[M] THIRD MOLT (1/2)
At 4am the sound of shattering glass wakes them all up.
"Hoseok. Go talk to him. Just try." He hates the way Jimin's voice breaks a little at the end.
"Why me?" It's quiet until another dish is smashed in the kitchen.
"You always...he would always smile when you were around."
"You were his friends too."
"Not like you were." Hoseok frowns hard in the darkness, hates that Taehyung is so right, but he gets up anyway, already shivering as he pulls on a pair of pants and a hoody. Light gushes into the room before the door clicks shut behind him.
He hates remembering the Yoongi from a few months ago. Thinking about how close they had been was painful. He hadn't been able to make Yoongi laugh or even smile in a long time. He hadn't sat close or even looked him in the eye in a long time.
"Hey. What's up?" He didn't know what else to say.
"Go away." His voice is dark and rough.
"Fuck off, J-hope." He spits it out like it's poison. Like he hates it so much he can't stand it. Like the concept of hope is despicable to him.
There's glass everywhere. There's blood too, some is dripping from his nose and the corner of his mouth. It's even darker than it had been when he first saw it, like liquid black tar. He still has his shoes on but he's clutching broken pieces in his hands, dark viscousness dripping from his fingertips.
"What's wrong with you? What's going on?" Yoongi is breathing so hard and his eyes are closed. He crumples to his knees, his jeans getting sliced and stained as more wounds open up.
"I don't know if..." This time it's quiet, so quiet he's hardly sure he heard it. He curls up, hands in his hair, pulling hard. Hoseok is shaken, heart swollen and stuck in his throat, and he moves closer even though his feet are bare, trying to be careful. He touches Yoongi's shoulder lightly, but he jerks away regardless, locking eyes with him as he cowers from his outstretched hand. There's so many conflicting emotions flicking back and forth on his face before he curls back up that Hoseok has no clue what to make of this, of any of this. Not knowing what to say, he tries anyway.
"I...we want to help you." Yoongi makes the weirdest noise after hearing that, like a strangled, whining sob.
"I d-don't know- I don't- I don't know- I- I-" he trails off and goes limp, glass crunching beneath him. Hoseok doesn't know what to do, can only watch as a shiver shakes his entire frame.
"You're so stupid." Yoongi's voice is unreal, heavy and coarse; he's trembling, watching the blood and dark slime drip down his own fingers.
"I loved the way you would squirm when I told you about those nightmares. You hated it so much and I did it to you every night. You're really dumb."
"W-what?" He pushes himself to his feet, still staring at his hands. When his focus changes, to Hoseok's face, eyes, down to his soul, his blood runs cold under the intensity and he has the thought that this isn't Yoongi at all, those eyes, it isn't Yoongi behind them, but he doesn't understand how that could be true.
"You made that so fun for me, getting to think of the most awful things I could to share with you, to scare the shit out of you. Really, watching the way this whole process has destroyed you has been one of my favorite parts."
"Y-Yoongi! I- what..." His hands curl into fists by his side. Someone he trusted, someone he was only ever kind to, someone he only ever wanted to love, wasn't allowed to do this to him.
"No! No, you know what, fuck you! You don't get to treat us like this! You're- we've let you act like a piece of garbage for so long, way too long! What has gotten into you??" Yoongi pushes past him while he's still talking, headed toward the closest exit.
"Just leave me alone. You'll never get back the person that you knew before." He yanks the front door open and makes to step through it before pressing a hand to his stomach, frowning hard. There's a heavy pause. He pukes.
"Yoongi?" The stench of fresh asphalt fills the air. He falters a little before stumbling away and Hoseok starts pulling on one of any pair of shoes by the door.
"Just leave me alone." His voice trembles and he sounds like he's going to throw up again. There's no way he's going to "just leave him alone" after that, Hoseok needs this to end tonight. They all need this to end tonight.
"Yoongi! You're obviously really sick! Just come back!" Hoseok slams the door behind them, not thinking any more because Yoongi starts running and it's scary how fast he is, Hoseok knows he'll have to fight to keep up.
He turns a corner, headed toward the backside of their building, and Hoseok barely catches a glimpse of him as he edges under a gap in the chainlink fence between themselves and some overgrown, undeveloped land. He nearly tears his clothes as he crams himself beneath the same bent wire, cursing Yoongi for his slight frame. Cursing Yoongi for a lot of things
He's never been into the woods behind their dorm before and the only thing keeping him from getting lost is the flash of Yoongi's white tshirt in front of him, and he can tell he's already falling behind. They run for a long time, branches whipping them as roots try to trip them up. Hoseok can only keep going because he knows, feels so deeply, that if he stops, if he loses Yoongi right now, if he can't keep up with him in this moment, he will never get him back.
Every time Yoongi confided in him, trusted in him; every moment they spent growing up together, struggling, supporting each other; every heavy weight that Yoongi decided to share with him. All the times he had no idea what to do with that fragile gift of responsibility, so he hardly did anything. All the times Yoongi spoke to him with a tone that said "help me" and he could only smile back and squeeze his hand, meaning, "I want to but I don't know how". Now was the time for him to trust himself and do something. Do anything.
Knowing this would be his last chance, he goes far beyond his physical limit, lungs burning, chest aching, and so thankful when Yoongi finally stops ahead. It's dark and he can hardly see, surroundings distorted by moonlit shadows, but the stench is overwhelming. Iron layered with the smell of sticky tar, rotten wood and stagnant water.
Blood pounds in his ears and his throat burns from the cold. Every muscle in his body trembles, unresponsive and numb.
But Yoongi is there, his tshirt practically glows. He must be cold, Hoseok thinks absently, as he watches him collapse.
Hoseok is close behind him, falling to his knees to shake the motionless body in front of him. No response, but he feels shallow breath on his fingertips and sighs in relief. Instinctively, he rifles through his pockets for a phone, knowing no solution other than to get help. There's isn't one there and he has to consider for a second before checking Yoongi's pockets that he can reach easily, hoping against hope. Bingo. It doesn't feel right to take from someone who's unconscious but he feels lucky there's one at all. Ha, lucky. What a weird concept, he thinks, as he taps around for saved contacts and realizes there are none. Yoongi deleted them all from his phone. Unable to spare the emotional wherewithal to wonder why, he dials Namjoon, glad that one of the three numbers (his own, his mom's, his leader's) he has memorized is basically about to save his life. Namjoon picks up right away, has been waiting, hoping, for a call (especially when he tried calling Hoseok and found his phone buzzing on the nightstand, still plugged into the charger) and Hoseok feels a surge of relief even with his eyes fixed on Yoongi's motionless body.