There was silence. And he realized belated that it was probably because Jimin couldn't speak. That his vocal cords were probably damaged.
So there was silence. Nothing but the sounds of the night surrounding them as they made their way through the city.
But he could feel it. Knew it was happening. Didn't even have to glance over to know that there were tears. Felt each one slice into his own heart like a white hot knife. Felt little pieces of himself shatter as they fell.
"I'm sorry." It sounded so incredibly pathetic, even to his own ears. "I'm so sorry. If I had gotten there sooner maybe -"
"Don't." That voice was just as ruined as he imagined it would be. Raspy and raw and that one single word caused far more coughing than it should have. Until he was pulling over at a twenty four hour pharmacy, practically begging Jimin to stay where he was. Until he was running inside and trying to find whatever he could that might help. Throat lozenges that promised to help soothe any irritation. A box of ginger tea and honey with the intention of making sure Taehyung would make it. Grabbed two bottles of water and paid for it all with cash. Like he was committing some crime that he didn't want there to be any trace of.
Jimin was still there. And he realized that it was probably only because he had no where to actually go. What was he going to do? Stumble out into the darkness, trying to find the very first person who would listen to turn Jungkook in?
No. Of course not. And Seokjin was entirely aware of that.
Because they had been fucked up in all of the same ways by the same person. Had made the exact same choices that had lead them down the exact same paths. Only Jimin's outcome had lead to the looming destruction and ruin that was always right there, somewhere off in the distance. Close enough for you to always know it was there, yet far enough away to not actually be threatening.
And Seokjin's had been Jungkook.
Jungkook was the beginning and the middle and the end.
Jungkook was everything. And they were both more than aware of it.
Even as he twisted off the cap on one of the bottles and handed it over, tearing into the package of drops that he hoped would actually do something, he could feel it. The unspoken understanding that came from loving the same person. That came from being destroyed by them.
"Slow." Because it was instinct to tilt the bottle up, to try and take in as much as he could. But it only made him cough harder, the water coming right back up into his own lap. The second attempt went down easier, taking little sips that soothed the ache that had settled into his throat, followed by the acceptance of the little drop, stuffing it into his cheek and sucking with all the force he could stand.
"Thank you." It was still broken, still raw and abused and he knew it was probably never going to be the same. Would never go back to being that soft, melodious lilt it once had been.
"Of course." Shifting the car back into drive, he carefully pulled out of the spot he had chosen, flipping on the turn signal and getting back on track. "What are you going to tell Tae?"
"Not sure yet." Chances were, no matter what he actually said, Taehyung was going to know the truth. And Taehyung would feel the guilt that came with the weight of his actions.
Because if he had never told Jimin where Seokjin worked. If he had never once mentioned in passing that he had moved out of their place into a little apartment above that same bar. If he had never given out those little pieces of information when he was entirely aware that Jimin couldn't handle them, then this series of events never would have happened.
