Healer

Familiar Strangers

The world outside was big and noisy and scary.

Jimin sat on the steps to the monastery, shivering, arms wrapped around himself. The monks had dressed him in faded jeans and a long-sleeved white shirt, given him a pair of sneakers, and left him to wait for Jungkook alone. His caretaker had murmured something about facing the world bravely.

Tough words from someone whose life was dedicated to escaping it.

How in the world do they think I could do this?

It hurts.

I don't want this.

He took a shaky breath, staring at the spot where the stairs met the ground. Even his lips were trembling, though they were barely open far enough for him to breath. He closed his eyes, letting his head tip towards his knees, and sighed.

Footsteps passed him on the stairs, and an uncomfortable feeling twisted in his stomach, rising into his throat and threatening to expel what little he'd been able to eat a few minutes before. What if someone takes me from here? he thought, and terror mixed in with his discomfort, sending his brain into a spiral. The shaking in his hands intensified until they vibrated against his sides, matching their pulse to the slight jerks his shoulders made as he struggled not to cry.

What if someone takes me back to that place? What if this is all a farce?

I can't. I can't, I can't, I can't!

"Are you alright?"

The voice was deep and smooth, with a slight slur. Jimin shook his head and turned his face away, but a hand was already there to stop it, gently slipping under his chin and tilting his head upward. Jimin gasped, wrenching his chin away.

"It's alright," the voice said, "Jungkook sent me ahead to make sure you were ready. Let's wait here for him, shall we?"

The hand withdrew, and someone sat next to Jimin, humming a short tune. Jimin shivered, pressing both hands to his mouth, and scooted as far away as he could, which wasn't more than two inches.

The stranger gave him a chuckle mixed with a sigh. "I'm not that scary, am I?"

Jimin swallowed and shook his head.

"Then why won't you look me in the eyes? Come on," the stranger scooted closer, "just for a few seconds? It might help."

Jimin shook his head.

"Please?"

Jimin shook his head again, mouth twisting. Would this be what he had to deal with wherever they were taking him? Were they really healers? Or had the monks just chosen the first group of charlatans they could foist him off on?

His throat closed and he choked on his own saliva, coughing and burying his head under his arms. The stranger patted him on the back, hissing in sympathy.

"It'll be alright," he said. "Jungkook will be here soon."

Jimin let out a breath, swallowing hard and coughing one last time.He didn't want Jungkook to come. He wanted to go back into the monastery, back to his bed. A few tears spilled over the edges of his eyelids. His throat was now dry and raw, his chest aching, his heart beating too fast. Everything hurt.

"Wow," the stranger murmured. His hand was still on the back of Jimin's neck, but he slowly withdrew it, only to slip it around to Jimin's throat, his fingertips gently brushing against it. "Can I help?" he asked.

Jimin shook his head. He didn't want to be touched, healer or not. That was too much pain to think about.

"Not even a little?" the stranger pressed.

Jimin shook his head again.

The stranger sighed and withdrew his hand. "I don't know how Yoongi will handle this," he mumbled, as if to himself.

A shiver worked its way up Jimin's spine. Yoongi? he thought, Yoongi? It can't be...

"Hyung!"

Jimin looked up. Jungkook was jogging across the outer courtyard, flushed, worry splashed over his face.

"Are you okay?" he asked, coming up the stairs to them. "What happened?"

"I just found him like this," the stranger said, "You didn't say it was this bad."

"I didn't know," Jungkook said, crouching in front of Jimin. "Jimin-ssi, are you okay?"

Jimin swallowed and looked down at his hands.

"Yoongi's going to go insane," the stranger sighed.

"Yoongi can suck it up and deal with it," Jungkook snapped, "Come on. We've still got the train ride ahead of us."

Jimin stiffened immediately. Train? he thought, please, no. no. nonononono--

Jungkook looked down at him and sighed, his expression softening. "The trains have changed a lot since you last rode one," he said, "It won't take nearly as long. Come on."

Jimin hesitated, then took Jungkook's proffered hand, standing and following him down the steps. As they reached the gate, he turned to look back at the monastery and stopped, staring openly at the stranger.

Long brown hair. Mischeivous eyes. Round, carefully proportioned features. 

"So you do recognize me," the stranger said, smiling and brushing his bangs out of his eyes, "think you can remember my name?"

Jimin shivered, stepping backwards. The stranger's face rattled at the door he'd locked his memories behind, cracking it open.

"You still think you're free?" a man loomed over him, laughing darkly. "How many times do we have to remind you, boy? The tattoo's on your back. Your life is over."

Jimin gritted his teeth, reaching up in a futile attempt to rip his trapped wrist out of the man's grip. His arm was beginning to go numb. The man laughed and Jimin snarled, lashing out, only to find himself flying across the room into the bedframe.

"Let's see you try that again," the man said. "The emperor doesn't tolerate idiocy."

"He'll hate me, then," Jimin snarled.

"Not when I'm done with you."

"Jimin? Jimin, what's wrong?"

Jimin gritted his teeth, closing his eyes, and looked away.

"What's wrong?" Taehyung asked, frowning, "Was I really that annoying?"

Jimin shook his head.

"Then what happened?"

"We'll be late for the train," Jungkook broke in, "Let's go--you can question him later." 

Without this note there were 1004 words. I hesitated to break that, but hey. It's all good.

Fun fact: this essentially started with me writing a version of Jimin's backstory and realizing that it made for terrible narration. I used to have it on this account last year, but I took it down. Seemed like a waste of time. 

Still, I couldn't let go of it. Ten drafts later... I hope you like it. '^^) It's had a lot of reworking.