A Helping Hand | MYG & KTH

36 ~ Fault

It's the middle of the night before I groaning and begrudgingly dragging my body up off my ass in the now trashed studio where I've been sat since Yoongi left the room earlier. I know he was hurt by me all but kicking him out, but it was for the best for the both of us, knowing that I've not been in the right state mentally since Taeju fucked everything up.

I hang my head once I'm up on my feet, not wanting to look at the damage my emotions have created, reluctantly grabbing my phone from the couch in here and trudging my way out of the studio and over towards the stairs. I need to actually talk things out with my brother and see if I can't try to salvage things with him, see if I can keep this band from falling apart all over again. It won't be an easy feat and it'll be far more painful than the first round, and this conversation is going to damn near kill me, but I know I need to do this. Even if he never wants to see me again, I can't just let him and his band go to hell now. Not when we were so close to being good to go.

I can feel my body slowly begin to tremble as I make my way up the stairs, terrified for how this conversation is going to go. I nearly feel like a little kid all over again, as though I'm willingly giving myself up for hell in hopes of getting something out of it, and by the time I'm in front of his bedroom door, I can hardly breathe.

Biting my lip nervously, I reach up and knock lightly on the door. There's part of me that doesn't want to wake the others, but the other part of me couldn't care less, knowing this whole ordeal will have to get sorted out with everyone eventually. I don't hear him shift within his room when I knock though, and I sigh, knocking harder in hopes of getting his attention. He was never a light sleeper for the same reason I'm not, and the fact that he's not even responsive to my knock scares me.

Growing anxious, I finally give in and reach for the handle to just let myself in. My body goes cold at the fact that it's locked though, beginning to bang on the door as hard as I can. There's doors opening all around me, grumbling being heard, but I no longer care, worried for what the hell is going on.

"Tae, open up! Taehyung!" I shout, slamming my fist against the door as hard as I possibly can. I glance over in Jimin's direction, knowing he's been in the room right beside my brother's all this time, finding him just as worried as me.

"Tae, never locks his door, Jae." Jimin whispers, tears in his eyes. It's enough to send me into overdrive though, shouting for my brother at the top of my lungs as I take a step back, swinging my foot at the door handle and slamming my heel down over it until it finally breaks loose. I don't hesitate in kicking the door open before rushing inside, horrified to find his bathroom door open but not a single sound coming from anywhere. I rush in the direction of his bathroom, the air in my lungs being stolen by the sight of my brother lying bloodied on the floor.

My mind goes on autopilot as I hurry to scoop him up into my arms, running through the crowd of boys with me as I rush to get us outside and into my car, not bothering to slow enough to slip shoes on. I toss him into the passenger seat of my car haphazardly, running back inside only enough to grab my keys from the coffee table in the living room before running back out and jumping in the car. I don't bother waiting for the other boys, don't bother with seatbelts, just throwing my car into reverse before peeling out of the drive and heading towards the nearest hospital.

"Come on, Tae. Come on damn it. You can't do this. You can't do this to me. Not now. Not now after everything. I'm not burying you early too damn it. You can't do this." I mutter out in a daze, not hesitating to pull up to the emergency entrance. I hardly have enough wits about myself to properly throw the vehicle into park before climbing out, hurrying to get to my brother and get him out of the car and carrying him into the hospital.

"Help! Please! He needs help!" I scream as soon as I'm inside, not having a clue where to go other than further inside. It's seconds later when there's people rushing my way, hurrying to get him out of my hold and onto a bed before they're rolling him away. All I can do is stand there staring in the direction of where I imagine the operating room is, shaking violently as I soon snap out of it and yank my phone out of my pocket.