Guardian

11

Transforming hurt. It didn't just change Namjoon's body-- it affected his senses, changed his point of view, and left him sick and unsteady. But Jeohoon took pleasure in driving him to the point of it every time they met. Loved to pursue him until Namjoon shifted. Until he could take pictures, show Namjoon how stupid he looked trying to curl up like a cat in his ungainly human body.

Namjoon let him. What was he supposed to do? Fighting Jeohoon was exhausting.

He flinched as Jeohoon ran a hand across his bare chest, and Jeohoon laughed, fishing in his pocket for his phone.

"What? Bet you let Jimin touch you there. You like it, don't you? Being petted."

Namjoon jerked away from him, attempting to hiss and lapsing into a coughing fit instead. Jeohoon backed off, but held the camera up, laughing again when Namjoon lifted an arm to block his face.

"What? Want me to send it to Jimin? I don't think he needs any more proof..." then Jeohoon hummed, standing and looking down at his phone. "But maybe... yeah. Just let it hit home, so they don't get any ideas about pitying you."

Namjoon slumped against the wall, panting. The world tilted and spun. He wouldn't be able to shift back for a long time. He had escaped it for so long, but now... where was he supposed to go, naked and alone? His body ached, shaking under its own weight. This was why he couldn't be human. This was why people were horrified to learn who he was. He was ugly, disgusting, demented, crazy--

A small voice in his head told him he shouldn't be thinking those things. That he needed to get it together and find shelter before it got colder. That maybe he could try to transform again. But Namjoon stayed curled up against the wall as Jeohoon walked away, calling goodnight as if Namjoon were used to sleeping on the ground with nothing to cover his body.

He hated himself. Hated that he had done it again, made someone else hate him. He missed Jimin.

It had been so many years since he could cry that Namjoon didn't recognize the burning behind his eyelids at first. Then, when the tears came, he didn't try to wipe them away. The shivering increased as the temperature dropped, and he leaned back, slumping to the ground and staring up at the sliver of sky between the roofs overhead.

How had everything gone wrong so fast? Was there any way to recover from this?

"Namjoon? Namjoon! Fuck, fuck, fuck--"

Namjoon heard footsteps and felt something soft wrap around him, covering him. "Fuck," Taehyung repeated, yanking Namjoon into his arms and rocking him back and forth. "Fuck, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, fuck--"

"You're gonna send him into a panic, talking like that," Jungkook said. Namjoon felt him rest a hand on his cheek, using a thumb to prop his mouth open. "I'll call Yoongi."

I'm sorry, Namjoon thought, trying to move and failing. Forgot how heavy I am--

"No, don't fucking apologize, I should have seen it, he was being so fucking obvious about it," Taehyung said. "He sent Jimin a photo-- he'd be here right now if he wasn't dry-heaving over the toilet-- we'll let him know we've got you--"

Don't take me back to him, Namjoon thought, please. I can't--

"I mean, he's mad," Taehyung said. "But he doesn't want you out here on your own. He's not gonna yell at you."
Jimin not yelling when he's mad? Namjoon finally managed to shift his head, half-nuzzling Taehyung's shoulder. Impossible.

"Fucking hell, Joon," Taehyung said. "F-fucking hell..."

He was crying. Namjoon groaned, wishing he had the power to stand on his own, but he was helpless. Taehyung tucked him deeper into his chest, sobbing and trying to wrap the blanket tighter around him. When Jungkook came back with Yoongi and Hoseok(how long had it been since he saw them?), it took Taehyung an agonizingly long time to let go and let Jungkook lift Namjoon.

When he did, Namjoon felt his stomach drop.

As a cat, he was no stranger to being hurt. Jeohoon and the other people he had told had done many things to Namjoon that Namjoon didn't care to think about. But all of that pain, even the pain of watching Jimin cry was nothing compared to the expressions on the faces of the men watching Jungkook carry him to the car because he didn't even know how to stand properly.

He wished he could switch back. Back to when he was only a cat in their eyes, and not some crazy idiot who didn't want to confront people as an equal.

The car ride back was silent, minus Taehyung hiccuping next to Namjoon in the backseat. Namjoon let his eyes fall closed halfway through and woke to Jungkook lying him down on the bed, talking to someone Namjoon couldn't see.

"--Tae says he's nervous."

"Why wouldn't he be?" Jimin asked dully. "My friend invaded his fucking privacy and took a picture of him naked. I'd be surprised if he wasn't."

Namjoon flinched. Jungkook sighed.

"You promise you'll be alright back here?"

"Yeah," Jimin said. "No losing my temper. Promise."
"He hasn't spoken," Jungkook said. "Might not know how."

"That's fine," Jimin said. "I don't have much to say anyhow."
Jungkook nodded. Namjoon watched as he moved out of his line of sight, then flinched as Jimin took Jungkook's place, sitting down on the edge of the bed and reaching out to run a hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry," Jimin said. "I should have known."