Beyond Repair (Min Yoongi) [UPDATED]

28. Follow The Leader

Namjoon didn't know what to do with himself.

He was the leader, damn it, and it was his job to make things right. As much as the others tried to help, the burden of maintaining the group's collective sanity was—and always had been—ultimately Namjoon's to bear. Between taking charge of anything and everything work-related and ensuring everyone was taking care of their health despite their busy schedules, he was the motor oil that kept the machine running smoothly. It was a responsibility he'd gladly accepted all those years ago when he'd first become the band leader, even before their debut, and one he had proudly upheld throughout the years.

He wasn't the head of the household. Not anymore, at least. Not since they'd become seven. Once they'd all settled into their dynamic, Seokjin, Yoongi, and Hoseok made sure everything went as it should at home. Namjoon was merely their assistant when it came to piecing broken hearts back together and mending strained relationships. But with Yoongi having been out of commission for over a year and with Hoseok not having spoken a word since they'd seen what Lee was doing in that half-finished office building, Namjoon knew Seokjin couldn't shoulder that weight alone. Hell, he was pretty sure Seokjin was barely keeping himself together, as it was. Thus, Namjoon had to step up and do his job as the group leader in both the public and private areas of their lives, no matter how unfamiliar and uncomfortable this territory was for him.

But now, for the first time he could remember, Namjoon had no idea what to do.

There was nothing he could do, really—for the second time in four days, Yoongi was undergoing a surgery from which he might never awaken, and Namjoon and the others were just sitting around a hospital room, helplessly waiting for good news that may never come. Namjoon had looked it up as soon as the nurse left and his heart had plummeted when he read that septic shock had between a thirty-percent and fifty-percent mortality rate. The odds weren't exactly in Yoongi's favor.

No one had said a word in well over an hour, but then again, Namjoon thought, there was nothing tosay. What could anyonesay to make the unknown any less terrifying?

A long time after Yoongi was rushed into surgery—to Namjoon's knowledge, no one had bothered to check how long it had been—Namjoon's phone rang. It was on vibrate, but even that small sound seemed to echo through the silent room, making nearly everyone startle. When Namjoon looked at the caller ID, his stomach churned.

It was Yoongi's father.

Namjoon was half-tempted to reject the call or just let it ring to voicemail, but he couldn't do that to Yoongi's family.

He closed his eyes. "Hello?" he answered, his voice cracking with either emotion or disuse. Probably both. He cleared his throat and tried again, relieved when his voice came out steadier the second time.

"Namjoon," Yoongi's father said, "we just arrived at the train station. Which hospital is it?"

"Oh. Um, I don't..." Namjoon opened his eyes, looked around at his members, lowered the phone, and heaved a sigh. He put the phone back up to his ear and said, "One minute, I have to check." He stood from his seat, swaying on his feet, and he wondered for half a second why he was so lightheaded before remembering that he hadn't had anything to eat in days.

But his own needs could wait.

He made his way out of Yoongi's room and only stumbled a little on his way down the hall. He stopped in front of a reception desk, cleared his throat to announce his presence, and waited for the busy receptionist to look up at him.

"May I help you?" she asked when she was done typing.

"I have a...really stupid question," Namjoon admitted, though any embarrassment he might have felt couldn't have been further from his mind. He didn't really care about how much the secretary must have been judging him from the instant he opened his mouth. To his own ears, he just sounded tired.