•𝑶𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑰𝑫𝑬•【√】

⇥CHAPTER 10⇤

He will be okay. He has to be okay.

"He'll be fine," Joon sees the fear on all of our faces. He looks just as scared, "That kid is the toughest son-bitch I've ever met. He'll be fine," but he is pacing the hospital waiting room. It's almost three in the morning according to the obnoxiously loud clock on the wall. Taehyung is sitting next to me, tapping his foot anxiously. He still looks furious. Jiwon sits quietly on my other side, staring into her untouched coffee cup. Nurses and orderlies flit in and out occasionally, giving her sad looks. It seems like everyone in the hospital recognizes her.

"How long is he going to be in there?" Taehyung jumps to his feet. One side of his white t-shirt is soaked with Jimin' blood from carrying him back into the car. I look down to see my hands are stained red as well. No wonder the man on the other side of the room keeps staring. We are quite a ghastly sight.

"What happened?" My voice breaks. I can't look away from my shaking, bloody hands.

"We were almost back to the car when we heard someone followin' us," Joon speaks quietly, so as not to be overheard, "Jimin knew it was Minhyuk. He told me to step back. Jimin couldn't... he tried talkin' to him. Minhyuk didn't want to listen."

"He should've known better."

"Tae, it's his brother," Jiwon admonishes, barely louder than a whisper.

"No. You know what? He's not," Taehyung  flings his arms out wide, "We all know it, so why don't we just say it? Fuck them. We're his fucking family."

"I ain't arguin' that, but you need to calm down and lower your voice," Joon takes hold of Taehyung's arm, leading him back to his seat. Taehyung doesn't put up a fight, plunking down into the chair silently. No one speaks. The clock trumpets out each second's passing.

"I'll be right back," I have to wash the blood off. I can't handle this. Have we really been here less than an hour? It seems so much longer than that, and I just can't look at these four walls anymore.

"Where are you going?" Taehyung looks at me with hurt eyes.

"I need to wash my hands," I shake my head and turn to go. We passed a ladies room down the hall. The man sitting across the room watches me judgmentally as I pass him. Well, screw you too, buddy.

I've got the water running as hot as it'll go, violently scraping the dried blood off my skin. The soap bubbles turn a grisly, dark color against the gleaming porcelain. The mirror is not my friend tonight. There's blood on my dress, my cheek, in my hair. I don't know how it got everywhere, but I wash as much off as I can. It's under my nails. I can't get it out. There's a lump in my throat, but the tears aren't coming. My hands are raw with my scrubbing. Eventually I give up. I turn the water off and head to the door. There's yelling down the hall, and it makes my heart stop. I run the rest of the way, skidding into the waiting room.

"Sir, you are being disruptive. Please calm down and answer my questions."

"The Hell I will," Joon is in the doctor's face.

"Mr. Kim, shouting will not help."

"What's going on?" I run over. Please let Jimin be okay.

"Another relative, I assume?" He is being far too snippy to be bearing bad news. Jimin must be okay. I can finally breathe.

"Damn skippy," I turn to Joon, who is still red from shouting, "What's going on?" I repeat, "Where're the others?"

"They are visiting  the patient," The doctor answers for him.

"Which is what I'll be doin' now if you're done with your foolishness. Good night," Joon strides past the doctor angrily.

"Ma'am, as I was trying to tell him we cannot release Mr. Park until we see identification that proves he is over eighteen."