indulge - orphan_account - 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys (2024)

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

May 26, 1947

Tangy and coppery, reminiscent of a coin. That is the only way Jimin could describe the taste of blood. The initial bite into the skin, the sound of flesh ripping from muscle. No longer feeling that piece of your body. Your form completely numb, left only with the sensation of blood pooling around you and the metallic odour. So immensely satisfying.

It started when he was young, when he had a habit of biting his fingernails. He bit them nearly into his nail beds. He often ate his hair; his mother even having to get the hairballs removed from his stomach. This led to him biting at his wrists which led to tearing muscle from his arms. No one knew what to do with him, so they, with great happiness to be rid of him, sent Park Jimin to Silverwing Sanatorium.

“Park Jimin. Male.Entered April 26, 1947 – aged 20 years.Non-native of U.S. 5′8 feet high. Kind of Insanity when he entered – Self-cannibalism – Today his disposition same is quiet & obedient – but he is turbulent, vulgar and obscene when irritated, yet very clean about his person. All doctors are positioned near his wing, in case one of his episodes arise. Health rather good.” The nurse that was assigned to him often read aloud as she wrote, just so Jimin could understand that he was being watched at all times.

“Excuse me, Mrs?”

She peered through the bars with the same look of complete and utter disgust as she usually did and raised a brow,“May you please bring me a knife from the kitchen wing? It would perhaps make this a lot easier. Less messy, also!”

She rolled her eyes,“No, Jimin.”

“Alright. I’m sorry,” Jimin mumbled.

The cubicle of a cell seemed to encase him as he sat in the corner, as far from his waste bucket and puddle of blood as he could. It was times like these, when his brain returned to as normal as it could, that tortured him. When the memory of his flesh in his mouth and the voices that echoed through him.

The brief intervals of sanity that took him to the brink of his insanity.

He missed being outside of the asylum. He remembered the clusters of friends. He missed talking to others.“Nurse?”

“What do you want now, Jimin? I’m not bringing you a knife.”

He bit his lip,“May I please have a friend? Just one?”

She shook her head,“Mother Madeline told you already. You will not leave your cell until you get better. So until you stop eating at yourself like the lunatic that you are, you will receive your meals through the Gap and you will not interact with the other patients.”

Lunatic.But Jimin wasn’t a lunatic, he just followed His orders.

“It’s not me, it’s Him! I promise! If you let me out He will be silenced!”

She cackled,“And this is why you crazy f*ckers are locked up.”

Jimin curled into himself and let his tears stain the already blood-soaked jumpsuit he wore. All he wanted was for Mother to rock him like she used to.

Murmurs sound from outside and Jimin eyed the nurses who stood in clusters gossiping as they usually did.“He is finally here?”

“Yeah, and he is cute. If he wasn’t so f*cked up I would have dated him.”

Laughs echo off the stone walls, a sound that sounded so foreign after spending 3 months rotting in this cell.“He has got to be the craziest here right? Oh, the journalists will go mad over this!”

“Besideshom*o Comedenti over there, he might just very well top the patients. Do you think they would interview us because we are working in his wing?”

The nickname hom*o Comedenti which translates from latin to‘man eater’ was assigned to him as he entered Silverwing Sanatorium. Jimin didn’t like it all that much.

Footsteps pound down the marble and flashes are seen as they draw near.“Mr. Kim! Mr. Kim! Look this way, Mr. Kim!”

Guards are at either side of him as he stands in front of Park Jimin’s cell. The navy jumpsuit that clothed him didn’t look as it did on the other patients, the colour suited his complexion. Something about the glimmer in his dark eyes made Jimin smile. The man actually grinned at the cameras.

“Is it true that you are now to be called Insanis?”

His eyes meet Jimin’s and for a brief second, his mouth upturned in a slight smirk.

But his cuffed hands are being grabbed and pushed into the cell directly in front of him.“Looks like we’re neighbours,” He yells above the sound of chaos in the asylum.

Jimin smiles kindly at the stranger.

hom*o Comedenti and Insanis. What a strange pair.

Chapter 2: chapter 02

Chapter Text

June 1st, 1947

He felt the strike of belt against flesh as the nurse slammed it down on him, leaving a red mark across his behind. Surprisingly, in the month he had been here, he has gotten quite used to the frequent beatings. Not that he was a bad patient, of course. He just opened his ugly mouth too often. At least that’s what the nurses said.

“Now, you runt, apologise for what you did.” Jimin noticed that her voice sounded like that of a snake.

He smiled up at her,“I apologise, Mrs.”

She pursed her lips at him and frowned,“I don’t take kindly to sarcasm. Count back up to 10.”

Jimin wanted to tell her that he wasn’t actually being sarcastic, he was quite apologetic, but the pound of metal against his skin silenced him. The only sound that left his mouth was,“One.”

As he was guided - it seemed more like shoving him forward, but Nurse was certain she was guiding him - back to his cinder block cell, he heard a snigg*r from behind him. He slumped against the wall and tried to ignore the boy that was so obviously staring at him. A gasp sounded from Jimin when he tried to sit on the floor. The bruises would surely be there to stay for a few weeks. “How was it?”

Jimin tried so hard to avert his gaze, but his mouth moved by itself.“Painful. I don’t think I’d recommend it.”

“That sucks. I was thinking about trying it out.”

“Please don’t talk to me. I got a spanking because you were talking to me. I don’t think I could go through that again. It’s been 7 times just this week,” He bit into the skin around his finger until it bled.

Taehyung’s mouth turned up in a smile,“You’re right, I’m sorry. Go back to eating at yourself.”

Rosiness spread across Jimin’s cheeks and his finger left his mouth. Quietly, “I don’t eat myself.”

“Last time I checked, biting your flesh off constitutes to eating yourself.”

“Are you talking again, Jimin? Did you not learn from the beating you just took? Would you like a second taste of it?” The nurse was already fingering the keys at her pocket and Jimin hid his frightened eyes behind his bangs.

“It was me, actually.”

Her knuckles turned ivory in the iron grip she had on her hands,“I distinctly heardhisvoice.”

“Then I think you should be joining us in a cell soon enough,” Taehyung smiled co*ckily.

Jimin heard the loud exhale of the Nurse’s breath as she padded away into the cafeteria.“What just happened?”

Taehyung rested his feet up against his metal cot,“It seems as if the staff are too scared to handle me. Won’t come within 5 feet of me.”

“What did you do to get here, anyway? Why are people so afraid of you?”

He licked his lips and turned away from Jimin’s innocent gaze,“We’re all in the same wing. Nothing from before matters any more.”

And that was that, apparently. Because suddenly Taehyung had closed himself off and his stare at the wall was blank. Jimin bit into the soft flesh of his lips until he was sure he had torn through it.

The only time Jimin was allowed to walk freely away from his wing was to walk to Mother Madeline’s office to get spanked. But, with his wrists and ankles shackled, he was now entering the cafeteria for the first time since entering Silverwing Sanatorium. He saw pairs of eyes and even those without any turn to stare as he stepped inside.

“hom*o Comenditi, I saved you a seat.” The only voice besides the sound of faint classical music echoed throughout the hall. Jimin’s eyes met Taehyung’s from across the room and he couldn’t help the smile that was painted across of his face.

He grabbed for his tray of mush, sliding in opposite of him.“I appreciate you eating with me, but please don’t call me hom*o Comenditi. My name is Jimin.”

Taehyung shovelled the grey mass of who-knows-what into his mouth,“No worries. I’m just eager to see you eating something other than your own flesh,Jimin.”

“You talk to me like I’m crazy,” Jimin whined.

“I understand. Everyone’s got their own fetishes and if yours is seeing your own god damn skeleton, who am I to judge?”

He ignored the snide comment and look around the vast hall,“So many people are sitting alone.”

Taehyung nodded with an upset frown,“Sad, right? Crazy people should band together, y’know? Form a superhero unit. Have our own powers. The saddest version of heroes Earth has ever seen. That should be our motto.”

“Can you two please be quiet? f*ck, I’ve never heard a voice so annoying in my life. And trust me, I’ve had to listen to my girlfriend for 3 years.”

Jimin turned to find a head of mint hair glaring at him with eyes of coal.“I’m sorry. We won’t disturb you any more, Sir.”

The man raised an eyebrow,“Why are you being so nice? Aren’t you supposed to be the crazy one?”

“Yeah. He is a cannibal,” Taehyung said matter-of-factly.

Jimin expected the man to be disgusted, maybe even throw a punch, but all he did was shrug,“I light things on fire for fun. We all have our vices.”

“I’m Jimin,” He extended his hand but the man didn’t take it.

“I’m Yoongi. Call me Flame-o.”

Taehyung made a face,“Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Of course I’m f*cking joking, you idiot.”

Chapter 3: chapter 03

Chapter Text

June 3rd, 1947

He woke to the sound of shouting and the rattling of chains. Jeers coming from patients behind their bars as they watched Taehyung being knocked to his knees and cuffed. Jimin met Taehyung’s frenzied eyes as the nurses pushed him into the 8th wing.

“Don’t let them take me, Jimin. Please.”

Yet, Jimin tore his eyes away from his and picked at his nail until it bled.

The hall went quiet as the doors opened. Yoongi scoffed under his breath,“Look who the white rabbit dragged in.”

And to Jimin’s surprise, in strolled Taehyung; sporting two blossoming blue bruises on the sides of his temples. He walked as if the path on the way to get the grey mush they liked to call food was a red carpet. Yoongi laughed as Taehyung waved royally to the patients who stared.

“Hello, Flame Freak. You too, Coward.”

Jimin averted his gaze and stabbed at his food,“What was I supposed to do? Yell for them to let you go so I could be dragged away with you?”

He could see the flame burning behind Taehyung’s eyes,“That’s what friends are for, aren’t they? Not letting the other do something alone?”

“We aren’t friends,” Jimin whispered.

Taehyung snigg*red and for a second, Jimin was scared of what he would do next. “Alright.”

And then it was silent as the three attempted to down the unidentified ingredients. The tension was palpable.

Yoongi eyed the two and then smiled, “Anyway, how was everyone’s day?”

“Incredible. Joyous. Never been better,” Taehyung mocked.

“What did they do to you?”

“What do you care? You aren’t my friend anyway, right?”

Jimin locked his jaw,“That doesn’t mean I don’t care.”

Taehyung looked him over and his mouth upturned in a smile,“You haven’t been eating at yourself it seems. I only see a few scabs. I’m proud of you, Coward.”

Jimin’s cheek’s blazed red as he ignored the snide nickname. He was quite proud of himself, too.“Thank you.”

The bell that signalled the end of lunch sounded and the patients hobbled out on their cuffed feet. It was now Visiting Hours.

The dark eyes of the woman in front of him rattled Jimin to the core. Something tugged on his insides as if someone had plucked on a string inside of him. Her dark hair that fell above her shoulders reminded him of the moments he would find her in the kitchen, flour coating it. Tears prickled the lining of his eyes.

“I haven’t done anything in a few days, Mom.”

She smiled sadly and lifted her hand to the glass that was settled between them,“I’m glad.”

His hand clawed at the screen,“That’s it, right? I’m allowed to leave, right? I’m not crazy so I can leave you can take me home and cook me some of your food, right?”

His mother’s eyes left his and so did her hand,“It’s not that simple, baby.”

“But it is! If you just tell Sister Madeline-”

“No, Jimin! I will not and that is enough.”

Jimin bit his lip until he tasted the familiar metallic,“Why don’t you love me?”

And then Mother grabbed for her clutch and met his eyes,“Because you make it hard for me, Jimin. You weren’t made to be loved.”

When she left, he felt empty. She was right, though.

To his left, Jimin saw a man with sterling silver hair with his forehead resting against the glass, meeting the man on the other side. He recognised the man from his wing; they called him Namjoon. The other man’s features were angelic and soft bangs fell across his forehead. They looked at each other like his mother and father used to.

And, yes, Jimin’s Mother was right. People like Jimin were not meant to love or be loved because he was chaos. He was a stormy sea. He was the merging of men on a battlefield. He was a hurricane. He was afraid and he was unloved, but Jimin knew that the ocean that the storm leaves in its wake is beautiful. The field after a war is blooming with red and legacy. A hurricane’s damage brings a new start. He may be chaos but he was beautiful.

Chapter 4: chapter 04

Chapter Text

June 4th, 1947

The burly nurse slid a bean sized bar of soap through the Gap,“Scrub up.”

He was then pushed by two pairs of hands through the hallway in cuffed feet until he reached a wide set of wooden doors, groan’s sounding from behind. When Jimin entered he was met with the eyes of all of the patient’s and, unfortunately, their bare bodies.

But Jimin spotted Taehyung from across the room, where he was waving at him madly, and, with great hesitance, chose the shower next to him.

The water was cold when it hit his skin but Jimin had grown used to it and Taehyung stared at him as he lathered soap across of the crimson stains on his skin,“How are you not cold? It’s like the f*cking North Pole in here.”

“Guess I’ve been here too long.”

And Taehyung smirked,“You wanna escape with me?”

Jimin’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped,“Are you serious?”

Laughing,“No, you idiot.” Jimin wasn’t sure if he was sad or relieved.

He could feel Taehyung’s eyes on his body and felt his shoulder’s hunch on instinct, he was now conscious of the tears in his skin and the gaping wounds all over his body. But, Jimin looked into Taehyung’s eyes and saw a blazing fire,“Don’t hide yourself, ever. Do you hear me?”

Jimin felt his heart flutter at his words,“Okay.”

And suddenly there was an awkward silence that hung over the air. Jimin snuck a look at Taehyung as he washed his hair, staring at the way he would comb his fingers through it.“Would you like to take a picture?”

He felt his ears tint red as he whipped his head back around and Taehyung cackled.“You’re allowed to look, Jimin. I’m not shy.” Jimin rolled his eyes,“You think I don’t know that?”

Taehyung spread his arms wide and raised an eyebrow,“Come on. Look at my junk.”

Jimin gasped,“No!”

“Come on! I’ve already seen yours and I must say, I’m impressed. I wasn’t expecting much.”

Jimin shoved him while giggling,“You’re out of your mind.”

“Aren’t we all?” He said with a grin on his face.

The pair was surprised that the guards haven’t sent them for a punishment for the amount of conversation that was ensuing around the wash room. But you can bet that they took full advantage of it,“How do you still have abs after nearly 5 months here? I’ve been here for a week and I think my whole stomach has become concave.”

“I’m bored in my cell most of the time and my therapist told me once to find something to distract myself when the urge comes on. So I guess exercising is one of the only pastimes I have.”

Taehyung nodded, impressed.“Gym junkie by day, cannibal by night. Sounds like one of those sh*tty drive-in films they play to high schooler’s that f*ck in the back seat, not watching the movie.”

“You’re so weird, Tae.”

It was as if he was surprised by his new nickname, because his eyes widened and then his mouth formed a small ‘o’. Jimin had never seen Taehyung flustered before,“You can’t call me by a nickname! Now I have to think of one for you and I’m not creative! Jim? Jimmy? Jimbo? Jimmo-tron?”

Their laughs echoed through the tiled room like a melody. But the two hadn’t noticed the inmate across from them with the caved in skull gaping at them. The man raised a stocky finger at them and raised his voice so the patient’s could hear,“You two are-are hom*osexual!”

They both exchanged glances and as they were about to argue that they were not, they heard a distinct British accent.“Johnny, I know you’re rounding 90 years old,” He knocked on his scalp,“And you really don’t have room for a brain because of that deformity, but men are allowed to compliment each other. It doesn’t mean they want to suck each other’s dicks.”

Yoongi, to their left, guffawed and clutched at his heart.

“Well, he get’s right to the point,” Taehyung shrugged.

The boy looked around their age and wore a bright smile that nearly blinded Jimin. He hadn’t seen a genuine beam like that in so long, he actually felt a tug on his heart.“I’m Hoseok.”

Taehyung and the new boy named Hoseok started speaking instantly and were already indulged in a conversation. The more Jimin stared at the patient, the more confused he was. How could a man that looked like sunshine be stuck in a Hell like this? He looked out of place - just like Taehyung.

“I was in a fatal car accident. I was in the car with my girlfriend and it was an icy road and she told me to slow down and I didn’t. I hit a car and killed a man and his unborn baby. I survived, which I shouldn’t have. They said I developed something called Foreign Accent Syndrome and now I’m British, apparently.”

And then Jimin thought to himself that even those that radiate the sun could be just as dark as him on the inside. That scared him.

“You two, what do you think you’re doing?” A shout sliced through the air and Hoseok and Taehyung raised their hands in innocence.“We weren’t doing anything, I promise.”

The guard pointed at Hoseok,“It was you wasn’t it, murderer.”

Hoseok looked at Taehyung and bit his lip,“It was.”

And before Taehyung could argue, the boy was being dragged out of the wash room and on Jimin’s way back to his cell, he swore he heard his cries from the 8th wing.

Chapter 5: chapter 05

Chapter Text

June 11th, 1947

Hoseok didn’t speak. He hasn’t spoken since they saw him last in the wash room. Jimin, Taehyung and Yoongi didn’t push him any further when they saw him enter the hall with bruises marring the left side of his face. He shivered as he lifted the fork to his mouth even though it was the hottest day that June has had so far. The shadow behind Hoseok’s eyes chilled Jimin to the core.

But it seemed as though not just Hoseok was strange today, because Yoongi sat hunched at the table shovelling forkfuls of the mystery meat into his mouth. Taehyung hadn’t spoken a word; a sign that something was wrong. Very, very wrong.

And it seemed as if someone behind them was thinking the same thing as Jimin.“Something is wrong.”

Four pairs of eyes turned to the man with argent hair and trembling fingers. Yoongi’s lips quaked as he muttered,“I know.”

“What’s going on? Why are you all like this?” Jimin voiced, worry evident in his tone.

Hoseok spoke, word’s low from the rawness of his throat.“Something isn’t right in the asylum today. We haven’t gotten our meds with our breakfast.”

And then Jimin noticed the small twitches his eye had been making since he first woke and he realised that they were right. The patient’s around them were on edge and Jimin eyed a woman from across the hall clinging to her table like if she let go, she would collapse into a heap.

How did Jimin not notice that the usual guards and nurses who stood in front of the exit’s were not there? How did he not notice that he hadn’t seen the staff all morning?

“What do you think happened, Namjoon?” Yoongi asked.

The boy that Yoongi called Namjoon bit his lip, face reddening. “I don’t know, but it must be serious.”

“I-I saw something last night.” Hoseok stuttered and suddenly everyone’s attention was on him. Namjoon even moved to sit beside Jimin. He wondered if Namjoon knew who he was or what he does. “I got moved to the cell blocks next to the 8th wing, you know the one’s next to Mother Madeline’s quarters? The one with the white padding that trips you out?” He got several nods from around the table.“Well, I saw some people move in and out of her room. I couldn’t see much since it was so late, but I think it has something to do with that.”

“Hopefully this means we can finally go home,” Jimin sighed.

“Taehyung?”

And for the first time this morning, Jimin looked to Taehyung and saw that he had his knees to his chest, rocking back and forth with his fingers to his temple, as if he was warding off something they couldn’t see. His whole body shook and his pupils were blown out so much so that his usually coffee-coloured eyes were the hue of coal.

“sh*t, sh*t, sh*t. Nurse! Nurse! f*ck, we need a nurse!” The shouts were left unheard as no patient turned an eye.

So, Namjoon and Hoseok gathered Taehyung in their arms and, as fast as they could holding his dead-weight, made a beeline for the nurse’s office. Jimin was frozen as he watched his friend being carried off, body limp in their arms.

Yoongi grasped Jimin’s wrist and tightened his grip,“He’ll be okay, Jimin. I promise.”

But something about the way Yoongi’s eyes shone gave Jimin the impression that not even he believed his own words.

When the bell rang, signalling guest hours, Namjoon and Hoseok assured Jimin that Taehyung was being taken care of and left him to sit in his cell alone.

He no longer went to see his Mother. He doubted she was ever there after their last meeting, anyway. He didn’t need her spiteful words after how his morning panned out.

So Jimin was left to sit with his own thoughts and he was surprised by his own reaction by the course of today’s events. Why was he so torn up about Taehyung’s episode? Why did this cause him to lose all hope? It was like an epiphany that Taehyung, the usually witty and charming man he was, was here for a reason. Jimin held him on such a high pedestal that he didn’t even realise that he was in here, just like himself.

Guest hours were over nearly as soon as they started and Namjoon, Yoongi and Hoseok smiled pitifully at him as they passed. All cell doors were automatically locked in unison and Jimin furrowed his brows in confusion. What was happening?

Suddenly, bars were being shaken around him and jeers and catcalls were being shouted. Pounding footsteps echoing off the tiled floor and figure’s wearing a burlap sack over their heads and jumpsuits that hung off their skinny frames were being shoved by guards across the hallway. Jimin counted 9 in total and each patient was forced onto their knees in front of each cell.

The man in front of Jimin’s knees shook as he knelt with his hands cuffed behind his back. He could see that the man’s fingers were intertwined behind him as he played with the wedding ring on his finger.

A click sounded and the double doors of the 7th wing opened and Jimin came close to the bars to see who had entered. His jaw hung as he saw a man with clean, slicked back hair and a crisp blazer hanging from his masculine form strutting down the centre of the narrow cellblock. He had a smirk pulling at the edges of his lips, but Jimin noticed the soft red under his swollen eyes.

The man buttoned up his sleeves as he walked and his polished shoes made faintclick click click’s when he passed Jimin and he noticed the soft, happy tune ofFrenesi by Artie Shawsounding from the radio in his hand. His footsteps stopped behind one of the patient’s who sat in the centre of the passageway, now shaking violently.

Before he spoke, he tapped his radio off and grinned brightly.“Hello, my name is Jungkook. Sadly, my mother passed away this morning due to some,” He smiled down at the line of kneeling men,“difficulties.”

“So, from this point on, I will be taking my mother’s job on as your new Commissioner.” Jungkook’s pointed gaze met Jimin’s and he felt his lung’s in his throat.

“And, as my first official duty as your Commissioner, I will be taking action against the difficultiesthat my mother allowed in this wretched establishment.”

The guard’s ripped away each of the 9 burlap sacks and Jimin met the frenzied eyes of a man with blood pouring from every crevice of his face. Jungkook smiled mockingly at the patient’s that quieted as they saw the gun’s pointed at the back of the kneeling men’s heads,“Take this as a warning. You dare to defy me,” The click of the safety.

Gun shots erupted and reverberated around the room. The back of the man’s blew off and bit’s of brain blasted onto Jimin’s face. A gaping hole, showcasing the bits of brain he had left, was all that was left. No sign of a face anymore. Crimson flooded the room and Jimin felt the surge of emotions inundate him. The little whispers echoing through his brain, telling him to just try a taste of that was stuck to his skin. Jungkook’s voice was all Jimin heard over the wail’s of the patient’s.

“This could be you.”

Chapter 6: chapter 06

Chapter Text

June 12th, 1947

Taehyung smiled as he saw Jimin across the hall, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes. His legs quaked as he made his way over to their table and placed his tray down softly,“Hey.”

Namjoon rubbed his back,“Welcome back.”

Jimin quirked his lips up at him in pity and Yoongi gave a fleeting pat on the palm of his hand.“You’re alright now?”

Taehyung looked around the table and rolled his eyes dramatically.“Stop treating me like a wounded animal. I’m fine.”

Although he didn’t want the pity, Jimin couldn’t help it. Feeling Taehyung’s normally solid presence turn weak and frail shook him. But, so did the sight of 9 dead bodies lying in front of his cell.

“So you heard about what happened?”

“How could I not? The guy had his voice playing through every speaker in the asylum,” It was now Taehyung’s turn to look to Jimin with sympathy.“I’m sorry you had to see that.”

The tips of Jimin’s ears tinted pink.“I’ve never seen someone die in front of me.”

Taehyung reached across the table and grabbed his small hand in his big one’s. Yoongi and Hoseok had a hint of a grin painted onto their faces as they watched the two and Jimin reddened further, taking his hand from him and wiping them against the pants of his jumpsuit.

Jimin thought he saw Taehyung’s smile fall.

“Do you think this guy is going to be worse than Sister Madeline?” Tae asked.

Hoseok chuckled,“The first day he shoots 9 patients in the head. I think he may be a little dangerous, don’t you think?”

Jimin caught Namjoon biting his lip, cutting into it with sharpened canines. He met his gaze from across the across the room and saw a man with raven hair and a wicked grin standing on top of the second floor balcony that overlooked the hall. Jungkook grinned and tapped on his watch, stalking back off the balcony and into the hallways. Jimin swore he heard Namjoon gulp.

Back in his cell, Jimin was busy prying his rusted headboard loose from his small, blood-stained cot.“Jimin, what do you think you’re doing in there?”

His nurse - he had found out her name was Carol - was staring at him with a gaze that could have cut him in half. Jimin smiled weakly at her, beads of sweat dripping from his forehead.“I want to do chin ups, ma’am.”

Carol cracked a knuckle and smirked at him,“And where will you be putting that? With what materials?”

“We’ll see. I’m quite the DIY expert!” Jimin beamed.

For the first time since he had been there, he saw Carol stiffen and move away from the bars of his cell, wide eyed. And then he heard the normal off-key singing and the whispers come to a halt. Click Click Click.

He saw Taehyung retreat into the corner of his cell when he the man came to a stop in front of Jimin, a dark smirk painting itself on his angular face.“Oh, Patient #384, what a pleasure it is to see you.”

The room was dark, save for a lamp that lit up Jungkook’s face ominously, casting the rest of the office in a sullen light. Panels on the walls made of hardwood covered the entirety of the wall. Jimin eyed the wall of books and noticed one of his favourites as a child. Jungkook’s eyes brightened as he saw where Jimin’s gaze had landed, “Ah, that is one of my favourite’s.” Strolling over, he rubbed the dirt from the spine and smiled. “Would you like it?”

Jimin’s jaw must have dropped because Jungkook chuckled and removed the novel, setting it on his desk, right in Jimin’s reach.

“You must wonder why I have brought you here today, Jimin.”

The use of his name surprised him, in the entirety he had been here, he had only been called by his real name by his friend’s in the asylum. Other than that, he was known as hom*o Comendenti and Patient #384.

Jimin nodded weakly and Jungkook continued,“I have seen you around the asylum and, how do I say this,” He stopped and eyed him almost pitifully.“You aren’t like the rest, are you?”

He didn’t know what he meant by that. Was he finally seeing what the others couldn’t? Could he tell that he wasn’t supposed to be here?“I’m not, I promise.”

Jungkook nodded and folded his hands on the oak desk in front of the two of them,“I can tell.”

Jimin felt his heart flutter, maybe after this he could go home. Maybe he could eat his Mother’s cooking again and she could comb his hair like she used to-

“And, because of this fact, I would like to enlist your help. Would you like to help me, Jimin?”

He nodded vigorously and Jungkook smiled a charming kind of grin and Jimin felt his lungs gasping for air.“As you may know from yesterday, my Mother has passed. I’m very sorry you had to witness the murders of those 9 patient’s, but I did what I had to do. It was a warning. Because my Mother was murdered by them.”

Jimin’s breath halted,“How can that be?”

“Security camera’s had been tampered with prior so our staff isn’t sure yet, unfortunately. But we had inside sources turn the patient’s names in. I then brought them into my custody and they admitted to their wrong doing’s. You see, Jimin? I am not the one you should blame.”

And Jimin felt himself believing the young man in front of him. He believed that he had done it for the justice of his Mother. He believed the pearly smile that graced his face. Yet, his mind had warning signal’s flashing in bright red.

“What does this have to do with me?”

Jungkook then picked the novel from his desk and played with the velvet cover.“Those 9 patient’s admitted to murdering them, right?” Jimin nodded slowly.“But, do you believe that those nutjob’s had the capacity to disable my camera’s and steal a key pass from one of the Nurse’s that led to my Mother’s chambers? I don’t think so.”

He then slid from his seat and stood behind Jimin, bent, whispering into his ear. Chills spread through his entire body when he heard the venom in his voice,“I would like you to speak to your friend, Patient #233, Kim Namjoon. He had something to do with my Mother’s murder and I would like you to be my ear. When he give’s you what I want, come back to my office and you will be rewarded.”

The book was placed onto his lap and Jimin was frozen to his seat as he looked into Jungkook’s cold eyes, reminiscent of a snake. And then it was like a switch being flicked because now he was staring at Jimin with a loping smile and warm eyes,“Jimin, you aren’t like the rest. I think you could help me and your friend. Don’t prove me wrong.”

And Jimin believed his kind face. He believed that he was doing this for the good of everyone admitted here. He believed that he would never hurt his friend. So, Jimin would do all he could for this young man standing in front of him and he would not prove him wrong.

Chapter 7: chapter 07

Chapter Text

June 12th, 1947

His paintbrush was unsteady in his calloused hands as it swirled around the blank canvas, smearing muddy yellow’s and blue’s in spirals. The hair’s of the brush were matted and stained in blood and Jimin giggled to himself; could they not even pay for proper equipment?

To his right, a woman with a tongue that was constantly poking out of her lips and eyes that were clouded over with white, painted a soft sunset. The grime in the orange didn’t cause blemishes in her work as it did Jimin’s. A haze of gold and salmon blurred together on top of soft blue’s in ripples, creating waves that billowed and broke against blackened rocks. It was utterly breathtaking.

But Namjoon’s quiet hum from beside him sent shiver’s down his spine, because, Jimin was about to betray him.

His usual sterling hair was messier than usual, as if he had been running his hand’s through it too often. Jimin noticed his eyes darting to the door every so often like Jungkook would burst through any minute and send him to the 8th wing. Jimin was just starting to become aware of just how guilty Namjoon seemed. It made what he was about to do less frightening, because he was just doing this for the justice Mother Madeline deserved, right?

“Namjoon.”

His head whipped around, eyes wide until he saw Jimin’s kind eyes and his own softened.“Yes?”

Jimin bit his lip and gestured to the guard standing in front of the room, eyeing the patient’s who bellowed and whimpered as they painted with disgust.“During dinner, we need to talk. In private.”

He saw Namjoon’s knuckle’s turn ivory on his grip on the paintbrush and palette as he whispered,“Alright.”

Seeing his broad form bent over the table near the jukebox at the back of the room, Jimin braced himself for what was to come. He walked past Taehyung, Yoongi and Hoseok without a glance and ignored their waves and jeers, making a beeline, with his eyes trained on the cement floor, for his table. Namjoon waited patiently with entwined hand’s and a leg that bounced wildly.

Jimin looked around at the empty tables to their sides and placed his tray opposite of him. Namjoon eyes him expectantly,“So?”

“How are you doing?” Jimin stuttered out, wanting to slam his head against the table from embarrassment.

“Uh, great? Why?” And there he was again, irises darting across the room and to the top of the balcony.

“Why are you doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“You keep looking around the room like someone will jump out and cart you off to the 8th wing.”

Namjoon’s feet continued it’s beat against the floor and his finger’s were splayed across the table, gripping so hard that Jimin was scared he may tear something.“Nothing is wrong, I’m fine.”

He rose from the table, but Jimin caught the sleeve of his jumpsuit and pulled him back down aggressively.“Tell me what you did.”

From the grip he had on his arm, Jimin could feel his skin turn clammy and his usually honey-toned skin turned pale.“I’ve done nothing.”

“It’s fine, Namjoon,” Jimin’s lips tilted in a soft smile that caused Namjoon’s heart to race.“You can trust me. I would never tell, you know that right? I’m not like them. You know that I would never cause you any trouble. I’ve seen you with that boy, the one that sees you at guest hours. He really is beautiful, you seem like you love him a lot.”

Namjoon’s eyes clouded and lined in silver as he muttered a quiet,“He is.”

“Imagine that I’m him, okay? You look utterly guilty with your tics, maybe once you tell somebody it will be like a weight lifted off of your shoulders?”

One lie after another, it was as if it was his natural tongue.

“I can’t tell you, Jimin.”

And Jimin’s heart sped and his blood boiled and he was sure he felt the vein in his neck popped as his nails dug into his palm, pooling blood on the surface.“You will tell me right now.”

“No.”

Jungkook wouldn’t have this. He wouldn’t. Jimin said he wouldn’t prove him wrong and Jungkook believed in him and put his faith in him. None other. He could not let this opportunity slip through his fingers like sand.

But suddenly, a whimper escaped the back of Namjoon’s throat and Jimin saw the tears that left tracks down his skin. He cried into his hands and Jimin smiled. Gasping, he rushed to his side and let him sob into his chest. He quieted him with soft shushes and caressed his hair.“It wasn’t my choice, Jimin. Please believe me.”

“I know it isn’t, dear. I know.”

“I just didn’t know what to do. They told me that they had a plan and they told me that they couldn’t do it without me, they put their faith in me. I couldn’t ruin that, you know?” Oh, Jimin knew.“They knew I stole thing’s and that’s why I’m here so they told me to sneak into the Nurse’s office and steal the key card for Mother Madeline’s room. So, I did what I had to. I had sex with the Nurse and then stole anything in reach.”

Jimin stopped rubbing his head, grip tightening on his neck.

“I didn’t know what to do. I knew what they planned and I never wanted it to happen because, even though we never thought so, Mother Madeline was good to us. So they said thank you and asked me to disable the camera’s. So I did. But, they kept asking for things and I couldn’t say no at that point. They would have had my head. They told me to do it that night. So I grabbed the razor that I had stolen from the Nurse’s office and cut into her like a roast beef. They all cheered and said I was a hero amongst Silverwing Sanitorium, so I kept going. I got out of there before anyone else, though. No one saw me.”

Jimin imagined Jungkook’s face as he found his mother’s dead body, carved into and bloodied on the bed and his face became pale.

“You won’t tell anybody right, Jimin? You can’t.” He had never seen such emotions on one’s face as he did Namjoon’s. So many feeling’s that reflected in his eye’s and it made Jimin want to bite his own skin off.

“I promise.”

Jimin thought he saw Namjoon narrow his eyes, but it was too quick to catch.

He had done it.

He had told Jungkook.

He had seen the flame in his eyes as he smiled, chirping,“Thank you, Jimin. I knew I could count on you.”

He had noticed the way his own heart expanded and his cheeks tinted a soft peach.

He had observed the way Jungkook strode to the surveillance camera on the corner of his desk and grinned.

But, now, with Namjoon sitting across from his with a smile widening across his face, telling stories from outside of the mental asylum, he now wished he had never opened his mouth.

Laugh’s echoed from the table and Hoseok downed his muddy water in one go, Taehyung expressing his disgust. Yoongi sat with his head in his hands, but had a small smile as he watched on at his wild friends.

Friends.

Jimin didn’t think he deserved that title.

“Flame Freak! How many thing’s in your house are burnt to a crisp?”

Yoongi shook his head as he narrowed his eyes at the younger boy,“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Jimin felt a tug at his sleeve and saw Namjoon standing above him, gesturing to move away from the table. So, he moved with him and saw Namjoon smile at him kindly,“I just want to say thank you, Jimin. You were right. I feel so much better now. Thank you for not judging me.” He enveloped him in a warm hug and Jimin felt his heart tug.“I think that you’re-”

The main door’s closed and Jimin saw Namjoon’s gaze focus and widen.“What is it?”

And then he turned and saw a man being wheeled across the cement in a rusted chair, head tilting over the handlebar and a foam escaping from the side of his mouth. His eyebrow quaked and his pupils were clear, staring into nothing. Jimin recognized him.

Namjoon shoved Jimin into the table to the side of them and stormed across the columns of tables, tears rushing in gushes down his face and shout’s calling,“Jin! Jin, please, no. God, no!”

The man that he had seen with Namjoon at guest hours. The man that Namjoon loved. He was now crippled, sitting in the middle of Silverwing Sanitorium’s hall. Namjoon shouting defeated cries into the air, shaking his lover’s head and crying into Jin’s jumpsuit.“This can’t be happening. You shouldn’t be here! Why are you here! Look at me, oh God, please look at me, baby!”

And Jimin heard a faint chuckle from above him and turned his head to find Jungkook watching the scene in front of him. All with a bright smile gracing his face. He found Jimin’s eyes and he could make out the word’s even from here. He felt goosebumps rise against his skin and his skin turned cold.

“Thank you.”

Chapter 8: chapter 08

Chapter Text

Chapter 9: chapter 09

Chapter Text

Chapter 10: chapter 10

Chapter Text

June 13th, 1947

The musty smell of blood and his own bile blanketed him in his cell. He sat in the far corner, as far from the bars caging him in as possible. Jimin had done it again. He had bitten through the muscles of his forearm, tearing off a section so deep he could see the faint outline of his bone.

It had been Jimin’s fault that Namjoon was in the 8^th wing, doubtlessly getting tortured. Or worse. Taehyung sat just across of him, rocking back and forth, eyes wide. Maybe there was something in the air that night, because Jimin heard the cries and sing-song voices muttering wildly to themselves all around him. The patients were going mad.

But, this time, no nurse was outside of Jimin’s cell, ready to cackle at the sight of his skin and tissue laid across the floor. No staff were outside at all. Why had Jungkook ordered them back to their cells? Why did the asylum seem isolated?

“They’ve gone.”

And then Jimin looked up to find Taehyung’s eyes staring through him, like they were set alight. “What do you mean?”

“They’ve left us here. No one is here, except the patient’s. Don’t you wonder why?”

“I have been.”

Taehyung had a lilt of a smile gracing his face, chilling Jimin to the bone. “We’re all going to die in here.”

“Don’t say that,” Jimin protested. But he couldn’t help thinking that Taehyung may be right.

The brown haired man stood, “I bet they didn’t even lock the cells. They don’t even care if we escape or not because they know we wouldn’t.”

“What do you mean?”

Taehyung tested the locks, and as if by magic, the bars rolled open. It was what Jimin had dreamed of ever since he got locked up, but now with Taehyung walking out with a wide grin, he felt the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. “It’s a trap.”

“And so what if it is?” He shouted, voice echoing across the marbled walls. “What are you going to do about it?” This time he was looking around the room as if he were talking to Jungkook himself. “Torture me? Lock me up in a cell? You’ve already done that.”

“Stop it, Tae.”

“Kill me? Is that what you’re going to do, huh? You’ve already killed my mind.” He looked to Jimin and smiled sadly. “Jimin, I have to get out of here. Its either you come out and be with me or you let me go.”

Let me go. Jimin wanted to tell Taehyung that he would never. That he would never forget his wide smile and the shine of his eyes. He wanted to tell him, but all he could say was, “I’m not coming, Tae.”

Jimin saw the flash of hurt in his eyes, the way his smile fell and how his breathing turned shallow. The bite of his lip. “Okay.”

And then Taehyung was gone.

And Jimin let him go.

It had been 3 hours since Taehyung walked away, since he left his cell. He was either outside in the fresh open air or cut open, bleeding out and eyes glassy.

Jimin tried not to think of the latter.

But maybe he was right. It wasn’t as if they could do anything worse than they already have. So what was the problem? Why hadn’t Jimin gone with his best friend? Why had he let Taehyung walk into a trap alone?

Or maybe he opened Hoseok and Yoongi’s cell and escaped with them. And, for a selfish second, he felt a dark envy whirl inside of him. But he shouldn’t be jealous, Jimin was the one that declined the offer. It was his own fault. Everything was his fault.

Taehyung was the only person that made him feel human. Like he was something rather than nothing. Like he was something other than his disorder. The only person that made him feel special. Now he was gone.

He didn’t know what urged him out of his place on the stone floor, but he was now shaking the bile off of the front of his navy jumpsuit and opening his cell door. Ripping off a piece of the fabric from his leg, he tied it around the wound on his arm as a makeshift tourniquet. He nearly slipped in the pool of his own blood as he waddled out the door, chained feet restricting the freedom of walking at a normal pace.

This was the first time no one had accompanied him as he walked down the dark hallway, patient’s howling at him behind their bars. Not one had escaped, though. Maybe they were smarter than he was. He noticed that Hoseok and Yoongi’s cell doors were open and empty. “At least he isn’t alone,” He murmured.

Jimin then continued his trek through the labyrinth of passages, eyeing the arrays of patient’s that laid on their cot or were pressed up against their barred prison. Some with their skin yellowing and teeth charcoal black, some with deformities that apparently labelled them clinically insane. Jimin wondered how he looked in their eyes.

The path in front of him was as dark as night, he never really knew where he was going, trusting his friends that had walked the same direction. The air grew stale, almost like it had been thinned. Jimin felt a shiver race down his back as he felt the chill of the breeze. As he walked further into the darkness, it was almost suffocating, his breath choking in his throat. It didn’t feel right. It felt so, so wrong.

And then the hallway stopped, a door in front of him. This was the 8^th wing. He knew because of the whimpers and bloodcurdling cries for help that sounded from behind the door. Jimin tested the give of the door, finding it turn in his grasp. What stopped him from pulling the door open was the pound of footsteps in front of him.

Flipping the blinds in front of the window open, he saw the 4 forms of his best friend’s racing toward him. So, Jimin opened the door wide and watched them make a beeline for the entryway. What sent shivers down Jimin’s spine, urging him away from the door were the silhouettes that chased behind them.

Eyes widening, Taehyung met his eyes and screamed, “Run.”

Chapter 11: chapter 11

Chapter Text

Jimin’s heart thudded against his chest, blood pressure spiking as he watched the scene unfold before him, frozen. His ears rang and the shouts being yelled torun weredrowned out, as if his head was being held beneath water. The figures chasing behind the four men pound against the tiles and Jimin’s hair stood on end as he observed the ferocity of their gaze.

It was as if their skin had been scalded by a hot iron, bulbous blisters covering the entirety of their skin, yellowing pus oozing from the wound. Red and hot, the moonlight that shone down onto their shedding skin caused Jimin to gag. They eyed their prey viciously, ready to consume anything in their path.

Jimin wondered if he looked the same as he tore into his own flesh.

“Run, you f*cking idiot!” Yoongi yells, blood leaking from the scratch mark that lined the right side of his neck.

And that’s all it took for Jimin to take off down the inky hallway, just narrowly avoiding impaling himself on the rusted pipes that poked from every angle. Breathy exhales and the pounding of footsteps against tiles were the only noise that sounded from the isolated asylum.

Taehyung shouted from just behind him, “Turn right at the next corner.”

Just as he turned, he felt the air change, thinning. The lowlit cells to each side at him stood still, ominous and cold. The rust travelled from the bars to the pipes that stuck from the wall, sharpened into points and a strange substance coating it that seemed all too familiar to Jimin. He stopped in his tracks as he saw a pearly grin illuminate the darkness in front of him. It reminded him of that story his mother read him as a child – Alice in Wonderland.

“Duck.”

And then four clean gunshots cut through the air, imbedding itself in its target. Jimin’s form shook as he covered his ears and closed his eyes tight, not strong enough to turn around.

“What the f*ck was that?” A familiar voice jeered, sending a flush of relief through Jimin.

Opening his eyes, he saw Jungkook step out from the darkness with teeth bared. His eyes were hard and glassy as he eyed the five men that cowered on the co*ckroach-infested tiles. Crimson lines were torn through his right eyebrow, travelling through his eyelid. Jimin wondered whether he was running from those things as well.

“Now, tell me,” Jungkook smiled. “Why you’re out of your cells.”

Taehyung’s expression turned sour, “Tell me why you and your staff ran while we had to sit in our cells, unprotected by these monsters.”

“These monsters, Mr. Kim, are nothing compared to those within these cell blocks, so I would watch your tone around me.” Jungkook fingered the safety of his pistol, click click click.

“What are they? We have a right to know,” Hoseok voiced.

The boy cackled, “Do you now? The crazy deserve to know now? I wasn’t aware that you had any rights. I mean, being inmates in a mental asylum and all.”

Yoongi’s voice was strong compared to the other men that lay, shaking. “What are you doing in the 8^th wing? What is so dangerous that they must be segregated from us? What made your staff leave? And, most importantly,” A sly grin, “Why are you still here, Jungkook.”

Jimin eyed Namjoon’s curled form that had turned porcelain in the moonlight, trembling and eyes glassy. “Tell us.”

Jungkook looked to Jimin, the creases between his brow stuttering, “It is nothing to worry about.”

“You’re f*cking full of it, aren’t you? Thinking you’re better than us because you sit in a position of power. You’re just as crazy as us, if not more. You’re a f*cking murderer; that’s what you are,” Taehyung seethed, tone laced with the hatred that swelled inside of him.

And then Jimin saw the vein pop in Jungkook’s temple as he crossed the room in just two strides, easily lifting Taehyung by the throat and slamming him against the metal poles. Whispering, “You know f*cking nothing about me. This is all your fault, isn’t it? You’re the craziest one here, aren’t you?”

Taehyung was quiet and Jungkook laughed lowly, smiling from ear to ear, “Yes. That’s what I thought. Crazy, just like your mother. You’re having an episode right now, aren’t you? What do I look like in your eyes, Insanis?” A chuckle. “Have I turned into a giant, my grip on your small frame strong? Is time slowing as we speak? Has this corridor just been elongated, stretching acres? You have nowhere to go now, Taehyung.”

And then Jimin noticed the glassiness of Taehyung’s eyes, the way his mouth pouted just slightly, saliva dripping down his chin. He had seen this before, in the hall when he had to be taken to the nurse.

“Do your friends know that you’re insane? That you suffer from a syndrome no one in our day and age have seen before? Oh, how my scientists would love to have your brain sitting on a tray in front of them. Be appreciative you still get to have a heart beating against your chest, boy.”

Jungkook then turned to them, “The things you have just seen are nothing but a figment of your imaginations, Taehyung distorting them to make you see things you are not. There are no monsters here but the man I have in my hold.”

Jimin’s eyes turned to the forms that had two clean bullets through their skull and wondered how that could be, how Taehyung could cause them to see images they were not. His mother also told him stories of Salem. Maybe Taehyung could be a witch.

“Leave.”

And Jimin couldn’t do anything but stand on his command. Jungkook dropped the boy to the floor and Jimin rushed to pick him up, he and Yoongi hooking his arms around his shoulders. Hoseok stumbled and attempted to lift Namjoon into his arms, “I can’t do it.”

Jungkook chuckled, “Leave him with me.”

Hoseok’s eyes widened, gazing down at Namjoon’s limp form. “You can’t do anything about it, Hobi, it’s okay,” Jimin whispered.

With a solemn nod, Hoseok lead them through the hallways and back to their own cells, sitting Taehyung on his cot. Jimin winced at the gunshot that rung in the distance.

Chapter 12

Chapter Text

It was an odd scene: Two boys sitting cross legged at the back of the hall, arms folded in front of them, avoiding each other’s gaze. Taehyung’s fingers twitched inside of his hard clasp of his hand, his eyes darting around the room and never in Jimin’s direction. But Jimin couldn’t handle the thick air that hung over them, the tension all too palpable, “I don’t understand.”

A spasm of his eyebrow, “I don’t know how to make you understand.”

“Tell me the truth.”

And then Taehyung’s eyes met Jimin’s, pupils blown out so much so his eye was nothing but void blackness. “You would never want me if I told you.”

Jimin shivered. Something about his change of tone; from soft and frail, to this gruffness, so full of an emotion that Jimin couldn’t make out. “You don’t know that.”

“My mother doesn’t want me anymore. Isn’t she the one person who should love me no matter what?” Sadness, the only way Jimin could describe the pain that clouded his eyes. “How do I know you won’t leave me like she did?”

All he wanted to do was reach for his hand, clutch it in his own and tell him that he understood, that he knows how it feels to have no one, but all he said was, “You don’t know that, either.”

Taehyung looked back over the people that sat on the tables, eyeing his friends who sat solemn. “I have things that run under my skin. They kind of feel like bugs, flying insects. I feel them just at the back of my eye, down my forearms and in my lungs. I don’t know what they are, but they do something weird to my sight. Sometimes I’m normal, I’m happy. But when I don’t have my meds,” His voice trailed off and his voice strained, “I’m not me.”

“Like when I bite my skin? You feel like you don’t know what you’re doing until afterward?” Jimin questioned.

He shook his head, “I’m just not me. I don’t know how to explain it, not even doctors can.”

“What happens when you’re in an episode?”

Another spasm of his hand, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

So, Jimin clutched Taehyung’s hand in his own and felt the warmness that radiated from his touch. He could feel Taehyung all around him, could feel his forest-like scent cloak him and he felt the electricity as he rubbed a thumb over Taehyung’s palm. “I can help you, Tae. Let me help you.”

And Jimin’s heart pulsed against his ribs in tenfold as he caught Taehyung’s gaze, intense and fiery. Bright and full of the ferocity of fire. It was Taehyung. “You think so?”

“I’ll try my best.”

And so Taehyung took a deep breath and told him. He told him everything, his grip on Jimin’s hand tightening as his story drew on.

“I don’t know why it was so sudden, but I started complaining about my vision on my seventh birthday, I complained about my migraines. I told my mother that the car was parked too far, at least 5 kilometres when in actual fact it was parked just outside of the grocery store. My migraines worsened as my vision got worse. One night, just after I got home from a horror movie marathon with my best friend, I saw a monster. It was a squirrel the size of the willow tree it stood beside. It all went too fast to remember, like in fast forward, but I grabbed a stick on stabbed at it. I needed it to be gone. I woke up the next morning to the sound of a young girl’s scream as she stared down at the small squirrel with a stick poking from its chest.

“My parents questioned who would do such a thing on their front yard, so I stayed quiet. You need to understand I was just a boy; I was scared of the things I was seeing. So I tried to not talk about what I was seeing anymore. I watched my mother’s eyes grow to the size of saucers as she yelled at me and my father’s neck elongate to the size of a giraffes as he sat in front of the television drinking his alcohol silently. I tried. But when my dog’s muzzle grew so wide that as an 11-year-old boy, I thought it would eat me whole. So I did what I could and I was locked inside of my room for 1 month with a brick behind my door, only small trays being slid to me through the gap in the door.

“The reason why I’m here, I still don’t quite remember. Only small scenes play in my head as I remember that night: My standing beside my father’s bedside, him reaching for my hand and then red. Just red. Crimson, like the colour of cranberry juice. Then I was put here. They said I suffered from something called the Alice in Wonderland Syndrome. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Jimin. Help me.”

And Jimin felt his heart scramble in his chest as he digested the information, trying to dissect each memory in his head. His hand’s turned cold as he imagined Taehyung’s hand’s coated in blood. But hadn’t Jimin’s been covered in crimson just last night as he remembered Namjoon’s bloodcurdling scream? Were the two really so different?

Jimin couldn’t help Taehyung, he knew that. He also knew there was nothing he could say to him. So he acted on impulse and forgot about the looming fear of the guard’s that were so close, so close Jimin could nearly feel their stare, and he leaned into him.

Taehyung instantly relaxed into Jimin’s kiss, tilting slightly to gain better access. Jimin wondered how his lips were so soft and if his own tongue tasted like the blood he sucked from his forearm. It was a sense of calmness that cloaked the two as their lips moved against each other, a serenity he could never describe. Jimin began to drown in Taehyung’s pine and lemongrass scent, falling into the kiss completely. Falling into Taehyung.

But it was over all too soon as Jimin pulled away, standing and hand’s reaching for the boy with rosy cheeks in front of him, “We should head back.”

And Taehyung took his hand and his skin radiated and his lips were swollen. It was a sight that would be branded into his mind forever. “We should.”

All the while Jungkook stood, leaning across the balcony and watching on with a smile that looked reminiscent of the Cheshire Cat. He played them like a puppeteer, pulling at their strings and forming them into shapes that suited him. Jungkook wasn’t evil, nothing of the kind. But he was cunning, sly.

And everything was going according to plan.

When they made their way back to the table, they took it upon themselves to kneel in front of Jin and tell them of what occurred last night. They told him that Namjoon was gone.

Even though Jin was unresponsive and frail, eyes glassy, Jimin swore he saw his lips quiver.