Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Jungkook's ears have been ringing since that phone call. 

He can't get it to stop. It's been a constant low keening noise. He'd just been waiting for his sister to call and say she's getting in with the baby, but instead there was a stranger when Jungkook picked up, a low voice meant for delivering bad news. 

Jungkook got hospital. Got didn't make it. 

Got custody. 

“That can't be right,” Jimin tries to tell the suited person speaking to them. Jungkook can barely hear him through the ringing. “They have been out of contact for nearly ten years. They had just started speaking, what, less than year ago? She can't have assigned him custody.” 

“As I've been trying to explain,” the person says, semi-patiently, “Jeon Jungkook-ssi is her next of kin, so in the absence of a will explicitly stating someone else gets custody, he is legally the child's new guardian.” 

“Hyung,” Jungkook says, a little panicked, gripping the back of Jimin's shirt. “Hyung.” 

“I know,” Jimin says, squeezing his hand reassuringly. “Sit down for me, okay? I'll take care of this.” Jimin points him to a chair and Jungkook stumbles to it, feeling like he's underwater. He puts his head between his knees, covers his ears, but nothing stops the fucking buzzing. 

“Unscathed,” he hears Jimin tell Namjoon. “She had a scratch on her head, that's all. It's a miracle. The doctors are keeping her for monitoring, but she's been fine. Eating, sleeping, crying.” 

“Crying?” Jungkook pipes up, his own eyes swollen from it. 

Jimin looks at him with a gentle look of concern. “It's normal. She doesn't know where she is. She'll get used to it when she comes home.” 

Jungkook lowers his head. 

“Home, as in…” Namjoon says. 

“As in with Jungkook.” 

Jungkook breaks away from them. “I need to…” He points vaguely towards the bathroom and scrambles there. The water he splashes on his face does very little to clear his mind. The counter he grips onto is slippery. 

She has no next of kin. Jimin explained. Other than him, she has no other relatives. Their mother was the last, and she’s been gone for more than a year. 

Jungkook wouldn’t trust her with a baby, even if she was alive. 

So it’s either him or an institution, so there’s really no choice at all. 

He wipes his hands on the thin, flaky hospital paper. The texture is horrible. It makes him shiver, so he grabs into the soft fabric of his own shirt to replace it. 

He's going home with a baby. 

His home is a fucking pigsty when he walks in, baby in his arms. He hasn’t lifted a hand to tidy it up for at least a week now—he’s been getting home late at night because of a work deadline, heading straight to bed, so the mess had just grown and grown until it was more its house than Jungkook’s.  

He wants to put her down to sleep so he can clean, but he doesn't have a baby bed. This is a pull-out couch home, a game room instead of a guest room. There's more beer cans in his fridge than rolls of toilet paper in his bathroom. Surely that's not a child-friendly home. The broken outlets and the sharp corners, the slight mold growing over the shower–that's hostile. 

Fuck, he has so much work to do. 

He leaves her on her seat for the moment, eyes darting up to her every five seconds as he picks up the take-out containers from the coffee table. He shoves it all in a plastic bag. 

The noise wakes the baby up, and the shrill cry echoes all through the apartment. Jungkook rushes to her, scared she’ll somehow overturn her seat in her crying, and holds her. 

Her cries don’t stop. 

“What do you need, hm?” Jungkook mutters, rocking her the way he’s seen people do. “Are you hungry? Didn’t they just feed you before we left the hospital?” 

She cries and cries, and eventually Jungkook smells what’s wrong. It takes him way longer than it should to change the diaper; his hands feel giant and clumsy. “Is it too tight?” he mutters. “Did I…” 

He does it again, letting it come loose, but then she just pees again so they have to start all over. 

No one gets any sleep that first night. 

The crying gets so bad Jungkook's scared some neighbor will call the police. There's never noise from his apartment—even when he listens to music he does so with his noise canceling headphones, so it's not a stretch that someone might be alarmed by the sudden and constant wailing of a human baby. 

Eventually, she must exhaust herself into a short sleep. 

He feels out-of-his-body tired. He stares at her sleeping form in his arms and tries to feel her weight, her presence.

She’s only tiny; can fit in the crook of Jungkook’s arm so easily. She’s got big round cheeks and dark, dark hair sticking up in little tufts around her head. She’s dressed in one of the onesies they bought in a rush somewhere; Jimin had panic driven to a mall and just grabbed the purest basics, since this was a fucking emergency. That's where the bottle and the jars of baby food and the diapers all came from, too. 

The onesie is a little big on her. 

She's a whole creature, fully under Jungkook's charge. 

Jungkook's hardly fit to take care of himself. It took him nearly thirty years on this earth to understand himself enough to be able to coast over that survival line into sometimes living, and now here's a 8 kilo curveball.  

He starts to feel that tightening in his stomach, and he closes his eyes, thinking instead of Jimin grasping his hand the whole time they were at the hospital. 

Jimin takes care of the funeral, and it’s for the best, because Jungkook still feels like moving through thick fog. There's not anyone there other than them two and their friends, because Jungkook's sister lived on the other side of the country and he has no way of contacting anyone. 

On the one hand, it’s better. He doesn’t have to pretend to know her more than he did, or force grief he doesn’t feel; he just has to get through it and think about what to do. 

If this hadn't happened, he'd be just getting back from his lunch break right now. He'd go to the supermarket after work, just like every Friday, and he'd… he'd be getting to know his sister over dinner. 

Instead, here he is, dressed in formal black for her, her fussy daughter in his arms. 

What needs to be done is done. He only knows because Jimin seems calm and in control, so nothing must be going wrong in the proceedings. 

The baby needs feeding all the time. Jungkook keeps alert for the sounds of her discomfort. It's the first funeral either of them have been to. 

 He should be feeling sad, shouldn't he? Why isn't he crying? The baby isn't crying either. It's the first time since Jungkook's known her that she's stopped. It's all backwards. 

“Do you need a moment alone with her?” 

Jungkook's head breaks out of the water just enough to hear Jimin's voice. He’s always had this effect on him somehow, ever since they were young. 

What was his question? 

Moment alone. 

He doesn't know.

“I can take Hyun for a minute,” Jimin suggests, opening his arms for her, assuming maybe that's what Jungkook's hesitance was for. “To give you some time.”

Jungkook can only give a stiff nod. 

His arms feel locked-in and sore now she’s not in them. He doesn’t know what to do with them. He'd gotten used to her weight; he barely puts her down because all she does is cry. Taking a break from it feels nice, so he feels guilty over it, to add to the guilt of the detachment he feels. 

Moment alone. 

He stares at his sister's photo and wills himself to cry. That's what normal people would do. 

It doesn't come. 

There’s parts of his face everywhere in hers. They have the same mouth. The same eyes. 

It would feel awkward to stare like this if one of them weren't dead. 

He clears his throat. He absently considers that this is the closest he’ll ever get to speaking to his sister in person. 

He should cut to the chase, shouldn’t he. 

“I’ll take care of her,” he tells her, in the absence of something else to say. The dead don't have the patience for small talk, and neither does Jungkook. “So you don’t have to worry, okay? I don’t know how, but I’ll make it. I won’t let her…” He swallows hard. “She won’t end up like me. I promise you.” The lump in his throat is hard to breathe around. “I promise, Jisoo-yah. I never got to be your big brother, but I can take care of this for you. This one thing.” His eyes drift to the baby in Jimin's arms on the other side of the glass. “I’ll take care of her,” he repeats, and he means it with all his heart. 

He hopes that wherever his sister is, she can rest a little more peacefully after that. 

It's raining on the way back, because at least someone's keeping up with the formalities. A day like this should be gloomy and horrible, socks wet with gutter water. 

Jimin’s been quiet on the ride. It’s strange to be this silent in this car. They’re always talking or laughing or singing. Jungkook’s bluetooth automatically connected as soon as he came in, and he’d disconnected it in a panic, like god would strike him dead if cheery girlgroup music poured out of the speakers while they’re driving back from a funeral. 

“I’ll come check in on you both tomorrow after work, okay?” Jimin says as the car pulls up in front of Jungkook's building. 

Jungkook sighs, exhausted by the day, the ill-fitting grief. “Hyung. No. I can’t let you do that, okay? You’ve done so much already. Fucked up your whole week. Don’t think I don’t remember you were taking time off.” 

Jimin looks caught. “That’s not important.” 

“It is!” Jungkook gets out quickly, the rain hammering onto his back. The old suit exudes some kind of strange, dusty smell when the water touches it. The backpack with all the baby's stuff is cutting into his shoulders. “Besides, we need to find our routine.” He already has a bad habit of relying on Jimin too much; he should really learn to fucking deal by himself. “I need to get used to her. Figure things out.” 

Jimin's stopped the rain. He looks just as tired as Jungkook feels with the black fabric of the umbrella all around them. 

“Thanks,” Jungkook mutters. The baby is already making little frowny expressions now the motion of the car has stopped, so they’re moments away from a crying explosion. “I’ll go. I’ll call you when I can, okay?” 

Jimin hands him the umbrella with the world's least agreeing nod. 

“I'll hold onto this for you,” Jungkook says uselessly. 

The car slowly makes its way down the street, like Jimin’s looking back in case Jungkook regrets it. Jungkook lets him go with a weak wave.

And then there were two. 

The baby doesn’t like him. 

He’s sure of it. Why else would she cry any time he picks her up? Why else won’t she sleep when he’s around? 

Maybe he’s not father material and she can sense it. She’s sniffed him out, just days in. 

He doesn’t know if he is. He doesn’t know if he wants to be. 

He never thought he’d have a child at this age. His longest relationship lasted two years, and they never even thought to consider kids, even though her family had been vocal about wanting that for them since the beginning. 

Jungkook was always grateful to Mina for not being pushy on that one. She’d asked, once, after the third time her mother showed them cute baby pictures of the grandchildren of her church friends—

“Would you…I mean, would you want kids? In the…near future, let’s say? Just so that we know what to tell them next time.” 

He sensed from her nervousness she wanted a no, so he gave her one. 

The real answer was a lot more complicated than that. 

How could he even think about making a family when he never had one? How could he make a home for someone when no one showed him how? 

Yeah, he sometimes went to bed at night and dreamed of that picture perfect life with the beautiful spouse and the two and a half kids, but was that because he wanted it, or because that’s what the perfect family looks like? Isn’t it just another case of poor orphan Jungkook wanting something he could never have? A room of his own, a gaming console, the notion of unconditional, forever love.  

But how you can you explain that to someone who grew up celebrating both her birthdays and half-birthdays? Who had a giant graduation party with her entire extended family invited, her band of cousins she’d grown up with surprising her with handmade cakes and concert tickets and spa weekends just for the five of them. 

She would never get the kind of loneliness Jungkook grew up with. Grew around. It’s at the core of him, and he’s just done what he could to build around it. 

And now, he’s got a baby. 

It’s like someone just shoved him off a cliff into another universe, one where he’s expected to know what size diapers to buy, what to feed a one year old, what he’d supposed to expect from her. 

He’s spent so many nights on weirdly condescending websites geared exclusively towards young mothers trying to understand. The information floats in and out of his brain. Nothing really stays, except for the shrill sound of her crying which has become the constant soundtrack to his days, so he just leaves any tab that seems trustworthy open on his phone. 

Right now he’s shifting between three different baby food idea videos, trying to puzzle that out. 

Jungkook's relationship to food is fraught at best. With the work and the deadlines, he often just forgets to eat, forgets to shop, and take-out is the easy solution. Sometimes he forgoes meals all together even if he does feel hungry, because the moment’s passed or nothing feels right or even the idea of eating exhausts him.

But now the baby’s here he needs structure. He needs to keep to a schedule—hers—and cook for her and make sure he always is stocked up on all the essentials.

It’s more than overwhelming. Jungkook feels the pressure of it pile up. 

And through it all, there’s this one niggling thought that he can’t let go of. 

Why did she instantly love Jimin and can't stand him? What did she sense about him that's off? 

He's trained himself by now to stop that line of thought; that self-deprecating stream of lies. But he's too tired to put a lid on it now, too destabilized, too overwhelmed. 

The lights are always on because she cries when he turns them off. She won't sleep for more than a couple dozen minutes at a time, so he hasn't had a shower since before the funeral, and his hair is all stiff and greasy and he can’t stop noticing it.

Through it all, he tries to tell himself: she's his family. He's wished for a family his whole life, fervently then shamefully then secretly. Imagined it every time he closed his eyes at the facility. Not his mother that left him, no; he didn't have fantasies of her returning and apologising. She didn't want him, and she'd made that clear. He dreamt instead of strangers, a kind looking woman and a strong looking man, coming to pick him up. His real biological parents, come to find him. There's been a mistake, they'd say, with only love and hope in their eyes, and Jungkook would fall into their arms and they'd be a family. 

So the baby—Hyun, the baby, she's his family. His only blood family that remains in this world, and he doesn't know what to do with her. 

In the months since his sister contacted him, since she's suggested the idea of meeting up in person, he'd slowly prepared himself for being an uncle. Namjoon has a baby, and not that it's the same, but Jungkook thought of this like that. 

He had not been prepared to be a fucking father. Tasked with the enormous responsibility of keeping her alive, of teaching her how to live. 

Imagine that. Jungkook teaching someone how to live. 

how are you guys doing?? 

she's crying a lot

she quiets down during bath and feed time but that's it

I don't really know what to do 

can I call you? 

yes

There's really no concealing his exhaustion from Jimin. 

“So she won't stop?”

“No. No.”

“Have you tried singing to her? She liked that the other day. And rocking her? Walked around a little? Sometimes a walk at the park helps–”

“Hyung,” he says hopelessly, “I did. All of it. I did. She hates me. It's me, I'm the problem.”

“You're just adjusting. Both of you. It will take some time to get used to each other. It's just like any other relationship, Jungkook-ah.”

“It's not.”

“Yeah, okay, it's a bit different, but I mean you need to spend some quality time together. To bond. Not just food and walks.”

Jungkook sniffs. “Like what?” 

“Did you play with her?” 

“Not really.”

“Or read to her. Sing, like you do. You have a nice voice, she'll love it.”

“I don't know any kids songs.”

“I'll send you some. I'll look for them. Hm?” He sounds tentative and patient and too good for Jungkook. “You'll try?”

“I'll try.”

“Good. In the baby stuff bag I brought, there's a couple books for sure. We can get more, but let's start there, hm? You need to speak to her a lot so she can get used to your voice, narrate things you do. Shouldn’t be hard,” Jimin says with a smile, “you do that anyway.” 

Jungkook nods. “Alright.” 

“Sounds manageable?”

“I guess.”

“You guess?”

“I'll try.”

“Good boy,” Jimin says, and he sounds genuinely proud. “Let me know how it goes, okay? And if you need me to come by so you can have a break.”

After that, it takes no time at all for Jimin to show up uninvited with armfuls of stuff. 

“Hello!” 

Jungkook should have expected it, but he’s too tired to have predicted this. “Hey–what’s this?” 

Jimin’s carrying boxes from the elevator to the door. “Baby stuff.” 

“Huh? Did you order stuff again?” Guilt floods him instantly. “Hyung, I told you I would pay you back for the clothes and that you didn’t need to–” 

“Relax, I didn’t pay for any of this. My coworker is moving house and needed to get rid of all the baby stuff, so I said I’d take it off her hands.” He smiles, cheeks flushed from the effort of lugging all of this around. “She had a boy though, so it’s all very blue. We’ll have to start her gender education early.” 

Jungkook throws a look back at her. He’s gripped by fear and panic at the sight of her. Gender education. Fuck. 

“Did you manage to sleep?”

Jungkook laughs a little hysterically, rubbing his eyes until he sees stars. “When? Last night or the night before, or the night before? Either way, no.” 

“Okay,” Jimin closes the door with a push of the last box inside and comes closer to Jungkook. “Hey. Go have a nap. I’ll keep an eye on her.” 

“No, no,” Jungkook says—he lets Jimin take his hand for a long moment, because he gets pouty when he immediately pulls away, and then lets go to take a step back. “I’ll just…if you could just mind her for ten minutes while I shower?” 

“Sure thing.” He scans Jungkook's face, efficient in a way that comes from habit. “How do you feel about a hug right now?” 

Jungkook winces. “I am so gross.” 

“I don’t mind.” 

“Then…” He considers it, looking at the hand that was just caught in Jimin’s. “Then I want one, I think.” 

Jimin smiles. He grabs his hand again. He pulls. “Then come here.” 

Jungkook folds into him. He hopes Jimin wasn’t lying and he really doesn’t mind, because this feels good, so he hugs Jimin for a long time. They don’t do this often; Jimin’s the only person in the world Jungkook lets touch him this much. The panic abates, but only slightly. 

He tries to do quick, nervous about letting Hyun out of his sight. The water relaxes him, and he sits down on the bed to check his phone just for a minute, just in case…

When he wakes, the room is dark. His brain reconnects with reality and he realises he’s fallen asleep half-draped across the bed in his bathrobe. He moves to turn on the light and trips on something. 

It’s a crib. He scowls. “Hyung!” he yells, then remembers he should never yell with a baby in the house. He quickly puts some pants on and heads out, looking for Jimin. 

He finds him on the couch, the baby in his lap. He’s holding her arms, covering her face and cooing at her.

The baby is looking curiously at Jimin, who’s beaming back. “Hey, Jungkook-ah,” he says in the same tone he’s using for the peak-a-boo, “how did you sleep?” 

“Like I was in a coma,” he says, settling down next to them on the couch. The dishes are done, drying on the rack. There’s laundry being dried in the drier, and a little play-pen set up on the living room floor, along with a bunch of little toys on the coffee table. 

“How long was I out for? It got dark.” 

“Four hours or so.” 

Shit. “Why didn’t you wake me?” 

“Because I was busy!” He turns the baby around so he can have her back to his stomach, holding her securely. “Besides, we were fine. Bonding a little.” He smiles at Jungkook. “She’s a dream. She just cried a bit when she was hungry, and the rest of the time we’ve just been napping and playing.” 

Jungkook frowns. “Really?” Huh. “She cried all night with me. Maybe she exhausted herself.” 

Jimin looks at him all soft. “Did you rest?” 

“I think I have a headache.” 

“Drink some water. There’s dinner in the fridge.” 

Tears climb to Jungkook’s eyes. He tucks himself on Jimin’s side, head on his shoulder. “You didn’t have to.” 

“Shh,” Jimin kisses him on the head, “go eat.” 

“I don’t know if I’m hungry.” 

“Go eat anyway. Just a bit, now you have both hands to yourself. Go.” He squeezes Jungkook’s knee. Jungkook catches his hand and brings it to his mouth for a short kiss in thanks. His heart pounds a little as he does it, but he pulls himself away to the kitchen.

“Thank you for the crib.” 

“You’re welcome.” Jimin follows with the baby in his arms. She’s got a finger in her mouth, looking curiously around as if she hasn’t been in this space before. To be fair to her, Jungkook can’t remember if she has without crying. “It wasn’t hard to put together. I thought your room for now, instead of the game room.” 

“Yeah,” Jungkook mutters, sticking the food in the microwave. 

He’ll have to convert the tiny office to a room for her. Take his storage shelves and desk and gaming station and put it…somewhere. God, the apartment is small. Should he start looking for a new apartment, where they’ll have their space? But he’s not going to be making enough for that, not on his current salary, so what can he— 

Ding. 

Shit. He burns his finger on the plate, lets it clunk onto the counter. 

Jimin’s got hold of one of her hands, her fingers wrapped around his thumb. It’s scary, how tiny she is. He’s nuzzling her forehead and she’s making a cooing noise, fingers opening and closing on Jimin’s thumb. 

“You’re so good with her,” Jungkook mutters. “How…” 

“I don’t know. I love kids.” He won’t take his eyes off her. “I guess they like me too.” 

“She loves you,” Jungkook says, settling on the counter to eat the half-warmed plate. “She’s never laughed at me like that.” 

Jimin looks at him sadly, and that look is always, always the precursor to a loving lecture. 

“Jungkook-ah, I know you said this is what you wanted.”

There it is. “Don't start.”

“It's your decision,” Jimin tells him. “But it's a giant life change, and you made it in—not even hours, minutes—”

“That's because there was no alternative.” He can imagine the look in Jimin's eyes. He can't look into them right now, but he sees the concern clear as day. 

“You're not good with change,” Jimin says just as gently. There's no judgement in it. “Your words.”

“I can't leave her.”

Jimin nods. “I just wanted to make sure this is the right decision.”

“It's the only decision. Hyung, how could I leave her? How could I leave her to her fate? Do you want her to end up at the facility? Don't you know better than anyone what happens to orphans?”

“We would make sure she found a family,” Jimin says. “She wouldn't have to be like us.”

“I can't,” Jungkook insists. He doesn't know how else to say it. “I can't.”

Jimin nods. “Okay.” He hitches her up higher in his arms. “Okay. Good. I talked to Namjoon-hyung at the wake, and he said you're entitled to paternity leave. We just need to email the appropriate documentation to your HR department. I already have it scanned, I can do it for you if you just log into your account for me.”

Jungkook blinks. “What.”

“Namjoonie-hyung knows, because he took paternity leave when they adopted too. He told me everything. I can take care of it for you.”

Tears come to Jungkook's eyes. Jimin sees them and sighs, heading to put the baby down on the carrier. She goes without protest, biting curiously at the toy that Jimin gives her. 

He turns back to him, mirroring him with one hand on the counter. He's just that touch shorter than Jungkook, almost their entire lives. He tips his chin up, and he feels two meters tall.

“You,” he says strongly, like he wants to impale the words in Jungkook's head, “are not alone in this. I'm here. Whatever you need.” It sounds almost scolding. Tears fall, and Jungkook blinks them out of his eyes. Jimin covers his hand on the counter. “Got it?”

Jungkook nods around the lump in his throat. 

Things do get easier now he has some tools.

The baby carrier thing is a real game changer. He just attaches her to his front and walks along the house, doing housework or just walking, keeping her lulled. He’s scared she’ll start crying again when he puts her down, so he only does it when she’s surely asleep. 

She takes a shine to some of the toys, one pink thing she won’t stop biting and one other maracas-looking thing that seems to have no purpose other than to make a shuffling noise. He’s just thankful she didn’t choose something with bells, or he might have actually gone insane. 

Jimin keeps trying to butt his nose in and help, despite Jungkook’s insistence that he’s got it. He drops in every other day, always trying to sneak something in, from diapers to clothes to fresh produce, no matter how many times Jungkook tells him there’s no need. 

Because Jimin knows him, so he can tell he’s lying. There’s a pressing, all consuming need. Jungkook is drowning. 

But he can’t take more than this. He’s already taken up way too much of Jimin’s time and resources even unasked; imagine what Jimin would do if he did ask. The idea of being such a burden makes Jungkook sick.

Plus, he’s supposed to be able to do this alone. He’s her guardian, her only living family—it’s his responsibility and no one else’s. She has to get used to him, and there’s no way to do that when someone else is around. 

She clearly loves Jimin more than him. Who wouldn’t, really. But they have to focus on each other, Hyun and him. Bonding. Stories. Park. Which one are they doing today?  

The weather’s not too bad, so park it is. 

It’s not very far from his house—a crisp ten minute walk. She’s in the stroller, and the novelty of it seems to have her intrigued, because she’s not crying. 

There’s a few scattered people in the park, but it’s mostly quiet. It’s small, anyway. He walks around with music playing low in his ears to hear her cries if she starts to until they go around it twice, and he decides they can sit for a minute instead.  

Not two minutes after he sits down on a bench, an old lady comes to talk to him. 

She looks at them unabashedly, grinning. “It’s very good of you to take your son out,” she says proudly, “to let your wife have rest!” 

“It’s a girl,” he tells her. How annoying is this whole blue equals boy thing? He didn’t think it would annoy him this much. “And there’s no wife.” 

“Oh dear, are you a widower? So young, too?” 

“Not a widower,” Jungkook tells her. “Just no wife.” 

“Well, you’re still quite young and handsome. How old are you? You can’t be thirty yet, can you?” 

She’s unnervingly close, but he won’t tell her that. People find that sort of thing rude, but if you ask Jungkook, what’s rude is coming to talk to a stranger without considering they might not want to be close enough to smell your weird old lady smell. 

He gets up, putting the headphones back in swiftly. “Have a good day.” 

He starts to move, ignoring her indignant talk of him being rude. It's nothing he hasn't heard before. He responded to her unsolicited questions and told her to have a good day, which is more than she deserved, in his opinion. 

He’s old enough to be a father, he guesses as he starts the walk back home. Other people have kids by twenty-eight. Multiple, even. Jungkook had to fight tooth and nail to get his first apartment at that age and be able to keep it more or less without trouble, but other people have that shit figured out way earlier and by the time they’re approaching thirty, it’s time to start a family. 

Jungkook checks on Hyun, makes sure the cover is down properly so the sun doesn’t get in her eyes and her blanket is properly tucked around her. When would he have gotten around to doing this, if ever? 

Society would have expected it of him. But society expects parents to care for their children, so Jungkook learned at a young age societal expectations aren’t something that necessarily concerned him. 

Society says gay people are monsters, too. There’s a lady on the street corner right around his house giving out flyers all day, and that’s one of her typical slogans; usually on Wednesdays, unless a really scandalous piece of news has concerned her more. Jungkook hopes she at least belongs to a church, somewhere; it’s way sadder to think of her designing and printing her own flyers, distributing them all day long to people who only grab them to make her shut up for a second. 

He’s caught her looking at his baby stroller curiously. He’s purposefully avoided that street since then. He does not want to hear what she has to say on out of wedlock babies.

Despite the day they’ve had, which has deeply exhausted Jungkook, Hyun is still fussy come bedtime. Too fussy—and Jungkook cannot have another sleepless night or he might start hallucinating. 

Stories, Jimin said. Stories it is. 

He doesn’t have a rocking chair, so his spinny one will do. He settles there and gently sways them from side to side, rocking her. He’s humming a song; he’s pretty sure it’s the intro to a show he was in the middle of before all this started, but he can’t be sure.

“Jiminie-hyung said to tell you a story, but I don’t know where he put all the picture books and honestly, I’m scared to move,” he tells her softly, watching her slowly blink at him, quiet for once. “So maybe I can tell you something, instead. I can tell you about me.” He takes her little hand between his fingers and gives it a little squeeze. “I’m Jungkook, nice to meet you. I’m your uncle.” He needs to take a breath after that, because that’s crazy. “I’m an office worker. I work for this publisher right now in production, which is basically just annoying logistical stuff, and the books we make are all like…” He scrunches his nose. “Commercial stuff you’d find at the book section of a supermarket. But it pays well. And I lucked out with it too, because they hired me on barely any qualifications, and they have dorms for employees on site, so I could stay there until I made enough for this place. So I’m not going to let that go. Especially now you’re here. I need to make a stable income, right?” He chuckles. “Well, you wouldn’t know. You can just blabber right now. Can you say stable income, Hyun-ah?” She makes a soft noise, and Jungkook laughs. “Good job.” 

Wow, it’s not easy talking about yourself like this. He doesn’t know what else to say—he’s really the least interesting subject he can think of, so he changes course instead. “You wanna hear about your mom, maybe? Jisoo. She was my sister. Half-sister…sister.” He hitches her up a little higher, to make sure she’s comfortable. “We had the same mom, but different dads. I didn't even know she existed until she called to say mom died. She left me and went to make another family, but I guess that didn't go well, because then Jisoo's dad left, and then it was just them. Jisoo contacted me because she found out about me just before mom died, so…I really just have known her for less than a year, through some scattered phone calls and stuff.” He presses his lips to Hyun’s head. “So I’m sorry I won’t be able to tell you about her when you grow up. I can tell you about how she wanted to know me, because she thought family was important, since she had so little of it. Or how she had pretty, long shiny hair, and her laugh was kinda geeky.” He smiles. “I think I would have liked to know her, too.” Ah fuck, he shouldn’t talk about this when he’s so tired. “So I’m sorry I won’t be able to answer your questions. But I…” A sniff. “I can love you like she would have, okay? I can take care of you like she would have. Probably a bit worse than she would have, if we’re honest, right? But I’ll try.” Another kiss. “So please forgive me when I mess up. I’ll try to be good, but I don’t know much about family either, hm?” 

His phone buzzes. 

play her these if she can’t sleep [link] studies have shown it helps soothe babies her age and help them relax :) 

Jungkook smiles.

“Speaking of,” he says softly, “Hyun-ah, let’s call uncle Jimin, hm?”

Jimin answers his facetime instantly. He’s in bed, shirtless like always, even though it’s cold outside. His black hair is all mussed and Jungkook bets if he could see in the low light, his cheek would be all red from where he’s been lying on his side. “She can’t sleep? Did you play the sounds?” 

“Not yet, hyung, you just sent it,” he says with a fond headshake. He reframes it so he can see her. 

“Hi sweetheart,” Jimin coos when he gets a better look at her. His voice turns all soft and soothing, and it makes Jungkook smile. “Why aren’t you sleeping yet, hm? Why are you giving daddy a hard time?” 

Jungkook splutters, caught completely off guard. Hyun lifts her head up to look at him. He looks at her back, wide-eyed.

“What?” comes Jimin’s voice. “You okay?”  

“I’m not…” He clears his throat. “I wasn’t calling myself that. In my head.” 

“Oh,” Jimin says, sitting up a little. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I just thought…” 

“No, yeah.” Jungkook swallows hard. “I know.” Not the time to consider all that. Definitely, definitely not. “Anyway, she’s been a little fussy, so I just was telling her a story.” 

“What about?” 

“Me and her mom.” 

Jimin hums. “Did you tell her about how you all have the same eyes?” 

“Huh?” 

Jimin smiles. He leans closer. “Those big peepers of yours. Your sister had them. Hyunie has them. More eyes than face.” 

“It’s not…” Jungkook laughs, tired. “She’s definitely more cheeks than eyes.” He squeezes her cheeks gently between his fingers. His smile widens. “Look.” He makes sure the camera can see it. “Look, hyung.” 

“I’m looking,” Jimin says with a laugh. “You two are too cute.” 

Jungkook flutters his eyelashes at him playfully. “Oh? But I’m cuter, right?” 

“Definitely almost.” 

Jungkook laughs too, and it turns into a yawn. 

“Hey, why don’t you go to bed?” 

“But she’s still up.” 

“Yes, but maybe she’ll sleep next to you. She’s not fussy when you hold her, right?” 

Jimin guides him through how to barricade the wall with pillows to protect her from all sides. 

He turns the camera so Jimin can see. “Like this?” 

“Perfect.” 

“Oh, hyung…” He looks at her slow blinking eyes. “I think she’s falling asleep.”

“Oh. I’ll let you go, then.” 

“No, no, I think…I think it’s your voice.” 

“My voice?” 

“Mm. Can you…” He rubs his eyes. “Sorry to ask, but can you stay on the line a little longer and talk?” 

“Are you asking me to give her a long-distance bedtime story?”

“Only if you’re willing.” 

Jimin smiles. “Sure thing.” He gets comfortable as Jungkook slips under the covers too. “How about I tell you how I met your uncle, Hyun-ah?” 

Jungkook snorts. “I know that one.” 

“Well, you know all my stories anyway. And this is for her, not you.” 

“Okay, okay,” Jungkook says, his eyes slipping closed. He reaches to cover her with her blankie properly, and then she catches his finger in her hand, so he leaves it there. “I’ll let you talk between you.”

“That’s right, plug your ears. Anyway, Hyun-ah, you might know your uncle as this big, tall, buff, intimidating man,” his voice is filled with mirth, but still low and soothing, “but when we first met, he was a tiny gangly little teen. He was the most silent thing, just keeping to himself in his corner and staring out at things with those big eyes y’all seem to share, and he’d look down at his beat up trainers any time anyone looked at him back.” 

“I’m pretty sure you’re the only one who looked at me back.” 

“Maybe,” Jimin says with a smile. “Anyway, sweetheart, as I was saying, we met at this orphanage.”

“Center for homeless youth,” Jungkook corrects.  

“Right, right. It was a shoddy place, but it managed to have two sections to it, one for the boys and one for the girls. One working shower per section, a bunch of lockers with broken locks, one blanket per resident. Our beds were next to each other, but we never really talked.” 

“You’d smile at me sometimes,” Jungkook mutters. 

“And you’d ignore me. Ah, memories. Now, shut up and let me tell my story.” 

“Sorry, sorry.”

“And one day, there was a fight between some guys in our room. One of them accused the other of stealing something, I don’t know. This kind of thing wasn’t uncommon, but this one got ugly really fast, chairs being thrown and everything. So I tried to intervene. Stop it before someone ended up in the hospital and banned from the center. But they were all bigger than me, so I got a bloody nose for it.” His voice doesn’t carry any fear or resentment. It’s just facts. “I ran off to the bathroom, trying to get it to stop, but of course all the paper was done, so I was just holding my bloody nose, staining my favourite t-shirt…and who should walk in but Jungkookie, all worried eyes and a washcloth he’d snuck away from the kitchen.” 

Jungkook remembers that day. The red seeping through Jimin’s fingers. 

“He helped me out because he used to get nose-bleeds all the time, so he knew how to deal. That was the first day he ever talked to me. That was the first time I ever heard his voice. He had a lisp. Still does when he gets nervous even today.” A little sigh. “And the rest is history.” 

Jungkook’s drifting slowly. 

“Is she asleep, Jungkook-ah?” 

He checks. “She is,” he whispers, already close to sleep himself. “You’re a miracle worker.” 

“Nah,” Jimin says with a yawn himself. “I’m just such a compelling storyteller I put people to sleep.” 

“I was listening,” Jungkook says. “I heard your story. But that wasn’t everything.” 

“Wasn’t it?” 

“You didn’t mention how you snuck me food. How I’d find juice boxes and little jam packs under my pillow. How you gave me your sweater when mine got torn even though it was your only one.” 

“I had outgrown it.” 

That’s a lie. “Yeah,” Jungkook mutters with a smile. “Hyung?” 

“Hm?” 

He might blame the sleepiness and the soothing quality of Jimin’s voice, or the absolute bone-deep exhaustion. His hands are still sticky, and his countertops are a mess of fruit bits. “Will you come tomorrow?” 

“Do you want me to?” 

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” he mutters. “But only if you’re not busy.” 

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

With that, he sleeps. 

Tomorrow comes, and it’s just another uphill climb.

There’s laundry that should be taken out of the machine and into the dryer; it will have caught that humid smell by now. His countertops are all brown with remnants of avocado, baby food, and spilled juice. The garbage is overflowing, little flies starting to buzz around it; and Hyun cries every time he puts her down. 

He straps her onto him and puts on that music Jimin sent, just to see what it does. He’s run out of real product, so he spills vinegar on his counter and starts to wipe it down, scrubbing and scrubbing. The smell makes Hyun whimper a little. 

“I’m sorry,” he coos, “I don’t like the smell either, but I have to; it’s disgusting in here.” How did he let it get this bad? He’s usually good about catching it before it turns into a health hazard, at least, even if he’s not the tidiest of people. “Gotta clean for uncle Jimin.” She makes a responding little gurgle, and it makes Jungkook smile. She’s squirming a lot, but he doesn’t want to put her down when he can’t keep an eye on her. 

“Hey, hey, let’s calm down, okay?” Maybe talking will help again. “What do you think you should call me, Hyun-ah? Was Jimin right? Should it be dad? I’m not your dad. I didn’t think I’d be anyone’s dad…no offence or anything.” She waves her little arms around restlessly. “I know, I know, we’re almost done. I’m your uncle, you know? But you won’t remember anyone raising you but me.” 

The smell is starting to get to him too, actually. He frowns, washing his hands quickly. Hyunie squirms and squirms. He bottle feeds her first, a headache settling as he tries to get her to burp. She’s endlessly making noise, little whines and grunts in a constant stream. It doesn’t help his headache. 

The house is marginally cleaner now, so that’s a relief, at least. He shivers and goes to close the window. There’s goosebumps all over him. He hadn’t even left it open that long. Did he eat anything? Probably not, right? He remembers eating some of yesterday’s rice and some kimchi over the counter. Is that all? Was that even today? 

He rubs his eyes. Fuck, why does he feel like he was run over by a truck? Hyunie slept through the night. He did too, waking up with her cries in the morning. He should have rested. Why does he still feel so… 

Maybe he should join her for a nap. She’s already sleeping peacefully, would it hurt for Jungkook to have some sleep too? Jimin won’t be here before six, anyway. 

He sleeps as soon as his head hits the pillow and gets woken up from her cries again. He’s sweating through his shirt, which is weird. Is that why she’s crying too? Did he accidentally leave the heating up way too high? 

He gets dizzy as he gets from the bed to get to her. His head floats in a terribly disorienting way. He stabilizes himself on the crib. He goes to pick her up to soothe her crying and it happens again. He stumbles and falls back into the bed. “Oh. Fuck.” 

He very slowly manages to change her diaper without incident. He puts her back in the crib and heads to wash up. He grabs a random juice out of a six pack that Jimin brought last time he was here, and drinks it all in four quick sips of the straw. He’s heard that somewhere, that you should drink juice when you’re feeling faint and dizzy. There’s a half-eaten banana in the fridge that he used for Hyun’s breakfast and it’s the quickest thing he can have, so he does, even if it’s grossly mushy. He shoves it down, swallows and gags after, but manages to keep it all in. 

He’s still leaning heavily against the counters. His body feels weak. It’s like his arms aren’t his, his legs belong to someone else. 

He hears the baby cry again. 

His head is swimming. He has no idea what time it is; it was close to one when they both fell asleep, but he lost track after. He knows he made her a snack because there’s crumbs and bits of toast all over the floor. The trash-can is overflowing again, that juice pack he had earlier toppled over. He should get a bigger one. 

He’s got her in the pouch, but she’s crying continuously, and he can do nothing but walk and walk across the living room. He’s too scared to go out. What if he gets dizzy again and falls? 

Jimin arrives a little after six, no doubt straight from work. At the sound of the code, Jungkook turns to face the door in relief. 

His cheery greeting immediately fades into concern when he notices Jungkook’s face. God, he must look like shit. 

“Jungkook-ah?” 

“Hyung, I think I’m sick.” 

Jimin takes action right away, moving to take Hyun out of the pouch and holding her, pressing a kiss to her head. “Hi baby girl,” he coos at her, and she stares at him with her big eyes. She’s curiously stopped her crying. 

He presses the back of his hand to Jungkook’s cheek. “You’re warm.” There’s a worried frown. The hand moves down to his neck. “Definitely warm. Do you have a thermometer?” 

Jungkook struggles to remember. “I don’t…I don’t know…” 

“It’s okay,” Jimin says gently, “it’s okay, hm? We don’t need it right now.” 

“But if she gets sick—if she gets sick after me and I don’t have a thermometer—” 

“She’s not sick,” Jimin reassures. “We don’t need it, okay? What I need you to do is go lie down. Can you do that for me?” 

“Hyunie…” Jungkook puts his finger in her little hand and she grabs it loosely.

“I got her,” Jimin says with a smile. “Go lie down for me, please?”

Jungkook nods. Jimin brings him close for a kiss to his forehead and he lets it happen, sways into him for a moment before pulling back. 

Once he’s horizontal, the dizziness abides a little. His head still feels like it’s stuffed, so he closes his eyes. 

“Did she eat?” Jimin asks. 

“We ate breakfast in the morning…we had some milk a while ago, then had a nap, then snack.” Jungkook mutters. “Toast. Blueberries, avocado. Some milk.” 

“Okay,” Jimin soothes, “that’s good. You did good, Jungkook-ah.” 

Jungkook curls onto his side. “I’m tired.” 

“I know, baby. You sleep now, okay? As much as you need.” 

Jungkook thinks he can’t, but between one breath and the next, he’s out. 

He hears Jimin hum songs to her in his sleep. He hears him tell stories. He hears him soothe her when she cries, he hears him laugh when she laughs. 

All the while, Jungkook stays curled up in his bed and tries not to vomit. 

Jimin’s raising him up to a sit. 

“We’ll eat something, okay?” His hand is on the nape of Jungkook’s neck, squeezing. It wakes him up, just a touch. 

There’s some rice porridge. It’s pretty tasteless, but the warmth trickling down his throat is good. Jimin helps him drink some water, too. 

“Hyunie,” Jungkook starts.

“She’s asleep.” His voice is really close. Jungkook realises he’s got his head on Jimin’s shoulder, and Jimin’s carding his fingers through Jungkook’s sweaty hair. He must be really gross right now, he thinks absently, but though he’s ashamed, he doesn’t pull away. “We had dinner, and I read to her a little, and rocked her to sleep.” That’s why Jimin’s whispering. “That’s right. We don’t want to wake her up.” 

Jungkook nuzzles closer to Jimin. He feels safe. He feels taken care of. “Did I sleep the whole afternoon?” 

“You did.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“What now.”

“All this.” He snuggles closer. “All this you’re doing for me.” 

Jimin kisses his forehead. Two forehead kisses in a day. Jungkook should get sick more often. “You’re delirious. Go to sleep.” 

Jungkook looks up at him. He’s so close, and despite Jungkook’s surely gross appearance, he’s looking at him in the same fond way he always does. “You’re doing too much.” 

“Delirious,” Jimin repeats. He pinches Jungkook’s neck in reprimand. “If I don’t take care of you, what kind of hyung am I? Who will I take care of, if not you two?” 

Jungkook doesn’t know how to answer that, so he snuggles back against Jimin’s neck. “I’m still sorry,” he mutters again, only for Jimin to shut him up with a gentle shush.

The baby cries in the night. Jungkook jerks up to get to her, but a hand pushes his chest down. “I got her.” 

He watches Jimin’s silhouette get up from the bed next to him, feels the shift of the weight. He lifts her up slowly, tucks her perfectly against his arm. They disappear out the door, and Jungkook stuffs his head in Jimin’s pillow and breathes in long, sighs on the exhale, and hovers on the edge of sleep until Jimin comes back. 

It’s morning—or, well, it’s light—and his head finally feels clear. 

He sniffs his clothes and finds it unacceptable. He sticks his head out of the door. Jimin and Hyun are nowhere to be seen. He looks for his phone, plugged into the charger on his bedside table. 

we went to do some groceries. be back soon! 

The text was from half an hour ago. 

The shower feels like shedding his old skin and being born anew; not to be too dramatic about it. His hair almost cries at being washed properly, now he doesn’t have to worry about Hyunie waking up. He washes it three times, until it’s good and soapy, and then puts in some leave-in conditioner. He even has the chance to put on some lotion after, his favourite, the one that smells of honey. 

The bathroom is a whole fucking mess, so he takes the chance to at least put everything back in its place. All the baby shampoos and baby wipes and diapers are haphazardly stacked on top of his washing machine, and that won’t do. He has a rolling shelf that he used for his own skin care, the more expensive stuff. He empties it all into travel bags and stacks it in the shelves under his sink, since he’s not likely to use it now. Twenty minute skin care routine is no longer something he can do regularly. He makes the shelves into a mobile baby changing station and feels a twinge of satisfaction at it. He opens the bathroom window and sprays some air freshener, and somehow, after all of it, he starts to feel human again. 

His stomach still feels a bit sensitive, so he doesn’t go for coffee. He’s heating up some of the leftover jook Jimin made him when the door opens, and Jimin’s voice wafts in. 

“Look who’s up!” he says excitedly, coming to drop all the bags on the counter. “You look so much better!” 

His smile is wide and lovely. Jungkook nods. “Feel more stable.” 

“I’m glad,” Jimin says, before turning to the baby in the pouch. “Look, Hyunie, look who’s back!” He takes her out, and she turns to look at him with wide eyes. “It’s Jungkookie. Jungkookie’s all better now, because we took care of him.” 

For a long, horrifying second, Jungkook’s scared she won’t recognise him. He fears she’ll start crying like he’s a stranger, and then his heart will break clean in two. 

But she smiles. She makes a little baby noise, and Jimin laughs with her, and relief floods Jungkook. 

“Can I hold her?” he asks shyly. 

“Why are you asking like that?” Jimin laughs. He leans towards him gently, and the transfer is smooth. Jungkook’s gotten better at it, he thinks. He no longer fears dropping her every single time. 

She looks at him a little confused, looks between him and Jimin a couple times, but then she smiles and puts her little palm on Jungkook’s cheek. 

He huffs. He kisses her hand. “Hi, sweetheart,” he tells her. He starts to bounce a little, an automatic move now. “Did you have a good time with uncle Jimin?” 

“Oh, she did,” Jimin says, his chin propped on Jungkook’s shoulder, his hand on his hip. “We went to the park first, then to the  grocery store, then to the pharmacy.” 

“The pharmacy?” 

“Just to stock up on some essentials. Like baby aspirin, normal aspirin, a thermometer.” 

Jungkook turns to catch his eye. “Thank you.” 

“Don’t say it like that, like I’m saving your life.” They’re so close. Jimin’s smile is so close. 

“I’m pretty sure you did.” 

Hyun puts her little hand on Jimin’s cheek too, linking them all together. Jimin’s smiling eyes turn to her with incredible love. “You cutie,” he tells her, his free hand coming to caress her cheek. They’re in a little cuddle bundle, all three of them, and Jungkook’s feeling settled for the first time since this whole thing began. 

“You smell good,” Jimin tells him, his nose playfully sniffing at Jungkook’s nape. “How do you smell so good after two days of being near damn comatose?” 

Jungkook smiles at the tickling sensation. “Finally had time for a real shower.” 

“Mm,” Jimin presses his lips to Jungkook’s shoulder. “Honey.” 

Something in Jungkook’s stomach tightens. Hyun pats his cheek, making a little noise, so he turns his attention to her. “Is it time for baby’s lunch, hm?” 

“I have something ready,” Jimin tells him, pulling away. 

They eat together, all three of them, Hyunie in her high chair in the middle. Jungkook feeds her and Jimin cleans after her immediately, and for once, the kitchen doesn’t look like a war zone. 

Jimin stays the whole afternoon. He doesn’t even make mention of leaving. At one point, while Jungkook’s with Hyunie on the floor, stacking blocks together clumsily, Jimin disappears. He comes back smelling of Jungkook’s shampoo, hair wet, in lounge clothes. Jungkook’s lounge clothes. 

He notices him staring. “I borrowed them. You don’t mind, right?” 

“I’d give you a kidney if I could,” Jungkook mumbles, and Jimin laughs, swaying into him. 

“Oh yeah? Which one?” 

“The left one, obviously. You know I always bump into things with my right side, the right one must be pretty ugly by now. All dented.” 

“Ah, so you’ll give me the pretty one. Thank you, Jungkook-ssi. So thoughtful.” He’s leaning his weight on Jungkook’s shoulder, stacking things easily to show Hyun. She follows his hands with intense concentration, and tries to grab the blue block right out of them. 

Droplets of Jimin’s hair fall onto his neck, and he shivers, that’s how close they were. “How come you didn’t go home.” Oh, that probably sounds rude. Jimin knows how he means it though, so that’s alright. 

“I figured I’d stay a little longer…” Jimin rubs his lip with his fingers. “To make sure you’re okay. Unless you want me to go.” 

Jungkook shakes his head maybe a little too quickly. 

Jimin laughs. Suddenly his mouth is right by Jungkook’s ear. “Then can I stay here tonight?” 

“Tonight, tomorrow, forever.” 

Jimin hums. “Don’t joke like that, Jungkook-ah, I might take advantage.” 

“I’m not joking,” Jungkook says, and somehow he’s close to tears. And suddenly, all he’s been doing feels so stupid. “I couldn’t have—I don’t know what I would have done these two days without you. I could barely stand. I couldn’t have taken care of her. I’m not—alone, I’m not—” He sniffs. “She loves you. She’s calm with you. You know how to be with her.” 

Me too, he wants to add, but he doesn’t say it. He’s pretty sure Jimin knows, anyway. 

“I’m still learning as I go, same as you,” Jimin reassures. His arm is around Jungkook, holding him close. Hyunie is blissfully knocking her blocks against each other. 

“I’m no good at this,” Jungkook mutters. “And I hate to ask, hyung, but…” He takes a deep breath. “I need help.” 

Jimin kisses him on the side of the head. “All you had to do was ask. You idiot.” He pinches his side. “This independence kink you have is so stupid, I’ve always told you.”

Jungkook laughs. “I don’t have a kink.” 

“Might as well,” Jimin says with a tsk. “Had to get to the point of collapse to ask for help, hm?” Another pinch, stronger this time, and Jungkook ducks away to avoid it. “Think you can do everything by yourself? People prepare for months and months to be parents, and you had, what, a day head-start?” The pinches keep coming until he’s on his back, Jimin’s hands everywhere. “The arrogance!”

“Ah, stop! Attacking me in front of my child!” 

“She needs to know how to deal with your stubbornness!” He turns to her. “Hyun-ah, get him! Get Jungkookie!” 

Hyun, hearing her name and seeing all the commotion, slowly and shakily crawls the tiny distance towards them. She places her hands on Jungkook’s shoulder, and loses her balance then, her head bonking with his a little. Jungkook laughs. “Oh, baby, here.” He sits up, helping her too, tucking her into the crook of  his arm. Jimin’s still straddling him, running his finger gently over her little socked feet.

“What do you think, Hyun-ah? Should I say yes?” he asks her, pretending Jungkook isn’t there. “Should I ignore how bullheaded our Jungkookie’s been and come anyway?” She makes a noise, like she’s answering. They both laugh. “Oh yeah? So I should come?” Another babble. “Okay, okay.” Another pinch to Jungkook’s stomach. “But only for you.” 

Jungkook lies back down, eyes closed, heart settled. It’s going to be okay. Jimin’s here, so it’s going to be okay.