I Told You, I'm A Monster

Chapter Three

Seokjin drives straight home, focusing intently on the process of driving. Keeping to the speed limit, using his turn signal correctly, stopping at red lights, only accelerating when necessary. The process calms him down on the surface, but his subconscious is still in turmoil. He arrives back at the house he shares with his best friend, Min Yoongi, and parks in the garage before turning the car off and getting out of it. The simplicity of these mundane tasks helps him get his mind off of what had happened that morning.

When he walks in the back door, he hears the telltale sign of Yoongi being home: A slow, driving, rhythmic, bass-heavy beat reverberating throughout the house interspersed with Yoongi's aggressive voice rapping passionately into his microphone. Seokjin paces up and down the hallway between his room and Yoongi's studio, debating whether he should tell his friend what happened. His decision is made for him when the music ends and the door to the studio opens.

"Are you going to keep pacing like that, or are you going to tell me what's up with you, hyung?" Yoongi squints and steps closer to Seokjin. "What happened to your neck?"

Seokjin sighs, knowing his friend won't give up until he finds out what happened. "Well, do you have time? It's kind of a long story."

Yoongi glances at his watch and nods. "Yeah, I need a break anyway. We can talk in the kitchen over coffee." Seokjin nods and the two walk to the kitchen, and the older immediately launches into the story. He tells Yoongi everything, from volunteering to be Namjoon's doctor, to what he read in his chart, to what happened when he was in Namjoon's room. As he's speaking, Yoongi sits slowly down in a chair at the table, his face registering total shock. When Seokjin finishes his story, the two men sit in silence for a long few moments, the only sounds the low hum of the air conditioner and the ticking of the clock. Finally, Yoongi speaks. "Holy shit."

"I don't know what to do. How am I supposed to go back and face him?"

"Hyung, I think we both know what you're going to do. You're going to go back in the morning, talk to Namjoon again, and find a way to get through to him. You're going to be patient and kind about it, because that's the kind of man you are. And don't argue with me, because we both know it's true." Yoongi punctuates his point by taking a sip from his mug.

"Why do you always have to be right, Yoongi-yah?" Seokjin rolls his eyes affectionately and subconsciously rubs his neck. "What do I do if he tries to choke me again, though? Or worse?" He feels panic setting in again, and Yoongi senses it and places his hands firmly on the older's shoulders.

"If you're afraid of that, see if they can put him in a straitjacket before you talk to him, or get a syringe of sedative to keep on you. Seokjin-hyung, you're a smart man. I know you can do this."

Seokjin's mind calms exponentially feeling the younger's hands on his shoulders. He takes a deep breath and nods slowly, even letting a small smile turn up the corners of his mouth. "This is why you're my best friend. You keep me grounded."

Yoongi chuckles. "It's still pretty early in the day. Why don't you go research some more about his conditions and see if you can try to understand him. I'm on a deadline, so I have to finish recording my demo."

"Ah, I'm sorry to keep you. Thank you, Yoongi-yah. Research calms me. How did I not think of that before?"

Yoongi chuckles as he stands from his seat and places his empty mug in the sink. "Because you were too panicked and scared to think straight. I'll check in with you later." He grabs a bottle of Gatorade from the refrigerator before walking back to his studio with a certain swagger to his step that, as far as Seokjin knows, is unrivaled. He smiles to himself as he pours some infused water for himself and, with a new resolve, gathers Namjoon's chart, whatever textbooks he can find that mention his conditions, and a spiral notebook with pens and highlighters. He sets up in the living room and turns on his favorite music to help him focus while he dives in to his research.

Five hours go by. Seokjin gets plenty of research done. He reads and rereads Namjoon's chart until it doesn't make him feel nauseous and panicked anymore. Yoongi is still working on his demo when the daylight begins to turn to evening. When Seokjin hears the music from Yoongi's studio abruptly stop, he figures there was a misstep somewhere in the music-making process and it'll be back on in a minute. Instead, the younger male comes barreling down the hallway to the living room, clutching his phone in one hand and gripping the wall in the other. Instantly, Seokjin is on the alert.

"Yoongi-yah, what--"

"Jungkook just had another psychotic break. Worse than last time."

"Wait, what? No. No! Because that means--"

"Exactly."

"I thought he was doing better. His medications were helping and he had a good, steady job at the dance studio downtown, last I heard."

"Well, he forgot his medications. And then he 'forgot' to take them for a week because he didn't like the way they made him feel. So I guess they worked out of his system or whatever..."

"...and he had a breakdown." Seokjin finishes Yoongi's sentence for him and leans back in his seat, covering his face with his hands for a moment before looking back up at the youger. "What did he do, exactly?"

"He decided to run out and play in the street. Caused a traffic jam and a wreck near the center of town. He got hit and his leg is hurt. That's how they were able to apprehend him."

"They who?"

Yoongi sighs. "Men from the Busan Mental Hospital for the Criminally Insane."

"Ah, well, that makes sense because he lives in Busan." Seokjin sighs and rubs his temples. "This is too much for me in one day. I had such high hopes for Jungkook."

"I know, hyung. I did too."

What neither of them know is that Jungkook and Jimin have a complicated history, and Jimin is also at the Busan Mental Hospital for the Criminally Insane. The two of them being in contact with each other never turns out well for anyone involved.