Smoke Song

Broken

Jungkook slept the whole way back and was awoken by a familiar voice.

"Brought the lost dog back, huh?"

"Back off, Yoongi."

"Why? You think coddling him is going to fix this?"

"Maybe if you tried it--!"

"How do you know I haven't, huh?"

Jungkook stepped out of the car, stumbling as Taehyung threw his arms around him.

"Don't ever scare me like that again," Taehyung mumbled.

Jungkook leaned back, sighing. Once upon a time, the phrase had made him feel wanted; now he felt nothing. Slowly, he shook his head, pushing Taehyung back, and avoided his eyes. It was a lie. Taehyung only felt guilty for almost losing him. It wouldn't be enough to keep his friend from leaving him again.

"Kook?" Taehyung said softly.

Jungkook was watching Yoongi. Knowing the name of the man who wouldn't leave him alone didn't help the sight of him. Shorter than Jin, fluffy blue hair poking up and glowing in the sunlight, Yoongi rested his hands on his hips, slowly shaking his head, eyes dragging themselves over to where Jungkook stood.

"Well, kid?" he called, "Did you find your voice?"

Jungkook gritted his teeth and shook his head, pushing Taehyung aside.

"What'd I do?" his friend called as he stalked away, eyes burning.

"So it was you!" Jin exclaimed at the same time.

"Anyone who can't deal with a little silence is--"

Jungkook didn't hear the rest of what Yoongi said. The doors closed behind him, and he was in the building again, trapped. A lump rose in his throat, but he just walked slowly over to the stairs and started climbing.

The silence hurt.

Jungkook stayed in his room most days, curled up on the bed, feeling it pierce him over and over. He had begun to hear a buzzing in his ears when people spoke around him, over him, treating him like a broken doll.

He tried to scream and ended up coughing, needles stabbing at his throat from the inside. Attempts to speak were short-lived and disappointing.

At least no one tried to make him.

He stood on the roof, alone, wind ruffling his hair. When he raised his arms, the wind dried the sweat on his body, cooling it down. Running up and down the stairs did that. Sometimes, he imagined he could feel something in the tips of his fingers, perhaps a pulse or a healing nerve, but whenever he focused on it and tried to move, it was snuffed out.

Taehyung hadn't been around for a few days. Something about a training mission with Yoongi, or a visit to another training center. Jungkook couldn't remember anymore. Taehyung was gone so often they hadn't had a chance to so much as sit together in weeks.

Not that Taehyung spent much time with him when he was home. It was easier to hang around the ARMYs, who could at least answer questions and carry on a conversation.

Jungkook sighed, leaning against the chain-link fence. If he was honest with himself, he had some hope. A few late-night visits to the recording studio, struggling to angle his hands so he could bang out tunes on the keyboard and try to mix rhythms with the complicated equipment, had shown him that there might be some possibility of creating music--if he could figure out a way to maneuver his hands.

But would that be worth anything if he couldn't get anyone's attention long enough to share it?

I wish they'd never found us, he thought, I wish I'd never agreed to move in with Taehyung. It wouldn't have been so suspicious...

They might not have found us.

He closed his eyes, fighting back the second wave of tears that had threatened him that day. If the doctors hadn't tried so hard, maybe it would've been easier to resign himself to it. Maybe it would be easier to forget that there was supposed to be some possibility of fixing his hands, and nothing was working.

Maybe it would be easier to think of other things.

"Oh, you were up here?"

Jungkook turned, forcing a small smile. Jimin stood in the doorway, one hand still holding the closing door. They stared at each other for a few seconds, and then Jimin sighed, shoulders sagging.

"Jin's been looking for you," he said.

Jungkook bit his lip and looked away, shrugging. That was the other thing. The doctors had long given up on his voice, though a heated argument between Jin and Yoongi suggested that at least one didn't like the idea. And ever since the doctors had stopped asking about his throat, Jin had been dogging him, offering this or that new treatment and convincing him to sit through hours with doctors and healers, hoping that he might get back his hands... then that he might be able to move his fingers...

"You should go tal-- I mean, you should go find him," Jimin's ears turned bright red. "I mean, I-- I don't -- uh--"

Jungkook knew his face had given away his feelings. Jimin looked down at the ground, silent, avoiding eye contact. Jungkook took a deep, shuddering breath, and moved past Jimin, shouldering the door open so he could make it through.

Jimin didn't try to follow him.

"I promise this one will work," Jin said, "Please? I even know a few people I could ask..."

Jungkook shook his head.

Jin's shoulders sagged. "Is that it, then?" he asked quietly, "You're going to give up?"

"You're just going to give up?!"

Tears stung Jungkook's eyes, and he looked away. They were standing in an empty hallway, surrounded by doors on all sides. Jin had lead him to one of the sparsely occupied floors, saying something about speaking where it was quiet.

Jungkook didn't understand the point of quiet when one of two people didn't speak.

"Jungkook..." Jin trailed off, growling under his breath, "I know Yoongi's been a jerk, but that doesn't mean you have to lose hope! He's always like this, he doesn't think before he speaks--"

Jungkook held up a hand, shaking his head once again. He didn't want to argue about Yoongi. It was clear the rapper hated him more with every passing day, and for good reason. He was a waste of time, energy, and resources, and he couldn't even pay them back. For fighting-obsessed Min Yoongi, this was unbearable.

So Jungkook let him have his way. After all, there wasn't much he could do about it.

"I wish you'd try to communicate more," Jin muttered. "Like the hand signals. Maybe you can't get smooth movement, but-- well-- it's something, isn't it? And if there's someone who can heal nerves, and you might get your hands back, wouldn't you want to--?"

Jungkook steeled himself and looked Jin in the eyes, but he knew he couldn't hold it in. His mouth contorted, and a tear slid down his face too fast to be hidden by his hand. He was sick of it. Sick of being the patient, the lonely one, the sick one, the one no one could stand being around. But what was he supposed to do about that?

What could he do about anything, anymore?

"Jungkook..." Jin said, and Jungkook heard his helpless tone and knew that it was over. If Jin was losing patience, if even Jin didn't know if he could keep going, it wouldn't be long before he would have to leave. No one else even bothered to argue for his staying, except maybe Taehyung, and he was gone too often to have any weight in those matters.

Jungkook let his hand fall, shaking his head, and swung around, sight blurring. Before Jin could catch him, before he could be stopped and questioned and worried over, he ran for the stairs.