Terrible Things

Chapter 23 - Then

"The hospital?" I screech into the phone. Taehyung's eyes dart to me for a second before he's back to playing with his nuggets.

"Yoongi," Jimin sighs. "I know, love. I totally get it. I know better than anyone what the accident did to you." My heart rate slows a bit, soothed by Jimin's soft voice. "I promise this isn't like that."

"Then why are you there?" I mumble, embarrassed by my freak out.

"I tripped," he mumbles.

"You tripped?"

"Yes, okay?" He groans. "I tripped and fell into the door. I hurt my wrist. I wouldn't even be calling you but they want to give me something for the pain so I won't be able to drive home."

"I'm on my way," I say quickly, irritated by his words. "We'll be there soon."

"Drive safe. I love you."

"I love you too," I reply, then hang up the phone. Sliding it back in my pocket, I stand from the table. "Taehyung, baby." He stops, blinking at me slowly, his dinos still clutched in his tiny fingers. I crouch down beside him, placing my hand on his shoulder. "Dada has a booboo," I explain.

"Dada?"

"Mhm." I pat his shoulder. "So we have to go to the doctor and get him, okay?"

"Hm," he agrees, nodding quickly. Dropping his nuggets, he dusts off his hands and pulls on the straps of his seat, trying to free himself.

"Okay, okay," I say. I make quick work of unbuckling him and pulling him into my arms. "Really though, who hurts themselves so badly by tripping that they need a hospital?"

"Dada," Taehyung says, making me chuckle. I wasn't asking to get an answer, but yet he still gave me one.

"Seems to be that way," I say, setting him on the couch. I grab his shoes from the rack in the corner. His holds his foot up, wiggling his socked toes as he giggles. I slip the shoes on, a smile pulling at my lips. "You're silly," I laugh, standing again.

"TaeTae siwwy?"

"TaeTae is the silliest," I assure him, grabbing his coat. He spreads his arm out, letting me pull the sleeves on. Compared to Jungkook, who had a tendency to run away when his parents attempted to dress him, Taehyung was a blessing.

Zipping the coat up, I pat Taehyung on the sides, our own little signal that he was done getting ready and had been a good boy. A smile breaks out across his face, his hands clapping for how good of a boy he was. Laughing, I scoop him up into my arms and take him to the garage.

The spot where Jimin's car usually sits is empty, leaving only my Hyundai Palisade in the open space, it's black paint glinting in the light.

"Vroom, vroom," Taehyung sounds, his hands moving like he's steering as I strap him into his carseat. He's still playing when I close the door and get into the driver's seat.

The drive to the hospital is quick, the roads mostly empty, and the car is full of quiet music, Taehyung humming along to the words. If Jimin was here, he'd have his phone out and be recording, adding to the never ending collection of videos he has of Taehyung.

I carry Taehyung inside, telling the receptionist my name and letting her know I'm looking for my husband.

"He's right in the back, if you'll just follow me," she says, moving from behind the desk. "He's so cute," she coos as we walk, pinching Taehyung's cheek. He grumbles, turning his face into my neck.

"I'm sorry," I apologize, patting Tae's back. "He gets shy." Taehyung squeezes me tighter, burrowing deeper into my neck.

Her mouth drops open. "That's so un-Alpha like," she sneers. "Do you think he'll be an-"

"Only time will tell," I say harshly, cutting her off. It's none of her business if my son is an Omega. It certainly isn't her place to imply that we should be ashamed of his status. Jimin had worked hard to overcome his shame, especially when we started to suspect Taehyung might be an Omega as well.

Some people are just really closed minded and can't see passed what they've been taught. But that isn't our problem.

She doesn't speak the rest of the way, instead opting to silently lead us passed door after door until we finally stop outside the last on in the hallway. "He's just inside here," is the last thing she says before taking off.

I knock twice, Jimin's muffled voice calling for us to come in. He grins when we open the door. "There's my boys." He's laying on the bed, still dressed in his dance clothes. His hand is resting on a pillow by his side and as we get closer I can see that there's a swollen bubble at the bottom of his thumb.

"That looks bad, Chim," I say, taking the seat by the bed. Taehyung turns in my lap, his eyes going to Jimin's hand.

"Dada, you have a booboo," he points out, voice thick with tears.

"It's okay, Taehyungie," Jimin soothes. "It doesn't hurt."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Taehyung nods, seemingly appeased.

But just because he wasn't freaking out doesn't mean I wouldn't.

"I thought you said you tripped?" I ask, eyeing his hand. It looked too serious to just be caused by tripping.

"I did," he answers, shrugging.

"And it's that bad?"

"The doctor said I must've hit it hard." A goofy smile spreads across his face. "I broke it the whole way through," he tells me, giggling.

"Did they give you pain medicine?"

"Mhmmmm."

Taehyung turns his head, whispering in my ear, "Dada is siwwy. Not Tae."

I nod and pat his leg, letting him know I agreed. Jimin was indeed acting silly, no doubt the medication was taking hold of him. There's a knock at the door before it opens, a nurse slipping in, pale bandages held in her hand.

"Time to get you splinted," she says, but Jimin just smiles. She moves to his side and I watch as she carefully lifts his hand and wraps some cotton around it. "He'll have to see an orthopedic specialist tomorrow," she tells me, eyes still on her work. "He broke it the whole way through so it'll take a little while to heal. It was clean and still in place though, so surgery is unlikely." She grabs the bandage, wrapping it securely around his wrist. "He should take the pain medicine for the first 2 weeks but then after that the pain should decrease substantially." She clips the ubandage, stepping back. "But that's it." She turns back to Jimin. "No more falling, okay?"

"Okey dokey," he says, sitting up. She laughs, bidding us farewell and telling Jimin once again to be careful before slipping back out the door. Jimin stands, slightly wobbly on his feet, amd reaches for his jacket, which he struggles to get over his newly wrapped arm.

Sighing, a set Taehyung on the chair and move to help him, gently sliding the fabric over the bandages. "Yoongi," Jimin says, his voice a whisper.

"Hm?"

"Look."

I follow his eyes, watching as Taehyung lets go of the chair, wobbling slightly before-

He takes his first steps, his hands held out beside him, eyes on us the whole time.

"Wow," Jimin breathes, a smile lighting up his face. He reaches his good hand out. "Come here, baby. You can do it!"

Taehyung takes two steps before falling down. When he sits back up he's cradling his arm, tears running down his cheeks. "Tae has booboo," he cries.

Jimin crouches down beside him and lifts Taehyung's arm to his lips, kissing the spot he hurt. "All better?" The boy nods his head and Jimin smiles. "Remember, Tae. Booboos may hurt at first, but they will always heal."