Healer

Shared Suffering

The monks pressed him into the mattress, unaware that the pressure was the very thing making him scream. Jimin arched his back, struggling, but none of them moved. The pain wouldn't let up. Why wouldn't it let up? What were they doing to him?

An elderly monk muttered a prayer. His old, wrinkled hands massaged Jimin's scalp, heedless of his sobbing cries. Jimin felt his body seize up, going completely still, and some of the monks relaxed, sighing in relief.

Their sighs hurt more than all the wounds and sore muscles in his body combined. Jimin remained frozen, tears leaking from beneath his closed eyes, as the elderly monk massaged his scalp, oblivious to the pain and fear racing with his heart.

"You will heal," the elderly monk crooned. "You will heal."

But Jimin couldn't believe him.

***

"Joon?"

"What's up?" Namjoon asked, setting his book down. "You feeling okay?"

"Better than usual, actually," Jimin said softly, sitting down next to him. "Just... a little confused."

"About what?"

"Everyone," Jimin chuckled, leaning back into the couch cushions and drawing his feet up. "How did we all end up together?"

Namjoon leaned back, closing the book and looking him straight in the eye. "Trust me," he said, "People like us have a way of finding each other."

Jimin frowned, tipping his head forward and rubbing his ankles. "What do you mean?"

"Well, everyone else is a healer," Namjoon said, leaning back and staring up at the ceiling. "They found us because we needed healing."

"But what about how they found each other?"

"I don't know, Jimin," Namjoon said. "I was last to the party, same as you."

Jimin sighed, closing his eyes. "Will it ever end?" he asked softly.

"What?"

"Never mind," Jimin murmured. "I'm just... being silly."

Namjoon grunted. Jimin sat quietly for a few moments more, then opened his eyes, looking over at the older man.

Namjoon had returned to his book, brow furrowed. Jimin watched him read, acutely aware of how the man tilted his head, lips twitching as he read a part silently to himself. Namjoon wore a thick sweater and dark jeans, creating the ultimate picture of comfort and quiet as he leaned into the couch, eyes focused firmly on the book in his hands.

But Jimin saw just a little farther. Perhaps it was because he looked for something beyond the surface, something to confirm his growing suspicions. Perhaps it was because he wanted to see someone just like him, someone who could really understand what was stirring inside him, threatening to break free.

And he saw it.

He saw the quiet line of tension running through Namjoon's effortless relaxation, the subtle wince as the older man shifted on the couch, the way Namjoon's hands shook slightly as he turned the page. He saw how Namjoon's eyelids drooped, hiding brimming tears. He saw the shaky rise of Namjoon's chest.

"Joon?" he asked softly.

"Oh, Min," Namjoon chuckled, setting the book down again. "You're watching now, aren't you?"

"Maybe I am," Jimin said quietly. "They told me before, but..."

"A lot's happened since we lost you," Namjoon said, reaching over and cupping Jimin's face in his hands. "To everyone."

"No kidding," Jimin mumbled.

Namjoon laughed, shaking his head. "That's what two years does," he said, "We might never be able to explain it all. But hey... you're not alone, okay?"

Jimin sighed, eyes dropping away from his face. "I know--"

"So next time you have a nightmare, come get me."