's just me that loves you. I'm sorry I'm so fucking selfish that I can't stop thinking about murdering that fucking piece of shit and I dare to even kiss you with the same mouth that froths at the thought of another man touching you. I'm so sorry.'

"And I'm sorry I forced you to take Guk to the therapist. But-But he's such a good kid. He's such a bright fucking kid and me and him write these little—these little stories together but now he won't even hold a fucking crayon and I'm selfish because I want that back. I want him thinking the world is beautiful but he's so fucking angry and I'm so scared. I'm so scared that I'll never see that little boy who loved to draw again. And I'm scared you'll come home late again. I'm terrified it'll happen again. I keep checking the fucking locks because I keep thinking they're broken and someone will come in and steal you both away. I'm sorry for everything, Min Yoongi. But know I love you. I love you with every fiber of my fucking being and I love Jungkook like he's my own and I'd do fucking anything for you. Absolutely fucking anything all you need to do is tell me and I'll do it."

Yoongi's eyes are wide when Namjoon finishes. Wide and so misty eyed and he doesn't know how it happens, but suddenly he's leaning in and kissing Namjoon desperately. He's grinding his body into Namjoon's, whining his name. "Make love to me," he whispers into Namjoon's skin desperately before biting down into his shoulder as Namjoon rocks up.

And Namjoon complies.

He opens him up slowly, keeps Yoongi on top of him in the tub, using the water to help ease the sting of the stretch. And then he's sinking down on Namjoon's cock, throwing his head back as he lets himself down , down, down until Namjoon is buried inside of him for the first time.

Yoongi gasps. Makes a desperate noise, chokes, and Namjoon lifts his legs up so Yoongi has more leverage and lets him take. He lets Yoongi hide his face in his neck as he rocks down desperately, chases after his own pleasure without thinking of anything else.

Namjoon helps him. Guides his hips, plants his feet and rocks up when Yoongi whimpers that he needs more. He needs so much more and Namjoon focuses every single cell in his body to Yoongi's needs.

He's almost there, on the edge of coming when he places his forehead against Namjoon's and whimpers pitifully. "Again. Tell me again. Mean it."

Namjoon reaches up to cup his cheeks and forces his head back so they can stare into each other's eyes. "I love you more than anything in this world," he manages out. "Let me take care of you, baby. Let me love you."

Yoongi cries.

Then he stiffens up in Namjoon's hold and cums.

He lets Namjoon hold him afterwards in the cold, dirty tub. He lets himself cry, lets himself feel shitty and dirty and used and then when he's emptied out all of the bad, he gets to feel the good. He gets to bathe in it, feels it all over his skin when Namjoon runs his fingers down his spine, feels it in his belly when Namjoon pinches the lower pudge and tickles him, and then tastes it when Namjoon breathes out a soft love confession to his lip and kisses him firmly.

What he doesn't feel are hands holding him down and open, the press of a blade in his neck. No. He feels Namjoon. Only Namjoon.

And when they finally go back to the closet, Yoongi drowning in Namjoon's too big of clothes, tucked in close to Jungkook and Namjoon, he falls asleep easily. And, for the first time, doesn't have a nightmare. He sleeps through the night.

Namjoon doesn't get up to check the locks.

Jungkook curls in close to Yoongi in the middle of the night and holds on tight.

When he wakes up, he shyly asks for pancakes and Yoongi nearly cries.

Baby steps.

*

"You want nuggets for lunch?"

Jungkook nods and then stands up straight, bites his lip nervously. "Did-did—did we throw the crayons away?" He asks quietly.

Namjoon smiles sadly. "I did, bud. But—crayons are cool and all. But you know what's cooler?" He asks and waits for Jungkook to frown at him before he continues. "Come on," he says lightly and let's Jungkook follow him into his work room, leaving the door open as he does. "This is where I work."

The little boy is silent, but it's not a weighted silence. It's calm, peaceful. He's taking in every ounce of the room, looking at all the drawings and trophies and different things.

"And this is a drawing pad," Namjoon says and sits down on his swivel chair and grabs the large drawing pad before thinking better of it and grabbing the much smaller one. "This comes with a screen and you never run out of colors."

"Yoongi never has to buy crayons again?" Jungkook asks quietly and steps up closer to Namjoon, eyeing the pad curiously.

"Nope. Never again. Wanna come learn how to use it?" Namjoon asks softly.

And that's how he spends the next twenty minutes explaining how to use a drawing pad to Jungkook and then lets him take the pad and screen out of the room. Jungkook goes straight for the closet but then stops right in front of it. "Kook?"

"Can I use this outside?" Jungkook asks Namjoon quietly. "I wanna draw outside. Akimigaara likes outside."

"Of course, bud. You can draw wherever you like, ok? Just don't leave the backyard."

"Is the gate locked?"

Namjoon nods and opens up the backdoor for him, watches silently as Jungkook sets up in one of the chairs outside and starts to use the pad. It's progress, he thinks.

Yoongi catches him staring, smiles a bit and walks over to wrap an arm around Namjoon before the younger one wraps an arm around him and pulls him closer. "He wanted to be outside to draw," Namjoon says quietly. "How's the homeschooling stuff coming?"

"I get the stuff tomorrow. We just have to finish these workbooks and he takes a test and if he passes, he'll be able to move up with the rest of his class," Yoongi explains with a soft hum. "I'm sorry about last night."

"Literally, don't apologize," Namjoon snorts, turns to kiss the top of Yoongi's head.

"I shouldn't have done that."

"Yoongi, please—

"I wasn't—I wasn't ready to have sex," Yoongi interrupts him and Namjoon stiffens up. "No. No. Wait. No. It's not—no, listen. I wanted it. I did. I didn't—I don't know if I'm ever gonna want to have sex again, honestly. But I didn't want the last time to be with him. I wanted—I wanted—I wanted it to be with you. With someone I trust. With someone I...I love."

"Ok."

"I was...I didn't want the last person to have ever touched me be someone who stole something from me. I wanted you. I wanted it to be us. I wanted it to be love," Yoongi explains and moves so that he's standing in front of Namjoon now. "I love you."

It's not like how it is in the movies. The love confession in return isn't a big show, there's no fireworks, no rush—no desperation. It's quiet, soft, said in front of a glass door while a child draws outside. It's said casually and Namjoon loves it more this way.

"I love you too," Namjoon replies quietly and smiles.

"Kiss me?"

Namjoon kisses him softly and keeps it sweet. It feels good. They feel good.

Nothing is fixed, nothing is really better, but it'll get there. Eventually.

*

Jungkook passes second grade a week before everyone else does. He takes his EOG and gets told he scored high enough after an hour and Yoongi holds his hand tightly as they walk across the street to get to the diner where Namjoon is waiting.

It's been a while. Long, torturously slow weeks that have been the hardest of any of their lives.

Yoongi opens up the heavy door and Jungkook walks right in, right to Namjoon where he slides into the booth next to the artist. Namjoon kisses the top of his head and takes out the pad from his bag and gives it over to Kook. "Heard someone passed," Namjoon says easily.

Jungkook nods silently, opens the drawing pad up and begins to sketch with it.

"We got a letter today in the mail," Namjoon adds, takes it out from his bag and slides it over to Jungkook. "Wanna read it?"

Jungkook sets down the pad carefully before he reaches out to grab the letter and hand it to Yoongi so the eldest can open up the envelope and hand him back just the letter inside.

"Min Jungkook," Jungkook begins, "we are co-cord-cord—

"Cordially?"

Jungkook nods. "Invi—invit—Yoongi?"

Yoongi takes the letter with a soft chuckle and starts to read it instead. "Min Jungkook, we are cordially inviting you to attend and participate in one of our interviews. Wait what?" Yoongi stops reading and scans through the letter. "Through your flawless recommendation and portfolio, we believe you have the raw talent this school is looking for. Below are the dates available for your interview, please respond accordingly to which date you'll be able to attend. Holy fucking shit."

"They our curse words in there?" Namjoon asks and leans over to read.

"Joon, he has an interview," Yoongi breathes out. "He--oh my god."

"Good," Namoon murmurs. "School's closer to my place anyways."

"Can I do it, Yoongi?" Jungkook murmurs. "Can I try? Please?"

Yoongi has never agreed to anything faster in his life.

*

"So this is one of your characters," Namjoon says, holding out the paper to Jungkook and sliding it over.

Jungkook picks it up and hums. "No. I don't like it."

"Kook--

"It doesn't match."

"Why are you so picky?" Yoongi laughs, kisses the top of Jungkook's head and watches as his two boys sort through new drawings Jungkook's made in the past week.

"I have to be the best, Yoongi," Jungkook says easily. "I have to."

"Ok. Ok. Well, I'm gonna take this character and redesign it a bit for my interview," Namjoon says lightly, smiling over at Jungkook. "My company expects more stuff this time around since I cancelled last time. Jin says there's a big buzz about my stuff with the higher ups. They're excited for it."

"Do you have more solid work down, babe?" Yoongi murmurs, moving to kiss Namjoon's head now.

"It's--yeah," Namjoon says softly. "It's--it's different than Minki and the Starwhale. It's--my main character isn't lonely anymore. He finds a family spread throughout all of the galaxy so it's no longer one person he's relying on, it's several. And they all rely on him, too."

"That sounds beautiful, baby," Yoongi whispers.

"I'm just ready to put Minki behind me. He gave me a lot, ya know? But I'm tired of the lonely prince. I'm ready for a family."

"Me too," Yoongi murmurs. "Me too."

*

"I think--I think our sessions should maybe stop," Yoongi suggests to Dr. Byers, smiling happily. "I feel good. I told you, I was fine."

"What makes you feel good?" She asks slowly.

While she's done a lot for Kook, helped him start to learn to cope, she's been nearly useless for Yoongi. So, Yoongi scoffs, laughs. "Lots of things. Like--like right now, Kook got an interview for a new school. Namjoon's finally presenting his new work to his job. Uh--and--oh, Jungkook is drawing again. He's--he's not having so many outbursts. He's leaving the closet more often. He--he--

"What part of yourself makes you feel good?" She interrupts. "I'm really happy for your family, I really am. But all you're listing are good things that happen to them. What about you?"

Yoongi blinks a few times and his smile drops. "I don't--I don't understand the question."

"Think about it and I'll see you for our next session, Yoongi."

*

Jungkook goes to his interview the next day and walks out with tears down his cheeks and one of the teachers present offering out her hand to both Namjoon and Yoongi.

"Welcome to our Academy," she says happily.

Yoongi ends up crying too.

*

Things are good, so good. But like all good things, they always come to a sudden end.

One day Yoongi wakes up to kisses, goes to bed with a hand in his hand, and then the next Namjoon won't even look at him. His feet drag as he makes his way through his own house, he doesn't eat as much, just goes to his office to work silently.

But he doesn't work. Not really. He sits there and stares blankly ahead of himself.

"Did I do something wrong?" Yoongi asks him quietly after dinner when Namjoon played with his food more than eating it.

"Just--just a bad day," he murmurs.

*

A bad day turns into several bad days and Yoongi's on edge.

He chews on the edges of his nails until he's bleeding.

He walks on his toes to avoid being too loud.

He hates this. He hates this.

"I think--I don't know what to do," Yoongi rushes out in a whisper. "He was ok one day and then--and then--"

"Has Namjoon ever hurt you?" Dr. Byers asks gently.

"No," Yoongi laughs bitterly. "Never. I'm---I don't know why I'm so scared, ya know? I didn't do anything wrong. I didn't--maybe I should--maybe I need to leave? Maybe I'm--

"Have you asked him what he wants?"

No.

"Are you scared to ask?"

Yes.

Yoongi nods his head.

"Why?"

"Because--because what if he doesn't want me anymore?" Yoongi says out loud, eyes watering. "Why--why would he want me? I--I came into his life to fuck it up."

"Is that what you think?"

"It's what I know," Yoongi corrects her. "It's what I'm good at. Just--just ruining everything."

"And who told you that?"

Yoongi closes his eyes and breathes. "My--my mom. Right--right before she kicked me out."

"Do you wanna talk about why she kicked you out?"

"Because she didn't want me," Yoongi laughs. "I--I--I slept with her boyfriend. Sleeping with people I shouldn't always fuckin' gets me in trouble. I always hurt everyone."

"No, you don't. You hurt yourself and make your life's purpose to make everyone else happy when that's not why you're here. You're not just some happiness in a cup that people can sip from when they want to."

"Aren't I?" Yoongi laughs.

"No. But neither is Namjoon."

Yoongi nods slowly. "I don't know how to be there for him. I don't know what to do. I just--we're both just stuck in this massive storm and I can't pull him over to me because he'll get trapped in the storm and he can't pull me because vice versa so we're just trapped. We're trapped in this fucking--I don't know--tornado or hurricane and we can't--we can't save each other."

"It's not about saving each other, it's about saving yourselves and weathering the storms together. Love isn't a safety net, it's the foundation that never crumbles even after a storm blows by."

"What if it rains forever?"

"Learn to swim," she says and laughs softly.

"Ok," Yoongi whispers. "Ok."

*

"Joon?" Jungkook whispers, moving to walk inside of Namjoon's bedroom where the older man is laying on the bed silently. "When's Yoongi coming back?"

Namjoon, with all the strength he can muster, replies with, "soon."

"Oh. Ok."

Jungkook doesn't leave.

"Do you need something...bud?" Namjoon murmurs.

"I--uhm. I'm sorry," Jungkook whispers, sounding small and afraid.

That doesn't sit well with Namjoon so he sits up in bed and turns to look at Jungkook. "For what?"

"I--I didn't--I didn't mean to," he says, looking so much smaller than Jungkook ever has. "I didn't mean to."

And Namjoon notices the tablet in Jungkook's hands but now the screen is shattered. "Oh."

"Don't be mad at Yoongi," Jungkook starts to cry and Namjoon watches in horror as he hears a stream of liquid on his carpet and sees Jungkook's gray pants darken along the side of one of his legs. "I'm sorry. I did it."

"No, buddy," Namjoon whispers, gets out of bed quickly, moving to Jungkook to take the tablet out of his hands and sees the blood all over his palms. "Baby, what happened?" Jungkook looks up at him with wet eyes and Namjoon sees the busted lip and curses. "Did it fall on your face?"

Jungkook nods. "And then on the ground. I tried to--I tried to put it together but--but--

"Hey, hey. It's ok. Ok? You're ok. I'm not mad."

"Promise?"

"Yeah, buddy. Promise."

"Promise you won't hurt Yoongi?" Jungkook pleads more desperately.

"I promise," Namjoon whispers back, moving to take Jungkook to the bathroom and clean him up.

By the time Yoongi is home from the therapist, all evidence of the accident are gone and Jungkook is sitting guiltily on the couch watching cartoons.

"Joon still in his room?" Yoongi asks Jungkook and the little boy nods sheepishly.

Yoongi kisses his head and then walks into the bedroom, crawling into the bed to lay right behind Namjoon, staring at his back. "I'm sorry I don't know how to help you," Yoongi says softly. "I'm sorry I put so much pressure on you. I'm--I'm sorry, Joon."

Namjoon doesn't move, doesn't say anything for a while and when he does, Yoongi nearly cries. "You're leaving me, aren't you?"

"What?"

"Just tell me you're leaving and then go. I don't want to hear excuses."

"Namjoon," Yoongi huffs, reaches over to grab his shoulder. "Baby, I don't--I love you."

"But not enough to stay right?" Namjoon asks, voice croaking. "Because I'm--I'm not good enough. I don't--because I'm sad when--when I shouldn't be. I have everything. I have everything but why do I feel so empty?"

Yoongi's nose brushes along the back of Namjoon's neck. "Because...because you're human," he whispers. "And humans feel all the good and the bad. We feel pain and anger and we also feel happy, so happy that sometimes it's scary because what if that goes away? And sometimes we feel empty because when we give and give and give, it empties us out."

"I'm breaking Jungkook's promise. I said I'd take care of you."

"No, Joon. Let it be my turn to take care of you," Yoongi whispers, makes a soft noise as Namjoon turns around to face Yoongi directly.

"But you're hurting."

"And you're hurting too."

"But--but--

"Do you know what this is?" Yoongi asks. "When two damaged people try to heal each other is?"

"No."

"It's love. And I love you," Yoongi says softly. "I love you so much I'm so scared of it sometimes. And I will love you so much that it'll fill every empty space in your soul, Joon. Just--just like you've done for me. I'll give you the best of me like you've given the best of you."

Namjoon wraps his arms around Yoongi and grips tightly until Yoongi feels like they'll melt into each other. He finds that he doesn't mind that thought at all.

"I don't wanna exist here anymore, Yoon," Namjoon cries.

"It's ok. It's ok," Yoongi soothes.

*

When Namjoon wakes up the next morning, he's not surprised that he's alone in his bed. Jungkook still doesn't want a bed at night and Yoongi won't leave him alone. He feels guilty, though, for having left them alone. He promised to protect them.

He gets out of bed even when he wants nothing more than to sink back into the covers and bury himself until he feels like he doesn't exist. But he pushes through that, keeps going on and walks out into the living room, headed towards his office and stops when he sees an envelope taped to the door.

Gingerly, he takes it off the door and opens it up, unfolds the letter and makes a face as he reads it.

Captain Namjoon, your ship awaits.

He frowns, then knocks on the door once, hears a squeak and a hushing sound, and then he's opening the door and--he the breath leaves his lungs.

His office doesn't look like his office anymore, it's overrun by blankets being hung everywhere. And on those blankets are pieces of paper taped to them, different drawings that he recognizes as Jungkook's and some other's he assumes are Yoongi. The blanket fort is covered with fairy lights and he's a little lost on exactly what's going on.

And then he sees the two of them, sees them standing off to the side silently before Jungkook steps forward, offering out a hat to Namjoon. "Captain, your airship awaits you."

It clicks.

Makes sense.

The drawings are windows, looking out into the sky. The scattered, random pieces of furniture are the inside of this makeshift, blanket airship.

"Captain?" Yoongi asks softly. "Do you want to board your airship?"

Namjoon said he didn't want to exist and he doesn't. He's not an artist here, he's a captain. He has a crew. He doesn't exist. He doesn't exist.

And he gets to give the best he can.

"Aye," Namjoon laughs wetly, takes the hat from Yoongi's hands and puts it on. "Man the sails, Kookie. We're flying through."

"Aye, Captain."

"And what do I do, captain?" Yoongi asks.

"You stand with me, Yoongi. Things are about to get tough out there, there's a storm coming. Things might get scary," Namjoon warns him.

"That's ok," Yoongi says, takes Namjoon's hand and pulls him further into the airship. "We'll bear the storm together."

"Together," Namjoon agrees and smiles for the first time in days.

*

Jungkook still has outbursts. Still gets bouts of violence, hurts himself, lashes out. But they're fewer and far between. And, two weeks before school starts, asks if the three of them can sleep in a bed instead of the closet.

*

And it's during Jungkook's first week of school when he has his first big blow up in weeks.

The stress, Dr. Byers explains to them, is a trigger for Jungkook. Feeling lost, maybe alone, confused. Feeling weak. All triggers.

She assures them all it'll get better.

*

It doesn't.

*

Jungkook, on his birthday, gets sent home with a busted lip and a black eye. They tell him he should stay home for the rest of the week. It's technically required but because he's with Namjoon, it won't stay on his record.

"Do you wanna talk about what happened?" Namjoon asks Jungkook, both of them riding the bus together as Yoongi stays home to give them time together.

"I said mean things."

"Why?"

"Because they started it first," Jungkook replies softly, turning to look up at Namjoon. "Are you mad?"

"No, Kookie. We--you're not in trouble."

"Ok."

"It's your birthday."

"I know," Jungkook murmurs numbly.

"We're going somewhere cool."

Cool being a store where Jungkook gets to pick another drawing tablet out even when Kook protests. "But Namjoon--

"Don't worry about it, Kookie," he says lightly, pulling out his wallet to pay for it with a smile on his face.

*

When Jungkook comes home with a brand new tablet in his hands, it's to a small little party with Yoongi and Jimin, Tae, and Jin. There's a big cake in the middle of the table and Jimin's painting kit to facepaint them all.

"Happy birthday, Kookie," Yoongi sing songs, kisses his cheek, and laughs.

Jungkook melts into the embrace and smiles harder.

It's the best birthday ever because Yoongi doesn't have to work later on that night. He gets to be held as he falls asleep and knows Yoongi won't leave him anymore. He promised. He promised.

Yoongi always keeps his promises.

*

Until he doesn't.

*

"Kookie," Yoongi murmurs. "I have to go to work, baby."

Jungkook feels his life shatter again.

*

He whimpers, tries to breathe in through his nose and out through his mouth like Dr. Byers taught him but he can't get his first breath in. He tries to focus on anything else, tries not to count but he fails. He counts to 64 and stops, starts over again, cries as he can't stop counting.

"Kookie."

"Thirty eight. Thi-thirty nine--

"Kookie, it's not--it's not like before," Yoongi whispers, holds his face in his hands. "It's a nice job. People are nice now."

Jungkook shakes his head. "Forty one. Forty two."

"We can go visit Yoongi at work, buddy," Namjoon offers. "It's not like before. It's not."

"You--you--you promise--promised," Jungkook stumbles out.

"Come tonight and you'll see, Kookie. You'll see it's not bad. You'll see that the money in this money jar isn't like before. I swear, Kookie. I swear."

*

Yoongi trades out his wigs and skirts for an apron and jeans. Yoongi doesn't stand on street corners, doesn't go into back alleys and bathrooms, doesn't need to get on his hands and knees and beg for money. This time, he collects the money off of tables. He refills drinks, brings out hot food.

Jungkook is still nervous, sits rigidly in the booth as Yoongi takes their order and winks at them before turning on his heel to go into the back. Jungkook watches him, eyes widening when he can't see Yoongi and starting to tremble.

"It's ok," Namjoon whispers, reaches across the table to place a hando on Kook's. "Yoongi is safe here."

He's unsure, at first. Is nervous the first few times they go to visit Yoongi at work. He even inspects Yoongi when they get home, touches all over his face to make sure he's not hiding any bruises with make up and finally relents after two weeks of no bad things.

The next time they go visit Yoongi, Jungkook asks to pay.

"Give him this," Namjoon instructs Jungkook. "And tell him to keep the change."

After they're done with the meal and ready to go home, Yoongi takes the money from Jungkook's hands and tells him to keep the change.

"Kook, I can't," Yoongi laughs. "I--

"D-Don't worry about it," Jungkook says slowly, nodding, smiling at himself.

"Ok," Yoongi says softly, smiling back at him. "I won't."

*

It's sometime in October when it happens. When Yoongi's been going to a therapist for months now, avoiding all talks of painful things and filling up their time together with other stuff. It's in the middle of him ranting about being stressed out a bit by customers, by Jungkook's constant stream of new projects and homework when he finally breaks a piece of himself and offers it out to Dr. Byers.

"I like wearing dresses," Yoongi says slowly. "And skirts. I like lipgloss and--uh--feeling pretty," he says slowly.

Dr. Byers nods. "Skirts are cool," she says lightly and smiles when Yoongi laughs.

"Skirts are cool," Yoongi agrees with a laugh and then bites at his bottom lip. "My step dad used to tell me I was a good boy," he starts off. "The best of boys, ya know? I was, like, eleven. And I didn't--I hated the feeling afterwards. I didn't--I didn't want to be me. So when I was, like, thirteen, I snuck into my mom's make up and put some on and I liked--I liked how I felt because for a second, I didn't feel like me."

"Why didn't you want to feel like you?" She asks carefully.

"I--I felt-- feel dirty," Yoongi says softly. "I don't--I don't feel clean. I never do. So it's--I don't feel safe. I never feel safe, no matter how good things are, I can't feel safe. Not even in my own skin."

"Do you know where that stems from?"

Yoongi shakes his head.

"It stems from never having a safe space. Not in a person or even physically. You don't know what feeling safe feels like because it's always been about hurting yourself to even stay in a space, do you understand?"

Yoongi nods.

"You're always waiting for the bomb to drop."

Yoongi's eyes sting and he nods. "Because there's always a fucking bomb," he whispers. "It's always fucking there just waiting to destroy everything I've worked for, ya know? Because it always happens and I'm always the one that gets blown to pieces and I have to keep going and pretend I'm ok. But--but I'm--I'm not ok," Yoongi gets out. "I'm not ok. I'm--I'm really far from ok, aren't I?"

"I think that's sort of up to you to decide how ok you are," she replies.

imfine.

itdoesntevenhurt

idontcount

imnothuman

"I'm--I'm not ok," Yoongi says firmly, blinking at the wetness in his eyes. "And, and I think I've been lying to myself for a really, really long time that I am ok. But I'm not."

"Why are you not ok, Yoongi?" She asks, her own face twisting in sympathy.

Yoongi feels something bubbling in his chest, clawing its way up to get out. He bounces his leg, chews on his lip, scratches at his skin.

"I was--oh God, it's--I was--it should be easy to say. It's been months, ya know? Why can't I--I just--it--I was--I was--I was raped," Yoongi stumbles out.

The word is vile, disgusting, putrid, and rotten. Raped. Because it wasn't sex. There's no such thing as non censual sex because there's a word for it and it's raped.

He was raped.

Dr. Byers stares. "Do you need to roar?" She asks.

Yoongi laughs, loud. Long and hard. Until it's not laughter. Until there are tears coming down from his eyes, until he's hiding his face in his hands and crying.

"I hate them," Yoongi grits out. "I hate them all. It--she didn't protect me. I tried to tell her but she--she didn't--she didn't believe me. "

I said no.

I didn't say no, but I didn't want it.

I feel so dirty.

I just want to stop feeling dirty.

I just want to feel safe.

"She thought I was lying," Yoongi cries.

"She let you down, Yoongi," Dr. Byers agrees. "Everyone let you down. You were a kid."

"I had to grow up fast."

"No, you had your innocence ripped from you," she corrects. "You've been in survival mode for over a decade now. And you're living in this--in this headspace where you're always overanalyzing every tiny thing because your life has taught you that something can go wrong at any second, that everyone you meet is a threat. You live in fear of living again in what you were put through."

"And it keeps happening!" He screams. "Every time I think everything is ok, it fucking--it gets ruined. I tried--I tried to keep Jungkook safe--

"And he is safe."

"No, I fucking ruined him! I'm putting him through hell! It's me! It's always my fault!"

"It's not your fault."

"It's always my fault," Yoongi cries. "It's always my fault and I just want Kook to have what I didn't have. I want Kook to feel safe. I want him--I want him to know that he has me. That even if we're sleeping on park benches again, that I'll always be his safe space."

"And you've done everything in your power to give him that and he knows you're his safe space. He knows that you'll always be there. He loves you, Yoongi. He loves you and not once has he blamed you for anything. Come on, say it with me. It's not my fault. Yoongi, breathe. Come on, breathe. Keep crying, scream if you have to. You've been holding it all in and now you're safe. You're safe with me. Say it. Say it."

"It's not my fault."

"Again."

"It's not my fault."

"Good. Good. Again. Until you mean it."

"It's not my fault."

"It's not my fault."

"It's not my fault."

It's not my fault.

*

When Yoongi gets home, he crawls into bed with Namjoon, moving to lay on his chest and ignoring the tv playing in the background.

"How was it?" Namjoon asks quietly, rubbing his hand along Yoongi's back and pulling him closer.

"It was fine," he says and then sighs. "No. It's--I'm not ok."

Namjoon sighs softly, turns to kiss the top of Yoongi's head and hold him close with both arms. "What can I do?"

"Just--just--love me?" Yoongi asks, laughing a bit.

"I do love you," Namjoon says softly. "I love you so much, baby."

"Even if I'm difficult?"

"No matter what."

"Even if I have a lot of toxic shit I need to work on?"

Namjoon pulls back to grab Yoongi's face now, staring into his eyes. "I have a lot of toxic shit I need to work on too."

"But it's different, ya know?"

"No, it's not. Because you love me even on days that I can't love myself, you love me when it's impossible to love me. So why wouldn't I love you?"

"Because I'm broken."

"You're not broken, you're growing. And I'm so fucking thankful that I get to be here and witness you fucking bloom, Yoongi."

"Thank you," Yoongi murmurs, leans in to kiss Namjoon's mouth softly.

"No," Namjoon murmurs back. "Thank you."

*

By November there's an itch in Namjoon's brain that he can't get rid of, it moves throughout Thanksgiving, all the way to December where he finds himself standing in a ring shop with Jungkook. "I wanna ask Yoongi to marry me," he explains to the little boy, turning his head shyly, seeking approval.

"Ok," Jungkook says lightly. "Can I draw the invi--invi--invi--

"Invitations."

"Yeah, that."

Namjoon grins and nods. "I'd have it no other way."

*

Christmas brings so many things. Brings out boxes of lights, ornaments, presents. Jungkook gets one of his early, gets the spare bedroom of the house as his own room with a race car bed and a chalk wall where he can draw if he wants to.

Then on actual Christmas he gets more presents, more toys, more things he could possibly ever have dreamed of and then takes some of the toys he has now and shoves them into a box.

"I have new ones," he explains. "Can we give these away?"

Yoongi is so touched by the gesture he almost cries. And then it's his turn for his present and he takes the tiny box from under the tree and his smile fades when he pops open the velvet box. A silver ring sits there and he feels his throat closing up. "Namjoon?"

"Yeah?"

"This is a bad idea," Yoongi says, eyes never leaving the ring.

"Probably. I don't--you don't have to say yes. Not yet. Not ever. But--but I want to marry you. I want--I want to be with you forever."

"That's--this is a big fucking commitment," Yoongi breathes out and every alarm in his brain is going off, everything telling him that there's so many things that can go wrong, that he should run away, that he needs to say no.

"I know," Namjoon says and moves so that he's on his knee in front of Yoongi. "But I also know that there's no one in the world I'd rather be with than you. I know--I know that even if things don't work out the way we want them to, I know I'll always love you."

"Feelings fade."

"Love isn't a feeling," Namjoon says softly. "Not for me. It's--it's a choice. It's choosing to stay with you even if I have a million reasons to leave. It's choosing to work things out. It's choosing to fall in love with you every single day. I choose you, pikachu."

Yoongi smiles so wide it hurts and then he laughs, shoves Namjoon back. "You can't call me a Pokemon during a proposal," he laughs loudly and then tackles Namjoon to the ground, kissing all over his face.

It's a bad idea, probably. Terrible.

Yoongi says yes anyways.

*

"Break a leg," Yoongi whispers to Namjoon, kissing his mouth quickly before taking a few steps back and grinning.

Namjoon doesn't let him go far, reaches out for Yoongi's fingers so he can run his thumb along the silver ring on Yoongi's finger, letting just the touch of it relax his nerves. "I got this."

"Exactly. You're going to show them all that you've got done, you're gonna tell them that this is the work you're most proud of and they're gonna greenlight it and tell you you're right. It's the best thing you've ever done," Yoongi agrees.

"Yeah," Jungkook pipes in from next to Yoongi. "You're gonna do awesome, Joon."

"We're gonna do awesome," Namjoon corrects him and breathes out. "We did this thing together, ok? Don't you ever forget that."

Jungkook nods and grins. "I won't."

Then Namjoon turns, stares at the scary tall building before him and then walks in, feeling like for once his life is going how he wants it. This is what he's been waiting for.

A chance to start anew.

A chance to be who he wants to be.

*

"Port Blue," Namjoon begins, standing in the board room with everyone inside. They're all in fancy suits, too stuffy for Namjoon's liking but Jin had practically begged him to dress up in something other than baggy jeans and a sweater. "Port Blue is a whimsical tale about several main characters. They live in this magical world that so different from ours. Uhm. The art style is different too. I wanted it less story book like Minki and the Starwhale was. I wanted a bigger world, I wanted more characters. I wanted to capture the feeling of a found family versus a lonely prince who was pining for a lover."

"And these are some of the concept character designs," Jin adds in, moving to press a button on the laptop so that the screen behind Namjoon shows the first of the eight characters. "As you can see, the art style is much more abstract, more avant garde."

"What's the exact story to this---this comic?" One of the men ask, staring at the designs on the screen.

"Oh. It's--complicated. I'm still working out a lot of the kinks but essentially, Port Blue is like a sort of island. Port Blue exists in this world that's-well, it's--it's vertical," Namjoon stumbles. "And so each land that goes up is called a port and Port Blue is the highest of them all. And you can use air ships to get up there but there's also these type of people called windbreakers who can go up there without ships. Windbreaking is where you use these, uh, geyser like air pockets that shoot them up higher and higher. And--

"So there's no animal companion this time?"

Namjoon shakes his head. "No. It's--no. No. I didn't want it to be an animal, I wanted the companions to be human."

"Animal companions are more marketable," another one of the men argue. "Space pirates--

"Air Pirates," Namjoon corrects.

"Right, these, air pirates are--well, they're not as cute as a Starwhale."

"This story isn't really cute. It--it--I'm making a lot of statements about a lot of things. The politics and government in this world are cruel to the people down at the bottom while the top--

"Politics is really isolating to a lot of people, Namjoon. Especially when they don't share your views."

"Leave the politics to the politicians and you stick with drawing cute animals, ok?"

Namjoon's eyes drop down to the ground, nodding slowly. "What would you all prefer I do then?"

"A sequel to Minki would be nice. Profitable."

Had it been a year ago, Namjoon would've caved. Would have gave them everything they asked for and more, would have dragged that Starwhale from the depths of wherever he shoved it and brought it back to life.

But he's not that Namjoon anymore.

"The Starwhale was my crutch," Namjoon starts off slowly. "And the prince was me. I--The Starwhale was the embodiment of my depression. Of the loneliness I felt. Of the journeys my mental illness took me on. How sometimes it's all you know, all you are, and then I let the Starwhale go so that I could be free of my mental illness because it's not your fucking friend. I thought it--the point was to not get comfortable with mental illness because at the end of the day, it's not your fucking friend."

There's silence in the room and it pisses Namjoon off more than it should.

"I want--I want to do this. Not Minki again. I want--I want to explore worlds with people, with humans who are complicated and complex. Who have their own stories, they serve their own purpose, who save themselves! I don't want to go back to the lonely prince, I don't want to be alone. All you people see is fucking money and--and I won't do it. I won't make a sequel. I refuse. You either take this or I walk."

Jin smiles from behind the computer, nods at Namjoon and Namjoon feels his chest swell with pride in himself.

"You can't walk, Namjoon. You're under contract."

And then Namjoon feels his chest cave in.

"You will make a sequel because it's in your contract. We've given you plenty of time to do it and now we expect to see those results in a month."

The Starwhale is back. But he's no longer in disguise as a friend to cure the loneliness. The Starwhale is back and he's just as big as Namjoon remembers him, but he's not friendly. He's demanding, he's needy, he's all consuming and Namjoon doesn't want anything to do with him. Not anymore.

Namjoon's eyes the room slowly, sees all the men who think they're in charge, who think they can just take when they want to and realizes what he has to do.

"If I sign over all of my rights to Minki and the Starwhale, if I give up all of my creative freedom, all of my royalties, if I give it to you, will you let me go?" Namjoon asks softly.

They talk it over quietly, nodding their heads. And Jin, Jin who's been there for Namjoon since the beginning, who's believed in him--smiles at Namjoon as one of them men finally says, "yes."

And so, for the second time in his life, Namjoon lets the Starwhale go free.

*

When Namjoon storms out of the building ten minutes later, Yoongi and Kook run after him. "Namjoon!"

"Just--just give me--just--

"Joonie, what's going on?" Yoongi interrupts, grabbing at his arm to stop him.

"I walked out on them," Namjoon says softly. "They didn't--they wanted another Minki and the fucking Starwhale and they--they didn't want me. "

"Baby."

"They wanted Minki so fucking bad that I just gave it to them. I signed it all away to them, gave them all the rights. That's the only way I'd be free. But--but now--but now I just--I'm--"

"Joon."

"I'm nothing," he laughs humorlessly. "I'm no one. I don't--I don't have the Starwhale anymore."

"You don't need the Starwhale," Yoongi tells him seriously, moving to grab Namjoon's face in his hands to get him to listen. "You don't need him."

*

When they get home, everything is silent and tense between them all. There's an air of uncertainty and loss in the air and Namjoon hates it all.

"Namjoon?" Jungkook pipes up.

"Yeah, buddy?"

"Are you scared?"

"Very much so," he admits softly, feeling as Jungkook's fingers curl around his own and tugs him towards the office, moving into the closet. "It's ok to be scared. We can be scared in here together and I'll protect you."

Namjoon curls his too long of limbs up tightly so he can fit in the corner of the closet, arms wrapped around Jungkook.

"And I'll stay right here and take care of you," Yoongi offers up, "I'll keep you safe this time."

*

"Are you still scared about money?" Yoongi asks Namjoon when he's been officially unemployed for a week.

"I--I mean--I wasn't dumb with my money. I wasn't--my biggest purchase was this house so I have stuff saved up. I just--yeah, I'm scared. It's not just me, anymore. I have you and Kook."

"Joon, if I need to, I'll go back to--

Namjoon shuts him up with a kiss to his mouth. "No," Namjoon whispers against his mouth. "I'd rather be fucking homeless," he says and then pulls back so he can rub his thumb over Yoongi's cheek. "I--you can pawn your ring. You don't have to stay. Things are--I don't know what's gonna happen. I don't know if--I don't know if I can give you everything anymore."

"I don't want everything," Yoongi argues. "I just want you. And if being with you means sleeping outside, then so be it. We'll sleep under the stars."

"Yoongi, we might be losing everything."

"Not everything," Yoongi whispers. "We still have each other and that's what matters, Joon."

Namjoon, in spite of everything, smiles and nods. "Some company will want me, right?"

"Absolutely. You're Kim Namjoon. "

"I'm Kim Namjoon."

"Award winning artist."

Namjoon smiles wide and nods, feeling the hope blossom again in his chest.

"I believe in you, Kim Namjoon."

*

Yoongi works doubles nearly six days a week as Namjoon stays at home and draws, has interviews with other possible companies and with each passing no he gets, he gets more discouraged. When the bills start to pile higher, when they're in the red even with Yoongi working long hours, Namjoon gives in and applies down at the hardware store to work in stock during the overnight shifts.

He finishes Port Blue three days before Yoongi's birthday and then takes Jungkook downtown after school to go pick up a present for him. It's something small, simple, a tiny little necklace that looks delicate and lovely. And Jungkook loves it, talks about how perfect it is as they walk past the stores in downtown before he stops completely and stares dumbly into one of the stores.

Namjoon stops walking and snorts. "Kook? Come on, buddy. We'll miss the bus."

"Yoongi would look so pretty in that," Kook murmurs.

Namjoon walks up to him, stands behind him to look inside and hisses. It's--it's a dress. A lovely dress, so beautiful and soft. And, yeah, Yoongi would look amazing in it. He's seen it in Yoongi's eyes, seen the way they've been lingering more and more on women and the way their skirts move. He's seen it in the way that he always passes by the make up section on their grocery days and his fingers always grab at one particular lipgloss with glitter in it.

Namjoon doesn't have the money for it. Not in the slightest. But he can't care because Yoongi would look so pretty in that dress, would feel so lovely with that lipgloss he's been longing for. Fuck it, he'll work extra shifts.

He walks into the store with Jungkook and buys the dress.

Then they walk to the grocery store where he gives Jungkook cash so he can buy the lipgloss and mascara for Yoongi from himself, even sneaking in a cute beret with the little money he has.

Then they go home and package up all the presents and surprise Yoongi in the morning of his birthday with cupcakes and a candle on top of one of them, singing loudly and off key.

"You didn't have to," Yoongi laughs loudly, blowing out the candle before he has time to make a wish.

"Baby, we gotta light it up again. You forgot to wish for something."

"I've got nothing left to wish for," Yoongi laughs. "Everything I want is right here," he says happily, rolling his eyes at the bag of presents. "You didn't have to, baby."

"We wanted to," Jungkook responds, tucking himself under Yoongi's chin and smiling as Yoongi opens up the presents.

And with each one, his eyes get wetter and wetter until he finally has it all laid out across his lap. Pretty things. All so pretty, soft, delicate. "I wouldn't even know where to wear this," Yoongi laughs.

"I don't know. We can find an occasion," Namjoon says lightly.

"You can wear it for your wedding," Jungkook offers out quietly.

"It's gonna be a while, Kook," Yoongi says lightly.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why wait?"

Namjoon and Yoongi laugh, turn to look at each other and shake their heads. That's ridiculous. They can't just get married. There has to be a right time, they have to do it the right way. They--they--they--

They get married on Yoongi's birthday, surrounded by Jin, Tae, Jimin, and Jungkook. Yoongi wears the dress and kisses Namjoon so hard that he can't breathe.

Things aren't perfect, things are hard. But Yoongi, for the first time in a long time, knows they'll get better.

*

Yoongi's a giggly mess by the time they fall into bed together, curling up happily as Namjoon moves his hands along Yoongi's body but doesn't take what he shouldn't. He just touches, pulls Yoongi closer to kiss his cheeks and love him like this.

"We're married," Yoongi breathes out against Namjoon's mouth. "We're married, Min Namjoon."

Namjoon laughs loudly and nods. "Yeah, yeah. We're married," he says happily. "Happy Birthday, Min Yoongi."

"This has been the best birthday ever, Min Namjoon."

And they fall asleep curled tightly in each other's arms.

*

They've been married a month when it feels like they're finally afloat again. The bills aren't overdue, they're no longer stacking up. Yoongi works doubles four nights a week only. Jungkook is about to get out for Summer break. Things are good, they're solid.

And then Jin comes over with news.

"I quit," he says softly to Namjoon. "I quit because you were right, they were just--you had something to say with Port Blue. You--you've outgrown that stupid whale," Jin says irritably. "What they were trying to do to you was awful," Jin says quietly. "They didn't believe in you."

"That's ok," Namjoon says quietly, shrugging.

"Have you found another publisher?"

Namjoon shakes his head and shrugs. "It's ok. I'm--I'm up for a promotion down at the hardware store. It'll make things easier, ya know? My savings has been helping a lot and with that raise I might get, things can get even smoother."

"Yeah," Jin agrees and looks down. "I didn't quit to get a new job, Joon," he says slowly. "I quit because I didn't want to work with anyone else except you."

"I don't think the hardware store is a good fit for you, Jin," Namjoon laughs.

"That's--that's not what I meant. I--this isn't you, Joon," Jin says softly. "You're not some wanna be manager, you're an artist."

"No one wants my stuff anymore, Jin," Namjoon says quietly. "No one likes it. No one believes in it."

"Tae and Jimin believe in it. Fuck, Yoongi, Jungkook, we believe in it because we believe in you."

"But-

"I still believe in you, Joon," Jin keeps on. "But you have to believe in yourself too." They get quiet for a few moments before Jin continues. "If no one else believes in you, if no one else wants to publish you, then publish it yourself."

"Jin."

"I have money saved up. We can start something together, Joon. No more slave contracts, no more assholes breathing down our necks. It's just us running everything. It'll be ours. But, most importantly, it'll be yours."

Namjoon takes a few deep breaths, shakes his head. "I can't. I can't risk that. I can't--

"I have money saved up too," Yoongi says, coming around the corner of the room. "I can invest."

"Yoongi, no--

"Joon, this is your dream," Yoongi interrupts him.

"I can't ask you to do this."

"You're not asking me to do anything," Yoongi says lightly, moving to stand next to Namjoon, fingers curling into his hair. "I want to. I want to show you exactly how much I believe in you."

"It's a big risk," Jin says softly over to Yoongi. "For all of us."

Yoongi's chest aches, it hurts, feels weird until he feels it unfurl. Feels something blooming, growing, filling the empty spaces that left him jagged and sharp until they're filled with something beautiful and terrifying. Until all Yoongi feels is something he's denied himself of for so long.

Hope.

Hope that things will work out. Hope that even if they don't, they'll work through it.

It's a huge risk that can cost them everything.

But that's the thing about hope.

Where there is hope, there is hardship.

Yoongi is learning that being human is a complicated thing, full of ups and downs. He's learning that he'll never stop learning and that's ok.

It's ok.

It's ok to dream, it's ok to hope, and it's ok to fail. It's ok to be hurt.

It's ok to heal.

"But it's also a chance," Yoongi finally says, voice quiet. "A chance to be something more. And--and I wanna take that chance, Namjoon. I wanna take that chance with you."

"Me too," Jungkook pipes up from his room, walking out with something behind his hands that he pulls to the front when he's close enough. "It's my money jar," he explains. "And it's not really full, but I wanna help too."

"God, no," Namjoon laughs pitifully, turning away from Jungkook as he places the money jar on the table between them all. "God. Don't do this. Kookie, take it back. Don't--God," Namjoon breathes out, taking his hands away from his face to see Jungkook staring up at him hopefully. And Namjoon is so overwhelmed, so ready to burst at the seams with the overwhelming sense of love, of family, of home. "You win. You all win, let's do this. Let's risk it all and start a company together."

"Together," Yoongi agrees.

"Together," Jungkook does too.

And as they hold each other, Yoongi finally understands what it feels like to be safe, to be loved.

Yoongi feels human.

Yoongi is human.

And he wouldn't have it any other way.