Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Taehyung tried not to be bitter.

He’s actually was not bitter at all. Really.

How could anyone possibly be bitter about their mother remarrying to a scumbag and having said scumbag rip them from his childhood home and drag him across the country? The man couldn’t even wait two months until school ended, it just had to be as soon as possible.

After weeks of screaming and a few solid punches from his stepfather, Taehyung shut his mouth and miserably allowed it to happen.

They moved in officially on Saturday, and Taehyung hadn’t left his new room since they arrived. He’d obsessively rearranged it to be as close to his old one as possible. His mom walked in and cried when she saw what he’d done.

He knew she didn’t want to move. He also knew she had bruises like his own. He said nothing.

Monday finally rolled around and he was unwillingly forced to leave the comfort of his room for school. His mother snapped at him about his clothing- Taehyung, you can’t wear that on your first day! You want to make a good impression!- but he ignored it. It’s not really like he had anything nicer to put on anyway, especially when he needed something to cover that pesky bruise on his bicep from a few nights ago. His old blue jacket would have to do.

He shouldered his bookbag, filled with classroom basics, and headed out without a word.

After a quick stop by the main office of the school, Taehyung was directed to the student courtyard by a sweet old secretary. He thanked her halfheartedly and left in the direction she indicated. The schoolyard was frenzied with herds of students as Taehyung approached. No one spared him a second glance as he found an empty bench to sit on and put in his headphones.

For good measure, he pulled out his provided schedule and reviewed it. They’d transferred his classes from his old school to the best of their ability, so his class list looked mostly the same.

He read it once, twice, three times. It was practically seared into his memory once he finally folded it up and put it in his pocket for safekeeping. He leaned back and focused on the song blasting in his ears and the sky. He didn’t want to look around, but he didn’t want to wander down the rabbit hole of his thoughts. It was too dangerous of a game to play, especially when he had to make some sort of decent first impression on these strangers around him.

The bell rang eventually, and he followed the massive wave of students into the building at a distance. He didn’t want to be swept into a stampede when he didn’t know the territory.

He made his way to the algebra classroom, feeling blessed that the school had a simple layout so he could avoid asking directions.

He stepped into the classroom, and suddenly people were looking at him. Unlike in the courtyard, a newcomer would immediately be spotted in this small of a space. Taehyung felt dread pooling in his gut, but he shook it off and marched to the back where there was an empty desk calling to him. Maybe the teacher would be forgiving and not acknowledge him too much, or god forbid, make him stand up and greet everyone.

“Um, hello?”

Taehyung wanted to pretend that the greeting was meant for someone else, but suddenly there was a boy standing by his desk and he had no choice but to respond. He looked up and met the gaze of the boy standing above him.

“Hi,” Taehyung said. “Am I sitting in your seat? I can move, sorry.”

“No!” The boy held out a hand as he moved to stand. “I was told that you’re new, and as a member of the student greeter committee, it’s my job to show you around today.”

“Oh,” Was all he could think to say. He wanted to refuse, but deep down a part of him was thankful for the company. If he was to be honest, he liked people, but he’d learned not to trust them. “Okay.”

“I’m Baekhyun,” The boy moved around the desk to sit at the one next to him.

“Taehyung.”

“So, Taehyung,” Baekhyun said. “What brings you here?”

Ah, the dreaded question. How to answer that without sounding… pitiful.

“My mom got remarried,” Taehyung answered lightly. “The guy decided to pack us up and drag us here, so here I am.”

“Where are you from?”

“Daegu.”

“Cool!” Baekhyun said brightly.

When Taehyung didn’t offer any more information about himself, Baekhyun grabbed a slip of paper and scribbled his phone number on it.

“Text me if you’ve got any questions,” He explained, handing Taehyung the paper.

“Thanks,” Taehyung slipped it into the front of his binder sleeve, not really expecting to need it, but wanting to keep it just in case. Things always had a way to go wrong, and he wanted to have some sort of help if they did. “So, uh, you don’t really look my age.”

Baekhyun laughed, “Do I look old?” He joked. “I’m a 92-liner, if you must know. I just needed another math credit to graduate, so here I am in a class with you toddlers.”

Taehyung smiled and felt himself relax a little.

Taehyung decided Baekhyun was nicer than he had expected, and by the time their first class ended he was glad that he hadn’t refused the boy’s help.

Taehyung’s old class was slightly ahead of where this new class was in the algebra curriculum, so he mostly tuned it out. He looked around the classroom at the backs of people's’ heads and tried to judge them from that.

He wondered what snap judgements had been made about him when he’d walked in. His threadbare t-shirt,mold jacket, and worn jeans weren’t much of an impressive statement, but he wasn’t shy to admit that he was somewhat attractive. He had a healthy build, his skin looked nice, and he’d even brushed his hair this morning.

“Park Jimin!”

The teacher’s sharp voice rattled Taehyung from his unfocused state. She bared down on a boy who was gazing out the window, clearly not interested in what lecture the teacher was giving. The boy turned and looked at the teacher with an expression that Taehyung couldn’t see due to being at the back, but one that made the teacher snap in annoyance.

“If I catch you daydreaming one more time in my class, I’ll fail your next assignment,” She threatened harshly.

He shrugged.

“And,” The teacher saw his nonchalance at her first threat. “I’ll call your parents to come in for a meeting. I won’t be disrespected like this in my classroom!”

Even from behind, Taehyung saw the boy visibly flinch and he knew the teacher had crossed a line. Did she do it on purpose?

Park Jimin didn’t look out the window again.

Taehyung looked at back of the boy’s head sympathetically. He wasn’t a stranger to parental struggles, and he knew that the kid wouldn’t appreciate a complete stranger bringing it up. He looked at Baekhyun with a question in his eyes, but the other boy simply shook his head and turned his attention back to the teacher’s lesson.

After the class ended, he and Baekhyun parted ways with an invitation from Baekhyun to sit with him and his friends at lunch. Taehyung accepted the invitation genuinely and left for his next class.

On the way, he passed the boy from his algebra class, Park Jimin, standing with his arm looped around the waist of a taller dark haired boy, and overheard him retelling the event of the teacher calling him out in class with venom in his voice. Taehyung kept walking.

His next class was history, and he was forced to take notes because unlike his first class, he was behind in the course. He didn’t mind. Notetaking kept him from thinking. Too much thinking was dangerous, and he’d already done a lot today.

The two classes that followed were similar, and he only needed to text Baekhyun once for directions. His fourth class was in an obscure part of the school, but Baekhyun’s directions were easy enough to follow. There, he found himself partnered up with two boys, who introduced themselves as Jinhoo and Kuhn, for a project. Like Baekhyun, the two had been nice, but they asked the question which Taehyung managed to carefully dodge. They agreed that they wouldn’t need to spend extra time outside of class on the project as long as they applied themselves in class, which all three were willing to do.

Finally, the school’s lunch break rolled around and Taehyung immediately felt his phone buzz. Baekhyun had sent instructions to the cafeteria generally, as well as more specific guidance to the table at which he and his friends normally sat.

Taehyung went quickly and found Baekhyun quickly among the masses of students.

“Hey!” Baekhyun grabbed his arm. “You made it!”

Why wouldn’t he?

“You survived a whole half a day so far!” Baekhyun said.

Debatable. He felt like he was going to pass out and sleep for three days. And decided if he had to introduce himself one more time, he’d lay himself in his coffin and introduce himself to the devil.

He sat and stayed mostly quiet through lunch, though he felt a familiar warmth in his heart being around people laughing and playing around. He wanted to laugh, he wanted to goof off, he wanted to be himself again. But he couldn’t do it with these people.

Everything about them screamed how good life was for them. Their hair, their clothes, their smiles. Everyone in this school seemed to have the same positive attitude that the world seemed so determined to strip Taehyung of.

Everyone except…

Park Jimin passed their table, looking like he was trying to blend in with the floor. His eyes down, hood up, arms crossed. Taehyung watched as he ghosted his way to the corner of the cafeteria where a group of boys were waiting.

They all had on clothes like Taehyung. Old, worn clothes.

They all looked up when Park Jimin approached, and Taehyung tried to read their faces even from the considerable distance. They all looked tired, that much was clear. Unlike everyone at this school, they seemed rough around the edges.

They all looked like him.

“Who are they?” Taehyung spoke up suddenly, gesturing subtly to the six boys in the corner.

One of Baekhyun’s friends, Suho, shrugged.

“They keep to themselves,” He said with a slight frown. “They don’t speak to anyone outside their group.”

Another boy, Minseok, leaned in to join the conversation.

“I don’t know about them,” He put in quietly. “But if the gossip I hear from my parents is true, some of them have pretty messed up home lives. Not all of them, though. It’s Park Jimin’s parents I’ve heard about most. My mom’s friends with Kim Seokjin’s mom though, so I don’t know what his deal is.”

The words hit Taehyung harder than they should have, but he forced himself to give the acceptable neutral reaction and allowed himself to be eased out of the conversation once more.

Over the rest of his break, he found himself glancing over at the six boys in the corner more than he would like to admit.

He spotted a grisly looking purple bruise under the eye of one boy and he wondered where it came from. Looking past the bruise, the boy wasn't unattractive. In fact, Taehyung decided he was quite the opposite of unattractive, but he would rather be fought dead than staring so he looked elsewhere.

He felt an uncalled for flare of jealousy as one by one, the six boy’s barriers began to visibly drop. They tangled themselves to each other, until they reminded Taehyung of that forced group bonding exercise that teachers did where everyone grabbed someone else’s hand until everyone became one big knot. He became very aware of the barriers he was holding up. Why did he have to be like this?

He missed himself. He wanted to be back with his old friends at his old school, laughing and making absolute idiots of themselves like they always did. Hell, he’d suffer the consequences of after school detention for a whole year to throw one more bowl of noodles at Leo’s dumb face.

His life had turned around so fucking fast. One day his dad was kissing him on the cheek and Taehyung was jokingly slapping at him, and then the next his mother cried and there was too much room in his house for only two people. Three years later, his mom meets this dickbag and for some reason agrees to marry him. She’s not a gold digger, he’s certainly not rich enough to call her that, but there was undeniable proof that he was her only means of being able to provide for herself and her son. That was a year ago.

Three months into the marriage, the bruises began. Four months, the drinking increased.

“Hey, you okay?” Baekhyun nudged him, and looked at him with concern.

“Yeah,” Taehyung lied. “Just… just tired. It’s a lot to take in.”

They all nodded sympathetically.

“Some of our friends moved recently,” Someone said. Taehyung couldn’t remember his name, but he also couldn’t quite feel guilty. Maybe it was Chen? “We didn’t even get much warning about it. One of them just didn’t show up and that was how we found out at all. It sucked.”

“It must have been worse for you, though,” Another one- Kai? Maybe?- continued. “Being the one moving, and all.”

“I remember moving away from my old home,” The one he remembered was Lay spoke up. “It felt like I’d lost everything.”

“I lost everything way before I moved,” Taehyung replied automatically, then cursed himself once he realized what he’d just said.

Him and his big, stupid mouth.

“What?” Minseok asked. Suddenly, they were all looking at him intently and Taehyung really hated his big mouth.

“I, um,” Taehyung really didn’t want to talk about it. “My dad died four years ago, and my best friend committed suicide last year. My mom remarried and my stepdad... “

He’d said too much. Stop talking.

“... he’s just,” Here, he made a noncommittal waving gesture to finish his sentence.

“Oh,” Baekhyun said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Taehyung lied. “I’m starting fresh here, hopefully.”

When had he gotten so good at lying?

Baekhyun patted him sympathetically on the arm, unaware that Taehyung barely contained a flinch as his hand made contact with the sensitive bruise there. Taehyung felt sick, but he managed a smile and excused himself with a bullshit but believable I just want to walk the school before my next class.

“I can go with you if you want!” Baekhyun offered, moving to follow.

“No!” Taehyung said too fast, before realizing how hurtful could have sounded and amended. “It’s okay, you’re on break. I’ll text you if there’s trouble.”

Baekhyun and his friends all said goodbye and wished him luck, and he bolted out of the cafeteria and into the fresh air.

As soon as he was sure he was out of sight from the cafeteria's windows, he collapsed heavily against the wall. He cursed himself again for bringing up his tragic backstory in front of everyone. He was surprised that he managed to keep his big fucking mouth from spilling that maybe he and Leo had been more than friends.

He’d fucking brought up Leo. What the hell was wrong with him?

He closed his eyes and he could imagine two gravestones, his father’s and his boyfriend’s. He could feel the cold stone underneath his fingertips, and the crispness of the grass under his feet. He could remember the feeling of each carved letter in the exact way that he had traced them countless times.

He wanted to be there.

As morbid as it was, he liked visiting the cemetery. It always made him feel a little lighter to arrange flowers at the two gravestones. If he lied to himself well enough, sometimes he left feeling like maybe they were watching over him, keeping him safe. Sometimes he would sit and talk to his father. A onesided conversation, of course, but it felt right to Taehyung.

Here in this hellhole, he was too far for them to reach him. He felt so alone, though he knew he he had been alone so much longer than the two days he’d been here.

After some deep breathing and severe emotion repressing, Taehyung resigned himself to the rest of his school day. According to his schedule, he still had three classes left until he could finally be free… at least for today.

His next class was more of the same, but Taehyung was grateful for how familiar it felt. He even managed to snag a seat that was similar to the one in his old class.

Upon entering the classroom, he realized that he was a few minutes early and had no choice but to speak with the teacher. He approached the old man’s desk cautiously.

“Um, excuse me, sir?”

The man looked up from a paper he was reading.

“Ah, you must be the new student in this class,” The man said.

“Yes,” Taehyung bowed. “My name is Kim Taehyung. Thank you for teaching me, I’ll try my best.”

He hoped his politeness would get him on this man’s good side. Taehyung had a feeling (based on the impeccably organized state of his desk) that the man didn’t take kindly to nonsense.

“It’s a pleasure to have you in my class,” The man said. Taehyung knew he was lying. “However, you’re pretty young. Most of the other kids in here are seniors already. If you have any questions, please let me know. If you’re behind on the course, any one of my students should have the material to catch you up, or come see me before school.”

Taehyung nodded.

People were beginning to arrive and take their seats as Taehyung turned away from the teacher’s desk.

He felt even more alienated in this class. Not only was he new, but this was one of his more advanced level classes. Everyone around him was sure to be older and, judging by their appearances and the teacher’s earlier words, they were. He sighed and pulled out his notebook that was filled with his notes and bittersweet reminders of his home. The rest of the class slowly trickled in, and a few students stopped to introduce themselves or ask his name. He answered them as simply as he could and it seemed to satisfy them.

Just after the bell rang, one of the six boys from the corner of the cafeteria came striding in with his head down. It wasn’t Park Jimin from algebra, but he had been one of the boys who Park Jimin’s arms had been wound around. The boy’s hood was down over his forehead as he stalked in.

“Hood, Min,” The teacher snapped harshly. Apparently Taehyung had been right about this man having a bad side.

Even from a few feet away, Taehyung could sense hostility coming off the boy in waves as he stopped in front of a row of desks. With a glare directly at the teacher, the boy reached up and yanked his hood off aggressively, revealing a mop of straight bleached hair.

The kid took his seat, and there were no other incidents.

After school, Taehyung met up with Baekhyun in the courtyard to review his day, but he politely declined the older boy’s offer to hang out after school. He just wanted to go home.

Well, that was impossible.

He just wanted to settle for being alone and pretending he was back home.

The boys said goodbye and Taehyung trudged his way off campus towards his house.

“House” wasn’t quite right, he reminded himself. Rundown, cheap apartment complex was more accurate.

As he walked, he made his first real attempt to observe the city. He’d stayed at home for the last two days, and the walk this morning had been dark and he had still been half asleep. Now, he was awake and the daylight made his surroundings properly visible.

It was a mess.

Gray or faded buildings lined the blocks. Some were covered entirely with graffiti, though others had made attempts to cover the vandalism. He felt frustration building inside him as he took notice of the steady deterioration of the already disgusting city as he neared his apartment building.

His stepfather had uprooted them from their home, their house, in favor of what? A cheap and quaint apartment in a city hundreds of miles away, specifically a cheap and quaint apartment right in the center of what was clearly the bad side of town.

The smell of alcohol made his insides roll as he entered the apartment. He had hoped that his stepfather would be out when he returned so that he would have no chance of potentially engaging the man. But, no, not only was the man here, but he was also drinking.

Taehyung felt the bruise on his bicep as if his arm itself was having memories of his last encounter with his stepfather’s.

“Hi, dear,” His mom called from the kitchen area to his right as he tossed his bookbag down in the living area.

He mumbled out an acknowledgement to her greeting, but made no effort to return it.

All his senses were acutely aware of the threat somewhere in the house as he moved to remove his shoes and jacket as quickly as possible. He sat heavily on the floor to unlace his shoes.

“How was school?” His mother appeared in the kitchen doorway. He looked up at her.

She looked tired, Taehyung noticed first. Tired and so old. It wasn’t an insult, it was the truth. In the four years since her first husband had died, she had begun to age at a terrifying rate. Standing before Taehyung, she was little more than a shadow of the glowing motherly goddess in his early childhood memories.

“It was fine,” He answered.

“Did you make any new friends?” She sounded so tired. He wanted to cross the room and wrap her in a hug, but something like bitterness stopped him.

At the end of the day, she’d married the monster.

“Not really,” He said. “But a guy from my algebra class helped me out and I sat with him and his friends at lunch.”

She smiled but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“You’ll meet friends eventually,” She said. “My little Tae is always good at making people smile.”

He didn’t tell her that her little Tae was buried behind three walls of pain built over four years. He didn’t tell her that he didn’t want to meet people, let alone make them smile.

“Who’d wanna be friends with a fag like him?”

The words cut him to the core. Anger seared his insides, and it was clear that his mother saw it.

As his stepfather stumbled into the room from his bedroom, his mother made pleading eye contact with her son and shook her head. But Taehyung didn't want to let it go.

That bastard had no right to call him that. He wouldn't just sit and let it happen.

“What did you call me?” Taehyung stood slowly, kicking his shoes aside.

“Tae-” His mother squeaked, but was cut off.

“No,” Her husband snarled, drunkenness painfully obvious in his voice. Then he turned on Taehyung. “I called you what you are. You're filthy.”

“Shut UP!” Taehyung screamed.

He shouldn't retaliate. He shouldn't.

He wanted to.

He wanted to kill him.

Anger boiled in his chest, heated by hatred and offense.

“Please,” His mother squeaked, terrified.

It was enough to cut through his anger. He felt it sink back into the recesses of his mind as quickly as it had flooded to the surface.

He dropped his eyes to the floor and crossed the room to reach his bedroom door in the corner, but right as he reaches for the handle, he feels a hand grab the hood of his jacket.

His stepfather yanked him to the side roughly, and his back collided with the wall. He heard a shriek from his mother, but it sounded far away. Fear and anger rung in his ears as the drunken man pressed his forearm to Taehyung’s throat and pinned him to the wall.

“You don't tell me to shut up you little shit,” His mouth reeks of alcohol and Taehyung feels his stomach roll. “This is my house. I won't be disrespected in my home by some lowlife teenage brat!”

A fist collides with Taehyung’s stomach, but he can't double over with the man’s arm in the way. His entire body sags as he struggles to breathe.

That fucking hurt.

Another came. That was new. And painful.

There wasn't enough air in the entire world could satisfy Taehyung’s screaming lungs as he gasped like a fish on land, hands clawing wildly and weakly. He was dimly aware of someone screaming, but trying to get his eyesight to function properly seemed to take priority over hearing whoever it was.

There was another.

Pain exploded in his stomach again, riding the waves of agony from the first two.

He wanted to scream.

He wanted to beg.

He wanted to die.

Then he realized it was his mother screaming. His stepfather roughly dropped him after a particularly loud shriek of please don't!

Taehyung wanted to help his mother, but he felt the beginnings of a blackout settling in his mind and on the corners of his vision and numbness began to tickle at the ends of his nerves, so instead he scrambled the rest of the way to his room and locked the door.

The following morning, a gruesome mosaic of yellow, gray, purple, and blue across his stomach would greet him and nag at him all day. But he would never show it. He wouldn’t look broken, he wouldn’t look weak, he wouldn’t…

Fuck.

He would sob if it his entire torso didn’t fucking hurt from the action. His ragged breathing was already torturing the area enough, so he just lay there numbly and let the waves of panic and pain wash over him and let his mind do the only thing it could in the situation- detach.

He lay on the floor of his bedroom for what felt like an eternity, not quite registering his surroundings or the shouting and banging coming from another room. His thoughts became more akin to dreams, and as they disappeared he forgot them instantly.

He didn't really recall dragging himself across the floor and hoisting himself onto his bed, but it happened somehow.

He fell into a fitful sleep.

He dreamed about Leo.

He dreamed about his father.

He dreamed about six lost boys.

After four following days that seemed determined to drag themselves out as long as possible, the weekend finally rolled around.

Taehyung was so relieved he felt like crying, but he didn't. School was draining.

The pressure to keep up an outward calm appearance and make friends weighed on his shoulders. By Wednesday, he had felt like it weight would crush him into a million pieces. Shatter him to dust.

At home, people around town and at his school knew his story. They felt sympathetic and mostly left him to his own devices, but here… no one knew. And to tell would damn him to the label “troubled youth”. He kept his barriers up and his mouth shut.

Even after Baekhyun’s official duties as his appointed guide had ended, he and his friends still offered Taehyung a seat at their table. He accepted for lack of anything better to do.

They were so clean it made him sick. The biggest problems in their lives were how they'd been caught cheating on a test, or how someone’s parents had grounded them for the weekend.

He tried not to resent them. It wasn't their fault that Taehyung had been handed the short straw in life.

Often his eyes drifted to the six boys in the corner of the cafeteria, and his eyes often found the group around the school. He learned Park Jimin and Min Yoongi’s names quickly from his mutual classes with them, but the others were still a mystery. From what he’d observed, Min Yoongi had a bit of a temper when it came to the teacher in their class, but he never lashed out at another student. Park Jimin was completely silent in class, eyes often drifting to the window.

Friday night rolled around, and tensions were high in the small apartment.

Around midnight, Taehyung stormed out of the apartment and slammed the door hard to silence the screaming behind him. He used his jacket sleeve to nurse his bloody nose and cringed as it brushed his nose and he realized how sensitive it was.

He felt anger heavy in his veins, begging to be released, to be unleashed. His fingers itched for violence.

He wanted to kill that man so fucking bad it was physically painful.

He felt himself losing control to the anger, so he ran.

The weather was pleasant that night, neither cold nor hot, mimicking the way the seasons were fading from spring to summer. He still kept his jacket around him, more as a source of comfort that warmth.

He followed no particular route, half wishing that he would get lost to the point of being unable to return, and eventually the sidewalks led him to a bridge.

Taehyung was surprised how empty the bridge was, even at this time of night. He expected at least one two two cars to crawl by, but not a single vehicle was in sight.

He didn't really know where the bridge led, but he figured now was as good a time as any to find out. He breathed deeply as he walked and allowed the chill in the air to burn his lungs. It was too dark to see the water or even the distant horizon line, but he still looked out into the distance and tried to imagine what it looked like. The water was frighteningly far below, and Taehyung cringed at the thought of falling from this height.

He felt himself relax slowly, as if widening proximity with the apartment building made the man inside less of a problem. The pain in his nose had dulled to a small annoyance and the blood had stopped flowing for the moment. He wasn't really thinking at all. Thinking always made things worse. Instead, he walked in meditative silence for several minutes. He reached what he estimated to be a quarter of the length of the bridge when it happened. 

Something caught his eye in the middle of the bridge. In the dim streetlamp glow, he made out a white tee shirt and dark hair. He squinted and he felt his heart leap into his throat.

Whoever it was was over the railing, looking down into the blackness.

Taehyung didn't have time to think before he broke into a sprint. He closed the space between him and the person in record time, ears ringing and heart racing. He skidded to a halt a few feet from where the figure was balancing over the drop. The figure, then identifiable as a young man, didn't react. Taehyung wondered if he can even hear him, or if he's too lost in his own mind.

He calmed himself so he didn't spook the boy. He stepped carefully and closed the gap between him and the boy, and the new closeness revealed more of the boy’s features.

Park Jimin.

Taehyung felt his blood run cold as the realization hit him.

“Hey,” He said gently, placing his hands on the rail next to Park Jimin’s. The boy’s knuckles were white as he clung to the rail.

No response.

Now he really wanted to panic. His mind seemed to be fighting against him keeping composure, slamming him with images of Leo, of the graveyard, of his father. He shakes it all away.

All of that was in the past, what mattered was that he could stop someone from making the same mistake.

“You're Park Jimin,” Taehyung said. He inched his hand along the rail until their little fingers almost touched. “I'm Kim Taehyung. Do you want to talk?”

“No.”

It was hoarse, like he'd been crying. Taehyung wanted nothing more than to envelop him in a hug and not let go until the boy loved himself, but he didn't.

“Why are you doing this, Jimin?” Taehyung asked.

“I'm just…” Finally, Jimin looked at him. His eyes were red and tired and there was an ugly bruise on his cheek that made Taehyung cringe. “I know I'm useless. I don't want to be a burden anymore, but that's all I am! All I ever do is mess things up, and I don't want to hurt people anymore!”

Jimin heaved a shuddering breath and looked back down into the darkness below them.

“My family hates me,” He whispered. “They wouldn't miss me, no one would.”

I know no one will miss me. That's what the note said. That's what Leo had believed. Taehyung missed him so, so much. He missed him more than he could even begin to explain, but Leo had never known.

He thought of Jimin’s friends. They would miss him. They would wake up at night with his name on their lips, wondering what they could have done to help him.

“Before I moved here, someone I was really close swallowed an entire bottle of prescription pills,” Taehyung felt his chest constrict as, for the first time, he willingly spoke about Leo. “He was… well, he was my boyfriend. But no matter what I said or what our friends did, he always felt like no one would miss him. That no one would hurt if he went away.”

Jimin was looking at him, eyes wide. Taehyung dropped his eyes to his shaking hands and took an uneven breath.

“I miss him so fucking much,” He said lowly. “So much it hurts. It’s been a year now, but I don’t think anyone who was close to him is ever going to be truly over it. So don’t tell me that no one will miss you, okay? They will. Your friends, the ones you always sit with at lunch, they will.”

“My family…” Jimin sounded uncertain.

“Fuck them,” Taehyung insisted. He remembered what Minseok had said that first day. “If they don’t want you, then they’re not your family. Make your own. You don’t have to throw your life away because some assholes say you’re worthless. You’re not.”

I’m not.

Suddenly, Jimin lifted his hand off the railing and grabbed Taehyung’s wrist. His hands were freezing. Their eyes met again, Jimin’s wide and fearful, Taehyung’s pleading. Jimin’s eyes were brimming with tears and he hiccupped a sob.

“I don’t want to die,” He choked out.

“I know,” Taehyung placed his free hand on Jimin’s. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

They fell silent except for Jimin’s shuddering breaths and the occasional slosh of water below them. Taehyung kept his hand firmly latched around Jimin’s as both a precaution and a source of comfort. Despite the quiet moment, Taehyung’s heart was pounding in his chest. He wanted to get Jimin down soon so that he wouldn’t have a heart attack. But, he knew that he couldn’t rush the process, so he stayed silently with the other boy.

“Taehyung,” Jimin broke the silence. “What was his name?”

“Leo,” Taehyung responded instantly. “His name was Leo.”

“I’m sorry about him,” Jimin said.

“Yeah, me too,” Taehyung sighed. “Sometimes I wonder if there was something I could have done, if there was some ultimate act of love that I could have shown to prove that he was worth living.”

The silence returns, and it's clear even in the dim light that Jimin is thinking about Leo and what Taehyung said. It may have hurt like a bitch to talk about, but it was the right choice and Taehyung knew it. He even felt somewhat lighter after letting it out. Like the words had been weighing him down for a year and now they were in Jimin’s head instead of his own.

“They’ll miss you,” He said finally. “Not to be creepy, but I’ve seen them with you at school. They love you, maybe more than you know. And you love them too.”

Judging by the flash of emotions that crossed Jimin’s face, Taehyung guessed Jimin knew he right. Those five boys would be broken if he left, especially like this.

“I don’t want them to feel like… like I’m a burden,” Jimin sniffled.

“They’re your friends,” Taehyung said. “You’re not a burden.”

“Taehyung?”

“Jimin.”

“Thank you,” Jimin said shyly, and Taehyung knew that it was finally over.

Slowly, as if he weighed three times his size, Jimin dragged himself back over the railing, never letting go of Taehyung’s wrist. As soon as he was safe, Taehyung felt himself relax and his heart rate reduced to a normal speed.

Jimin reached forward and grabbed Taehyung into a hug. Taehyung felt his frame shaking and knew the smaller boy was crying, so he wrapped his arms around the boy’s torso and gently lowered both of them to the pavement.

They sat there for some time, long enough that a car eventually passed by without stopping or even giving the boys a second glance. Eventually, Jimin pulled away, rubbing his wet eyes with the back of his hand.

“I’m really sorry,” He whispered hoarsely.

“Don’t apologize.”

“But I-”

Taehyung put a finger over Jimin’s mouth and shook his head. Jimin relented and nodded, but didn’t look any less apologetic.

Taehyung, an idea springing to his head, stripped off his jacket and slung it around Jimin’s shaking shoulders. The jacket was old and threadbare, but he hoped that it could be a small source of comfort to the boy. Jimin mumbled a quiet thanks and pulled the jacket around him. Since Taehyung was the taller of the two, the jacket was slightly too big and hung around Jimin loosely.

Taehyung didn’t remember the bruises on his arms that would now be on display in the dim light until Jimin was narrowing his eyes at them. Taehyung instinctively curled in on himself, trying to hide the injuries.

“You too?” Jimin asked sadly. His words sounded so mournful and heavy that Taehyung wanted to cry. He nodded.

Jimin moved close to him and rested his head on his shoulder.

Why us?

“Is there someone I could call to get you?” Taehyung asked. “Here, give me your phone. I’ll call and explain-”

“No!” Jimin said. “I don’t want them to… to…”

“Jimin, they want to help you, I promise,” Taehyung said soothingly. “They won’t be angry or annoyed, they’ll probably be worried because they’re your friends. You shouldn’t keep this a secret.”

Jimin considered this, then pulled out his phone and handed it to him.

“Jin,” He whispered. “Will you call Seokjin?”

“Sure,” Taehyung opened the phone app and flipped through Jimin’s contacts. No Seokjin. He looked over at Jimin for some sort of direction and Jimin looked embarrassed.

“He's um…” Jimin blushed. “I forgot he's saved under ‘Mom’.”

He looked as if he was waiting for Taehyung to mock him, but Taehyung just laughed lightly.

“So he's that friend,” He joked, and scrolled back up the list to find Mom (which was right above another contact that said ‘Mother’ with a little skull emoji next to it, which he decided to ignore).

Seokjin (“Mom”) picked up on the third ring.

“Jimin?” The voice was a relaxing mid-range between baritone and soprano. The voice sounded tired, but not as if he had been asleep.

“Uh, hi. Seokjin?” Taehyung started. “My name’s Kim Taehyung. I'm calling from Jimin’s phone-”

“What happened?” The tiredness is gone from Seokjin’s voice as he cut Taehyung off. It stung the way it sounded like he was preparing for the worst.

“He's okay!” Taehyung said quickly. “I was walking on the bridge and he-”

“He WHAT?” Seokjin bellowed so loud that even Jimin flinched beside him. Apparently he'd finished Taehyung’s sentence in his head. Taehyung heard the sound of frantic movement on the other end. “You said the bridge, right?”

“Yeah, but I was going to take him about a block down to the coffee shop,” Taehyung explained. “Could you meet us there? I don't want him to walk home alone.”

“I don't want him walking home at all!” Seokjin responded forcefully. “He can stay at my house tonight, maybe forever. Fuck, why would he…”

He really is the mom friend. Taehyung could admit he was a little jealous.

“Can you put him on for me?” Seokjin asked.

“Yeah,” Taehyung said and held out the phone to Jimin.

“Hi hyung,” Jimin mumbled shyly. “I'm okay.”

A pause.

“Yes, I'm sure.”

Another pause.

“Don't tell them yet, please. I don’t want them to worry.”

Pause. A longer one. Taehyung saw Jimin’s eyes once again brimming with tears as he listened to whatever Seokjin’s voice was saying on the other end. Taehyung guessed it was some sort of half-relieved, half-panicked rant as Seokjin rushed around.

“I'm really sorry, hyung-”

Jimin flinched and Taehyung was able to hear a loud DON’T YOU DARE APOLOGIZE, PARK JIMIN! and he smiled. Seokjin dropped his voice again and silence fell on Taehyung's ears as another car rolled by.

“Yeah, we’ll meet you there. Bye, hyung.”

Jimin brushed the tears out of his eyes as he slid his phone back into his pocket.

“You weren't kidding about the mom thing,” Taehyung said, getting to his feet.

“You don't have to stay with me,” Jimin said. “You don't have to-”

“Yeah, but I want to,” Taehyung grabbed Jimin’s hand and pulled him up. “Plus, you look like you could use hot chocolate, and I definitely feel like I could use some.”

Ten minutes later, Taehyung thanked the barrista and took the two steaming cups of hot chocolate from her.

He’d forgotten how late it was when he’d suggested the cafe, but luckily the cafe was a 24-hour establishment. When he asked, the barrista said they mostly stayed open for the late night crowd. Her boss used to work from twelve to three before he followed his lifelong dream of opening a cafe, she explained, so he had some sympathy for the night owls and kept the business running through the dead hours.

He took them to the table at the far corner of the cafe where Jimin was curled up in one of the plush leather armchairs that had been set out as an alternative to a table and chair. Jimin looked small and tired with Taehyung’s oversized jacket around him in the oversized chair.

Once the more intense heat-of-the-moment emotions had worn off on their walk to the cafe, Jimin had begun to feel exhaustion settling in his bones. It had probably been a long and emotional day, so Taehyung understood.

Taehyung pushed one of the warm cups into Jimin’s hands, then dragged another nearby armchair so that it was touching Jimin’s.

Once they were settled, the barista excused herself and disappeared into the back to work on her homework. Judging by the pitying look she gave the two, Taehyung doubted homework was her only motive to get out of the room.

Jimin lifted the cup to his lips and took a slow sip, like it required all the energy he could muster to do so.

The silence that settled between them was comfortable as both boys sipped their drinks and mulled over their own thoughts.

According to the clock, Seokjin barged in six minutes later, panting like he’d run a marathon.

“Jimin?” He asked, eyes falling on the corner where Taehyung and Jimin were sitting.

Taehyung recognized him immediately as one of the five boys that he always saw with Jimin. He was tall and handsome, and not at all the boy that Taehyung had expected judging by the voice on the phone.

Jimin looked up sharply like he’d been suddenly dragged out of a deep rabbit hole of thoughts. He gave Seokjin a weak half smile.

“Hey, Jin-hyung,” He mumbled sleepily as Seokjin flew over.

“Jimin!” Seokjin sounded relieved.

With a great effort, Jimin peeled himself out of the armchair. As soon as he was upright, Seokjin crushed him in a hug that knocked the breath out of the boy.

“Hyung, this is Taehyung,” Jimin pulled himself out of the embrace and motioned to Taehyung who stood up. “He, um… saved me.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Taehyung said and extended his hand. He now knew that Seokjin was older, but it felt too forward to call him hyung without permission, so he tried to keep himself formal without honorifics.

Seokjin shook his hand and Taehyung pretended not to notice the way Seokjin’s eyes lingered a bit too long at the bruises decorating his extended arm. He gave Taehyung a melancholy look for a moment, before his smile returned.

“Thank you so much, Taehyung,” He said genuinely. “Really.”

“It’s nothing,” Taehyung said. “I just didn’t want to see anymore people get hurt like that.”

He realized how cryptic he sounded as soon as the words left his mouth, and Jimin caught his eye with a sympathetic look. Jimin knew, of course. He also seemed to know that Taehyung didn’t want to retell his past again, so he stepped in. He moved past Seokjin and threw his arms around Taehyung’s shoulders.

“Thank you,” He mumbled into Taehyung’s shoulder. “Thank you for everything.”

“I’ll see you at school, okay?” Taehyung said.

“Okay.”

They broke away and Jimin took Seokjin’s hand. They said goodbye to Taehyung and they left for Seokjin’s house.

He saw the barista peeking out from the back room and thanked her before leaving himself and heading back towards his apartment.

For the first time in a year, he didn’t feel guilty over Leo’s death. He wasn’t much for the idea of the afterlife, but he imagined that if Leo were watching, he’d be happy that Taehyung had saved someone from ending up like him.

Thankfully, the apartment was dark and quiet as he entered. He moved instinctively to remove his jacket, and realized that Jimin had left wearing it. Taehyung didn’t mind.

He crawled into bed, feeling exhaustion come crashing down as his head hit the pillow. He was asleep almost immediately.

He didn’t dream of Leo.

Two days later, Taehyung was sitting on an otherwise empty bench in the courtyard as always.

He scanned the courtyard for a familiar face. Jimin or, Yoongi or, Seokjin, or any one of Jimin’s friends whose names he was currently unaware of.

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't worried about the boy. He'd spent the day yesterday cursing the fact that neither he nor Jimin had thought to exchange phone numbers. Was Jimin okay? Would he be at school today?

Taehyung was mostly confident that the boy had not attempted again after their encounter, but the thought had crossed his mind.

He needed to know.

He was aware that he hardly knew Jimin or his friends, but he couldn't help but care just a little too much. Not only had he himself not wanted to see someone, but he still remembered the way the Jimin had flinched when their teacher had mentioned his parents and the way Jimin had called himself worthless. What Jimin had done or not done was not known to Taehyung and he didn't care, he only cared that he didn't want anyone to be hurt the way he had.

“Kim Taehyung?” A voice asked and he looked to his left as a familiar face with a shock of pink hair approached. Min Yoongi. Taehyung observed that his voice was deeper than he had expected, but then again so was his own.

He stood up quickly.

Yoongi shrugged in a way that signaled that he wanted Taehyung to follow, so he grabbed his bag and fell into step with him.

Walking next to him made him realize how short Yoongi was. The boy was small. How could someone fit that much apparent teen rebellion in such a small body? He recalled that Jimin was about the same height as Yoongi, but where Jimin’s height had made him seem especially youthful, Yoongi’s did no such thing. He walked with so much confidence and underlying hostility that no one would dare make a joke about his lacking stature. The way his white tee shirt hung loosely around him highlighted his thin frame, and his ripped and faded jeans showed off his legs in the best way. Though he was attractive, he had undereye bags and his face relaxed into a small frown that made it clear that he hadn’t slept well in a long time, and Taehyung wondered why.

Yoongi was wearing a jacket, and Taehyung thought about the bruising hidden under his jacket. Was Yoongi hiding something too? He hoped not, but he got a feeling there was something the boy didn't want people to see. He didn't ask.

Yoongi lead him away from the courtyard and back around the school. The parking lot stretched out in front of them, with a line of trees caging it in on the opposite side. Yoongi stepped down from the sidewalk and into the parking lot, off towards the treeline. They passed hordes of students, all headed in the opposite direction towards the school.

Taehyung wanted to be surprised that the boys holed up in the woods before school, but he wasn't. If he had a group of friends, he probably would have set up camp there before school too. It was close enough to the school to hear the morning bell and get to class on time, but far enough from the hustle and bustle of the school society.

“Listen,” Yoongi broke the silence. “About Jimin…”

“Is he okay?” Taehyung hadn't meant to interrupt, but after a whole day and two restless nights of worrying he couldn't help himself.

“Yeah,” Yoongi assured him. “He's good. I just wanted to say thanks, and all.”

Taehyung nodded, not sure how to respond.

“It's so fucking scary to think that… that he could have been gone,” Yoongi said. He looked down at his boots hitting the pavement. “You saved his life, and saved the others from a lot of pain that they don't need.”

“You'll stay close to him, right?” Taehyung asked quietly. “All of you?”

He sighed before continuing.

“He said that he was worthless to his family,” Taehyung said. “Said they hated him and stuff. I told him to make his own.”

He eyes Yoongi to make sure he had caught the unspoken weight behind the words. Yoongi was looking at him carefully. He'd gotten the message.

They reached the opposite end of the parking lot soon enough and crossed the short stretch of grass preceding the trees.

“They told me to find you and meet them in here,” Yoongi said, peering searchingly into the trees.

Yoongi crossed the threshold of the woods first, with Taehyung following behind. Damp pine needles and fallen leaves squished under their boots as Yoongi followed some sort of invisible path through the trees. They reached a small clearing that was close to the edge of the woods, but far enough not to be visible from the parking lot.

“Yoongi hyung!” A voice shouted. Five boys turned to look at the newcomers.

“Aish, don't yell! Don't you know what time it is?” Yoongi snapped, but a quirk of his lips told Taehyung that he wasn't really annoyed.

“Taehyung!” Another voice cried out. Taehyung picked out Jimin among the boys, and he felt as if a weight was being lifted from his chest.

Without pausing to think, he dropped his bag from his shoulders, rushed at the smaller boy, and barreled into him with a hug. Jimin grunted in surprise but returned the embrace. Some of Taehyung’s injuries ached in protest, but he suddenly couldn't find it in him to care.

It was strange. After months and years of locking this side of him away, the side that glowed with energy and longed for skinship, it seemed determined to return.

“You're okay!” Taehyung grinned as he pulled away. He grinned and it felt so good.

Why was this side of him coming out now after everything?

“Yeah,” Jimin said shyly.

“Well that was dramatic,” Yoongi joked behind them.

Right, there were other people there.

He turned and they were all looking at him. Seokjin had a soft smile on his face, Yoongi’s was amused.

“I'm Kim Taehyung,” He introduced himself. “Sophomore.”

The tallest boy of the group with sandy blond hair went next. “Kim Namjoon. Junior.”

The next boy was thin and had a mop of black hair. When he smiled, his whole aura seemed to light up. Taehyung liked it. “Jung Hoseok. Junior.”

The last introduction came from a boy who was around equal height with Taehyung but his boyish facial features made it obvious that he was younger. Rounded cheeks and the beginnings of a jawline that would soon become sharper than a murder’s knife, but at the moment betrayed the boy’s youth. Despite being significantly taller, he had draped himself over Yoongi’s back and wound his arms around his shoulders. Taehyung was surprised that Yoongi didn’t complain or shove the boy off. “Jeon Jungkook. Freshman.”

Just like the first day he'd seen him, the boy had a rough looking shiner on his cheek.

“You look like you had a fight,” Taehyung joked.

“You should see the other guys,” Jungkook said sarcastically with a shy smile.

The shyness about him surprised Taehyung. The boy had clearly been in a fight, and he wasn't afraid of being sarcastic around a stranger, but he was still oddly timid.

“Yoongi’s a junior,” Seokjin said. “I'm a senior. You can call us older than you hyung if you want. It's a bit early for that, but I feel like you've done enough to deserve it.”

“Thanks, hyung,” Taehyung said. “It's nice to meet you all.”

The bell rang in the distance, and every one of the boys’ faces fell.

“Damn it,” Yoongi muttered. “Can I just leave?”

“No you can't,” Seokjin said sternly. “And you, Jeon Jungkook, had better not skip any classes today.”

Jungkook huffed, but promised that he would.

The seven of them picked up their bags from the forest floor and started off towards the school.

When they reached the courtyard, the group split up to go to class. It was when he and Jimin began to walk in the same direction did he remember that their first class was together. They matched their strides and quickly made their way towards the algebra classroom.

They got strange looks from the teacher and students (Baekhyun in particular) when they entered together talking quietly and sat down at connected desks.

Halfway through class, Taehyung felt a slip of paper nudge his hand. He lifted his palm and Jimin slid the note under it. The teacher was too absorbed in her lesson to notice.

He unfolded the note and read the messy scrawl.

I still have your jacket.

He grabbed his pen and scribbled a reply.

It’s fine. Just bring it whenever.

A few minutes later, the slip was inched back over the desk to him.

Are you doing anything tonight?

Taehyung grabbed his pen and scribbled a no. 

A minute later the paper returned again.

We were wondering if you wanted to come with us. I don't know where we’re going tonight but you should come along. I’ll give you your jacket. This was accompanied by a little doodle.

Taehyung considered the offer. If he didn't join them, he would inevitably end up back at home, which was something he wanted to avoid as long as possible. At the same time, he hardly knew the group apart from their names.

Jimin must have seen the thoughts in his face, because another scrap of paper slid into his hand.

We want you to come. Please? Another doodle.

Taehyung felt a pleasant feeling fill his chest. They wanted him to come?

He scribbled a quick yes!!! on the paper and slipped it back to Jimin before returning his attention to the lecture, pretending not to notice the way Jimin lit up as he read the response.

Jimin seemed to be the complete opposite of the boy who he had observed from afar, from the boy he'd met on the bridge. That night, Jimin had seemed small and sheltered, but now he seemed bright and playful. He reminded Taehyung a lot of himself.

He hoped that this friendship would last. The connection he felt with the boys was strange and exciting. They were all alike, something that was both tragic and amazing to him.

In that moment, however, he didn’t know what lay ahead for them. He subtly nudged Jimin’s shoulder when the teacher was turned away and smiled to himself, excited for whatever plans that the other boys had in store.