YOONGI POV:

"Hyung if you want to rest, then rest. I'm here for both of you." Hobi whispers to me, gazing at me over (Y/N)'s sleeping form, meeting my tired eyes with his own attentive and alert ones.

I shake my head, eyes drifting from Hobi's soft gaze to brush a hand over (Y/N)'s cheek, slightly warm and rosy from the shared body heat between her and Hobi. I couldn't bring myself to tuck her between the two of us more securely, more closely. Didn't feel as if I deserved that right until I'd made things right. Mates didn't hurt each other. And yet I had.

"Hyung it's not your fault. She's been emotionally and physically drained, you noticed and we didn't. How do you think all of us are feeling right now?" Hobi asks, voice soft and underlined with his own resentment and hurt.

I reach out to squeeze the side of his hip.

"Our sweet mate's learnt to hide a little too well. And I pushed for an answer. Don't be carrying blame on yourself Hobi." I say gently, letting some of that calm reassurance for my mates seep out under my touch.

None of them needed to be feeling bad. Not when they'd caught the tail end of a very hurtful conversation, where they'd been plunged into the deep end without warning.

This was on me.

Just me.

He relaxes a bit, his body shifting close towards (Y/N), leaning over her as he moves his face forward.

"You can't be carrying blame either hyung. This is something we deal with together. All eight of us. And besides...I know (Y/N) doesn't hold anything against you." he says with certainty.

I look into his eyes, see the crimson promise in them.

Find myself helplessly leaning towards them, towards that optimism he gives off. 

"You really think so...you really think she won't want me away from her?" I ask.

His smile is both pained and reassuring.

"I know so hyung." He reassures.

I lean forward to brush my lips to his, a soft touch of lips, seeking that reassurance and him giving it.

And when we lean back, I shift a bit closer to (Y/N), the sides of our bodies brushing, my hand going to rest close to her, not fully touching but no longer being able to bear the distance either.

I'd stay until she woke. I'd stay until we talked it out. Properly this time. 

I don't know how long passes, don't know at what exact time Hobi leans away for a book before settling down again, don't know what the others are doing and where they are save for the fact that they'd left the three of us with comforting words whispered and light pecks.

They were certain everything would work out. Even if they were hurting too, hurting that our baby mate was suffering and we didn't pry or push, they were still certain that it would be fine.

That this was something we'd learn from and grow past.

And silently I watch her sleep, my body gravitating closer, finding relief in the way there's nothing but calm being emitted by her, nothing but rest. Resting properly and without waking up with a cold sweat. Resting without hurting.

How much had she been hurting whenever she murmured it was just work stress? How many tears had she hidden and dismissed as cold sweat?

And how much more had she been planning to hide until she couldn't no more?

-----

It's the feeling of distress and hurt that has my head rising up with alarm from the pillow, my body which had been curved close to (Y/N) straightening up as I try to figure out what's happening.

My eyes immediately drift over Hobi's relaxed frame, see the way his head lifts from the book he'd been holding to shoot me an inquisitive look. He was fine.

And then my eyes fall to (Y/N). To her sleeping figure that despite being still and curled close to Hobi, is radiating hurt and pain, a strong emotional wave of distress that grows stronger as seconds slip by. Her face is not being disturbed in sleep, or scrunched up with her pain, the sleep charm working its magic on her, but I knew she was having a nightmare. Knew it from the way her stillness was tied into her dream self being petrified and unable to move, knew it with an aching certainty when tears began to seep out from under shut eyelids, silent tears as her eyelids flutter, trying to wake up, trying to push the nightmare away but both the charm and the nightmare keeps her from escaping.

I jerk close, body tugged forward by the force of her distress, more noticeable and amplified to me at the same time that Hobi turns, a frown on his face, book hastily set aside as his hand goes to cup (Y/N)'s cheek.

"What's wrong hyung?" he asks, voice soft and level.

"She's having a nightmare, Hobi can't you lessen the sleep charm's potency? We need to get her to wake up." I say with urgency, rising up to kneel in front of her, hand gently tapping her cheek, fingers brushing away fallen tears.

Tears that continue to seep out in quick succession, hot warm tears that roll down her cheeks, small distressed pained sounds that are muffled, repressed low in her throat.

It aches to see her hurting, aches that even in her sleep she's trying to hide away the pain, trying to hide it from herself.

It makes me feel infinitely worse for not handling things well earlier, for unintentionally making her feel like her time, her years of coping could be dismissed. I felt like a failure of a mate and that feeling had only grown from the moment I felt the sheer agony in the car and the way she'd shrunk away from the others, staggering away with so much pain and raw vulnerability.

I knew I'd messed up, so, so badly. Knew that even if the conversation had stemmed from her hiding her hurt from us as mates, I'd been the one to push her into that state of panic, I'd been the one who'd made her feelings and thoughts spiral.

"Hobi please!" I bite out, tears pricking with the intensity of her emotions crashing into me, at my own sinking feelings of despair as a mate.

"Hyung I can't. I've lessened it, but I can't force her body to wake up." Hobi says, voice both resigned and defeated but equally hurting.

I shake my head.

"(Y/N) baby wake up. Please...please wake up sweetheart." I sob, feeling her fear resonate through the bond so sharply, so painfully it makes me feel physically winded, makes me feel like I've been given a sharp blow to the gut, lungs tight.

I couldn't bear to see her trapped within her nightmare, I needed her to get up, I need to alleviate her hurt.

And unconsciously I begin emitting soothing pheromones, something that happens by that deep driven instinctual need to protect her, to keep her calm even as I continue to try wake her, even as the pained sounds quieten.

"(Y/N), darling girl it's a nightmare, it's not real. Can you open your eyes?" Hobi murmurs.

And it's a few long moments that stretch on unbearably when the feelings snap, bursting out as if spilling over, a dam bursting and her eyes snap open, chest heaving as she draws in air, large heavy inhales as if she hadn't been able to breathe, as if something had been preventing air from entering her lungs.

Her eyes are a dark crimson, almost swallowing up the pupils and are blank and unseeing, a sight that petrifies me before her eyes are fluttering shut, until she's blinking several times and turning her head to take in her surroundings.

Her body relaxes when she realises she's in her room, when that moment of realisation sinks in that she's safe, head turning away from Hobi to turn to me.

I still as those crimson eyes turn to me, come to rest on me. A slow blink, damp eyelashes parting as she peers at me.

Still.

And then in a hesitant, tentative gesture her face softens, crumpling as she sniffles and her hands that slowly move towards me still, hovering uncertainly.

"Oppa...can we...can I hold you?" with a voice so troubled, so pleading and hopeful that my soul yearns, yearns as I move close to her, closing that distance.

"Please." 

(Y/N) POV:

Waking is abrupt. As if one moment I exist, trap and crushed under Chul's body and the next tugged free, yanked away from the weight that pins me down and suddenly able to breathe.

But this time the nightmare had been different. Slightly so.

This time it had been a look of feral pleasure looking down at me, this time Chul had been delighted as he crooned 'Yoongi' with those vicious lips, leaning in close.

And it was then that I'd felt sick, sick to my stomach, a nausea that made my skin crawl and tingle, made me want to scrub at it until that layer of skin was gone, until I could no longer feel the press of his body on mine, or rather Yoongi oppa's, until I could no longer feel his breath brush across my face as he spoke, as he murmured to be a 'good toy and hold still'.

It was different. It was the worst nightmare I'd had, felt the clawing need to get him away, to get my mate safely away. And yet even as I screamed, pleaded and writhed to be free, I couldn't move, I couldn't do anything. And because of that Yoongi oppa remained pinned, I felt his grief, his fear as Chul pushed more of his body into me, into Yoongi oppa.

It was disorienting because I could feel what Yoongi oppa was feeling but it was me looking up, it was me that Chul was seeing as Yoongi oppa. It made my head spin and pound, made my mind scream and beg for me, for him. I didn't know anything except I wanted to be away from the weight, wanted to be free from it.

And it had been trapped under Chul that I felt soft gentle touches, of warmth brushing across my cheeks, of low voices slowly drawing me away, of taking me away from this feeling of helplessness.

And I focused on the words.

Focused on what the wind seemed to carry to me.

It's a nightmare, it's not real.

And slowly the darkness of the night swallowed Chul whole, took him away with a curl of it's arms spreading around him and lifting the weight away.

And then the darkness faded away, my eyes opened to a dimly lit room instead.

My room.

Safe.

The surroundings quickly become familiar and I see Hobi oppa's torso first when I turn, eyes rising to meet his, see the concern flickering in them.

I try to smile, but my lips tremble, make the frown deepen as he remains close, my eyes drift from the sight, sensing another mate close, turning to face Yoongi oppa, feeling my heart ache, feel my lungs shudder as I exhale, relief, so much relief.

It has my eyes stinging to see him unhurt, to see him not approaching, still and observing, as if frozen into place. Unsure where we stand after our argument.

But that argument for me is long forgotten, banished because of the nightmare, pushed aside because right now nothing matters more than knowing and feeling that he's okay.

"Oppa...can we...can I hold you?" I ask, settling on the first most instinctual need I had.

I hadn't known what I was going to ask until the words spilled out, until that consuming need had nudged the words out.

And watch with sheer relief at the way he hastily nods, body curving close towards my outstretched hands, carefully helping me sit up, upper torso curved against the frame slightly.

"Can you lie down?" I ask once his hands withdraw.

He looks slightly lost and confused.

"Like this." I say, guiding him down to rest on me, his head settling on my stomach and body pinning mine to the mattress, a grounding comforting weight as his body settles over mine.

His head rises from against my stomach to peer at me, eyes scanning me.

I give him a smile, wobbly and exhausted.

"Please. Just...just lie like this. It'll...it'll make me forget about the nightmare." I confess, opening up. Opening up because we'd argued about me shutting my hurts away, if they could share their pain, then...then so could I.

I had to at least try to.

Yoongi oppa's face shifts with understanding, softness pooling in the crimson eyes as he nods, settling down more securely, applying a bit more pressure so his body is comfortably pinning me down, keeping me grounded, keeping me covered with the protective layer his body becomes.

"What was the nightmare about?" Seokie asks from beside us, his hand going to card through Yoongi oppa's hair.

My own hands that had been reaching to brush over Yoongi oppa's hair, stop, hover.

"Talking things out, remember?" Yoongi oppa mumbles against my stomach, voice slightly vibrating against my torso.

I nod even if he doesn't lift his head.

"I don't want to..." I begin hesitantly, wondering whether to bring Chul's name up.

"Hurt me? Oh sweetheart mentioning that monster doesn't hurt anymore, not like it once did." Yoongi oppa says, turning his head to press his lips to my stomach, feeling the touch through my top.

He knows then.

"I dreamt about the alley. But...it was as if I was seeing through your body, as if you were the one who was trapped. And I kept trying to move, to get you to move but Chul was too strong. I couldn't get him off, I couldn't help...I'm sorry." I say, voice almost detached and monotonous if it hadn't been for the waver, if it hadn't been for the anguish that slipped in at the end.

Yoongi oppa's hands tighten on my waist, sliding to curve around my back to hug himself close to me at the same time that Hobi oppa's hand comes to squeeze my shoulder.

"Is that what you always see?" he asks, hand moving from my shoulder to brush reassuringly over the mating mark on my throat.

I shake my head, sighing with relief at the soft contentedness his touch brings, neck subconsciously arching and tilting to allow better access, to allow broader strokes of his thumb against the mark.

"It used to be the night my parents got murdered that I always used to see. Always the same nightmare of seeing it happen over and over. Then it turned to the alley. And today it was Yoongi oppa who was stuck, who was trapped." I say, sensing when their own emotions spike, feel it through the bond when it turns a searing white with hot fury, molten rage before just as quickly plunges into that hurt, that abyss of grief that it always did whenever any of my mates thought about that night in the alley.

"How have you even managed to keep that much pain away? So easily thought about not sharing that?" Hobi oppa asks, voice grieved, shifting close so his body forms a line of slight warmth, bracketing both me and Yoongi oppa, who silently listens, arms tightening.

"I didn't want to make Yoongi oppa be reminded of him. And I hate it when you all turn sad. It felt like an easy choice to make." I say, feigning nonchalance but failing.

Because it had been so, so hard.

So hard to wake up sobbing and tell whatever mate was with me in bed that it was a cold sweat, that my mind was racing and emotions were all over the place because of work stress. It was so hard to not cave in and hide myself away into their arms, to find refuge from my mind and the world.

"It was a hard choice though. And we can tell." Yoongi oppa says, head curving up so he can peer at me, so I can see the way he just knows, the way his eyes tell that he can feel my hidden pain even as I speak.

My hands go to brush through his hair, content to keep his head against my stomach, is body pinning mine and wiping away the trace of the nightmare.

The feel of being pinned down now becoming warmth and safety, erasing that feeling of being trapped and confined.

"It felt right at least. Even if it was hard to do." I confess.

Then my hands drift down to brush over his shoulders, rubbing at them lightly.

"I'm sorry oppa. You wanted to help, wanted to know why I was hurting and hiding and I felt cornered." I add, fingers easing away the tension in his shoulders, easing out the stiffness by massaging lightly.

He shakes his head.

"I made you feel that way. I made you feel pushed into a corner. It was only natural that you pushed back. I'm sorry baby mate." He says, words murmured into my stomach.

I sigh, relieved that it's not as damning as I thought, not as unsalvageable as I'd feared when I'd rushed to put space between me and him, knowing and believing I didn't deserve that closeness, that comfort of him when I'd been the one to hurt him.

Relieved and drained.

Emotions felt so burdensome, so heavy, left me feeling so tired and overwhelmed with dealing with the large brunt of them. I couldn't even begin to imagine how it felt like to be Yoongi oppa, always constantly being emotionally stimulated, unwillingly experiencing echoes of others he passed by daily.

"Do you forgive me? For not sharing, for hiding it away?" I ask, turning to face Hobi oppa too, to see what his eyes reflect.

"Depends. Depends on if you'll try. Try to come to us, try to turn to us, lean on us. Try to remember you're not alone and we never want you feeling as if hurting alone is better." Hobi oppa says, voice both soft and yet slightly pleading. Asking me to give them a chance, to let them be the mates that can take care of me, that can be there for me.

I knew it. But a part of me still curved away from lessening that burden from my shoulders and letting someone help bear its brunt.

And another part of me knew that it wasn't healthy, wasn't the right way to go about things. 

But try I could.

Try I had to.

For the coven as a whole, for my mates and for myself.

"I'll try. I'll try my hardest Seokie." I promise.

His face softens, turns sweetly gentle and tender.

"Then you're forgiven." He replies easily.

And just like that the tension begins to dissipate.

Just like that, the bond lightens, lightens with the ease that flows between us.

And my eyes drift to Yoongi oppa, who still hasn't spoken, who's body continues to remain draped over mine, relaxed and at ease.

And his forgiveness doesn't need words.

His forgiveness comes easily and silently when he feeds later, drawing me onto his lap, head bent over my wrist that he draws close to his mouth, lips warm and so tender as he sucks at the blood, feeds from the pinpricks his fangs have made, easily piercing skin.

My hand goes back to his har, brushes through it and guides his head down, silently encouraging him to feed more, the suction of his mouth gets a bit stronger, tongue flicking against skin, the feeling of love and trust flowing between us as he feeds.

Forgiveness comes because his eyes are full of trust, love and equally as apologetic when his head rises, hand gripping my wrist lightly and drawing it down.

When his eyes meet mine I feel the forgiveness and apology in them, to do better as a mate, the mutual understanding in them. I know what I see because my own eyes hold the same.

And I know that this is just a small blip in the road, a small thing that we've moved past.

And know when I curve forward and rest my head against his shoulder, his arms winding around me, that this is home, this is belonging.

And this is where I can show the rawest version of myself.

Without hesitation.

And I'd try my hardest to never forget it.

(THERE WE GO! THE CONCLUSION TOWARDS THE ANGSTY THREE-PART SERIES THAT WAS SOMEHOW BORN OUT OF NOWHERE BUT NO REGRETS! GOTTA HAVE SOME ANGST! I'M A MAJOR SUCKER FOR IT...BUT EVEN I HAD NO INTENTION OR PLAN FOR IT TO GET LIKE THIS, TO HAVE THE FIRST ARGUMENT TO BE HAPPENING LIKE THIS! ANYWAYS...LET ME KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS AND THE REACTION TO THE RESOLUTION...WAS IT TOO QUICK? LIKED IT? NOT? CAN'T WAIT TO HEAR YOUR RESPONSE TO THIS CHAPTER!! AND FOR THE NEXT ONES TO COME...THE GENERAL VOTE FOR A MARRIAGE CHAPTER ARE A BIT MIXED- SOME WOULD PREFER FLASHBACK SCENES AND SOME PREFER AN ACTUAL MARRIAGE SCENE, BUT THEY'RE ALREADY MATED- IT'S THE BIGGEST FORM OF BEING BOUND...SO I'M NOT TOO SURE? LET ME KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS ON THAT TOO AS WELL! HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS CHAPTER, STAY SAFE AND TAKE CARE LOVELIES!)

Love isn't limited to one day, isn't a celebration of just 24 hours, love is infinite, endless and boundless, love cannot be contained or expressed justly only one day. And love doesn't always have to be romantic, the celebration of love should be of friends, of family, of the ones who hold meaning in your life. You don't need a significant other to define your worth, neither should you feel sad if you don't have that someone in your life. Everything happens with time, the people who are meant to come into your life will come when the time is right. Know that you're loved and know that someone is waiting for you, that you'll find them one day.

Borahae! 💜💜💜

PurpleQueenie <3