051621. jungkook & namjoon & yoongi.

[lovestrippedbare]

SPRING.
May 16, 2021.

WHO jungkook & namjoon & yoongi
WHAT too much to drink

WHERE train car
TIMELINE cycle 5

JUNGKOOK It's entirely possible that Jungkook is overreacting, but something about the typos in Namjoon's texts, as well as the way that he's referencing his living space, doesn't sit well with Jungkook. For a brief while, he considers texting Taehyung to see if he might know what's going on, but in the end Jungkook opts to call Namjoon directly instead.

Probably because when Namjoon doesn't want to bother someone, there's usually something that needs to be said.



NAMJOON Namjoon had just seen Jungkook's last message when his phone lights up in his hands, startling him. Adrenaline rushes into him. It's his mom. She's calling again. He has the impulse to drop his phone, to hide it under his blankets, as if his mother couldn't see him that way.

But it's not his mom, actually. Namjoon stares at the name for maybe a little too long. Does he want to answer? His head swims as it tries to make connections after far too much liquor. When Jungkook calls instead of texts, it's usually not casual. Means you fucked up, Namjoon.

His phone is still ringing, Jungkook's name bounces on the screen. He should answer, he decides. Even if he fucked up, it's not his mom. It's Jungkook.

"Kookie, hi!" Namjoon is louder than usual, and only now that he's trying to use his voice does he feel how numb his lips are, how much they want to stick together. "Hi, I'm sorry about the thing. I'm okay, I swear."



JUNGKOOK The repeated denials are bad enough of a sign, but the slurring is even more alarming. Jungkook pulls in a small breath, frowning as he rubs at his eyes. He never feels quite equipped for moments like these - doesn't know how to make his words come out in a way that isn't clumsy. Being in person would be easier. But in the back of his mind, Jungkook has to wonder if there isn't time for that right now.

"You already said that over text," Jungkook points out dumbly, licking at his lips. "But you don't sound very okay. What's going on, hyung?"



NAMJOON "Ah, yeah." Namjoon has a memory of texts in the middle of the night from Boyeon, repeating information over and over, forgetting what he had said minutes ago. Is Namjoon being irresponsible right now?

No, no, it's not late. And he's allowed drink after work. He might go to bed early, even. Adults can choose what they do with their free time, right?

"Do I sound...? Aish, I mean, I got back from work and then had a drink so, it's just that I made a mistake with the text, so, that was my fault but otherwise it's just, you know, me at home. Really."



JUNGKOOK Jungkook's jaw briefly tenses at the mention of drinking. There's nothing wrong with it, really - not like Jungkook even has the right to complain, when he's been known to indulge in a bottle of soju here and there. But there's alcohol for the sake of loosening up, and then there's alcohol that serves as a mask for other problems. Yoongi's workroom is still littered with plenty of bottles, a constant reminder to Jungkook of how easy it is to use alcohol when turning away from one's problems.

Those problems have a tendency to fester, though.

"I know I'm - I should take hyung at your word," Jungkook says, trying to temper his tone and avoid sounding accusatory. "...but are you - are you sure things are okay? Hyung, you can talk to me, y'know. Even if it's just to bitch about, I don't know. The container being loud at night."



NAMJOON "Mm, is Jungkookie telling me I shouldn't feel like a burden, then?" Namjoon laughs, sliding down from his seated position to lay sideways on his bed. His laughter is cut short when the delayed echo of his own words reach his awareness. He shouldn't have said that. A hyung wouldn't have said that.

His eyes find the whisky glass he had left on the floor near the bed, still half full with some mixture, but he doesn't reach for it. Not yet.

"Things are... Well, everyone's back now, right? Everyone's here. Isn't that great?"



JUNGKOOK The words are - jarring. Yes, that's exactly what Jungkook is trying to say. And yet, something about the way Namjoon laughs feels wrong, like Jungkook's touched a nerve, or perhaps Namjoon is laughing at Jungkook's hypocrisy. Which might be fair. Jungkook hasn't always been forthcoming with all of his troubles.

But he'd like to think that he hasn't been hiding them from Namjoon, either.

He stares down at his lap, ignoring the way his eyes feel slightly too warm. "It's good that everyone's back," Jungkook agrees, pulling in a small breath. "But it's not like - I mean." Would alluding to everything else be ungrateful, after everything Namjoon did to try and pull them all together? "Things aren't... perfect. Either."



NAMJOON "I dunno if things are ever perfect, Jungkookie." Namjoon reaches out for the glass, rolling over onto his stomach so he can drink from it, though, he's not sure why he does. Perhaps it's just inertia to drink more, at this point, but his lips and fingers already feel numb, and his thoughts are buzzing more than enough to be distracting from the--

He lowers the glass a little too hard after draining it (he only meant to take a sip) and the noise of glass on metal halts his thought.

For a second.

But then it comes back slowly, creeping in and around the edges of his mind. Namjoon frowns. How does one escape this?

"... But it's good enough, right? It's not gonna be like high school but if everyone stays then it's still us and then we're all still together and that's what's important, right?"



JUNGKOOK Is it good enough? There's a part of Jungkook that wants to agree vehemently - having everyone back is the single hope he's held onto for so long, and Jungkook knows very well how much Namjoon's helped in making that possible. But there's also a niggling voice at the back of Jungkook's head that says: this can't last. After all, in high school, they had felt invincible. Each with their share of problems, but each also able to push them away entirely when they were gathered as a group.

Yet they still splintered off, one after the other, until they were a shadow of what existed before. It seems possible that it might happen again. Probable, even. Jungkook can't say that he has a deep confidence that each one of his hyungs will stay. And why should they?

It's their happiness that Jungkook finds himself wishing for most, wherever that takes them.

"What's important is that we're. Happy. Happier," Jungkook says softly, fingers toying at the hem of his shirt. "I don't know if that means we'll be - ah." Jungkook licks his lips. "Are you alone, hyung?"



NAMJOON "Y-yeah, I'm..."

Namjoon sits up in his bed, and he probably should have kept laying down. His head spins as he watches the room sway in his vision. He imagines that the car is in use, attached to a train that's gently rocking on the tracks, taking him away...

Away from Seoul.

Scrambling to his feet, he staggers over to his door, fumbling to open the latch with one hand, trying to stay calm against a building anxiety in his chest. When he slides the door open, the sight is the same. Just more empty and forgotten train cars. Not moving. Not taking him out of the city.

Namjoon takes a breath of the evening air that rushes in. "Sorry, yeah, I... Yeah, I'm alone." He sways on his feet, aware that he's gone a little far tonight. Namjoon looks down at his shoes, toeing the edge of the doorway. It's not a long drop to the gravel but the image of the roof of a construction site comes to mind.

"...should I not be?"



JUNGKOOK The sound of groaning metal in the background is startling enough that Jungkook sits up, then gets to his feet, checking the clock on his phone before pressing it back to his ear. He's been wandering slowly ever since class was dismissed, vaguely in the direction of Yoongi's workroom, but having stopped by a convenience store to pick up a few things. Jungkook glances around him, briefly making eye contact with the cashier before he steps back out into the street, automatic doors whispering as they close behind him.

"What was - no, I wasn't trying to say that there should be anyone with you, I was just," Jungkook runs his fingers through his hair. "Wondering if I could come over."



NAMJOON "No, it's okay," Namjoon says, resigned. Ungracefully, he drops down to sit in the doorway. Nothing is moving. He's not going anywhere. He won't.

He groans a little, rubbing his eyes with one hand. He feels the swaying with his eyes closed, the image of a moving train doesn't go away until he looks back at what's in front of him. Having to keep convincing himself that he's not moving, forgetting things he's already said to Jungkook, forgetting that he's on the phone until Jungkook says anything... and none of this helping him forget that his mother can call again at any time. If this were someone else, Namjoon would tell them that they shouldn't be alone tonight. Namjoon shouldn't be alone.

"Yeah, you should-- yeah. Yeah, you can come over."



JUNGKOOK Jungkook checks the contents of his bag again - a couple of prepared meals that won't taste as good without being warmed up first, but also a few rolls of kimbap and bread, which should probably help soak up some of whatever Namjoon's having to drink. He glances over his shoulder, weighing the pros and cons of ducking in to get another item or two, and decides that the extra minute is worth it, scrambling for the largest bottle of Pocari and then handing off a couple of bills to the cashier, waving off the change.

Not suspicious at all.

"Okay, hyung, I'm gonna be right over," Jungkook says, frowning to himself and considering the fastest route over to Namjoon. The trains aren't particularly close to any of the subway stations, and buses are a little more unreliable at this hour with all the people coming off of work. Running might be his best bet. "Gimme like... fifteen minutes."



NAMJOON "Yeah."

You fucked up, Namjoon.

"Okay."

You made Jungkook worry and now he thinks something is wrong and now you're going to have to lean on him when you really, really shouldn't.

"I'll, uh..."

Jungkook was the last person you wanted to talk to about your father and now look what you've gone and done.

"I'll be here."

Why did this kid have to be so observant? Why did he have to care so much, and love so much?

"Sorry, Kookie. I'll see you soon."

Namjoon rests his head against the door for a moment, looking down at his dangling feet over the tracks. Fifteen minutes. That's enough time for one more drink.



JUNGKOOK Only once Jungkook's within possible hearing distance does he finally slow down, wiping his sleeve across his brow and hoping that he doesn't look like too much of a mess - not that he expects Namjoon to care much one way or the other. He's turned up looking far worse, soot and ash caught in his hair, barely even cognizant of everything around him. This time, Jungkook thinks with a sinking feeling, the tables might have turned.

He wants to believe Namjoon when his hyung says that there's nothing to worry about, no reason to be concerned. That maybe all this amounts to is Namjoon having dipped too deep into the glass and the resulting melancholy. If it's no more than that, then maybe Jungkook will be able to provide some amount of comfort and company to drive away a lonely evening. But if it's more-

-well, no need to dwell when he's only several meters away.

"Hyung?" Jungkook calls out, announcing his arrival with a light tap on the side of the car.



NAMJOON As much as Namjoon wanted to save Jungkook from being involved in his nightly downward spiral, he feels genuine relief when he hears the voice calling out to him. A real smile spreads across his face as he heaves himself off of his bed, mostly full glass in hand, to greet his friend. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad, after all.

Namjoon hadn't closed the door since getting off the phone. He emerges from the darkness of the train car, poking his head out to grin at a disheveled Jungkook.

"Hey, Jungkookie!" Holding onto the doorway for balance, Namjoon drops himself again to a seat on the car floor, legs swinging over the edge, and he slaps the metal beside him as he takes a sip from his glass. "Come sit. Thanks for coming. You're always so... y'know. You always show up."



JUNGKOOK The earlier confusion and fog in Namjoon's voice seems to have dissipated a bit, and Jungkook finds himself breathing a small sigh of relief, though he remains wary. It's not hard to smile back; regardless of the circumstances, Jungkook finds that he always enjoys his hyung's company. More than anything, he's glad that he's not being turned away. The worst things happen, Jungkook thinks, when any of them insist on being alone.

"Ah, hyung," Jungkook greets, carefully noting the slight sway of Namjoon's movements before he hoists himself onto the car floor, sliding until the both of them are seated thigh to thigh. He rests his plastic bag off to one side with a light rustle, and glances briefly at the glass in Namjoon's hand, though the color alone isn't enough to clue Jungkook in on what his hyung's having. Some type of alcohol, obviously. Beyond that, Jungkook's too inexperienced to know.

"I always show up," he confirms with a firm nod, hands awkwardly resting on his lap as he kicks his feet out. "You said that I should come over more often, right?" He bumps Namjoon's shoulder with his own. "Long day?"



NAMJOON "Mm, but you always ask, though," Namjoon says, his head bobbing to the side from Jungkook's nudge before taking another sip. He's proud of this mixture, and prouder that he made it while drunk. He cut the bitterness with just the right sweetness and he's pleased he didn't break or spill anything in the process. Maybe it's irresponsible to be adding the fun stuff to the mix while Jungkook was here, but that's not what he's thinking about right now. "You always show up, but you always ask." He takes a longer sip. It's good. He's pleased.

"See, if I can help it, I don't ask anything. I mean, sometimes I have to, but," With his thoughts and his words pleasantly loose, Namjoon's train of thought veers away from Jungkook's question, in an entirely different direction than probably intended. "I'll infer as much as I can so the person doesn't have to say it all, y'know? Or they have to say as little as possible about it. Sometimes saying it is the what is the... y'know, the thing that hurts to do."

He furrows his brow, making sure he had reordered his words correctly then, a little embarrassed, dives back into his glass.



JUNGKOOK Piecing together Namjoon's words is a bit of a struggle - at first, Jungkook assumes Namjoon's trying to imply that his dongsaeng doesn't need to ask before coming over, but then the flow of conversation heads somewhere different. A tangent that Jungkook isn't sure how to follow at first, though eventually the thoughts start to slide into place. Jungkook always asks - not just about whether or not it's an appropriate time to come, but also about how their day is going. What troubles them. What he can do to help.

Why they aren't being forthcoming.

And maybe the last thing that Jungkook should be doing now is asking yet more, when Namjoon shares something that Jungkook so rarely considers - that his questions themselves might be a source of pain. He frowns, looking down at his hands, and maybe there's some truth to the fact that he shouldn't need to ask. Adults would know when the questions are appropriate. Adults like Namjoon.

"I guess I... hurt hyung earlier, huh," Jungkook remarks quietly, swinging his legs. "By asking you to say more."



NAMJOON "Noooo, it's not like thaaat." Namjoon bumps Jungkook with his shoulder. Even through the blur of alcohol, he knows he doesn't like it when Jungkook retreats at all. "You're not the thing that hurts, you're not doing the hurting. The hurtful thing just pops up and it makes it hard to answer if you rush at it head-on, so sometimes you gotta sneak around it and then sometimes it feels better to talk about that way."

"Emotions are... y'know, you gotta be sneaky. You gotta be a ninja." Namjoon laughs, punching Jungkook's shoulder. "Jungkookie knows about being a ninja!"

He leans back, resting one hand behind him, holding out his glass to Jungkook with the other. "Here."



JUNGKOOK Jungkook isn't sure whether or not he agrees with the distinction Namjoon makes. Maybe Jungkook isn't the one who's the true source of the pain, but clumsily walking all over someone else's emotions doesn't seem all that much better. He finds himself constantly vacillating between doggedly pursuing the truth and sidestepping it entirely, and both have a tendency of causing pain. The two weeks leading up to May had been quiet, a charged silence between himself and Yoongi, never a good time to broach the subject until it was too late.

"I'm more of a physical ninja, though," Jungkook murmurs. "Probably the opposite of hyung. With emotions, I don't know if I can be very smooth."

He blinks when the glass is held out in front of him, briefly meeting Namjoon's gaze before he takes it, then tilts it back for a slight sip. "Ah," he says a moment later, smacking his lips. "That's nice."



NAMJOON "Yeah, it's good, huh." Without something in his hands, Namjoon feels even more off balance, lopsided. He slumps to one side, resting his head and shoulder against the doorframe beside him as he watches Jungkook. "I'm getting good at it. At doing that. People really like the pain-ey alcoholley taste like it makes you a big strong man or something to drink something that burns your insides, but I'm like... I'm thinking like... Why can't you get drunk and also enjoy what you're drinking, I don't know."

He shrugs, smiling. What few lights he can see in his field of view begin to get a little brighter, get a little more sparkle, a little more glimmer in the what should be dull orange beams - a glimmer that definitely wasn't there on a normal night. Namjoon sighs, feeling a lightness in his chest and his fingers and his toes, happily not thinking about the things that he... what was he supposed to be thinking about?

He hums a little. "So what big plans did Jungkookie have tonight?"



JUNGKOOK "You'd make a good bartender," Jungkook muses quietly, pausing before taking another sip from the glass, deeper this time. "Not that I've snuck into a bar or anything, but - you know, hyung's good at talking to people... hyung's really likable. I bet people would tell you all kinds of crazy stories that they don't tell anyone else." Jungkook lowers the glass, turning it in his hands. In the darkness, it's hard to tell what the color of the liquid is; the moon reflects off of the surface, changing the hue as Jungkook tilts the drink back and forth.

"I guess I kinda pushed myself to drink, like, black coffee. Years ago," Jungkook grins with a small shrug, leaning back until he's able to brace his weight with his free hand. "Because I thought it was really mature, and because Yoongi drank it. Then he told me it really wasn't necessary, you know, to push myself like that. So now I drink the really sugary stuff. Except when I'm on a diet."

Jungkook drains the glass then, lightly lowering it back to the floor of the train car with a slight tap. For all that the taste is sweet and pleasant on the tongue, it still burns a little in the stomach - but Jungkook finds that he enjoys that, the warmth that he's able to hold onto. "I didn't have any big plans, hyung," he drawls, tilting his head to the side. "But I stay with Yoongi most nights now. Was just picking up some stuff from the convenience store. Ah - I bought more when I knew I was gonna stop by here. Kimbap and bread, and... Pocari Sweat. Mm. Is hyung hungry?"



NAMJOON "Yoongi's really cool, huh?" Namjoon, still slumped against the door frame, smiles as he watches Jungkook finish the drink. "I used to try to copy him too."

"Hmm." His eyes roam around the area in front of him, finding new glimmers of light to track. "A bartender, a tattoo artist. I've become some kind of hyung out of school. My parents would be so p-pr... oud."

Namjoon stutters as he catches up to the words he's saying. This is what he's supposed to be thinking about. No. His eyes go wide as the colour drains from his face. No, no, no. He swivels toward Jungkook, every thought in his head focused on diverting his attention from this.

"Hungry? I dunno. I think the real question is, are you thirsty?"

Without waiting for an answer, Namjoon clumsily rises from his seat and stumbles into the darkness of his train car, heading for his glittering arrangement of liquor bottles.



JUNGKOOK It strikes Jungkook as surprising to hear that Namjoon ever felt like emulating someone else. In Jungkook's mind, Namjoon's always been Namjoon - the most like a leader out of all of them. Always shouldering more responsibilities. Smarter, brighter than the rest of them could ever be. It never occurred that there must be other people that Namjoon looked up to as examples as well. But of course there must be. No one comes into existence fully formed, no one comes into existence untethered.

Jungkook watches as Namjoon stammers, as his face takes on a certain pallor. Parents.

Ah.

Don't ask, he tells himself, though the questions come forth in his eyes anyway as he turns towards Namjoon, pulling both of his feet up onto the train car and wrapping his arms around his knees. What is it about Namjoon's parents, Jungkook wonders. Is his hyung still in contact with them? (Does he ever regret returning to Seoul?)

"I can have another, if hyung is," Jungkook says, leaning forward to pick up his glass again. If nothing else, Jungkook can offer his company. And maybe liquor will help to loosen tongues, to ease the pain. Jungkook feels like he's caused enough of it already.



NAMJOON When Namjoon walks towards the back of his room, he has to pass his desk, where his phone lay. He eyes it as he strides by, giving it as wide of a berth as he could in the space, as if it could reach out and snap at him if he got too close.

He kneels in the corner where his liquor was stored, grabbing a second glass. It would be smart to turn on the lamp, but the lamp was on his desk, where his phone was. Anyways, there's enough bounced light coming through the door for Namjoon to see what he was doing. Definitely.

"Come over here, if you want one," He calls to Jungkook. "I only have the two glasses, I guess I didn't really consider that there'd be any more than two people drinking in here, and even then it was kind of just a guess. But now that everyone's back I guess I should invest in more, right? Hey, everyone's back now! Maybe we can do that thing where you do all the bunnies for everyone and finish off all your ninja tagging on the back of my house."

It's easier to talk about nothing. On a normal day, Namjoon checks himself for rambling but something feels good about allowing it now. Encouraging it, even. Like the words put something tangible between him and the thoughts he needs to keep at bay.

And his hands work as he speaks, only half paying attention to the clinking of the glass bottles against each other as he halfhazardly drops different liquids into his glass.



JUNGKOOK Namjoon's babbling, the pace of his syllables picking up in spite of the slight slur in his voice. Unease continues to worm deep under Jungkook's skin as he picks himself up, blinking in surprise when his own balance isn't as good as he expects it to be. (Maybe he's just tired.) But for all that Namjoon's searching for distractions, he seems clear-minded, even with a few drinks coursing through his veins. Enough that he knows what he doesn't want to talk about. Enough that he can think about other trains of thought to send them on.

"Two glasses is enough if everyone shares, right?" Jungkook muses thoughtfully, making his way to the back of the train car, wide eyes glancing over the large array of bottles Namjoon has gathered. How Namjoon managed to amass so much, Jungkook isn't sure. Were there so many bottles the first time he visited? Were there this many on the night after Yoongi's fire? "But yeah, we can finish the bunnies tonight if you want, hyung. Mm. But... if we drink too much, it might get a little hard, uh. Making sure that the lines are as clean."

After a pause, Jungkook kneels, setting his own glass down next to Namjoon's. His hyung goes through the different liquors and bottles so quickly that Jungkook can't keep track of them all, with a fluidity that can only come from practice.



NAMJOON "No, no, you said-- I think it's better if... I gotta collect them, right? I gotta get more people over here and, uh, together." Namjoon's voice is quieter and more distracted as he opens bottles, closes them, clanks them clumsily against each other when trying to put them back into place. "...I haven't done my job yet."

Jungkook puts his glass down and Namjoon starts pouring liquor into his as well. How much of which bottle has he used already? He's not sure. How did he make that really tasty one just then? He tries to think but then he hears something behind him... or at least he thinks he does.

It could be anything. It could be the wind, or an echo of a vehicle from a nearby street. It could be any one of the myriad of noises that mingle ambiently in the background of the city. Or it could be his phone.

It's not.

But what if it was?

Namjoon's jaw clenches and a chill runs down his neck. It's not his phone. His phone was off (right?), and it's not the sound his phone would make (or is it?) so if he were to turn around now, he wouldn't see his phone lit up in any way. It isn't

...but what if it was?

He dares a peek over his shoulder once he can't take the guessing anymore, but almost immediately feels a cold liquid being poured on his fingers when he does.

"Ah, fuck." Namjoon wipes his hand on his jeans. "Stupid." He takes a look at the bottle he's holding, a tall, elegant glass container of a glittering green liquid. Part of him is a little horrified he's spilled it, another part of him simply enjoys how it sparkles a little extra nicely right now. He tips the bottle over Jungkook's glass. It's likely he didn't get any, having spilled it. Did Namjoon put any in his own glass? Better drop some in just to make sure.

He draws a breath. He needs to steady his hands. He needs to steady himself. Everything is okay. Or, at least it will be. Two slotted spoons over the glasses, two cubes of sugar, some more drops of absinthe (it's fine), one lighter.

Namjoon leans in against Jungkook as he watches, entranced by the blue flames that dance over their drinks. "It makes me think of rrreally rich and powerful men making something like this in exclusive bars in secret basements years and years and years ago," Namjoon slurs, his attention drifting into the lights, into his imagination. "I wonder if those kinds of people drank black coffee."



JUNGKOOK "Hyung, it's not... your job," Jungkook says quietly, though he's not sure whether or not Namjoon will hear. With the alcohol loosening his lips, Jungkook feels like he's starting to see so much of what Namjoon otherwise keeps hidden, thoughts and machinations that so easily course through his mind. While Jungkook has certainly longed for all seven of their group to be together again, he never intended to shift that burden onto Namjoon - never intended for his hyung to spend time obsessively figuring out how to make it happen. But maybe Jungkook should have noticed that it's what Namjoon's been doing all along. That it's probably part of the reason why Namjoon was so diligent about formulating a plan to break Jimin out of the hospital, why he intervened whenever someone made a suggestion that seemed to put the plan at risk.

Jungkook flinches when Namjoon curses, noticing only a second later that his hyung's spilled a little bit of the bottle. It's a beautiful thing, the green hue bright even through the darkness of their surroundings, only made all the more stunning by the flames that lick at the sugar cubes. Jungkook doesn't know what this process is - not what the liquor is in the bottle, nor whether or not it's common to add sugar this way - but maybe it's fine not to know, because in his ignorance, it all feels a little like magic.

When will he stop being such a child, such a burden for his hyung? Jungkook worries that some day soon, it'll get to be too much again. Wonders how close they're coming to being as needy and insistent as Namjoon's family, in that village far away.

"Ah, so this is - a rare kind of drink?" Jungkook asks, tilting his head at the setup, leaning close to watch the flicker of the flames. They're not as frightening as the ones Jungkook faced a couple of weeks ago. If anything, the blue is calming, cool like the waves of the ocean. "Mm. They probably drank, like... black coffee made from those beans that get pooped out by an elephant." Jungkook snickers lightly. "Because men like that just throw their money everywhere, right? But at least this is - this is really cool, hyung."



NAMJOON "What?" Namjoon snaps his head in Jungkook's direction. "Is that real? Why would that make it more expensive..?"

He sighs and tilts his head to rest against Jungkook's. Though thoughts of his phone still itch at his mind, his body is feeling relaxed and drunk enough to disregard his usual ways of preferring that his dongsaengs leaned on him instead, mentally or physically. "Men like that... yeah, they'll spend money and get something like this just to show off," he murmurs, entranced by the flames that were slowly dimming. "Felt kinda weird to be doing something like this at first, living like, y'know, the way I do. But, I dunno..."

The fire flickers across the top of the liquid once before disappearing. Namjoon's eyes need a moment to readjust to the dim ambient lighting, but his hands waste no time in taking the glasses, holding Jungkook's out towards him.

"I dunno, I think we can make our own luxuries sometimes." Namjoon taps his glass lightly against Jungkook's and takes a long drink. A very long one.

He didn't mean to finish it in one go.

The liquid burns his throat immediately on contact. It's much too strong. Not as delicious as the last one, so there's no need to savour it. It feels acidic and it's painful and he should stop, but the heat that floods him works to ground him in the moment, in the present, and the itching of other thoughts are blurred away for a some seconds.

Should he be worried? Concerned? Especially with what he's using? No, it's strong but it's fine. He's made one stronger than this before, and he's fine.



JUNGKOOK would you be horrified if you saw where I

Jungkook knows well enough that there's a complex type of shame that comes with living in poverty. That no matter how much they had welcomed the visits to Jungkook's home at the time, Namjoon and Hoseok must have felt the burden of being unable to return the favor, especially as his elders. That sometimes, poverty weighs so heavily on Yoongi that he's unable to meet Jungkook's gaze at all, feeling like he's let his boyfriend down. For Jungkook, the notion of freedom always seemed appealing enough to outweigh the drawbacks of poverty, and perhaps deep down, Namjoon feels the same - he's still here, after all, in this train car. Making it his own. But the trade-offs must be there, perhaps more acutely for Namjoon than any of the others. Yoongi still has a father who stepped in to pay hospital bills. Hoseok's jobs and government support got him an apartment.

Namjoon...

"I feel very luxurious sitting here, having this drink with hyung," Jungkook decides, taking the offered glass and tapping it gently. No need to call more attention now to Namjoon's living style when it's already at the forefront of his mind. Instead, Jungkook watches as Namjoon downs the drink all at once, then gives his own drink a brief, wary look. He can't turn this down now. And it's just one more drink, right? Namjoon's probably been drinking since well before Jungkook called him. One drink won't be enough to impair Jungkook entirely; he'll still be able to watch over Namjoon, make sure nothing bad happens over the course of the evening.

So he follows suit, stifling a cough as he pours the drink past his lips. It's spicier than the last, so Jungkook doesn't pause long enough to linger on the taste, instead swallowing until the glass is drained.



NAMJOON Namjoon finishes his drink in time to watch Jungkook drain his, smiling lopsidedly, the burning in his chest painful and pleasant at the same time. And there was something else.

He shouldn't be getting comfort from watching this, probably, but he can't help but feel some sort of relief. Did it feel better to have someone to join him in his irresponsible descent? Even if it was Jungkook? These were questions for a different Namjoon. Tomorrow's Namjoon, perhaps. This Namjoon simply laughs, proudly slapping Jungkook's arm. "You said you haven't snuck into any bars!"

He takes his and Jungkook's glasses. They're glittering more than they should, and Namjoon twists them back and forth in his hands before putting them aside. "Thanks for coming," he nods, his words thick but genuine. "I know sometimes I'm like... I dunno."

There's afterimages, ghosts of lights persisting in his vision, too bright to be pleasantly magical now. He rubs his eyes but almost immediately there's that image again. He's still kneeling, but he sways, trying to find his balance and it comes back, the thought of the train car moving away and away and away from Seoul.

Namjoon snaps his eyes open and swivels around, feeling his heart in his throat. His door is still open, for this very reason. He's not moving. He never was. Why does he keep thinking this?

It's his phone. Some part of him is preoccupied with his phone, laying there innocuously on the desk, and it's making him more anxious than he should. He should just check. He doesn't want to, (she'll be calling, texting, demanding, begging) but he needs this feeling to go away so he can breathe again (she's upset). Is he breathing? (but she doesn't understand, she never does) Is he moving?

(His father understood.)

Namjoon scrambles to his feet, taking quick strides to the desk, trying to keep himself from the verge of hyperventilating. His phone isn't off (he turns it off now) but there's nothing. There had always been nothing. And now that he's taken one step back towards reality, he's aware of how he must look. He's aware of eyes on him (he could be imagining them, but it doesn't matter, there's always eyes on him).

With his back to Jungkook, Namjoon puts one hand out to rest on the surface of the desk, swaying on his feet and sighs. There's so much of him that wants to be a good hyung, and not just when people are watching. He wants to be one, not just appear like one, but that requires paying attention to it every single day. What happens when he can't? What does he do now, when he's unable to even appear that way?

Is it okay to appear as a flawed human in front of Jungkook?

"Ask me what you wanna ask, Kookie."



JUNGKOOK "I haven't!" Jungkook chuckles, letting his body be slightly bowled over by Namjoon's slap, before he swings right back and leans against his hyung. "But Tae... has a way of getting his hands on lots of soju, I don't know. I'm not. I'm not as much of a lightweight as... before."

Sometimes, Jungkook wonders if the little changes add up. He doesn't feel any differently than he did two years ago, still constantly behind the others, still ineffective at bringing them relief. But then there are moments like this, when Jungkook realizes that there are things he does now that he never would have done before. Risks that he takes, experiences that he allows himself. He's just not sure if they're the right ones. If they're helpful, or if they're simply proof of all the doubts that his mother had for his future - that Jungkook would be up to no good, might never amount to anything.

(Why is it so hard for Jungkook to be normal? Everything about his life is set up favorably for it. And yet.)

He blinks when Namjoon suddenly gets up - or was it sudden? Jungkook was lost in his thoughts, lost track of time - and strides across the length of the train car, hunched over his desk. Watches as Namjoon's hands force his phone off, as Namjoon's body sways, and Jungkook blinks a little harder, trying to stave off the dizziness in his own vision. It's - faster than he's used to, how this alcohol hits. Makes his mouth feel dry. Or maybe that's just an excuse for the way the words don't come as easily as they should.

"...do you need to go back?" he asks at last, brow furrowed. That must be it, he thinks. The reason why Namjoon's panicking, the reason why his phone is - off. It can't be the rest of them. All six of them, they're - if not well, then fine. If Namjoon's still worried, it must be something else.



NAMJOON "Yeah."

It's useless to do anything else but say it. Useless and exhausting. He blinks against the flickers of bright white lights in his vision, but resists closing his eyes for too long. How did the train car get so bright, when it was once so dim in here?

"Yeah, I have to but I'm not going."

Everything that reflects even the slightest light is amplified one hundred times, leaving burnt-in trails of what could be sunlight as his eyes roam around the desk, up the wall, get absorbed in the feathers of the wings of a dark, dark bird that spreads itself up and outward and absorbs all the flashing lights within its shadowy form and it keeps spreading outward and the shadow grows and Namjoon is happy for it, wanting to be absorbed in the safety of the dark wings like the lights had been.

But also he keeps swaying and maybe the bird is going to carry him off, too.

Why does everything want to take him away from the one place he wants to be? He's been doing everything for the greater good for a long, long time. Can't he choose? Isn't he allowed to make his own choices now? It's his life, isn't it? Can he live now? Isn't that allowed?

Namjoon has stumbled a few steps backwards, but catches himself midway. There's eyes on him still. "I'm not going or leaving or anything. I'm staying and I know. I know it's horrible and I know it's... If you think it's horrible and that I'm a disgusting hyung, I compl...pletely, definitely understand but I can't." He shakes his head, at the thought, at the train car that wants to travel, at the bird that considers taking him away. "I can't do it again, I can't. I can not."

It's more in his mind than in his actual vision, but there's a sense that the bird, as huge as it's gotten now, leers down at him, it's large, obsidian beak brushing close to Namjoon's face, enough so that he can feel its hot breath. It's testing his resolve, and Namjoon is not afraid of it. He shakes his head again, putting a hand out to touch his friend's beak, this bird that has accompanied him through the entirely of Namjoon's isolation, but his hand passes through nothing. The bird is just there on the wall.

"Fuck, I need a smoke," Namjoon says, snatching a pack of cigarettes off his desk as he heads outside, dropping to the gravel, not considering Jungkook.



JUNGKOOK There was a moment like this, two years ago, Jungkook thinks to himself. When the light that filtered into the room didn't seem to be enough, when the sounds echoed in its emptiness, and Namjoon's shoulders grew heavy, weighted, and small. Last time, Namjoon hadn't been able to put words to what he was experiencing, hadn't been able to give any of them a warning, leaving only songs and lyrics in his wake - and Jungkook decides, it's better this way, that they know Namjoon needs to leave.

But is it better that Namjoon won't? Jungkook imagines: a father in the distance, thin and frail. A mother, harried and frantic. Their faces have always been indistinct - how is it that Jungkook's never met them, he wonders - and so they easily shift into those of his own parents. Deep set wrinkles in the mother, while the father's face is... young, and tired. Jungkook needed Namjoon to be back. Or did he? Maybe Namjoon was the one who needed to be back more than anything, needed to be free of that family, still needs to be free. But no matter how much he needs it, there's no way that Namjoon will ever forget, no matter how deep he is into the bottle - he'll never forget the obligations he's torn himself away from, any more than he forgot the six of their faces when he rode the bus long and far beyond their reach.

"Hyung," Jungkook breathes, regret bitter on his tongue. Namjoon told him to ask. He shouldn't have asked. Namjoon's going to stay. Maybe he shouldn't, Jungkook thinks, and he considers saying take Taehyung with you, because if Namjoon needs to leave, Jungkook isn't sure that he can watch his best friend devolve into that storm, restless and destructive. He isn't sure he can watch that a second time. (But he's not sure that he can cope with Taehyung leaving, either.)

But Namjoon is already gone, each step sonorous with the heavy fall of his gait, the crunch of gravel grating to Jungkook's ears. The sounds replay - words, steps, the raking of stone against stone - repeatedly through Jungkook's mind. He shivers, and the lights shake around him, slow exposure burning through his eyes. Where's his phone? Jungkook's hand gropes around blindly in the dark, feeling only dust and grit under his fingertips. Not here.

With another heavy blink, Jungkook's head starts to tilt forward, brow knit as he glances out the door. The lights fade by the time he hits the floor.



NAMJOON The night air feels good. It feels bigger, wider out here. There's space for Namjoon to move and breathe and exist. He rolls his shoulders. Maybe that's fine, just existing in the quiet corners of the city, emerging when needed, retreating when the world was fine. Maybe it's okay to just exist. Maybe all he needed was to get out of the train car to feel better. He pulls in a long breath and it tastes like the sky and he wonders if he should just sleep outside tonight, wonders if he'll ever return to the confines of his room.

He's more than halfway to the car on the other side of the tracks when he hears the bang, and the sickening way it reverberates. Namjoon spins around, pulling an unlit cigarette from his mouth.

"... Jungkookie?"

He has to squint into the dark void beside his open door until it isn't a dark void anymore, until he can see the features inside his room, until he can see--

"Jungkook." As much as he didn't want to, was planning not to, Namjoon stumbles over the tracks as he rushes back towards his car. His foot catches and he falls to hands and knees, but he doesn't feel the way the stones dig into his skin so he bounces back up and keeps moving.

His knees scrape against the side of the car as he ungracefully clambers back in, but he can't feel that either. He slides across the metal floor to kneel beside Jungkook, wasting no time in rolling him over onto his back. Did he pass out? Did he get hurt? The echo of the noise he heard plays in Namjoon's mind and it makes him feel nauseous for the first time tonight.

"Yah, Kookie." Namjoon's face pales as he tilts Jungkook's face towards him. His eyes are closed.

"Jungkookie, wake up. Yah. Wake up."

He's not waking up.

"No no no no no, Kookie, come on."

He's dead oh my god Jungkook is dead but no, he's breathing, he can feel him breathing but it's shallow and what does he do? What did you do?

Kim Namjoon, what did you do?

Both hands grip at the sides of his head and everything feels like it's tilted sideways. The night is quiet and still but for the heavy sounds of the beating of Namjoon's heart, the loud rush of blood in his ears, a distant high pitched ringing that gets louder and louder and louder and the swaying again and he needs to get out of this train car.

Namjoon scrambles for his phone on the desk before crawling to the door, slipping down to the ground again. He leans, folding his arms over at chest level to rest on the car floor and he doesn't know how long he stands there, looking at Jungkook splayed out on the ground. He can't be inside, but he can't be outside either. He needs to do something. Everything is spinning and bright and clumsy and he can't do anything but he needs to do something.

With ragged breaths, he turns on his phone.

What did you do, Namjoon?



YOONGI By the time Yoongi arrives at the train yard, he feels like he’s going to be sick, stomach twisted into knots from the anxiety flooding through him. From the moment he saw those first texts from Namjoon, he knew something was severely wrong. Jungkook was gone too late, longer than he’d said he would be, and he was with Namjoon and something was wrong.

He should have texted earlier, checked in on him, but he doesn’t want to be like that, the kind of boyfriend who hovers. Jungkook can take care of himself.

Except he can’t, not right now. Not passed out in Namjoon’s container off of fuck only knows.

He tumbles out of the taxi as soon as he’s paid, rushing for the container, and he can barely breathe around the panic. “Calm the fuck down,” he snaps as he makes it to Namjoon’s side, as much to himself as to Namjoon. His heart leaps into his throat in the next instant when he spots Jungkook stretched out on the floor of the car. He pulls himself up into the car, wincing at the pressure on his still-healing arms, to kneel beside Jungkook, shaking him. “Come on, you’re okay. You’re okay. What happened? Joon, how did this happen?”



NAMJOON Wait, wait, wait, it's okay, just wait and it'll be okay.

Namjoon had slunk down to the ground outside of the car after texting Yoongi. Repeated attempts to go inside the train car to do anything useful had only resulted in Jungkook being dragged a little closer to the doorway, and Namjoon in even more of a confused panic because the bird is there, watching and judging, and the container keeps moving and it keeps getting smaller and the sounds of his feet on the metal floor makes him think it's going to collapse in on him.

But it all stops once he's outside. It's him. The container is trying to kill him. Not Jungkook. So it's safer out here. For both of them.

He has his hands over his eyes and his knees up to his chest so he doesn't realise Yoongi was right there until he hears his voice. Namjoon looks up at him with wide eyes, as if surprised he had come at all.

"Hyung." He gets to his feet, leaning against the car to look inside at Yoongi shaking an unresponsive Jungkook. His eyes are stuck wide open and his stomach drops. He's in so much trouble. "I just... I made a drink. It was... it was way too strong, I think."

It hits him, not for the first time though it feels like he's realising it only now, that he made the drink too strong with one particular ingredient he shouldn't have used too much of. It's not just Namjoon that's in trouble. Jungkook is going to be in a lot of trouble. His hands fly to his mouth.

"Oh no, oh no, I fucked it up. He's gonna be... He's..." He takes one step back from the train car, like it'll be easier to breathe that way.



JUNGKOOK The train jolts, and Jungkook stirs, glancing out of the window at the scenery flying by. He's been sitting on this train for... he doesn't remember how long, only that the view from his seat changes every time. A glittering, azure ocean. Snowy mountaintops. He leans slightly forward, eyes fixed on the sharp ravine beneath; the sun reflects off of blankets of pure white, glaring to his eyes but - he can't stop watching, sinking into the peace and tranquility that comes from such distance. Everything is small from up at the top, train tracks snaking between summits.

Another bump in the tracks, and Jungkook frowns, wrinkling his nose as he leans to the side, staring down the line of the car. There's no one else here; the last stop was hours ago, and Jungkook doesn't remember seeing anyone since. Maybe the train's sped up for that reason - they don't realize that there's a passenger still on board, and so they've narrowed their goal to getting to the next destination. It's colder than it was a while ago, too.

He could get up. Walk down the line of the train until he finds someone, ask for a blanket at least. But Jungkook shakes his head, eyes slowly blinking as he leans against the corner of his seat, drawing his arms up around himself and fighting off a shiver.



YOONGI “He’s what?” Yoongi asks, glancing up to glower at Namjoon. Distantly, he’s aware he should probably go easier on his friend, if only because he’s clearly not entirely here, but it barely cuts through the anxiety. It’s a lot easier for the panic to turn into anger than anything gentle. And he has every right to be angry. Namjoon is drunk and useless right now and it’s just pissing him off. Whatever happened here, he’s responsible; he’s the one who made the drink. He should have known better. If anything happens to Jungkook —

Yoongi slips his arms under Jungkook’s limp body, pulling him up to sit as best he can, the angle awkward, the weight of him strange in his unresponsiveness. He hardly knows what to do. All he can think of at first is to reach for Jungkook’s wrist, feeling desperately for a pulse, there but sluggish.

“Finish a fucking sentence,” he snarls, not looking up this time. “Tell me what you did. Fuck, Gguk, come on.” They have to get whatever this is out of his system, but Yoongi has no idea how. Throwing up would do that, but for that to happen, Jungkook has to be awake, and Yoongi is deeply, desperately afraid that isn’t going to happen. He should have called the ambulance. He should have reached out for help instead of being worried he’d get them in trouble. Now he can’t bring himself to let go, clinging to Jungkook and trying to keep the lump from his throat so he can breathe. “Come on, wake up. Open your eyes, please, Gguk, please.”



NAMJOON Huge wings move behind the figures in the darkness of the train car. He watches as the giant, black feathered bird bends over Jungkook's body, gazing down at him, covering him, before twisting its head to stare back at Namjoon with obsidian eyes. Namjoon tilts his head, as he watches it, squinting and mouth agape. What does it mean? What are you trying to tell me?

Yoongi swears at him and Namjoon snaps back to a place somewhere closer to reality. It's not the bird hunched over Jungkook now. It's it's hyung who he needs to explain things to. He freezes for a moment, hands still covering his mouth as he watches in shock. Yoongi is trying to wake Jungkook up and he's not waking up and it's Namjoon's fault.

"It's from..." He lowers his hands away from his face, eyes locked on the scene inside the train car as he talks, the words coming easier, faster the more he does. "It's absinthe from... I took it from my grandmother's. I was just trying to make it good, I just wanted to make one good one because he came over and he didn't have to come over but I spilled it. Fuck. I spilt it, fuck, fuck, no." He rakes his fingers insistently through his hair as the connections are made, not for the first time, though at least now he's verbalising his thoughts. "It was too much, I made it too strong, and I can't, shouldn't, not with that. It's really bad, hyung, this is really bad, he's gonna have dreams and it's really -- oh my god."

Namjoon doesn't know what to do with the sudden adrenaline that mingles with his drunkenness. He begins pacing back and forth in front of the open door. "I don't know how much I put in because I spilled it, oh my god I am so stupid, I'm so fucking stupid, I don't know how much I put in and it can... If there's enough of it, it can..."

From outside, Namjoon looks up towards the shadows in the ceiling of the room, towards the expressionless face of the bird observing them. Are you going to take Jungkook away? Is that what you're saying?



JUNGKOOK There's -

A sound coming from the back of the train. Jungkook frowns, shifting on the seat until he's able to glance around the corner, but the glass window of the compartment is frosted over, obscuring the next car from view. He takes a deep breath, and it's tempting to ignore the noise and go back to the serenity of the mountaintops, the endlessness of the terrain. But slowly, he gets to his feet, tilting his head as he nears the window, smoothing over the glass with the palm of his hand. Doesn't help - the frost is outside. The train continues to rock, back and forth, and Jungkook deliberates for a moment before pressing his palm against the door release.

Immediately, the wind hurtles inside, his eyes squinting against the glare of sunlight and a sharp pain prickling across his face. Through the sting of the blizzard, Jungkook catches a glimpse of movement in the distance - all at once, his heart aches at the sight, and he doesn't know who it is, only that he has to get there, needs to stop before they walk further away -

---

Jungkook's eyes flutter briefly, blinking open before they slide to a close again. He pulls in a couple of deeper breaths before leaning off to the side, hurling onto the floor of the train car.



YOONGI Yoongi is all but ready to set Jungkook down and launch himself out of the container to shake some sense into Namjoon, shaking with anger and fear both. How Namjoon could be so fucking irresponsible as to give Jungkook something so strong, he doesn't understand. Obviously he was already wasted, but that's not an excuse. If anything, if he weren't distracted by other feelings, Yoongi would be bitterly disappointed in Namjoon. Why he expected better when it's not like they didn't both drink when they were younger, too, he doesn't know, but somehow he did.

"Why the fuck would you even give him that?" he asks, voice pitching higher, more frantic. "If you didn't know how much -- what the fuck, Namjoon?" He doesn't know much of anything about absinthe except for having a vague idea it's a hallucinogenic.

Which probably explains a lot about Namjoon's behavior right now. So he's going to be fucking useless, which means Yoongi has to figure out something else.

He's fighting through the panic, trying to figure out his next move, when Jungkook stirs, a relieved breath catching in Yoongi's throat. "Jungkook," he says, voice breaking, "Gguk, good, good. You're okay. You're gonna be fine." Throwing up is a good sign, probably, his body rejecting whatever bullshit Namjoon gave him. If he can get it out of his system, he'll be okay, and Yoongi can start breathing again, even as he's blindsided by another wave of fear. If Jungkook hadn't woken up, because Namjoon gave him too much, because Yoongi was too lost and uncertain -- he doesn't know. He doesn't want to know. He doesn't need to. He reaches out, brushing Jungkook's hair back from his forehead. "It'll be okay."



NAMJOON "It was okay before! He had one before and it was okay! No, two. It's okay if it's not a lot, it's okay if it's just a bit, yknow? It's usually... it's usuallyokay..."

Namjoon stops pacing, tugging at each of his fingers as he looks at the scene inside the car. Should he be inside? Should he be helping? Can he help? Will he fuck it up again? Will the entire container collapse in on him if he enters, crushing all three of them inside? Does the bird even want him in there? No. It wants him to watch.

Yoongi's tone is exactly what Namjoon deserves, but it freezes him. The adrenaline keeps his brain above belligerence just enough for the knowledge of what he might have done to sink in.

"Hyung. Did I kill him?"

When Jungkook comes to life just long enough to vomit, Namjoon feels like all the breath is pulled from him. He falls to a squat, hunched over his knees, hands up around his head. There's relief, but only some. When Namjoon had woken up from his intentionally strong drink, it had felt like absolute hell. It was a different mix than this one, though... and this one wasn't that strong... or was it? He can't know. There's so much Namjoon doesn't know right now and it's completely possible that he's still killed he's still killed him he's still killed Jungkook.

"There's, um," Namjoon says, over his knees in chopped breaths. "There's water... there's bottles under the, the... under the desk. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."



JUNGKOOK Distantly, Jungkook's aware of muffled sounds around him, something warm pressing against his forehead - but what's the most jarring is the light that shines even through his eyelids, glowing red and orange, sparking through his vision. With a soft noise in his throat, Jungkook tries to turn his body away from the light, but something - someone? - holds him back.

He just wants to sleep.

When the hold on him doesn't release, Jungkook goes slack again, body shivering through the cold.



YOONGI Namjoon's frantic apologies and half-finished explanations are really starting to grate on Yoongi's nerves. He can't concentrate, can't think clearly enough to determine what he's supposed to do next. "You didn't kill him," he snaps, though he's not yet convinced of that. He's not about to say anything else, some faint scrap of superstition preventing him from voicing the idea that, if anything happens to Jungkook, he'll kill Namjoon, too, no matter what he said; it's somewhat exaggerated, but he can't put that into the world. He has to believe they'll pull through this or there's nothing left for him.

"Pull yourself together--Gguk?" The body in his arms goes slack again and Yoongi shakes him, afraid to shake too hard, afraid not to. "Come on, no, wake up, wake back up. No, no, no, please--open your eyes, please, I'm right here." He doesn't want to let go, but Namjoon's words strike him belatedly, and he sets Jungkook down carefully, scrambling off for a bottle of water and darting back again. "Come on, come on..."

He pulls Jungkook into his lap again, straining to get him into a somewhat upright position before he opens the water, holding it gingerly, fruitlessly, to Jungkook's lips. It would help if his hands weren't shaking, he thinks, glancing up to scowl at Namjoon. "Shut the fuck up," he snaps. "Stop apologizing and do something useful."



NAMJOON Time is starting to stretch. Or is it compressing? What was the right term for that? Shut up, Namjoon, it doesn't matter. Jungkook isn't dead. You didn't kill him.

... Not yet, at least. At Yoongi's urging, Namjoon carefully returns to his feet, trying to draw long breaths to slow his heart rate, or at least try to help with it being so loud. He should help. Yoongi is rushing around the train car, doing everything with one hand, trying to hold Jungkook with the other, and Namjoon is just standing there. He should help, but...

There's a sense he gets that he won't end up helping, that everything he tries to do will just make things worse. The car wanted to collapse when he was in it, and he doesn't want to kill both of his friends. But Yoongi looks like he's holding himself on the edge of being frantic. He needs help, but, should it be from Namjoon? Should it be from the person who made this mess in the first place? At the question, there's another ruffle of huge, black feathers.

Slowly, carefully, Namjoon puts his hands out to the train car floor, eyes trained upwards into the darkness where he feels like there's a great bird who steps back, making room for him. He nods at it before hoisting himself up, but then pausing, breath just barely under control as he listens for any sounds that suggest the place wasn't structurally sound. With a shaky exhale, he moves across the ground towards Jungkook, propped up on Yoongi's lap. The noises of metallic scraping make him wince in fear, but... Nothing is breaking yet.

"Sorry, um." Namjoon whispers a soft apology as he takes the water bottle from Yoongi. Jungkook should drink, but he needs to be awake to do that. Namjoon tips the bottle over his hand for a second, wetting it while also trying to cup as much as he can hold in his palm while also trying to ignore all the reflections on the surface of it. He presses his hand, and the water, to Jungkook's forehead, letting it run down his face, and gently brushing it down his cheeks, across the skin of his neck.

"Kookie," Namjoon says as he takes more water, repeating the motion. "Hey, I'm sorry, I know you want to, but you can't sleep, okay?" He can feel obsidian eyes over his shoulder. "Kookie, you can't be there right now. We need you back here."



JUNGKOOK The person on the train is getting further, Jungkook can feel it - even as the snow drift whistles against his face, against the windows. He tries to call out, but his voice doesn't work; forms words with his mouth that never find air. It's suffocating, and his lungs burn in contrast with the cold.

---

And then there's - something wet on his cheeks. Tears? Jungkook opens his eyes, finds that he's still on a train, but it's not the same one. No plush seating. Just empty, hollow and ringing with a clattering sound as it hurtles along the tracks.

"Don't go," he says, and his eyes are wide now, his tongue twisting with the taste of something sour, something sweet, and it's too much. Jungkook turns to the side, vomits again, mostly liquid that sears his throat as it comes up.

YOONGI Even as Namjoon helps, Yoongi wants to complain, tell him he’s doing it wrong. He’s too upset with him to admit that it’s a good idea aloud, and it doesn’t help that, angry or not, there’s an undercurrent of gratitude that Namjoon thought of something that hasn’t occurred to him.

Even so, he’s about to stick his fingers in Jungkook’s mouth to try and get him to throw up again when Jungkook opens his eyes and does it himself. It takes Yoongi a moment to decipher what he’s said, and then his expression softens, still edged with panic. “We’re not,” he says, smoothing a hand down Jungkook’s back, trying to soothe him. “I’m not, I’m here. Don’t go. Stay with me.” He seems a little more awake this time, but Yoongi’s not convinced he won’t just fade back out of consciousness again, and he pulls him close. “Deep breaths. You’re okay. Please.” He’s nearly forgotten Namjoon is even there, all his focus on Jungkook and keeping him awake. “I’m not going anywhere.”



NAMJOON Namjoon inhales sharply when it works, and immediately slides a few feet away from them, both to give them space, and to simply retreat. His breaths come in a chopped, staggered pace. Jungkook's awake now, but what if he died, Namjoon?

He's forgotten about the water bottle still clutched in one hand, he pulls his fists in towards his chest, feeling the rapid thumping of his heart against his fingers. He leans back against the desk leg, but in his mind he's resting against warm, dark feathers, as if he could retreat far enough to hide within them, as if he could take up less space in the world if he did.

Namjoon can't form words, and he doesn't want to. Adrenaline subsiding, he feels drained, off balance, unsteady, the air feels thick like water. The best thing he can do now is to stay out of the way.



JUNGKOOK Everything feels bright and dark all at once, a confusing mess of shadows and light that won't stop moving, and Jungkook wrinkles his nose as he tries to focus on the person in front of him. There's a deep familiarity in the way he's being cradled, in the soft, low timbre of the voice, and Jungkook blinks a few times before it finally registers that Yoongi is with him. Yoongi is with him? Yoongi was - gone for so long - this isn't where Jungkook would expect him to be - and only minutes later do the words sink in. He's not going anywhere. Wasn't he going somewhere? Jungkook curls one hand in Yoongi's shirt, not enough strength in his fingers to do much more than claw at the fabric, and Jungkook swears that there was someone leaving, someone about to go.

"Where's hyung?" he whispers, squinting before he squeezes his eyes shut again. The lights keep dancing, and even their reflection on Yoongi's skin is too much. "Yoongi - hyung said he wouldn't... are we moving? Feels like we're moving. Are we going back? To hyung's family?"



YOONGI Every word out of Jungkook’s mouth is a relief. What he’s saying, addled as it is, matters less than the fact that he’s speaking. He’s going to be okay, he has to be. Tears well in Yoongi’s eyes and he blinks hard to clear them, refusing to let himself cry now. Jungkook is awake, he’s somewhat alert, but that doesn’t mean he’s entirely out of the woods yet.

“He’s right over there,” he says, swaying slightly, hoping to soothe Jungkook. He glances over at Namjoon and, finally, wonders if he’s going to be okay. He’s clearly shaken. Good, Yoongi thinks. He should be. It’s the only way to ensure he never does this again, if he remembers this at all.

Yoongi will make sure he remembers.

“He’s right there. We’re not going anywhere. We’re not moving.”



NAMJOON Namjoon's mouth twists before he covers it with one hand, feeling his throat tighten as Jungkook speaks. Jungkook was still worried about him. He shouldn't be. No one should be. Namjoon doesn't realise he's crying until quiet, heavy tears hit his fingers.

He feels a nudging against his back, a large, black beak encouraging him towards the others. Namjoon wipes his eyes and moves forward, feeling every bend and shift in the train car so vividly, and it finally occurs to him why he's been thinking the car was moving.

Part of him wants to embrace Jungkook, but it's overwhelmed with fear and remorse. Yoongi has Jungkook. Yoongi will be able to take care of him far better than Namjoon, anyway. He shouldn't interfere with that. He puts the (now a little crushed) bottle of water down beside Yoongi before pulling his arm back, quickly as if he was in the way, or as if Yoongi would reach out for him.

"The car keeps moving," Namjoon says quietly, eyes lowered. "Like, it's shifting around when we move so it's confusing. We should get out." Gingerly, he reaches out for Jungkook's hand, holding it softly for a second before he retreats again.

"It's your stop, Kookie."



JUNGKOOK They're not moving, Yoongi says - but Namjoon's words imply the opposite. So Jungkook's left trusting his own senses. He tries his best to open his eyes again, squinting to block out the light, but it's sparkling around Yoongi's eyes. He raises a hand, and it's clumsier than it should be, stiff and cold and Yoongi's face is so warm, so warm that Jungkook's breath pulls in sharply. Warm, and bright around the eyes. Is Yoongi crying?

Why would Yoongi be crying?

"Shh, it's okay," Jungkook whispers to Yoongi, though his brows remain furrowed in confusion. He lowers his hand, too much effort to keep it aloft, and glances over when someone else reaches for it, skin warm and dry as it slides under his own. Oh, right. If Yoongi's crying, and the train's moving, and Namjoon said he had to go - he did, right? Jungkook isn't imagining that. His eyes rove as they scan the space beyond Namjoon. There are other train cars, and Jungkook thinks they must be moving too, trains passing in the night. This is his stop?

"No, I'm not gonna - hyung, if you have to go, you don't have to go alone," Jungkook insists. He thinks that this is what he'd wanted to say, before the train rocked and the sour taste rose in the back of his mouth. He remembers Namjoon hunched over a desk, his family needs him, but there's always been another option and Jungkook isn't sure why Namjoon hasn't seen it. "We'll come with - you gotta bring Tae. Taehyung. Right?" He glances over at Yoongi for... approval? Agreement? Jungkook isn't sure which. "If hyung has to go, why can't we all go? Like... I was gonna go. With you. Back then."



YOONGI “I’m sorry,” Yoongi mumbles, automatic at the reminder. It’s on the tip of his tongue to say I should have brought you with me, though he’s never let himself admit that out loud, not in so many words. It’s hard not to wonder, if he had, if they’d still be where they are now, broken and lost, Yoongi still healing, Jungkook delirious on the floor of a train car going nowhere. Hard not to think that, in the end, all fault traces back to him.

“We’ll go wherever,” he agrees. Jungkook clearly isn’t altogether here, any more than Namjoon is. Humoring him can’t hurt. Better to keep him talking and alert, saying anything it takes to prevent him from closing his eyes and fading away. Yoongi reaches for Jungkook’s hand, leaning forward to kiss his head. For a moment, he lingers, bent over Jungkook, hiding his face in his hair.

“Anywhere you want. Tae, too, sure.” He glances to Namjoon. “Where are you going?” It’s the first he’s heard of Namjoon leaving again, but at least he has a solid excuse to do so.



NAMJOON Namjoon has to take a long inhale, head bowing at Jungkook's words. He never considered anyone coming with him as an option. The cottage in the country felt like his own personal purgatory, and why would he put any of his friends through that? What good could come from showing them how desolate his family life was? How would it be better if they saw how difficult everything was for them? Is it shame that urges him to keep all of his poverty and hardships away from his friends, or is it something else?

Namjoon's head sways. A noise against the ceiling draws his gaze up, towards the dark eyes of a dark bird that has gotten so big, he doesn't know how it hasn't burst through the roof yet. Its head is twisted downward to look at him, but its wings are spread to each side as if... as if this was the reason the car hadn't collapsed yet. The bird had been holding it up.

Rubbing his eyes with both hands, he gets the sense that the car is moving again, but - no. It's not. It's not moving because he's not leaving. It doesn't matter how it would work, bringing anyone out there, or what they'd think. It doesn't matter because he's not leaving.

"I'm not going anywhere," he states firmly to Yoongi before daring to look at Jungkook. "I told him -- I told you. I'm not going anywhere. You don't have to come with and Taehyung doesn't have to come with because I'm not going." He looks out the doorway and it's all just abandoned train cars in an abandoned place and it's not moving.

Swinging his legs around, he drops to the ground outside once more, feeling some anxiety leave him in the open air, his feet on something relatively solid. He turns to look back at the others in the car, leaning against it for balance and frowning. "I'm getting off here and I'm staying here, so don't even think about -- don't even worry about... I'm staying."



JUNGKOOK Yoongi apologizes, and Jungkook nearly grimaces, shaking his head vigorously before he has to lean against Yoongi to keep his balance. He's not here for apologies. Too many of those have been given already, he thinks - so many sorrys that echo in his head this very instant, coming from all of his hyungs. Yoongi's voice, Namjoon's, Jimin's, Seokjin's. Jungkook doesn't need their apologies. It's never been about doling out forgiveness; Jungkook understands why each one of them left, pulled by something beyond their control. Family. Health.

The voices that linger in their mind.

Jungkook's hand reaches for Yoongi's wrist, half a mind to pull it away, but there's soft, warm breath in his hair and Jungkook won't, he won't push Yoongi away, he's never pushed any of his hyungs away (just don't remember that time you hit him, Jungkook, you hit him enough to see red). He pulls in a shaky breath, glancing briefly at Yoongi's face, still swimming in his vision as Jungkook tries to sit up with his own strength. He doesn't feel weak, not anymore - only unmoored as the train still seems to rattle underneath him, as it hurtles down along the tracks. Namjoon says he's not going to go - Namjoon already went, he's no longer in the train car - and Jungkook knows that they need to follow him.

"Hyung..." Jungkook calls out, gripping Yoongi's hand as he slides forward just a touch. His head feels heavy; it tilts forward, then back. "You're not horrible. You're not. Okay?" With a shaky breath, Jungkook turns to look at Yoongi again, eyes narrowed to avoid the glaring streetlights. "I feel - really dizzy. I had too much, Min-ah, I'm sorry."



YOONGI All Yoongi wants is to stop Jungkook from moving, to keep him held close. He’s afraid, yes, worried that Jungkook isn’t ready to exert himself in any way yet, but it’s selfish, too, he knows, not wanting to let go. He can’t just hang on when Jungkook wants something else. Still, he’s grateful Jungkook doesn’t move much, despite clearly wanting to get closer to Namjoon.

Always, no matter what’s happened to him, his heart is so kind, more than Yoongi’s has ever been.

“Don’t apologize,” he says, quiet. As much as he’d like to go off on Namjoon right now, raised voices won’t help anyone. “He gave you too much. You didn’t do anything wrong. Just lean into me. It’s okay. You just need to rest a little.” At this point, with Jungkook more alert, he has to hope that all they have to do is wait for the alcohol’s effects to pass. He squeezes Jungkook’s hand, a little more confident now that things will be okay after all.



NAMJOON Jungkook would say that. Jungkook would have never agreed with any of Namjoon's self deprecation, and he doesn't know why he expected anything else. Namjoon locks eyes with Jungkook as he speaks, but doesn't react to his words. Everything is still bright and surreal and it's still just hitting him that Jungkook is alive to say anything to him at all.

The bird bends over to eye him closely, now unburdened by the bending roof and free to inspect the occupants, as if it was curious as to how Jungkook wasn't dead.

He leans against the open door of the train car, forehead pressed against the cold metal. All energy feels like it's draining out of him now that he finally has his breathing under control and Namjoon is so tired - though only physically. His mind still races in sideways directions, and he's still disoriented by everything that's coming up, but he knows one thing quite clearly: He did give Jungkook too much.

"It was an accident," he croaks, "But, I knew I did something wrong. I just... I thought it'd be fine. I'd done it before and it was fine. And he'd had some before and it was fine." He can't stop rubbing his eyes. "Are you gonna stay here or... or should you go?"



JUNGKOOK When Yoongi suggests that Jungkook should lean on him for support, Jungkook readily complies, even though the feeling of leaning his weight against Yoongi doesn't seem to immediately relieve the sense of moving and spinning, nor the brightness of the lights outside. Still, Jungkook feels clear-headed enough to know that he should listen, so he slowly blinks, trying to strike a balance between resting his eyes (but then the train moves too much) and anchoring himself in the train yard (it's bright in a different way than daytime is, like a fire rising over the tracks).

"I told him I'd be okay... I thought, I've had - with Tae - a lot before. Hyung didn't know," Jungkook insists, shaking his head and brielfy nuzzling against Yoongi's sleeve, taking a deeper breath to try and clear his head. (It feels not quite like fog - smoke?) "Hyung, it's okay, I'm fine. I should've. I should've drank slower."

Jungkook opens his eyes, frowning as he stares in Namjoon's direction, watching those hands rub against his eyes over and over. "You shouldn't be alone, hyung," Jungkook says quietly, before glancing back into the depths of the car. It's less bright in there, and easier on his own eyes. But Namjoon's not okay. Something about being in this train car makes him not okay. "Hyung can come back home with us?" He looks up, searching for Yoongi's gaze. "Right?"



YOONGI Yoongi hesitates, glancing between them. As much as he hates to admit it, Jungkook has a point, one that cuts briefly through his anger. Namjoon probably shouldn’t be alone right now. He’s clearly not in his right mind either, and Yoongi knows what he would do if their roles were reversed. Left to his own devices, he’d just drink more. And if Namjoon does that and anything happens to him, that’s on Yoongi.

“Right,” he sighs. “Come back with us. Stay the night.” It’s hard to deny Jungkook much of anything anyway. Besides, if he did, Jungkook might insist on staying instead, and Yoongi isn’t going to let that happen. He rests his head against Jungkook’s, focusing on trying to tamp down on the fury still burning inside him. Jungkook is okay. Getting into a fight now won’t accomplish anything. Better just to go home.



NAMJOON "No." Namjoon shakes his head when Jungkook suggests it, and even more when Yoongi agrees. "No, no, I shouldn't--" I shouldn't be around you. I shouldn't get in the way. I shouldn't make things worse.

Still leaning on the door, Namjoon crosses his arms around his chest in an attempt to feel somewhat balanced. There was a lot going on in his body and mind, mingling thoughts and images and things that were there and might not be there blending together, but one thing was constant. He fucked up. He can't look at Jungkook without wondering if he could have really died, and he knows he's not hallucinating Yoongi's anger towards him, either. He doesn't know what the alternative is for him tonight, but he doesn't think he'll be able to take generosity from the two people he's very much wronged.

"I'll be okay. I will. I just gotta sleep." He finally opens his eyes, only the alcohol lingering in his system gives him the confidence to make eye contact with Yoongi. "You should take him. Make sure he's okay."



JUNGKOOK Namjoon refuses to come. Even under the haze of alcohol, Jungkook finds himself clear-minded enough to feel the sharp disappointment, heaving a sigh as he leans his head against Yoongi's chest. His gaze still remains on Namjoon, brow furrowed as he tries to make the pieces fit. Namjoon won't come, probably because Jungkook's already failed to keep his alcohol down, failed to be the capable adult that he came here to be. Failed to be the support that Namjoon needs, pulled between his families as he is - his inherited and his chosen, each too demanding to accommodate the other.

"I'm fine," Jungkook insists, even as his head swims and his voice echoes against the walls of the train car. Off to the side, he hears something of a flutter, pays it no mind. His eyes are welling up with tears of frustration, empathy - Jungkook's not sure which. Briefly, Jungkook buries his face against Yoongi's neck, breathing in deeply, trying to orient himself. He's fine. He'll be fine. Even if he wasn't fine before, he will be now, largely thanks to Yoongi, and-

Jungkook blinks, turns to look at Namjoon. "At least call Tae? Tae can come." Jungkook pauses, then shakes his head. "You shouldn't be alone, hyung." He turns to look at the glittering assortment of bottles, some of them menacing in the faint light. No one should be alone with those, Jungkook thinks to himself.



YOONGI It comes as a faint relief when Namjoon declines, one Yoongi is hard-pressed to hide. He’d do it, take them both home, if it would keep Namjoon safe and reassure Jungkook. But he has a feeling he’ll have his hands full even with Jungkook alone tonight and, in any case, he needs some time, some distance from Namjoon if he’s going to talk to him without trying to strangle him.

“We can call Tae,” he agrees. “You should have someone here.” Someone needs to make sure that Namjoon is okay, and while Tae may not always seem like the most responsible member of his group, Yoongi knows he’d never let any harm come to Namjoon. Still, he feels a duty himself to make at least one more token try. “Or just come with us. Seriously, it’s fine.”

He’s always been fine when he got into this kind of a mood, surrounded by bottles. He always just slept it off, too. But it feels different when it’s someone else, when it’s a friend, even one he’s pissed at.



NAMJOON Mention of Taehyung makes Namjoon still. He had already had Taehyung over, the night before, for this same reason. His stomach flips nervously. He's still not sure if his behaviour was okay, then. But, then, it's his overall behaviour that's the problem.

Namjoon hears the shuffling of wings and wonders if this feeling is similar to what Jungkook feels when they all stand around and over him, concerned, not believing that he can walk on his own, or not wanting to - though the strain in Yoongi's voice reminds him of why. He swallows a hard lump of guilt in his throat, so it can find a place to settle within him, along with the rest.

"I'll call someone." He presses a hand to the cold surface of the train car door, peeling himself away from it and testing his own balance. "I will. I promise." Weariness and a little nausea begin to set in, and, though he can't fault their concern, Namjoon isn't sure what exactly his friends think he's going to do - he's surely not going anywhere near the bottle he almost used to kill Jungkook. "Really, I will. I'll be okay. I honestly just want to sit. And do nothing. Just..."

Jungkook's eyes are full of feelings Namjoon would be able to define on another day. For now, the definitions are stripped away and he can only feel how it brings a pang of shame, and a lingering remorse. His eyes drop to his hands. His hands rub his eyes again. "Just get him out of here," Away from me. "Make sure he's okay."



JUNGKOOK A sense of failure settles deep in Jungkook's chest as he rocks back and forth - or perhaps it's the train rocking back and forth, no matter what they say about it standing still. He came to check on his hyung, to offer Namjoon his support, and all that he has to show for it is vomiting on Namjoon's floor and Yoongi hovering over him, stressed and concerned. It's hard not to wonder if it would have been better for Jungkook not to come at all, and the thought has him staring to the side for a moment, not meeting either of the other boys' eyes. Just staring at the tracks, willing them to be still.

If Jungkook comes back here tomorrow, will Namjoon still be here? Alive?

When did it become necessary to ask himself that kind of question?

But Jungkook knows when a door's been shut on him. The words hurt - just get him out of here - and Jungkook has to fight off the tightness in his throat as he squeezes Yoongi's hand. "I'm sorry," he says to no one in particular, before starting to slide himself forward, free hand pressed firmly against the car floor to stabilize himself.



YOONGI “You don’t have to be sorry,” Yoongi insists. He slips out of the car, hopping down and offering a hand to Jungkook in case he needs help getting out. It’s not like he can fault anyone for drinking, some part of him aware of how completely fucking hypocritical that would be, and if Jungkook wanted to have a drink with his hyung, that’s not Yoongi’s to be upset over. He doesn’t want apologies when he’s just thankful Jungkook’s still alive.

The thought makes him uncomfortable, not wanting to look at it too closely now that the threat has largely passed. He can’t think about it now, doesn’t want to consider what would have become of him if he’d lost Jungkook.

“I’ll take care of him,” he assures Namjoon, now that they’re all outside the car. “You take care of yourself.” In spite of all that’s happened, he trusts that Namjoon means what he says about just wanting to sit and do nothing. If they leave him here, he’ll be fine. And Yoongi will deal with him later. “Just get some sleep or something.”



NAMJOON Namjoon nods at Yoongi's words, a similar sense of failure coming to rest in his mind now that all the events of the night have been given time to settle, and settle further. It's all something he'll have to sit with, for now. There was going to be no way out of these memories tonight.

He waits for them both to exit the train car before approaching Jungkook, one hand flying out to hold the side of his face, allowing himself to appreciate all of his friend's (alive) features before pulling him in for an almost desperate embrace. Namjoon squeezes his eyes shut tightly, squeezes Jungkook tighter. He should say something reassuring now, but no reassuring words come to mind. For a moment, no words come to mind at all, until he whispers, low and genuine: "Thank you."

For coming over in the first place? For not dying? For being alive? For existing at all? Namjoon doesn't know for what exactly he's thanking Jungkook for, only that he has a feeling of deep gratitude, and no real way to express it under these circumstances.

Once he releases Jungkook, he takes several steps back, relinquishing him to Yoongi's care, because Namjoon wasn't - and wouldn't be - able to. It's best like this, for him to step back, to not get in the way. Jungkook will be safer this way, if Namjoon takes even a few more steps back.

"Hyung," he calls out with as much strength as he can muster after a pause and a few more feet of distance between them. "I'm sorry."



JUNGKOOK Jungkook exhales as soon as Namjoon's arms are wrapped around him. They've embraced countless times over the years, but Jungkook finds that there are a few that stand out in his memory - times when either of them felt unmoored, times when both of them were at peace. This time, Jungkook thinks to himself, is going to be another that he'll remember, even with his mind swimming as it is now. The sound of Namjoon's voice, low and rough, as it hits the shell of his ear. Jungkook takes a staggered breath, burying his nose against Namjoon's shoulder, and he still wishes that those broad shoulders didn't have to hold so much.

But he can't deny the comfort that comes from simply having those arms wrapped around him.

"Love you, hyung," Jungkook says, and his voice cracks but he doesn't quite cry, because he's not sure he'll be able to stop if he starts now. Reluctantly, he releases Namjoon's jacket, swaying a little until he's able to wrap an arm around Yoongi's waist, trying not to rely on him too much. Trying to stand on his own two feet.

The embrace helps, the warmth of it seeming to linger even seconds after Namjoon's stepped away. Maybe things will be okay. Maybe what happened tonight will just be another memory that holds them together. Jungkook glances briefly up at the sky, and maybe it's just the liquor coursing through his system, but he swears he can see the stars.



YOONGI Yoongi drapes an arm over Jungkook's shoulder, letting him lean however much weight on him he needs to. For the most part, though, Jungkook seems to be standing alright on his own, and Yoongi takes comfort in that. He's unsteady, but he's going to be fine.

The hard part of this is knowing what to say to Namjoon. An apology isn't enough, but there's also nothing more he can ask for, and beating him up for what's happened, physically or emotionally, isn't going to help. Not right now, anyway. After a moment, he just nods. "Yeah," he says. You should be. For once, Yoongi isn't even mad at himself, doesn't actually see a way this one could be his fault. Jungkook is his boyfriend, not his ward; it's not up to him to police where Jungkook goes or what he drinks or who he drinks it with when. At most, he could have checked in earlier, but why would he have needed to? He always thought Namjoon was safe. And he knows, in spite of his own desire to stay safe in his anger, that Namjoon would never have done anything to hurt Jungkook on purpose. It was just a stupid accident, even if he should have known better. "I know you are. Come on, Gguk, let's go home, okay?"



NAMJOON Namjoon watches the two of them walk away for a few moments before he pulls out a loose cigarette from his pocket. Putting it to his lips reminds him of a sickening, reverberating bang from off the train car floor...

He sighs and lights it, though he notices his hands have begun to jitter; tiny spasms in his fingers indicating that his body, without real, non-alcoholic nourishment, is having difficulty keeping himself together. He can feel it beginning in his legs now, too. Namjoon exhales smoke that obscures the small figures in the distance. When it clears, they're gone.

Jungkook would tell him to take care of himself.

But it's so easy not to.

He leans against the train car, looking inside now that it was empty - or, mostly. The bird is not as huge now, and its form obscured mostly by darkness, but he can still see its eyes, piercing through any attempt at a confident mask he puts on, like it always did. He blows smoke at it as well. It doesn't go away. Fine. It can stay there. He'll have to clean his floor, he thinks, leaving the bird to its devices, but he can feel the weakness in his muscles and another strained sigh escapes. Everything always has to be difficult.

But that's when he spots a white plastic bag, like one from a convenience store, and a memory slides into place. It's thankfully within arm's reach (he's not sure if he can be inside just yet) and Namjoon peers in at the things Jungkook had brought him with a mixture of guilt and relief. He turns his head in the direction he and Yoongi had left. They were gone. He should eat.

Namjoon had also promised he'd call someone, and he frowns as he sits down on the gravel, resting his back against a train wheel and placing the box of kimbap on his lap. His thoughts are still disjointed, twisted with guilt, and running through his friends in his mind, weighing the good and bad for calling each one... he doesn't know. Everything feels like a nebula - it's a mess. It's going to be hard enough to face Yoongi and Jungkook later. It's going to be hard enough to talk to Taehyung about the last two days. Does he want to add another complication to the list?

Namjoon puts out his cigarette on the ground beside him, staring at the names in his phone for a long while. Logic is difficult to form right now, so he goes with his feelings, pressing the only name his guts feel comfortable enough to call, comfortable enough to burden.

"Hey. Yeah, it's me. Are you busy, or... No. No, no God, no, I don't want to talk or think about any of that. No. I just, uh. Tonight's been kinda... Yeah, I'm fine. Uh, wait, no, actually. Ugh, I should just tell you... Just, uh. Is it okay if I just hang out for a bit? ...yeah. Okay. Thanks, Bo."


CODE BY TESSISAMESS