— i want him
to smile again.

OCTOBER 18:
PARK JIMIN

==

it takes seven hours of taehyung's silence for jimin to finally corner him.

"you weren't yourself at that meeting this morning, tae."

the afternoon is thick with muggy rain, and they're collapsed onto taehyung's thick, soft bed (it's such a contrast to the old one back in that apartment jimin has grown so accustomed to that he double-takes). all the others, including jae, are busy in the living room discussing everything under the sun concerning abraxas. jimin should be there. he should. most of their problems are things he's created, anyway. but for now, he just wants to lay with his best friend and pretend everything is normal again. even when his words are far from.

"when have i ever been," comes the scoffed response.

"i mean you were...you looked almost scared, taehyung. you looked like you wanted to cry."

silence.

"i thought you wanted to do this, buddy. go after abraxas. save people, save—" jimin manages a laugh. "save the fuckin' world, if you will. but if you're having second thoughts, then that's okay, it's natural, we're still—"

"that's not it, jiminie." taehyung turns over onto his side, facing him, lips pursed into a thin line. "i need to do this, i'm not—i'm not abandoning that. my motive's just as strong as anyone else's."

rain patters against the window as jimin glances around. taehyung's room is expressive: neat, colorful, stacks of books and papers and posters, a shaggy rug and full closet. it hurts jimin. it hurts him to know that this life is better than taehyung's true one. he turns back to stare at taehyung, sore in the fact that the latter can't quite meet his eye. he's healthy now (and grown, too; the four years are evident in his features), but the exhaustion in his face has never seemed to leave him.

"then what is it?"

taehyung presses further into the mattress.

minute passes after minute into continued silence. eventually, jimin props himself onto one elbow and ventures a tentative smile.

"how about this," he says, quietly. "tell me one of your old concepts."

taehyung looks up.

"christ," he chuckles lowly, and jimin grins wider, "don't bring those up, those were crazy, chim."

"so? they were entertaining. some of them actually made a bit of sense."

"as if! remember that fish one? or the rabbits on the moon? no one believed those."

"yeah, well," says jimin, just a bit softer. "i still love to hear them. not many people are brave enough to stay creative these days, tae."

the light in taehyung's eyes is back (after all, all these years), and jimin feels his smile grow even bigger. it really feels like the old times. of course, now taehyung isn't being tormented by a monster every day, and he isn't taking false medication, but those times when they used to talk about stupid, pointless teenage shit under the stars: it really feels like that. maybe one day, jimin thinks with hope, their lives will be normal for once.

"i thought of a concept the other day," taehyung mutters. "it's—it's stupid, i mean it isn't stupid stupid, it's actually pretty clever, but—"

"i've seen you wear an over sized ketchup-bottle costume to seventh grade halloween, tae, you can't possibly embarrass me now."

ten minutes later and they're clutching their abdomens from waves of laughter—"oh my god, dude, your concepts haven't changed at all—", rolling across the bed with tears in the corners of their eyes. it feels nice. jimin has missed seeing taehyung's smile outside of that goddamn footage, missed hearing his laugh, missed seeing the crinkle of his eyes.

once their voices die down, taehyung finally meets his eyes and swallows audibly.

"these weeks have just been chaotic, i guess."

"i know all too well."

"i mean...i learned everything from my first seventeen years in the span of a few days. it took me a week to start even speaking to jae normally again. guess i was intent on being a brat." taehyung dryly laughs. "i didn't even know how to deal with it. what's the right way to respond? your caretaker of four years tells you that a monster is using your body to destroy things and it used to torture you as a kid, and what? how am i supposed to react to that?"

taehyung's words aren't pleading. they aren't desperate: just frustrated, tired, hurt. he's asking for an answer, not a resolution. he's asking for comfort.

"however you've reacted," murmurs jimin, "you've reacted well, taehyung. imagine what anyone else would do in your situation. imagine what i would do in your situation. i'd go crazy, right? completely flip out. i seriously don't know how you've managed to say sane at this."

"i'm not," taehyung cracks a smile. "i'm pretty sure i'm insane."

"guess it's good that the rest of us are too, huh?"

a moment of silence passes. then, taehyung speaks again.

"jae had to tell me my father died, chim."

jimin feels cotton on his tongue.

"just a few weeks ago. right when i was gaining my memories back. when it was safe to tell me. jae told me that my...'death'...had driven him to suicide. right?" his words quiver. "it's true, isn't it?"

"tae—"

"i remember things, jimin. i remember when dad came home late and, and he'd be exhausted. he looked awful. abraxas caused that. i caused that. all those medication bills, and every time i woke him up screaming and he couldn't get back to sleep: that was me." taehyung weakly grabs the sheets under him in his fingers. "he was working all these extra hours for treatment that wasn't even working. and i just made the whole family revolve around me. i made my own father fucking depressed, chim."

"it's not your fault."

"yeah," taehyung is trying so hard to keep his tears back, "sure, it's abraxas. it did this. it ruined everything. but my dad—he never got to live a good life, have a normal family because he was too focused on me, and my fucking problems, and my fucking hallucinations, and—"

"taehyung—"

"and he's dead, all because i left his life and he probably thought he had failed me or something, but i'm alive," his voice cracks, "i'm alive, jimin! how fair is that? how fair is it that i'm the one living, when my only connections to my family are my memories, and my father is dead from his own hands? how am i supposed to think that's okay? something to, to brush off?"

jimin doesn't know what to say. he tries to speak, but his tongue is sandpaper.

"how come," taehyung swallows, tries to stabilize himself, and falters. "how come some of us are allowed to go through so much shit, jimin? how is that fair?"

second. after moment. after minute.

"you're right. it isn't fair. it isn't."

jimin's eyes burn.

"do you know how miserable i was these past four years, taehyung? i was...christ, i was in a horrible position. and i thought that same thought so many fucking times, i can't even count it. i was so angry. i unleashed all that pent-up frustration to the people beside me; hell, random strangers. i was just a mean asshole, really. and all because it's unfair. it's so unfair and it's so horrible and i can't do a thing about it."

"chim," taehyung wipes his eye, "chim, you're not mean."

"not anymore. i know what that does to people." he remembers the sight of hurt seokjin. "i know what that does to me. but you know, taehyungie? we just live unfair, shitty lives. that's the way it works. i can't change the past. you can't, either. so all we can do is...make the future better, right?"

"i don't know how, though," taehyung is trembling, "i just—i want abraxas to stop, but i don't know how to do that."

"that's why we're figuring this out together, taehyungie. we're gonna get through this."

"...i think so, too."

taehyung takes a moment to level his breathing, chest rising and falling with his every hiccup, as jimin quietly sits next to him. maybe their talk hasn't fixed their situation. but it's definitely fixed them.

"you think i can finally talk to my mom?" says taehyung suddenly.

the question takes jimin aback, but only for a moment (he's been anticipating when taehyung would finally ask about it, but he wanted to leave it up to him). jimin slips out his phone from the pocket of his jeans and turns to taehyung.

"if you're ready to."

taehyung stares at the phone and swallows. "you've got her number, right?'

"had it the whole time. i still talk to her."

"you do?"

"every single week."

the smile on taehyung's face makes his heart hurt. "thank you."

it takes a moment for him to scroll through jimin's contacts and find his mother's name—kim eunji—, and when he does the air in his throat hitches. taehyung's thumb hovers over the illuminated screen, shaking slightly. "whenever you're ready," jimin breathes. "it's just your mom, after all."

"yeah," taehyung chuckles quietly. "just my mom..."

the phone buzzes against his ear once. twice. two more times. and then the line clicks.

"jimin? what is it, sweetie?"

"actually," he takes a breath, "it's taehyung, mom."

==

i needed to sneeze for like half this chapter
yo home bud started school again & im LIVIN but that means ill be a lil more busy
but!! i will be attempting to keep updating consistent sO
have a great day/night/morning/teatime/whtever bye folkS