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Chapter Text

Jungkook dug his face into his knees and hugged his legs tighter. 

He should have been used to the metal table that was so cold it was almost sharp, and the chairs with the cracked plastic cushions that were actually sharp and bit him through the sweatpants, but this room was only worse and worse every time. 

The fog on the window of the door made it a little safe to cry, but that also meant he couldn't see the two men on the other side. All there was to do was try to make out what his social worker and a staff member were saying. Listen to the voices of the two men in the hall, and see how long it would take for them to realise they made a mistake coming here. Or that they had better things to do, or somewhere important to be but they would “think about it” before leaving and never coming back.

Jungkook's head came up when the door creaked open. These men were making a big mistake. Coming in, with their platinum and silky black mullets, long jackets, and one toting the nicest purse Jungkook had ever seen (clearly rich). 

Rich people have rich people places. This place had too much mold between the wall tiles and too little sunlight due to the grime in the windows to be that kind of place. Unless they were those “cool” rich people, and this was some charity thing. Or pity.

The one with the black hair and purse sparkled enough to be one of those people. Nothing says pity like coming straight over to the chair across from Jungkook, placing his purse on the table, and reaching in for a crinkly package. He didn't bother to ask the staff member for permission to pull out a treat.

One of those famous Choco Pies. 

Jungkook's mouth watered a little. Even through the package, the smell was better than Jungkook ever expected.

After coming back to the facility in February, Jungkook was pretty much ready to accept that he would never get a chance to try one of these. When the previous home had taken Jungkook in, the judge had even said that that home was likely going to be his last chance, and when the parents had brought him back to the facility after a week, he and his social worker and the judge all knew it was over until Jungkook was old enough and healthy enough to get out of here… and be on the streets, in some shelter, eating just enough to get by.

It was like this man with the black hair knew. When Jungkook didn't take the pie, he gently pushed it across the table.

But did he actually get it? There was some fire in this man's eyes, like he was about to burst or yell at Jungkook for some reason, but for whatever reason he tried his best to be nice and he tapped the pie so Jungkook couldn't ignore it. 

The staff member asked his social worker if they needed anything, and slipped on a jacket ready to leave for the day.

The other man fidgeted with something in his jacket pocket as he said, “No thank you.” And then a nod and, “Thank you.”

His smile to the social worker made such deep dimples. Either extremely genuine, or just rich and dirty waiting to suck Jungkook dry. Jungkook's experience was enough for him to know what he was about to go “home” to – the best day of his life on camera, some party or day at the fair that that makes his new parents famous on the local news, before being shoved away in the closet or a small room with five or ten bunk beds yet nowhere for him to sleep. But something about this man made it hard to see that happening. Maybe?

The case worker Jungkook had now, every single one he had up to this point, let that happen before. Not to mention, let some actually nice people slip through and make a big mistake putting Jungkook into their family. And Jungkook only turned sideways in his chair, away from the man with the pie as the social worker introduced him as Seokjin, or Jin.

“And this is Namjoon.”

The other man approached Jungkook. He was used to crouching down, lightly grabbing the person by the shoulders – in this case, Jungkook – and closing in a little.

“Hello, Jungkook. We read your file and there was a lot that resonated with us. We understand the things you have been through. There is some stuff that we don't know about you that we would like to learn or help you figure out. We would like you to come stay at our house for the next two weeks so we can get to know you, and you can get to know us. And if things don't work out, we completely understand and we think that it might help you to get a break from living here, do some fun things.”

It was all a couple signatures away, and then his husband could grab the new jacket they bought for Jungkook out of his purse and off they'd be.

From the second Namjoon had crouched down, Jungkook was flooded with… something. Like what he imagined ‘normal’ smelling like. 

The smell of the dust that kids at school (back when Jungkook was able to go to normal school) had in the bottoms of their pencil boxes, the same waft of crayons and colored pencils and markers and stickers that filled the classroom when they popped open. And Namjoon's fingers were all sorts of colors, like one popular girl at normal school had after dying her hair the night before. When Namjoon noticed some brown dye was smearing off on Jungkook, even though it was an old facility sweatshirt, he pulled away and said, “Sorry.”

Sorry for what?

Namjoon noticed he was standing on Jungkook's foot.

"Sorry.”

Again, sorry for what?

Namjoon wouldn't touch Jungkook too much and it was also probably best to back up a bit, but Namjoon was here and wasn't going anywhere.

Jin reached back into his bag and he pulled out Jungkook's folder. When he opened it, the document they needed seemed to have vanished.

Where the-?

Jin flipped through front to back, then back and front, and front and back again. He then squinted at Namjoon's hands as they went into his jacket pocket.

Namjoon brought out a paper folded so badly, opening it up took as much force as it would if the paper were smashed into a ball or torn up and knotted.

Jin screamed, “WHY DID YOU FOLD IT!!!”

Jungkook's eyes went big and his lips sucked in as Jin exploded. He began ripping into Namjoon about the hair dye on the paper, and kept finding more and more things to scream louder and louder about. Jungkook whimpered. A tear fell from one eye, and the other welled up just as he went red and sniffled.

He couldn't do this. Not again. These men couldn't even wait to leave the building, they did the fighting right here. Imagine what happened behind closed doors, imagine what they felt they needed to keep private.

When Jungkook looked to Namjoon for comfort, the man's face was completely smooth, no cuts or bruises, and his neck was clear of any indentations that would show that Jin grabbed him by the face or throat.

Namjoon wasn't scared of Jin. Instead of backing away or being defensive, Namjoon tried to keep up. And when the screaming turned into silly insults, or Jungkook could make out something about their other sons or things that only normal people worry about, Namjoon only broke down into stammers. His rapid-fire excuses were nothing more than random sounds and grunts… and Jungkook could actually… probably get used to this.

Jungkook's lips broke into a smile.

Jin launched him out of the chair, yelling. His head whipped around so hard it was about to pop off. The yelling rapped down the hall and through the building, and Jin didn't even know what he was saying anymore.

Jungkook's face collapsed to his knees and he burst out laughing. The first time since… Last year? It actually hurt a little, but in a way that boosted his character. His forehead beat into his knee and his hands clapped.

His laughter broke through the tension—sputtering, wheezing, totally uncontrollable.

Namjoon looked up, caught off guard, then over at Jungkook. His mouth hung open for a second before his dimpled grin began to bloom again.

Jin spun around with his arms in the air. “What? What? What’s so funny?!” 

Jungkook couldn't even say. He just waved his hand around, face still buried now in his arms, trying and failing to catch his breath. 

He should've been completely frozen. Never mattered who was confronting him or why, Jungkook always had a lump come up in his throat, sometimes big enough to block his airway and make him want to shrink down from the weight. Being crushed was better than whatever punishment Jungkook was about to get. Though for some reason, he was just screamed at by a complete stranger who was over twice his size while standing, even down to the shoulders, yet nothing happened. Nothing was going to happen. Except maybe this man's head swelling up like in those candy commercials and popping slime everywhere. 

Not that anything like that was going to happen (it was real life), but Jungkook laughed even harder. And nothing was going to happen when he kept laughing. 

More screaming and rapping? Jin didn't have the right words for that, and he himself was realizing it when a smile made it almost impossible to keep going.

Jungkook's caseworker should have stepped between them the moment the screaming started, but she really had no grounds to respond when Jungkook did something she's never seen him do.

He didn't break down and cry, the way he would always be when it was time for her to come to a home to collect him. This kind of yelling and screaming was never ideal for a person like Jungkook and always leaves a detestable impression or reasonable suspicion of applicants, but with these applicants, Jungkook wasn't numb the way that she would find him upon getting a notification that he had been returned to the facility.

After this time of not only being returned by his previous home but having been abandoned at the front gate with nothing -- he not only took well to these strangers but he was smiling with full teeth.

She had to intervene in order to continue the process. The faster they moved, the faster Jungkook could leave, and the Kims  had only fifteen days to prepare to appear in front of the judge and the first day is always one of the most important. “If you would like to proceed, we can let this incident slide.”

Namjoon gritted his teeth and let her see the document that he destroyed. 

Jin only stared him down harder and was never going to let this go, because they both will always remember how much they once went through and were set to still go through in order to maintain custody of one their sons, Jimin, and how losing a single document changes everything. Same thing set them back during another custody battle, and they once were so close to losing a week of progress in getting guardianship of a certain Yoongi because Namjoon saw an entire cup of coffee ready to be spilled on Yoongi's folder and Namjoon couldn't help himself.

The social worker sighed in relief, everything in the document seemed to be filled out, and in great detail. These men knew what they were doing and were serious about this, at least somewhat. “If the document is legible and we can get a signature, it is viable.”

Namjoon gave her the paper for her to assess. 

He crouched back down to Jungkook’s level again. “We’re not perfect. As you can see,” he side eyed his husband, “we are not in any way perfect. Some days are beautiful and other days see us getting by. We can't promise you a home that's always clean and happy, but it is a home, and we would like to invite you.”

Jungkook's face went flat. He sucked his lips in again and shot a look at his case worker.

Please tell him what this meant. What was going on here? He never had a parent or any adult get to his level like this, especially twice now, and actually make

These weren't things that people say. Being not perfect and having problems wasn't possible, the grown ups never admit… unless… More was coming.

They were about to go home to a sink full of dishes and a mop bucket and a list of things Jungkook had to do in order to go to the bathroom or eat dinner, and Jungkook would owe these charitable people. 

Or, at the first chance that one of them got to be alone with Jungkook, there was going to be a hand to the face, and Jungkook wouldn't be able to hate them because they were such nice and friendly people.

Or –not the first time– things would go rather well, and the minute one of these men snapped, it would be because of Jungkook. Jungkook was the one out of line.

And it was probably starting now. It started the minute Jin sat down, the pie was a test, this was all a test.

Jungkook shrunk down and backed off as far as the chair allowed him to.

Jin spat out, mainly to make Jungkook giggle or not feel the burden of being scared, “Namjoon, what did you do?!”

Jungkook was comfortable before Namjoon started talking!

The case worker had already finished looking over the paperwork and was now working out a few creases. She took her pen from her pocket and with a click of it, she said, “I have a section to fill out and make additions to, but once I have done that, all we need is a signature from both of you and you are free to go.”

Instead of celebrating, the men only did what they did best.

Namjoon yelled out a bit humorously, “Sorry I ruined the paper.”

Jin screamed back, “You're not sorry, you'll do it again!”

Jungkook froze, staring ahead. The mold in the walls didn't seem so bad now. The yelling faded out until the words made no sense and the room became hot as it closed in.

Just a signature from each of them, and Jungkook would have no option but to follow these men to the car. And what came after, there was no telling.

Chapter Text

At home their oldest, Yoongi, agreed to flick the Twister spinner and flip a coin again. But only one more time, and then he was going upstairs. It was already 2pm, time to go back to bed.

He was sitting on the couch instead of the floor, and far away from the coffee table that his brothers had moved to the middle of the room. He wasn't about to get hit when something got thrown or flew off the table, which was guaranteed because a coffee table is not typically made to hold all this shit.

Three Candyland boards. All the Jenga blocks (including the new set Jin had bought to replace the old set that got lost, a few pieces swiped from Jin's collector set, and pieces from the old set that had magically resurfaced under Jimin's bed later). All the Trouble stuff, Pictionary, Connect 4 pieces painted like poker chips, and everything next to a bowl of candy prizes.

This time, the game had Hoseok on the Twister mat, about to tumble over and break his face. Yoongi couldn't remember arguing and whining being part of the game, but Jimin and Taehyung were doing it well. Just like every other time they played this bullshit or some other game.

Taehyung was taking forever on his turn. Jimin started too early. Taehyung snuck a piece of candy. Jimin assaulted Taehyung by poking him with the edge of his fingertip. Taehyung accidentally knocked something over. Jimin cheated and Taehyung was entitled to compensation. Something-something end of the world.

The three weren't much younger than Yoongi, at almost 16 years and then 14 and 15, but anyone could have easily switched out the months for years and it would've still been just about right. And now Jin and Namjoon were on the way home, bringing back another one who was even younger.

Hoseok insisted, “Stop fighting, let's play.” He sounded a little bit shaken up as if he was actually enjoying all of this, until the yelling started.

Jimin may have been smiling, but he was completely serious. “Stopppp!” 

Taehyung screamed, “I didn't do anything!” He could barely get anything else out as his voice trembled and his lips were shaking.

“Stop!”

“I didn't!”

And even though Yoongi was watching, Jimin went ahead and reached for the nearest Candyland board while Taehyung was distracted rubbing his eyes and he nudged one of his pieces forward two spots.

Yoongi didn't stop him. The sooner this ended, the better. He didn't bother flicking the spinner or flipping either. “Green.” For Hoseok. “Your turn, Jimin.”

Taehyung screamed, “No fair! He cheated!”

For some reason, Jimin was still proud of it. And he took a piece of candy from the bowl, and a chip. 

“Put it back,” Yoongi said, deadpan, not even looking up from the spinner he was now lazily twirling on its side.

Jimin, pretending to be oblivious, crammed the candy into his mouth and dropped the poker chip into his pocket. “What? It's mine! I won this turn.”

“You cheated!” Taehyung half-shouted, half-sobbed with a string of spit. Taehyung sniffled dramatically, plopping backwards onto the carpet and crossing his arms, shoulders hunched up to his ears.

Hoseok got his arm on the green and was now trembling with his shoulder about to give out. “Please, please just spin again, hyung. We can keep going and Taehyung will get everything he wants too.”

Yoongi gave the spinner one more flick just to humor him. “Red.”

Hoseok grunted thank you. “My foot's asleep.”

His whole leg was numb as he tried to lift it. He wobbled and fell up into the air, and plopped down. The table rattled and skidded the bowl of candy towards Jimin, and stopped at the corner.

Taehyung shot up in horror. “No!”

Jimin smiled. “Yes!” 

Hoseok got up and bonked his head on the corner of the table, sending the bowl flying down. Half of the candy poured straight out, some flew. 

Taehyung gasped. Jimin’s eyes lit up like he’d found buried treasure. Hoseok immediately lost his balance and crashed sideways into the mat with a loud “oof.”

Jimin lunged forward on his hands and knees to collect candy by the piles. His small hands couldn't hold much at once, but he was fast enough to get almost the whole bowl in his pockets.

“No!” Taehyung shrieked, scrambling after him. But the damage was already done…

Hoseok moaned from the mat where he was sprawled out like a crime scene outline. He managed to yell out, in a baby voice, “No, you be nice! You share!”

Yoongi just leaned further back on the couch, arms crossed. “This is exactly why I said one more time,” Yoongi muttered to himself.

Now his homework was definitely looking more fun.

Then, he got a bright idea.

“Ohhhh Jiminnnn…” He got up from the couch. “I'm telling Jin and Namjoon!”

A tiny sweat came down Jimin's neck. Yoongi didn't mean about the– no, he meant about this and the candy.

Whatever. Jimin smiled and shrugged Yoongi off. Namjoon was used to this and what was Jin going to do, yell?

Yoongi cleared his throat. “Oh yeah, I'm telling.”

Another sweat came, now all over Jimin's body. 

“You know exactly what I mean.”

Taehyung's mouth fell open, clueless. Hoseok's as well as he recovered just in time.

Jimin shrunk a little with a nervous smile. Yoongi was playing. He wasn't actually going to tell them about it… right?

Yoongi broke out in chicken noises. And not the typical bawk b-bawk, but full cawing as he began strutting like one.

Jimin screamed at him to stop. Laughing only as a coping mechanism.

When Taehyung saw Hoseok's eyes go big and he asked what Hyung was doing, Yoongi only threatened to tell them. Because Jin and Namjoon would love to hear about the chicken. Especially from Jimin's roommate Hoseok, who would only make it 5x worse with his panicking and inherent need to do the right thing.

Jungkook sunk into the middle passenger seat of this minivan. It was easier to dart his eyes between Namjoon's hair, the flickers of sunlight occasionally getting caught in the mirror or random junk splayed all over the dashboard, and then Jin, who was too focused on the road.

He pressed his head into the window, which was cold enough to make the beanie that these men made him wear become a bit wet with dew.

In time, the facility disappeared from his window, and was nowhere to be seen through the net covering the back seat window or the back window. The city rolled by between all these handprints on the glass and the stickers of these cartoon animals that matched the charms hanging from the handle above the door, smacking around. A Doraemon stared into his soul as rows of houses materialized, and got closer and closer.

Any of the houses up ahead could be theirs. The place where the new nightmare happens. Or, best case scenario, the unknown. 

And Jungkook had enough experience to know that being around other kids once they got there was not going to save him. These guys clearly had at least two other kids, and these two other kids were clearly spoiled given the junk everywhere. The empty fast food cups in the center console. A tote between Jin and Namjoon with snacks and gum and everything on earth, because the stuff bulging in Jin's purse wasn't enough. A pack of games on the ceiling.

The pocket hanging from the net on the window behind him was ready to fall and explode with all this art stuff. Which didn't really matter anyway, if the lumps under his feet were colored pencils or markers that had fallen or weren't put away properly. The best he could do is hope that the sticky stuff under his leg was some kind of glitter glue or slime or at least didn't have some milk in it. Whenever he looked up at Jin, he got flashes of stuffed animals or something else in the seat adjacent to him -- the reason Jungkook had been assigned to sit here or in the back somewhere. Now, he realized that he should have taken the spot in the back in case this became the third time he would have to maneuver his way into the trunk and find a way to open the back hatch and escape.

Any second now, this van would roll to a stop and these guys would lead him into a mansion to meet all the rotten kids he was going to have to take care of or compare himself to. Or into a respite, just as all these kids run into the yard to see their parents, and he could instantly indicate the favorite child or realize that these guys loved everyone except for him when they are given gifts straight from the trunk after their parents’ day out. 

At least, as the sun hit afternoon and a few cars tailed them or swerved past them coming home from work, Jungkook could take a moment to breathe, knowing these men wouldn't do anything too unhinged around their neighbors.

Or, he tried.

The van pulled into this residential area, the street ahead was normal houses, some old with vines on the bricks or paneling that gave way to mildew from all this spring rain. And really, not much else. A few garden swings, a gazebo, a few flashes of cheap patio furniture. A powerline at the corner of 2nd Place dipped with shoes hanging from it.

Okay, there was definitely no respite or mansion here. But still some sort of stereotypical foster home, at best, where all the stuff he knew was going to happen were still completely possible. And at any moment now, it was about to start.

Jungkook let out a breath as the next curb ahead was littered with road work signs. 

Jin threw his head back into his seat and groaned. He had no choice but to pull into an alley leading away from their neighborhood and follow the detour posts three blocks out. Cars were already piled up on 3rd Place, and he wasn't about to grind through traffic, so he hit the gas and swerved straight into an opening in the middle of the line and let everyone get as angry as they were going to be.

The van treaded at a centimeter a second, into an area that Jungkook had never actually been into before. No clue what half of these stores were supposed to be anyway, especially that big pastel blue corner on the end of what looked like a strip CD shop. The road made the car bump so much that the other bumping cars in front of them and all the flags and canopies and partitions and balloons waving around in the breeze in front of the shops actually looked still and steady.

Jungkook made out the word BBQ on a banner a few blocks down, and instantly it all came together. The crosshatch pattern on the door with a green tinted window and the cross roof with matching canopies over the glass walls on the side of the building, and the duck Mascot out front near the tables – the Gogi Beats on 5th.

His arms pushed past his seatbelt to wrap around his stomach and muffle the sound of grumbling. All the kids at normal school, and even in the classes he went to at the juvenile delinquent building and community center and foster-homeschool groups, always brought up Gogi Beats. Going there after school, breaking out to go during school, having a birthday party or graduation party that weekend and going there, whether it was the one here on 5th or one of the other ones in other parts of the city. But everyone went to Gogi Beats, and the best place to be was Gogi Beats on 5th. Even Jungkook agreed despite not knowing what the inside looks like, until now where he was just close enough to look at the tables behind the glass wall. What people ordered or what they even did there, all he could do was dream, however now there was a smell to go with it, what Jungkook Imagined was probably chicken wings.

Namjoon commented on the time of day, “The traffic on 5th Place is terrible…” 

Jin instantly fired back. “Okay, you drive! Oh wait, you can't!”

The yelling was enough to make Jungkook start shaking a little, but then the blare of a horn behind them had him jolt and kick Namjoon's seat.

Jungkook shrunk back even more. Even with all the drivers around them, the tinted windows and the fact that everyone walking down the street was minding their own business hauling shopping bags or talking on the phone was enough to make both Jungkook completely alone here in a random place, at Namjoon's mercy. There was no way Namjoon didn't feel Jungkook slam his knee and foot into the seat. Particularly as Jungkook noticed this big pocket of junk on the back of Namjoon's seat, hanging off the headrest, so full that it sagged at Jungkook's knee level. Jungkook had noticed it upon getting in, but didn't really care until now when he secretly reached his hand up to feel and realized just how heavy it was, how hard that kick would have been against Namjoon's torso.

But… Namjoon acted like he hadn't noticed. When he sighed and put his head into his hand, it was clearly about how bad this traffic was. 

Another honk from the car behind them.

Jin's window rolled down. His head and shoulder jolted straight out his window and he screamed at the car behind them.

More drivers around them honked at this car laying the horn and now this van behind it, plastered in puffy dog stickers and scratched up with chalk and paint, with a man hanging out the driver side window. If Jungkook couldn't tell what he was even saying, the people on the road couldn't, and that alone pissed them off.

Jungkook's hand gave the pocket thing one more little touch, then pulled away when he realized something in there was just a little personal. Looked kind of like a form or a document that someone would sign, mixed in with a journal and fashion or dance magazines and photos.

He had the courage to grab Namjoon's seat. With all this noise going on, only Namjoon would be able to hear him, and he actually considered speaking. Just asking him if he was okay and saying sorry for the kicking. Or to maybe ask what was going on in that neighborhood and see how much time Jungkook had left before meeting his fate.

But Jungkook's mouth came open, and only a huff came out. 

To his horror, Namjoon turned his head around to look over the headrest. He didn't look directly at Jungkook but just in the general vicinity.

God, Jungkook hated this. Was Namjoon doing the bare minimum of giving him attention while not bothering to actually make eye contact or see what was going on?

“Hm?”

Or was Namjoon waiting, urging Jungkook to talk? Because Jungkook certainly was going to say the wrong thing.

Now Namjoon was giving him eye contact, and turned as far as the seat would let him.

“Yes, Jungkook?” Namjoon's knuckles went to his mouth and eyebrows raised, in listening mode.

Jungkook glanced at his eyes, so full of intent and this weird attention and almost impatience, but not a bad kind of impatience or anything. Then Jungkook looks down to his lap dismissively. Nevermind.

Namjoon only got a little more intrigued. Was Jungkook going to talk, “Or are you just gonna kick me again?”

As casual and dry as it was, it was clearly a problem and Jungkook had clearly fucked up. And he wasn't going to get away with it after all, or maybe Namjoon had originally decided to let it go but now changed his mind.

The car at the beginning of the line finally turned onto another road. A few of the cars behind it moved forward, and now Jin decided he was satisfied. He pulled himself back into the van.

Namjoon stared at him instead now.

There was no need for Jin to do any of this. He already does this every single time in even the slightest traffic jam, and yelling had nothing to do with the traffic fixing itself. Yet Jin still had this smile on his face and was giggling as he followed the line and turned off 5th.

Gogi Beats and the restaurants around it disappeared in the distance and Jungkook was able to take one last glance out the back window. These normal school kids pulled up on their scooters, with the obvious leader jumping a purple bedazzled scooter over the curb.

Jin let Jungkook take one last look at all the punks and traffic. "See that street? It's 5th Place.” Jin explained how they sometimes like to go out as a family and they come to these restaurants and shops when they aren't so busy, however, “You never, ever come out here on your own. Or with your new siblings. You hear me?

Jin didn't want to tell Jungkook the three good reasons why, but Jungkook wasn't going to ask why. He already understood. Both of these guys were completely serious and he wasn't going to figure out what happened when they had to prove that they were serious.

His lips curled in and he nodded.

But then he had a realization. Or, he was desperate enough to see things a different way, and he just entertained the thought for a minute.

Jin said to never come out on his own. To never, ever come out here. And 5th Place seemed to be really far from the home, with how many blocks they passed and how many turns they made, and yet Jin and Namjoon only talked and laughed as if there was at least 5 or 10 more minutes of driving. Deeper into these houses.

At some point – whether it was doing some commute/job by himself or maybe on his own whim, as crazy as it sounded – Jungkook was going to be in the position to go this far away from that house. Jungkook was going to be in charge of himself and was going to have to make some kind of choices, whatever they might be. Jungkook had never done that before. He had never even left a foster home or facility before, even when the whole family went out, or that one time, when there was that fire in the kitchen, he was always behind doors and walls.

Why were Jin and Namjoon doing this? No way they didn't know that Jungkook couldn't handle himself, and certainly never did anything to deserve it. Didn't they know that Jungkook has escaped places before, and that, if things went to hell, he wouldn't fight back but he would do what he needed to, especially if he knew his surroundings?

Landmarks, like the fruit garden at the pink house across the complex or the patch of trees that led out to a trail connected to the woods, was all Jungkook needed. The biggest one? This massive park, with two different swing sets and one of those bulb merry go rounds that he's always wanted. Right next to a bike shop below a loft house and some other public places.

Quiet and calm but not isolated enough for these guys to do anything to him, just yet.

Jungkook tightened as Jin slowed down, and loosened a bit as he realized they were pulling into a pharmacy.

Not the best pharmacy by any means, obviously since there were no cars and one person came in from down the street, but small and privately owned (and only a few minutes from home) was the way to go, especially with Taehyung.

Jin stopped in the first parking space. He looked straight back at Jungkook and said, “Come with me.”

Jungkook froze. Having no clue what to do, because he couldn't tell Jin no, but at the same time, he'd never been in a place like this before, only a crowded grocery store trying to follow the person who was going to beat him when the trip was over and threatened to do it now in the bathroom if he were to fall out of line.

Chapter Text

Jungkook got out of the car on Jin's insistence, he didn't want Jin to have to tell him again.

When he and Jin walked up to the pharmacy, Jin opened the door. The ding of a bell above Jungkook's head made him jolt and flinch, and Jin playfully scolded, “Stop, it's only a little bell, you know.”

Jungkook didn't know why, but Jin being mean to him gave him this rush, a surge. It wasn't like when other people spit in his face or insult him, there was a surge of love behind it. Maybe it made the fear smaller than life, or it made him feel ashamed to have been scared of nothing but without actual shame.

Jungkook walked a bit too closely to Jin as Jin led him in. Jungkook was tempted to cling to Jin's arm – he wouldn't actually do it but he was just close enough that their bodies nudged and bumped every few steps.

Jin was… warm. It went straight through his clothes to Jungkook's arms and face.

Clean clothes. Sure, some stains on his jacket and paint on his shirt that never came out in the wash, but no smoke, no alcohol seeping through his pores or being breathed on Jungkook.

Everything that made Jungkook flinch, like the group of people in big coats brushing past him on the way out of the pharmacy or an order over the intercom, was… Maybe it was actually small. Nothing.

He still shrunk just to be safe and Jin didn't try to push him away, but did surprise Jungkook when he pulled away for a second to reach for the stack of baskets. Even though Namjoon was waiting in the car, surely he'd be fine for at least 20 minutes with his book. He hadn't gotten a chance to finish and had been waiting all week, even if he wouldn't admit it. Jin had to get something for Jungkook. If he wouldn't take that choco pie, it was time to find out what Jungkook couldn't resist.

Jungkook jolted when Jin brought a basket to his chest and ordered, "Do you want to be in charge of shopping, Koo?”

Jungkook froze.

He was their server, wasn't he? Responsible for everything, and this was the first task.

And he'd be the scapegoat when it all went wrong. If Jin (or one of their kids) was to forget something, or the pharmacy was out of what they needed for dinner, or really anything, even the store failing to provide a bathroom, it would be leader Jungkook's problem. If Jin were to lose his cool and throw something, or smash a bottle, it would be on Jungkook.

And… 

“Koo?” Jin said, “You don't have to if you don't want to.”

Jungkook took it as his duty. Safely, for now. He accepted the basket and stayed close to Jin. The aisles went on and on, plenty of things to mess up.

They passed the counter, and the man behind it perked up. “Seokjin! And who is this!” The clerk with a name tag that said Main Manager (and a name – where had Jungkook seen that name before?) beamed straight at Jungkook. He actually leaned over the counter to get a good look, but then he saw Jungkook so spooked and he instantly backed down. And with a very authentic apology, rubbing the back of his neck so much that Jungkook should've been scared. 

Jin apologized to Jungkook too.

Realistic apologies are the first sign, the most dangerous.

However, something about this one was okay. Maybe.

“I'm sorry to be so direct.” With Seokjin's boys, it always depended on the time and day, sometimes Jimin was really going through the motions, this time of year seemed to be hard for Taehyung, everytime Yoongi came in he had to take a minute to catch the vibes to know how to greet him, and any time the bell rang and he turned to see Hoseok he knew he had to have everything in order to make sure Hoseok had no reason to worry or bug him. This new boy with Seokjin had his own situation, whether he was a new one, or a friend in need or some distant friend or relative.

Jin poked at Jungkook and scolded him for being so scared. “Koo, this is the owner. I see him every weekend!”

Jin turned to the owner, “He's getting used to this. He met us 40 minutes ago.”

The manager could only imagine. Where this boy came from. Where he'd been before. The manager had never seen him around town, and he got school kids of all ages riding past his windows every morning and afternoon. He was about to wave – but a dopamine rush from having been scolded by Jin made Jungkook raise his hand first. Not much, only a little flicker at his chest, and eyes now wide with curiosity rather than fear.

The manager asked, “What can I call you? And how can I help you?”

Jin's order was sharp, even as a whisper, “Koo, introduce yourself.”

A good start for when Jungkook would have to meet the family later.

Jungkook grabbed his hat and pulled it past his eyebrows and as far towards his neck as it would go

Jin prodded him. Jungkook had only waved, and there was no reason to hide.

Jungkook pushed into Jin a little, and turned to not face the manager anymore.

Jin was about to pull Jungkook back up to the counter. He already grabbed Jungkook by the wrist, although, this was the first time Jungkook showed any autonomy or control, so Jin sighed and gave in.

Jin spoke for Jungkook, introducing him to Han and Han to him. But not without noticing a tiny smile on Jungkook's face. That glimmer of naughtiness in his eyes as he had won control, even a tiny bit of control and getting his way somehow.

Jin's dirty look in response wiped the grin of Jungkook and Jungkook went back to hiding.

Jin said, “I am here for Tae's prescription, and as we wait, Jungkook can find a snack.” Jin clenches Jungkook. “You're getting a snack, right, Jungkook?”

No wasn't an answer. That included the variants of “no thank you” or “I'm not hungry.” Jin wouldn't take it, or believe it one bit.

Jungkook's eyes sparkled up at Jin, initially startled by the order, but welling up. He'd never had this happen before. Usually he was begging to be able to eat. Arguing that, no, he's not fat, or, “I know I'm fat, but please…”

Yes, he'd had people offer food, but always with a condition, transaction. And avoiding that turned into getting yelled at or having something shoved in his face.

What was he supposed to do here? Of course, follow Jin through the aisle across from the desk, though… What was about to happen? One thing then the next.

The manager called out, “Tell Taehyung I said hi!” then picked up the phone and ordered the pharmacist over the loudspeaker.

Jin spat to Jungkook, “See, he is very nice. “ And the scolding made Jungkook stick to him tightly.

Jungkook could assume Taehyung was their son. He tested his freedom a little further by piping up, “Who's Tae?”

“Your big brother.” And because the family was very open, “He takes medicine for his anxiety.”

"Oh.”

And this was when Jungkook realized… Jin came for Tae, and Jungkook was just an afterthought. Get some food, while they were already there.

Or a complimentary snack. Jin was a good parent, so they would take advantage of this trip and drag Jungkook through the aisle of candy. Chips, chocolate, cookies, lollipops, crackers, flavors Jungkook had never seen before. And at the end of the aisle, soda and juice, and in the cooler, cans and jugs and–

No. Jungkook knew it couldn't have been true. This wasn't just to make Jin look good, or start a debt.

He was a whole person, or was actually hungry, to Jin. Right?

Jin stopped to look at a box of fruit snacks, hoping Jungkook couldn't ignore it and admitted it was what he wanted. Same with the Oreos, Jungkook would be too curious.

Back at the car, Namjoon pulled away from his book at the sight of Jin and Jungkook coming out of the pharmacy. His mouth fell open at the big bag Jungkook hugged to his chest and the five bags Jin toted in one hand so the other could lead Jungkook to the car.

On both their faces was a naughty, winning grin, Jungkook's slathered in chocolate down to his neck and Jin's staring into Namjoon's soul.

Namjoon froze – Jin was crazy, but this was too much – and Jin leapt forward and somehow opened the door for Jungkook. Jin loaded the van with bags and Namjoon got a glance of an entire cake.

“Somehow we thought a birthday cake was necessary.”

Jin cackled like a maniac getting in the van. Laughing so much he couldn't control his hands.

A bag behind the console tipped over and poured with two boxes of shrimp crackers and a whole case of banana milk cartons taken right off the shelf. Jungkook's eyes were big like a deer in headlights and his cheek puffed as a crunch echoed through the van.

Chapter Text

Hoseok went through the dining room to the first bathroom. The door was still shut, Taehyung had been in there for ten minutes now.

“I hope he's not sick.”

Yoongi called from the living room, “He's been fine all day.” Maybe he was sick of himself (or Jimin, Yoongi was getting pretty sick of him). “Come help me with this please…”

Thank God Hoseok had gotten the living room in order ASAP. Not. He'd gotten a few blocks picked up and had slowly coasted around the room to get pieces that Jimin would step on, but was worrying too much about Tae in the bathroom to actually do anything. Yoongi moved the Trouble board and Jenga mess to the floor to make room for wrapping Jungkook's presents – or basically a pile of junk that Jin and Hoseok randomly brought home with groceries yesterday, for each of them to go through and pick what they were going to give Jungkook.

This time, Dad insisted they wrap the gifts themselves, but Yoongi was still doing Jimin's, and Jimin just had to pick the hardest shit. Guitar, lava lamp without a box, a set of canvases, and a punching bag. Yoongi furrowed at the rock that Jimin found outside and drew on.

Apparently Yoongi was doing presents on behalf of Taehyung too.

"Taehyungie! Come pick presents for Jungkook!”

He glared over to the dining room, then he noticed it. Just as Hoseok did. The bathroom door wasn't shut, it was shut-shut. with the latch all the way in the plate and the door tight against the frame.

Jin drove out of the parking lot and down the street as if it was nothing. As if Jungkook didn't just make Namjoon mad (Namjoon literally panicked because “You were supposed to start dinner when we got home”). 

As if Jin didn't buy all this food out of pocket, only for it to be almost gone when he looked back in the mirror.

For some reason, Jin only smiled. Jungkook looked at the box of crackers that had only crumbs left inside, except for the ten crackers that Jungkook had dropped everywhere. His lips curled in – the first time his lips have ever actually tasted good… 

Was Jin sure? This couldn't have been okay. The chances of this being a setup or charity were drastically dropping as the van slowed down in front of some rundown homes, the only one sticking out being the brown duplex with a massive inflatable pool in the back. So it was up to Jungkook to figure out why Jin was how he was… And why Namjoon was letting this happen. Namjoon was actively forcing himself to read the book and not look at the mess Jungkook made.

Just to be safe… Jungkook slipped down and shimmied around his seat belt so it was technically on but he was able to reach his arm to the floor. His fingers scrambled around to pick up the crackers he'd dropped, and suddenly he scratched something plastic. Soft wrap plastic that was more like lamination when he looked at it. Under Jin's seat, a folder.

It wasn't his business, it had nothing to do with him, it really didn't, seriously, but the words COURT APPROVED stamped on a corner kind of said it was. More and more words made Jungkook burn to know what it was. 

It was okay to take just a peek, yeah? If it was private or urgent, it wouldn't have been stuffed away with a shoe print and a lollipop stuck on it.

Then again… Wouldn't that have made Jungkook not important – since his own paperwork had been crumpled in Namjoon's pocket? Or maybe that was just how Namjoon treated stuff that was important to him…

Just as Jungkook pulled the folder out, Namjoon perked up, and Jungkook in a frenzy shoved the folder into his jacket and grimaced.

Namjoon turned up from his book and looked over his shoulder at the commotion. “We got another wiggler.” It was already wild nowadays with Jimin slipping from his seatbelt, Tae feeling the need to touch everyone and Hobi dancing anytime the radio was on. He and Jin now had a fourth wiggler and they were about to deal with something special.

“Jungkook,” he quietly ordered, because he wanted to catch the habit early, “I know we're almost home but you need to have your seatbelt on properly.”

Only for Jin to dismiss it. “Says the one who forgets his seatbelt almost every morning.”

As Namjoon started rambling trying to defend himself, Jin went off about how almost every morning when Jin takes him to the studio, he has to remind him to buckle up.

Jin acted it out, with a mock of “Namjoon, your seatbelt, we need your seatbelt to be on so Jin can start the vroom vroom!” When Namjoon sputtered these excuses and Jin started tearing into him, Jungkook snuck down to the floor. He unscrolled the folder from his jacket and skimmed over.

Hoseok put his head to the door. “Tae?”

When Hoseok thought he heard a sniffle, he leaned down to look in the keyhole. Bobbing his head around found nothing. He didn't want to think that Taehyung climbed out the window, but he's done it before. Surely he was on the floor or in the tub–

Yoongi pushed past Hoseok and snatched the knob. He kept his voice down, but a bit soft like a school teacher mediating a hard situation. Being the oldest, he was in charge – and Taehyung knew he had to answer when called.

Taehyung whispered, “Hyung…” Dry, with all the moisture welling in his eyes and the color going to his cheeks. He shivered, the floor and the edge of the tub weren't warming up the longer he sat, curled up.

Yoongi said, “You have to come out and talk to us.” Otherwise they wouldn't know what was wrong. All they could do was take the high, but not guaranteed chance that Taehyung was safe, given he was responding.

Taehyung's voice hummed into his knees. “Why, Yoongi, why?”

Why was Yoongi Hyung so mean? To Jimin, of all people. And threatening to tell Papa and Dad about the chicken, which happened months ago and Yoongi needed to get over it, and that wasn't even the first time today. Yoongi's been mean to all of them all day. Just that morning, Tae ate Yoongi's fruit by accident and he didn't know until he was almost done and then Hobi came in the kitchen and his eyes went big knowing Yoongi would be mad and then Yoongi woke up and he was mad and he insisted it was fine, but Taehyung knew it wasn't.

Taehyung had been messing up all day too. Not only the fruit but later he'd taken hide and seek too seriously and he hid under the island when Dad was trying to do breakfast and Papa had to put his book away to come stop hide and seek, then Taehyung brought his plushie to breakfast and his plushie's ear tipped Hoseok's juice and… 

They could do presents without him. They were better off, and he didn't deserve it.

Yoongi yelled through the door, “Come out here, right now.”

Hoseok's voice hummed, “Is he safe?”

“How would I know?!” Yoongi's hand shifted the knob around. “Fuck,” it was locked.

Jimin ran in and tried to peek through the keyhole, and the door rattled as he bent sideways, gripped the bottom of the door, and poked his nose and bangs in.

Hoseok tapped him, “Jimin, please, he's really upset.” Jimin responded by throwing himself against the door and brushing his arms on the frame and panels.

Chapter Text

“We're home, Jungkook!”

Jungkook was safe getting out of the car with Jin. Especially when he was the one bearing the house key. Namjoon took orders and carried the bag of groceries – except for the cake, because Jin would rather balance it on his arm while towing keys, purse, and Jungkook's sleeved hand.

Jungkook still gave in to the habit of surveying the area. Not that it mattered, the police wouldn't answer any calls and in the case where Jungkook ran away, it'd be for good reason and nothing would send him back trying to find the place. 

The Kim House was the purple one on the block, two houses down from the duplex. This house was two stories but the upstairs was only half the size of the main floor, he couldn't imagine up to six people being here. The main kitchen window was wide open, enough to show the entire kitchen from the counters to the table to the hallway, all crowded with clothes and notebooks and boxes and game stuff and art stuff, plushies, snacks in jars. So six people really did live here…

And, while the system wasn't all that great, he's had a few good social workers and he's met some very fair judges, so there must've been a reason these men were still open for hostel or foster or bootcamp or whatever this was going to be. They had to have been crazy good in order to keep this running despite a pile of laundry in a doorway, and the hallway and living room destroyed. At least, for these people to stay here and actually… live.

Maybe. 

Jin led him up onto the porch. 

About the pile of trash near the steps: “Don't mind that, sweetie. That's just the trash bag Papa forgot to take to the bin this morning.”

He looked up at Namjoon. Was he the Papa guy? Jungkook never had a dad before–

He looked at Jin, with a brief eye contact. “And you're my mom, right?”

Namjoon smiled so hard his eyes scrunched and his dimples came out.

Jungkook was such a sweetheart, he wasn't exactly wrong. Jin loved everyone and took care of everyone a little more than Namjoon did, and he loved Jungkook from the beginning, where Namjoon felt as though he'd have to learn to love him. So much goes into being the one someone, particularly a child, can love and trust, and Jungkook's case was going to be a challenge making sure he got everything he needed and everything he ever wanted. And they would have to do it quickly because at the end of these two weeks, Jungkook may leave – there was no telling where, be it the streets or a correctional home.

Fortunately, Jungkook seemed to take well to the word Dad, mostly curious.

Namjoon grabbed Jungkook's shoulder and leaned down. “This is your home now. It may take time getting used to being here and getting to know everyone, but–”

Jin said, from his chest with full confidence as he unlocked the door, cake propped under his chin. “You'll fit right in. They're going to love you.”

Jin nudged the door open. “Yoooongiii!”

Then he froze.

Namjoon looked up and froze with his mouth open.

Jin's purse and the cake and keys fell to the ground. His hands came up in shock and he screamed. “AAAAAHHHHH!!!!”

The house… it was destroyed. They left the kids home for less than three hours – they've been alone longer before – and it was trashed. Not normal mess, like Tae's headphones and blanket laying around, or a spilled juice, or homework that was forgotten about. No, the entire living room was swimming in candy and toys. The entertainment center was raided, as if the whole thing besides the TV and game systems had tipped over. What was that? Glitter in the carpet? And this, letters Jimin had taken from the mailbox, ripped open to check, then threw everywhere.

Jungkook's presents!!

Jin raced over to Jungkook, and threw a hand over his eyes. Jin pulled Jungkook close, head buried into his chest “Don't look!”

But Jungkook didn't have time to process what happened. It was just hand over his face, now he was restrained, in close with a giant bony hand squeezing the back of his head.

His heart raced so hard his entire chest burned and ached. Like his body wasn't his, only numb arms, crushed lungs. So tight against Jin that the smell of food or lotion wasn't comforting, there was nothing to see and nowhere to go. 

His instincts flared up.

This was it. When he saw the real Jin come out. Learning this was all a lie, an image for the neighborhood, or for him. Because he was stupid enough to believe it. He let his guard down, created a layer of trust and debt and what else?

Jin couldn't even wait until they got in the house. He was already handling Jungkook like a prisoner, or like a trafficking victim. After yelling at Yoongi, the boy whose name had been all over those documents, Jin was about to do something to Jungkook.

Or, Yoongi was the backup.

No. Jungkook wouldn't have it this time.

When Namjoon bolted into the house, Jin began to follow. But Jungkook wrapped around him tight, and pulled. Clenched at Jin, Jin's clothes, Jin's hair, anything he had to. And he kept fighting, thrashing and smacking. When Jin turned Jungkook around facing outward to hold him safely, Jungkook thrusted around – which only made Jin have to hold him harder, and actually restrain him.

He let Jungkook throw him around, to wear himself out, and waited for openings to get free and grab Jungkook in new places to see what might wear him out or establish dominance, his wrist, his jacket, his neck. 

Jungkook reached back and got one final pull on Jin's hair. Jin's hair was completely tousled, and face flushed, but Jin was still up and strong. 

Jungkook threw his head back and knocked Jin square in the face. Jin stumbled but only held harder.

Jungkook keeled over like a doll in Jin's arms, gasping to catch his breath and recoup as everything spun.

He had to go again. Fight at least long enough to stay safe until he figured out what was going on. Or maybe, just maybe, he could outlast Jin and establish dominance and make things safe again like they were.

And this was a warning for Namjoon to not try what Jin just did.

Jungkook whipped his head back but missed. The grunt barely escaped from how firmly Jin was gripping.

Jin realized how rough he had been, and slowly transitioned to reigning in Jungkook's arms and hugging them around his belly.

“Jungkook!”

Jungkook stretched his mouth wide and went straight for Jin's shoulder. The canines dug deep and his jaw tightened, the skin of Jin's arm swelled instantly.

Jin had to suppress his cry. The sound of them tusseling on the porch, knocking into the trash bag and Namjoon's old bike and the porch swing and Jimin's backpack, was already enough for the neighbors to possibly look out the window. Hopefully as long as Jin didn't cry in pain, the neighbors would assume the thudding was Taehyung and Jimin tormenting each other and no one would bother to look or come out to see what was going on.

He let Jungkook bite until he was ready to let go. Jungkook eventually did – then he wrestled his hands free, grabbed Jin's hand, and brought it to his mouth. He chomped down.

And it hurt. Nothing like Jimin. The marks came on instantly, and were nothing like marks Jimin left on Tae after arguments. Stronger than the 5+ times Tae had brought a dog in the house and it snapped at Jin.

“Aaah!”

While Jin was fazed, Jungkook whipped his head back again.

His hair brushed past Jin's cheek, and his face went straight into a pillar. A wire hanging with lights and metal charms and cardboard ornaments slashed his face.

One spot on his forehead and a couple on his cheeks. Not too bad, only scrapes, but still bubbling with blood.

“Koo! Sweetie.”

Jungkook fell back into Jin, dizzy from such a big whoosh of his neck. Jin could barely stand himself after being whacked in the mouth and going ghost white upon the sight of Jungkook's blood, though he held Jungkook. One hand petting his hair under his hat, and the other gently grabbing his face. “Show me. Let Jin see.”

Jungkook had no choice. He was barely on his feet.

“Show Jin your face.”

Jungkook leaned back into Jin's shoulder. And he saw it.

In Jin's eyes, this guilt. Pain and all these mystery feelings. Not malice, mystery. And it pulled Jungkook's chest. As if Jin Iet this go too far. Or, Jin did this to him in some way.

Namjoon looked around the house.

“Hobi!”

Because if Hobi Iet the house look like this, he could have very well been in danger or having a difficult time.

Same for Yoongi. He only tolerates so much, and even if today was a bad day, hearing Jin call out for him would warrant a sigh loud enough to hear from his room.

“Papa!” Jimin.

“Namjoon!” Yoongi.

From upstairs.

Namjoon took a glance at the bathroom door, and the dining room as a whole. Something had blown through like a tornado – chairs moved out, table twisted with the rug under it a bit more crooked than usual.

This could have been anything, but his mind went straight to Taehyung, meltdown. Particularly when the carpet of the stairs was ripped a bit looser than it'd been when he and Jin left from everyone running up it. Snot dragged up the railing. Tae. A drag in the carpet fibers, Jimin falling down, after chasing Tae.

Hoseok leaned down the railing and poked his head out.

“Papa, he's in your room, the door is locked.”

Yoongi's voice interjected, “It's not. It's stuck. He put shit in the door to jam it.”

“He's not answering.”

Namjoon went up the stairs, to the end of the tiny hallway. Yoongi was clutching the knob, trying to force it with Jimin pulling at his waist.

Yoongi yelled, “Get off me!”

Namjoon pushed past Yoongi and blocked Jimin off.

He went dry and low. “Tae!”

But he couldn't be too stern, or Taehyung would break down more. “Taehyung. It's Papa. Dad is home too. Open the door.”

He listened for breathing, and to possibly determine whether he could use softspeak or if it would enable Tae to hurt himself.

The room was quiet, too quiet.

"Did he take anything with him?”

The room was too small, literally a remodeling of Jin and Namjoon's walk-in closet because Taehyung couldn't sleep alone. It was easy to keep track of what went in, what was in his drawers, plus the loft bed made it difficult to hide anything.

“No,” Hoseok answered. “He was in the bathroom but took nothing with him. I checked.”

Namjoon sighed. He pressed his head to the door. Still dry, but nicer. “Honey, open the door. Come get your towel and shirt,” all shoved under the door, “and pencil and…”

Taehyung would usually weep at being called honey, or he'd let Papa in by now. Especially after Namjoon had the others go somewhere else, now to Yoongi's room.

However, the air behind the door was… crisp. A draft picked up, and waved some papers around.

“I'm coming in there.”

Fearing the worst, Namjoon went to his and Jin's room, and headed though the other door.

There have been times Papa had the three of them go do something. But it was usually a calm recommendation, like, “Why don't you guys go watch a movie, or make some snacks while Tae and I talk?”

Now, it was bedroom. And Yoongi's room, his room having only a bed and desk with shelves and a nightstand with a TV, rather than Jimin and Hoseok's room, which was crowded with two beds, half with Jimin's clothes and art stuff everywhere and half with Hobi's shelves, dance stuff, and their wardrobe.

Yoongi was ready to put some newspaper down for Jimin (honestly, both of these crackheads). Though, things were almost silent, Jimin hadn't said a word or touched a thing. Jimin only sat on the bed, when Hoseok did. Jimin's hands went between his knees, and his lips stuck together as he got lost imagining what happened to Tae.

Hoseok leaning toward the wall trying to listen didn't help. It must have been serious today.

Yoongi couldn't see Jimin like this.

He perked up. “I have something for you to look at–”

Jimin perked up. His smile was naughty, and Yoongi was quick to finish before he got any smart ideas. Or, before Yoongi regretted this.

“You can't touch, you can look.”

Jimin had already destroyed more than ten of his Kumamon figures. Yoongi still hasn't found the one set of puffy stickers, and the keychain Jin had made him during his bead art phase had yet to resurface. And last week, during hide and seek his new camera got broken, Namjoon took the blame, but Yoongi knew full well Jimin was the perp.

Right now, Jimin was hurting, and was about to run off to see the business in Tae's room, so Yoongi thought, he couldn't do too much damage to a basketball.

Yoongi blocked Jimin from following him to the closet. “See, not touch.”

Yoongi dug around in the closet, and when he turned around, in his hands was a ball. So dirty it was almost mustard brown, with clear bumps and lines corroded like the bottoms of their shoes.

Yoongi's head lowered enough for his bangs to sweep, and he rolled the ball in his fingers.

Jimin grinned, waiting for Yoongi to reveal he was just kidding and something much cooler was on the way, or put the ball down out of the way in order to grab the real object. But Yoongi kept spinning it. “Um, it's a basketball.”

Yoongi spat, “No shit.”

Hobi told Jimin, "Be nice.” He also glared at Yoongi with dimples out, and a shadow turning over his face.

Jimin's hands came out to touch, and his fingers wiggled ready to feel it or take it from Yoongi, then he remembered and pulled back.

Jungkook shrunk on the bench in the bathroom, without his hat or jacket, just his T-shirt. This bathroom was warm for some reason, warm enough for Jin to be in a thin sweatshirt.

Bathrooms are usually chilly and sharp with all the tools, or pastel with all the things he wasn't allowed to touch – just go in, pee, sometimes without the light, and get out.

Jin came back from the big cabinet with a small red and white box. He wouldn't sit down on the stool – he couldn't enjoy himself or rest, with Jungkook looking down, sniffling. 

Besides, this would take only a minute.

The click of the first aid kit echoed, it was so quiet in here. Jin pulled out a rag. The one with brachiosauruses, because dinosaurs are cool.

Jungkook's eyes lit up for a second. He'd never had dinosaur things before. The one time he had seen a dinosaur nugget, he was made fun of for wanting to try it and he couldn't even look at it, it wasn't his. Just like the matching robot dinosaurs – brachiosauruses – that all the kids at his second home had gotten for Christmas. “We bought them before you came here” was a perfectly fine reason for him to get nothing for Christmas, but for some reason, it wasn't enough for him. He was a little selfish sometimes.

Which explained what just happened outside, with Jin.

He tucked his hands between his knees,and tried to not enjoy the rag. He didn't deserve it. Or this, the aura of the bathroom, Jin's soft breathing and the rushing of the sink as Jin wetted the rag. And the waft of this really familiar, gentle smell when he firmly lathered it up.

Jin was so quiet. When the loud, fun one goes quiet, it's never good. Jin was mad. Angry. Disappointed. Furious.

What was Jin even doing? Jungkook understood being in the bathroom, he'd been locked in them before and he'd had to sleep in one on two different occasions. But… That box of bandaids, tweezers, thermometer, gauze roll, suckers?

Jin came over, and leaned in. “Show me.”

Jungkook offered his face. Following orders was a way to apologize for earlier. Jin was still flustered, and was clearly exhausted after the fight. 

Jungkook's arms crossed and he teared up.

He was horrible. Disgusting and violent and vile. Now it was time for them to return him, or just…

The cloth was plush on his cheek and Jin's fingers pushed lightly to sweep debri from his scrapes. One was a full slice, like the scratch on his forehead, so Jin puckered his lips to focus. He managed to get everything out, but turned his head around to make sure.

He flipped the rag in on itself to rinse Jungkook's face, when Jungkook flinched away.

He didn't deserve this. No, he deserved for it to sting, and be filthy and just never close up, and… Whatever happened happened. Just like with the scar on his other cheek, almost symmetrical. That scar he got after fighting with his biological brother, over the computer. The day he nearly smashed his brother's face in, and sprained his ankle with the chair, ultimately hurt his brother badly enough for his brother to grab that knife to defend himself. The day where it was so bad, his parents had enough. They weren't safe enough to take him to the ER to get it stitched, they finally went through with all those threats to take him to the orphanage. And he wouldn't have been grateful anyway, it wouldn't have been worth helping him, he would've done something else to prove he didn't need their love once again, right away.

Now Jin was only wasting his time and concern over the most broken person on earth.

He turned his head away from Jin. Jin needed to stay away. Let him go. 

Maybe if Jin got frustrated, he'd get tired. The sooner he got tired, the sooner Jungkook would hear the “Fine. Do whatever you want. No more help from me.” And the sooner he could leave the bench, and go destroy their house, or hurt someone else, or get discovered hurting himself, or get a little too hungry, the better. They would see the mistake they made bringing him here.

“Jungkook... Please.” Jin said. But not one bit frustrated. He twisted to reach Jungkook's cheek, and he followed Jungkook around as he shrunk into the bench.

"No.”

“Give Jin your face.”

Jungkook sniffled. His voice came out like a puff. “No…”

“Yes. Give me your face.”

A tear rolled off Jungkook's lashes. Another came out and clumped with it, and they were thick and salty in the wound.

Jin did a quick swipe, and got the soap off. But at the cost of reopening the skin and making Jungkook brace inward. New tears ran straight into the wound and Jin needed to clean and cover as soon as possible.

He tried to reason with Jungkook. “Give Jin your face so we get the pain out.” He noticed Jungkook still taking glances at the first aid box and the way he clenched anytime Jin touched the rag to him, so Jin went soft and explained, “We have to do first aid. Wipe your face better and put stuff on it to keep it safe.” 

If the cuts here were as bad as Jin thought or if it was only him wanting to faint at the sight of the blood, he couldn't tell.

And Jungkook wouldn't let him see. Okay, he asked for it.

Jin whispered, sharp but in a childish tone, “Oh no…” His free hand crept toward Jungkook, slowly reaching for his chin. “It's about to grab your face.” 

Jungkook lowered, yet there was nowhere to go.

Jin's fingers came closer. Fingers wiggling, ready to grab. Wiggling faster and faster as Jin clicked his tongue, “Wuduwuduwuduwudu…”

Jin was so close. Sweating a little, because this could go any way. Jungkook could completely collapse, or give in, or start crying and in that case, Jin would have to decide whether it was right to take advantage of him freezing and just get this done or not. Jin also knew full well that Jungkook could start fighting and thrashing again. And with the sink right over there, sink and shelf loaded with hair appliances and scissors and sewing stuff, then the tub and toilet close by, it was going to hurt like a bitch if and when Jin fell.

He stopped his hand at Jungkook's shirt collar and dug his finger in. Wiggle wiggle. “Wooga woogaaa… wogawogawogawoga.”

Jungkook's neck tightened. He couldn't hide the smile coming on his face.

What Jin was doing, Jungkook had never seen anything like it. Jin was being weird, and he knew it – he was smiling too.

Seeing Jungkook's smile go to his eyes and show full teeth had Jin wiggle harder, up his neck. He poked Jungkook's chin. Hearing Jungkook's snicker made it hard for Jin to say “Moop” without hitching trying not to laugh.

Jin's finger went out straight and poked Jungkook's neck. “Moop.”

Then his healthy cheek. “Moop.”

Then his neck. “Meep.”

Jungkook snickered so hard he couldn't see, his head whipped away and only opened his neck for Jin to dig his finger into it. Jin did another “Meep.” Poke. “Meep.” Poke. “Woop woop.” He had to lean down more to keep up with Jungkook, and up and down and left and right, but he got Jungkook's full cheek in view.

He closed his hand on Jungkook's chin and gently held him still. He switched to poking with the hand holding the cloth.

“Woop.”

He gave the wound a swipe to rerinse it, then drove his finger into Jungkook's ear to make him giggle, then patted Jungkook dry.

The scrape was clean. Jin checked for more scrapes before he moved to Jungkook's forehead.

But first, poke. “Woop.”

The back of his hand brushed Jungkook's hair away.

Forehead warm. But so were Jungkook's eyes when he was able to open them. This was the first time Jungkook had laughed, or even smiled in so long. He didn't know how to, he was just scrunching his nose.

However Jin couldn't smile anymore after he got a good look at Jungkook's forehead. No more bleeding, but very rough, skin peeled and split. This had to be covered with ointment.

He was about to turn around to get the box and ask Jungkook if he wanted to help, until the bathroom door opened. Namjoon came in.

“Namjoon, sweetie. Can you get me the first aid, on the sink?” Jin finished wiping Jungkook's head. “What's going on out there?”

Namjoon was caught up with the sudden ask, and went straight to the cabinet. No box. He spun around and moved around the bathroom searching for the box.

Jin was ready to scream at Namjoon, but kept it low. “It's right on the sink. You saw it when you walked in, no?”

Namjoon scrambled to grab it. As he brought it over, he leaned in and told Jin as calmly as possible, “We have a Code Bear.” 

He hadn't found Taehyung hiding anywhere, he'd searched the attic and even under the porch.

Jin dried Jungkook. He had to hurry.

Namjoon paused. Jungkook's face was banged up, despite being freshly clean. A shadow of bruising took over the side of Jungkook's face. Jin's arm was stiff, even the sleeve of his sweatshirt was crumpled with tiny marks as if he'd been bit by something, it was all over his hand too, past the slight swelling.

“What happened?”

Namjoon was already white from Tae being missing, but it'd happened many times before. Here, Jungkook could have done this to himself, or could have had a medical emergency, the possibilities endless.

He gave Jin ointment, bandaids, and he would wait to give Jungkook a sucker. While Jin ran off to check the treehouse for Tae, because Namjoon falls on his face or breaks something every time he tries to get up there, Namjoon stayed here.

Namjoon crouched down at Jungkook's level. He took Jungkook by the hands and glossed over the cuts and bruises prior to looking him in the eyes.

He wasn't mad, not exactly happy at all but neutral. “What happened?”

Jungkook looked down at his lap.

Namjoon spoke more clearly, it almost sounded stern, but was still neutral. “Hey. Look at me.”

Jungkook's hands pulled away. His arms crossed and his head dipped. Eyes watered again. But he held back, he wasn't allowed to cry, and stew and suffer after what he'd done to Jin. 

Namjoon went for a more specific question, “What happened to your forehead? Hmm?” Namjoon lowered, and he brushed Jungkook's bangs back. He patted Jungkook's shoulders and ran his hands up and down his new son's arms. As Jungkook sniffled and tears fell from his nose, Namjoon told him, “It's okay to cry, but you need to talk to me, okay?”

Jungkook peeled away.

No, he deserved what happened to his forehead, cheek, spirits.

Surely Namjoon truly cared, but how could Jungkook know he wasn't here to rub it in his face? Push the lesson in, or make sure he felt guilty and stayed guilty?

“Talk to me, please?” Namjoon got a sudden realization – “Hey, do you want me to get you a book and a pen, so you can write it to me?” Mutism wasn't mentioned on Jungkook's record. But Taehyung's social worker also didn't relay many things, and he spent his whole first month here without a word. Rumor had it, he now talked when the adults were gone and Hobi was around, though otherwise, Jin still hadn't heard a thing and Tae wouldn't speak directly at Yoongi but he was safe whispering to Namjoon. So Namjoon understood that may have been the case for Koo.

Jungkook's knees came up and he hugged them tight, closing himself in. His head shook like crazy, and now he was trembling.

Namjoon's head followed him down. “What do you want to do?”

Namjoon probably should have offered him a break, or a place to lay down, but Jungkook was guaranteed safe here on this bench. Not alone. Not in a random room, an unpredictable environment.

He just hoped Jin could handle Taehyung. He expected Tae to listen, he was typically good for Jin, though sometimes he needed Namjoon. And that was in the hopes that Tae was in the treehouse or in the vicinity.

Chapter Text

Taehyung curled up tighter under the porch. He stared with mouth fallen open, as Jin moved through the yard. Jin should have stayed home, and cooked and laughed with everyone else, and been happy. Not out there, leaping up onto the treehouse ladder, calling out, “Taetae!”

And when Jin were to find him, he'd be all over him. “What's wrong, Tata? Tell me what happened, sweetie.”

Jin was only burdening himself. And at some point, in the next year that Tae was signed to live with the Kims, Jin would see it, and decide enough was enough, and do something to show Tae his place. Worse than screaming, he– he didn't know. Namjoon would be logical, and decide what punishment was best.

Surprised Jin, Namjoon too, still let him into their house. Chased him like this.

 Tae could survive on the streets, or at his aunt's. They could take him back to his aunt's house, where he was just three months ago. She was never burdened, she never let Tae get in the way. His brothers and sisters who couldn't behave had been kicked out right away – well, he never knew what happened to his big sister, his aunt had gotten enough of Tae before he could see how that turned out.

The street corner of Main and the big liquor store was perfect. She took her van, a van that could have been driven by anyone especially with all the windows being tinted. When she pulled up, it only took one scream to get him out of the van, and onto the curb.

The piles of snow were as solid as the ice splotched over the road, and there was nowhere to sit. Nowhere to run, or even look as more snow fluttered and mist blocked out signs, faces that passed by.

His beanie and coat was enough to make the people think he was there for a reason, or belonged. Really, he only told himself that. They didn't care, the adults in their suits had places to be, the one man with a doctor's badge actually had an emergency to tend to and couldn't spare the time or energy to check on some kid. Same for the police, because Tae had done that to himself, Tae had put himself in that situation. Made himself abandonable. And his aunt did the right thing, what she needed and what he clearly wanted.

Because almost two years in the institution before that, after his grandma died, hadn't been enough to teach him that he can't just go around, touching stuff, saying (rather, handsigning) whatever he wanted whenever he wanted. That life isn't and never was about him, and he's only bound to ruin it for everyone else. He was so good at ruining things and being so empty, worthless, that his parents hadn't been able to handle more than a year of looking down at baby Taehyung, the thing they'd created out of love only for him to fail them.

The same love that Jin and Namjoon kept pressing for, without realizing the truth.

Every time Tae cried, Namjoon thought he had to come talk to him, or hug him instead of doing what he wanted. And Taehyung only used him, and took advantage of him. Tae knew that Namjoon, often Namjoon and Jin both, would drop everything to help., yet Taehyung always chose to break down, crying and sobbing and whining.

Namjoon only let Taehyung hug him, sit on him, crawl in their bed because Taehyung knew exactly how to make them feel bad. Refuse to calm down or suck up whatever was wrong, or hurt himself by doing something dumb, and then cry and refuse to stop, and not try hard enough to stop crying when he no longer needed to. Just like he was doing today.

He manipulated his new family, again. Made Hoseok and Yoongi stop doing presents and come stand at the bathroom, because he got a little offended. In reality, Tae had caused the whole thing, he'd fought with Jimin instead of simply being good and playing. 

That's all he had to do, be good. And he failed. Yoongi was already mad at him (Tae should have known how easy it is to piss Yoongi off or make him act petty, yet he did this shit and got surprised when Yoongi was mean).

Taehyung probably made Jimin's eating problems worse. Tae, one week a month, lays in bed and hears Namjoon and Jimin sitting in bed talking about food. Making charts and monthly goals and art, watching movies at 2am during Jimin's flare-ups. Playing games where Jimin earns candy. During the flare-ups, all Jimin can stomach is little snacks and treats, because he really can't resist.

And Tae just screamed at him for eating candy.

Now Tae was destroying their porch. Tucked away. Scraping at moss on the pillar, scoping up mulch and petting the little leaves and flowers that somehow survived the lack of light down here.

“No shit,” Yoongi said.

But actually, it wasn't a basketball.

Yes, it was a basketball, duh. But the swatches of dirt and drinks from and painted pavement didn't make it trash, the scribbles all over it didn't mean it was old or useless. Maybe it was a little flat, enough to sink into his fingers the more he fidgeted with it, and the inflation hole was pushed in with duct tape – still, it wasn't junk. like how Jimin was smiling awkwardly, trying to figure out why Yoongi had this big piece of trash in his closet and was showing him this.

Hoseok couldn't exactly understand either, he was just being nice and watching and smiling. 

The way Hoseok said, “Thank you for showing us,” made Yoongi think Yeah…

So, maybe it really was junk. It really couldn't have been used for anything. Not like it really proved anything or made his bio family proud of him. This ball was kind of the only reason he survived all of that shit, with his school, with his family. But that was just it – thinking back, he'd gotten through because of a piece of rubber with air in it. Running around with it. Not even in a real court, a big brick room with black and white lines on the floor and a cluster of chairs underneath some stars and flags on the wall.

if Yoongi had been able to stuff the ball away for a whole 2 years to hide it from his bio dad, and has been living here for over 6 months with these losers who only love him because “family” without having to take the ball out until now, maybe it really, actually, was just that. Trash.

This thing smelled pretty rank anyway. Yoongi not only placed it back into his closet, but dug around past a ton of other stuff in order to really hide it away.

Hoseok tried to be nice. “Don't worry. Dad and Papa can get you a new one.” Missing the point entirely.

Hobi was about to apologize or dig into Yoongi for not saying something sooner, because he would have put his allowance towards it, despite paying towards dance stuff and other gifts for birthdays and Christmas and–

A box fell from Yoongi's closet and hit the floor. And for a second, Hoseok got a sight of something. A whiff too. His head cocked.

Now he didn't want to be accusatory, and he didn't mean to be nosy. He didn't want to say that it was what he thought it was, because his new brother is a very good person. Yoongi had issues before, and yes, he did break the promise he made to Dad that he was not going to start smoking again twice now – the last time being the the morning of family therapy at 5am, getting caught on the roof with a billow of smoke when Namjoon was chasing Tae through the alleyway. That second time was generally a time of stress. Yoongi was better than that. Situations like this call for positivity and hope. Highly likely that Yoongi wassimply holding on to some cigarettes. Yes, he was keeping a pack just to feel safe and secure. Less anxiety to know that if he severely needed a fix, it would be there. Owing them did not mean doing them, and it didn't exactly mean temptation.

Hoseok would say something to Dad and Papa, and then stay out of it. That was if that little white box was even cigarettes, and not something else.

The lighter there, though, he couldn't keep looking at. He had to pretend it wasn't there, completely erase it from his memory. There was no lighter in Yoongi's closet, or hoodie pocket in the corner of the room.

Yoongi's fingers weren't yellow.

As for Jimin's fingers, Yoongi had noticed. The second Jimin had reached out for the ball, Yoongi saw just how thin they've gotten in the past week. Shaking, like his smile.

Yoongi squinted at Jimin. 

Jimin knew exactly what this was about, and laughing only made it worse.

The past two weeks, Jimin had been picking at his food during meals. Especially breakfast today. And not because he didn't like what was being served – Jin wasn't that kind of parent, Jin would literally bake three cakes or five pizzas a day if his kids ate nothing else. Hell, they had nothing but Panda Express and fruit salad except for some steak Yoongi requested for Taehyung's first three days here after Taehyung tried Panda Express for the first time and loved it.

Jimin was merely gettin by. Easing the bare minimum to not arouse suspicion.

The sugar rush was coming on strong.

Yoongi wouldn't mince words. “If you eat dinner tonight, I won't tell Jin or Namjoon about the chicken.”

Jimin's stammering wasn't good enough to fool Yoongi. “What do you mean? I eat dinner.” All the time. Every – almost every – day. 

“No, you pick at it.”

Or do yoga or extreme dancing, even when he's sick. Yoongi hears Jimin fall and crash into the wall all the time. Notably weekends before school events or nights out.

Hoseok had to agree. He couldn't help but steal another glance at the lighter in the closet, though he snapped back. He was soft with Jimin, “I thought I noticed as well.”

Yoongi sighed. There was no reasoning with his brat brother, so, “Eat everything on the plate tonight. And make it a good plate. Same for breakfast.” Or else, he was telling.

Jimin smiled harder at the mention of breakfast. He protested. “Noooo…” He came forward and clung to Yoongi's arm. And he pulled, and pressed with both his fingers and his eyes. He jerked Yoongi, as far as he could go, and spun around Yoongi's arm.

“Yes.” Dry, simple. No room for bickering. Jimin actively fought to have the last word, despite Yoongi not even saying anything.

“Yoon Hyung…”

“No.”

“Hyung…..

“Lunch too.” Jin will likely be taking them out for a picnic, with the new kid, if Namjoon has to go to the studio or school. Yoongi could only pray Namjoon decided to skip normal Saturday routine so he could help with the kid, and keep Tae contained.

Picnics have always been harder for Jimin to sneak with no food, to get away with not eating and also to deny bento and three mochi for him, and separate box of dumplings Jin packed so Tae and he wouldn't fight.

“Yoon Hyung!” Jimin trailed with a whine. He yanked Yoongi's arm, tugged the scar tissue inside his shoulder.

Yoongi's breath seethed through his teeth. He couldn't cry out, it would scare Jimin.

Yoongi only lowered to take the pressure off his shoulder and tried to move with Jimin until he could compose himself. “Okay, I get it. Let go please.”

Jin stepped back onto the porch to get a jacket for Tae, in case Tae ran off down the street or in the neighborhood. It was getting chilly.

Namjoon's work jacket was perfect.

Just then, a hitch of Tae’s breath came through the gaps of the plank.

Jin popped his head under the porch. His smile was already eager to find Taehyung, he knew he was down here somewhere and he had to dart his eyes side to side until Tae surfaced.

Branches and muIch in the far corner swished. A pile crackled as Tae shifted back into the shadows.

Tae had stopped crying but he was still plump, drooling and gasping to mask his sniffles.

Jin had to be as casual as possible. If he directly accused Tae of running away, or implied Tae had done something terrible and ran to escape, then Tae could very well back up far enough to see the gap between the foundation of the house, and if he went in, who knew what would happen. Tae hates the brigade, firemen, and policemen and half of the neighbors who would probably come to volunteer to help. “Hi, Tata. Really nice out here, good day to get some air and flowers, yeah?”

Tae wasn't buying that. His heart lips warped and he hugged his knees. Jin needed to stop, and go home. Make food. Laugh.

Taehyung was good here.

“Papa's home. You want to go see Papa?”

Tae's mouth moved. The no couldn't come out.

The frowning made it almost invisible, however Jin knew him too well. “You don't want to meet your new brother?”

Tae mouthed again and shook his head.

No. No. No. Namjoon was only going to be convinced he did nothing wrong and forgive him.

Every time they forgive him, which Jin already has, it was letting him hurt them once again. and it was one step closer to them finally realizing just how horrible he was, and leaving him somewhere even worse than the orphanage. or worse than the alleyway. His grandma actually died from the stress of dealing with him, when all she had wanted to do was live and work her market job and have her little form and do her puzzles and go to church and…

Jin and Namjoon were building up their own problems and making it even worse for them later on when enough is enough or when someone dies, or they both die.

Even if Namjoon loved Tae for real, and his death wasn't caused by Tae, Namjoon was still going to leave him one day. and the same for Jin. They were, what, 30? and getting old. Tae never met Jin's mother on Christmas or birthday or anything, so that must have meant she was dead and now her kids were old enough that they were next. Just like Tae's uncle, big brother right after Tae was kicked out, and grandfather, and year 3 teacher. His year 4 teacher, and half the biological family and friends he'd managed to make at school, had all left town, and if he were to ever get the chance to go see them again or in the chance that they had even a shred of desire to come see him, it wasn't going to happen because they were gone. The boy he thought he was best friends with, they were supposed to love each other forever, lost and never came to see him at the institutions or his aunt's house, probably never even tried to figure out where Tae went to begin with and never cared.

Jin needed to accept that. And know that Tae knew the truth.

Jin was crazy. Obsessed or something. Maybe pity. Same for Namjoon. Sometimes Hoseok. Hoseok had gotten left too, he knew how it works.

Jin hummed and said, in a dramatic tone. “You don't want to meet Jungkook???”

Tae buried his face and shook his head faster.

This new brother was going to die or only live here for two weeks. And he was going to hate him, he already did. They were all having fun in the house without him. Taehyung spent the last five minutes listening to Namjoon's laughing and soft talking, though the fondation. And the Jungkook he was talking to wasn't responding, so he was either extremely mean or was so happy with Papa that he couldn't stop smiling or laughing.

Or… he was scared. Papa finally broke. Papa hurt him, and Tae was next.

Or Tae was going to ruin the special moment. Papa and Jungkook.

Jin lowered and tried to get his upper body under the porch with Tae, “We don't have to meet him right now. But you need your medicine. And Papa. You don't want to see Papa???”

Tae looked up as Jin managed to get his shoulders and head down, and shimmy in with a few moops and meeps.

On Jin's arm was… Namjoon's best jacket.

The inside still had the stains…

Slush and mud from when Jin and Namjoon had found him on the street corner, ran up to him, and forced him to put his hands in Namjoon's jacket to warm up.

The neck was still splotted, from his tears when Namjoon had given him his first hug since his grandmother died. And the pocket where a handkerchief or pen goes was ruined – from when they'd bought Tae that dumpling at that food cart, and the dumpling exploded in Namjoon's hand, before Namjoon decided to reach for his wallet with the same hand.

Chapter Text

Namjoon sorted through the kitchen. Fingers crossed he didn't do the wrong thing leaving Jungkook alone in the bathroom, even for a minute.

When Namjoon swung open the cabinet above the fridge, a pile of boxes came crashing down. He moved out of the way just as a jar flew out, and tumbled at his feet.

Then he remembered, Jin stopped keeping them in here, because Tae (and rumor had it, everyone else) kept pulling the chair over to sneak one, another, one more.

Where did Jin put them again?

The living room floor was littered with candy so clearly the suckers Jin made were somewhere obvious.

Jungkook's legs shifted in his arms and his head raised from his knees. This bench, while actually super comfy, was… Liminal. Like a waiting area, or a corner for haircare, Skincare. Jungkook wasn't supposed to be here.

For some reason, Namjoon just… left.

The bathroom door wasn't completely shut, so no way Namjoon intended for Jungkook to be stuck or trapped.

Why wouldn't he lock it? Obviously, he was busy, banging around on the other side of the house. Swinging multiple doors, even moving though the living room. And why he left Jungkook here to possibly escape, or destroy something, or hurt himself was beyond Jungkook.

So much to destroy here. Half the bathroom was… stuff. Hair stuff Jungkook knew was expensive – the girl in his previous home actually had to steal one of those wand things. And that iron with the paper on it, Tae do not touch was just like the one that this boy in his class at normal school had to get two jobs to afford. Jungkook was (almost) sure no one here had a job, given the school uniforms hanging and crumpled up. And Jin, hopefully Namjoon, would never steal.

Jin would buy anything. Safe to say Namjoon would, too.

Jungkook's head went down. Yes, Namjoon was out there tearing stuff apart, but… Not really, Jungkook's seen people actually destroy things.. Namjoon was a good person.

Bathroom, like everything else, was trashed. But it was theirs. And it was home. Jungkook would have been stupid to think otherwise.

When the door creaked, it was hard to put his head back up, but he gave Namjoon eye contact.

Namjoon blinked, confused for a moment, then he quickly transitioned to teacher mode. He stayed neutral. A lot has already happened. Being neutral was key– clear voice, soft eye contact and a smile ready for when Jungkook earned it, and a sucker in his pocket, in case Jungkook wanted to open up. At least enough to feel better.

And it seemed to make Jungkook more secure.

Teachers are typically safe, he's had one kind teacher who always handed out snacks and then gifts like notebooks and shoelaces before holidays. One teacher, Jungkook could never mess up around, even looking in the wrong direction or using the wrong pitch when speaking got a smack from a ruler, however her being the the one who noticed the yellow bruises on his back and decided to call his caseworker to get him out of that New Day group home before his 10th birthday had made up for that. Instructors in the institutions were always neutral – maybe numb was a better word. Numb was also a better thing to be when most of them had enough power to get a student into serious trouble and enough training to make life hell, worse than a guard or nurse. Most were numb, and either a person did work or slumped over a table, not their problem.

As Namjoon held it together for a whole minute, just sharing eye contact and waiting for Jungkook to do something, Jungkook could tell something was different about Namjoon. And not only was Namjoon not burdened or upset, he was… not able to be burdened there was nothing Jungkook could do to make Namjoon upset or break his patience. At least here in the bathroom. That didn't mean he couldn't or wouldn't make Namjoon crumble. Around the house somewhere.

Namjoon has been patient for ten minutes, after Jungkook had hurt Jin, and with the Code Bear thing which could only mean the worst. Namjoon had been calm and collected all morning. Namjoon only had so much, it was a matter of time before… Snap. Or yell. Or whatever he did.

Jungkook ought to trigger it now, waste no time and do minimal damage by simply doing something to make them take him back or call the police right now. Or maybe he ought to try running again, or fighting. Or…

Namjoon wouldn't let him.

Jungkook had to chill a little. And see where things went. He could behave and not hurt Namjoon. He could try to enjoy being here.

Home.

Focus on the stuff in his peripheral vision. And not millionaire decor and paintings. No ringing vent and automatic toilets and sinks, and ammonia floor. Real stuff, hair stuff and clothes and stuff. The plant hanging above the mirror was fake, probably because no one was able to take care of it, yet there was a cactus on the counter, and a line of magnolia pots near the window above the tub. For each bottle of pills or box of cute bandaids or in the shelf surrounding the mirror, there was some random cat sock on the floor or stain on the rug.

The home stuff. 

Jungkook's grip on his knees went softer.

Namjoon said, “Jungkook.”

Jungkook stared into the distance. Clearly lost. Not exactly distraught.

“I asked you a question.” 

In fact, “I've asked you three times.”

Namjoon took a deep breath. How long was he going to be waiting for an answer? He legitimately couldn't tell if Jungkook didn't want to respond, or had some serious attention problems. Jungkook wasn't scared, or he would have been shaking and his face wouldn't have been going back to the color it was when they'd first walked into Jungkook's holding room.

Namjoon's tongue went into his cheek. Jungkook leaned back at the slight furrow of Namjoon's brows, so he instantly moved his tongue away and he crouched to shrink himself.

“Jungkook.”

Jungkook processed something, near the sink, something red. Like… a Spiderman thing? Spiderman hoodie.

Big hoodie. Had to have been Jin's, he was silly enough.

Jungkook could remember that time, that single time, he'd seen Spiderman on screen, with his eyes, instead of overhearing it through the walls. The brothers of that one charity family were watching all three movies on that April day, and Jungkook knew he wasn't allowed in the theater or even that part of the house but he couldn't sleep and he only wanted a peek and… It was… Wow.

From that day, all of his dreams that were inspired by the sounds of the Iron Man movie and that cartoon were so much more vivid. And finally came back, a whole year after he had watched a nurse in the institution destroy his Iron Man socks. 

Both times, after the socks were cut off him for having a twisted ankle, and then after he was taken from the charity house and put back in the institution and started talking about Iron Man, the staff later found his comics in his pillow. The ones Jungkook made weren't pawnable, so in the trash they went.

Namjoon tried another question. Breaking it down might work.

“May I ask you about your,” he pointed at his own nose, deciding whether or not to use the term rhinitis, and if Jungkook's issues were limited to just that, “nose?”

He was expecting Jungkook to shake his head, or submit. Instead, nothing. Jungkook stared.

Alright.

Namjoon got in Jungkook's face. He lit up into a smile, a fake one but full with dimples and bright eyes. “You want a sucker, Jungkook?”

Jungkook broke out of it. Namjoon was moving around a lot, pulling something orange from his pocket. It crinkled in his fingers.

“Jin makes these for Taehyung,” he said. He didn't wait for Jungkook to say yes, Jungkook tucking his lips between his teeth was plenty. “Tae wouldn’t mind. He’s really nice.”

And Jungkook seemed like an orange person. Yoongi loves citrus, Tae too. Jimin, so long as it doesn't have mango. Every time Jin makes creamsicle or swirl punch or plain orange candy, even Jin and Namjoon pop a few a week.

When Jungkook saw the sucker, his hands came up and he perked up, more confused than anything as if it was his first time.

Because he'd never had one close enough to his face to be able to smell it. Suckers were always in a cup on a desk, for decoration at a bank (Jungkook learned that early on, when his first foster mum had swat his hand for reaching over) or were for good kids only which Jungkook never was.

Jungkook wanted to speak so badly, his lips moved. But I'm not good.

Especially not for this sucker. It wasn't from a bag made in a factory or bought at the store. But hand stirred, cloudy like the sugar had hardened just a bit too fast, and swirly, like the color of love. 

He turned his head. He wasn't good.

Namjoon placed the sucker wrapper on Jungkook's lap, then the sucker on top. He could decide whether he wanted it, however there was an added pressure to not waste it now that it was open. Perhaps Jungkook wouldn't be able to help himself, the same way he'd picked at that open box of crackers.

Jungkoook tried shaking his head, it was hard to not look. But he had to resist.

He wasn't good. He didn't deserve it. He was horrible all morning, Jin gave him snacks then he beat Jin up, Namjoon was being nice and wasting it on someone who didn't earn it…

And…

Namjoon took Jungkook’s hand, and guided it in the right direction. Careful not to close it all the way around the sucker, like he was afraid of crushing something fragile between them, just enough to push the idea. To make the sucker feel normal in his hand. 

Namjoon pulled away, hand in his pocket.

Jungkook's eyes darted like he was waiting for someone to yank it out of his hand and tell him no. Rather for Namjoon to change his mind.

But that was stupid. Right? Namjoon was going this far to give him something, and it wasn't a trick, so… 

Maybe he could try it.

Jungkook watched Namjoon fish a sucker from his pocket, casually unwrap it, and slip it in his lips. Like it was normal. Always had been.

And Namjoon himself wasn't good, or perfect.

Surely Tae wasn't. The front door swung open, and in came Jin, and footsteps behind him. Jin's voice bounced through the dining room, sharp, digging into Tae for running away.

Tae had so many tears that smearing them away from his eye was as loud as his sniffling.

Yet Namjoon pulled a third sucker from his pocket, probaby for Taehyung.

Namjoon squeezed Taehyung's sucker, and got up. He twirled his own sucker in his mouth with a raise of his brows at Jungkook as he left the bathroom.

Hoseok and Jimin looked at Yoongi's door, to the sound of Jin coming upstairs. Then Yoongi shut his closet and headed over to open the door.

Jin's voice whined through the house, “So you grounded them up there?”

Namjoon’s trailed, “No, I sent them up there until Tae came back.”

Jin came through Yoongi's door. “Yoongiii!!!”

Yoongi sighed and followed Jin to the hall. “Coming.” Not that he didn't want to help with dinner or whatever was going on with the new kid – better than entertaining these assholes – but he didn't want them, namely Jimin, here alone with his room open. 

The bane of living here? No padlock on the door, like at his bio parents' house. Yoongi wasn't able to push a pin into the lock under the knob with Jin here and Jimin and Hoseok breathing on his neck.

“Keep them out of my room!” He headed down the stairs. He had to lurch down a few of them, in order to not groan from the pressure change in his shoulder.

Jin called for Hoseok and Jimin. Hoseok took Jimin down the hall and said, “I can help cook too.”Mainly cleaning, also stirring or collecting ingredients.

Namjoon slipped his sucker back in the wrapper into his pocket, then approached Taehyung at the door.

Tae could barely stand straight facing Namjoon. He was still hiding in Namjoon's jacket. He would keep it pulled around himself and bask in the smells, or what he got through all the congestion and sniffles, until he was told to come out.

Namjoon's hands went between his thighs and he leaned, almost to Taehyung's level. He didn't smile but stayed soft. Mostly to reward Tae for having not gone far or done anything to hurt himself. Only a few twigs in his hair and a patch of dirt on his hand.

“Hey sweetie. Where did you go?”

Tae's lips whimpered. Namjoon's eyes followed Taehyung's gesture toward the door, and downward to imply under the door to the porch. Taehyung pulled the jacket tighter around him and hid between his shoulders. He cried towards his hands, I'm sorry, then to the floor. I'm really sorry.

“We don't do that, okay?” Namjoon faded into a hum. They'd been through this multiple times, Tae could get very badly hurt or possibly get lost, he was old enough to go out on his own but feelings come on strong and things happen, and Taehyung wouldn't be able to communicate with any stranger or police, or get through some parts of the city if something horrible happened.

Taehyung's head came up, and flicked backward hard enough for tears to stream toward his ears. Forgive me, please.

Namjoon grabbed his shoulders. “No sweetie, I can't forgive you.” He stayed neutral as Tae broke down. “You made a mistake. It could have been a bad one.”

Jungkook poked his head out the bathroom door. He knocked the sucker around between his teeth and cheek, as he checked the house. The crying came from somewhere. What Namjoon was saying wasn't clear, except “bad”.

Oh God, this sucker was fantastic.

Like, what.

The crying and Namjoon speaking became more tangible as Jungkook crept out, past the dining table. Hands against the wall to navigate past the chairs. Three matching the table, down to the engraved legs, one matching in color, two patio chairs, and this bench thing on the wall.

The fourth that came with the table was in the corner, on one leg and propped up by a pile created by the other legs, an umbrella and a broken trash bin.

Just as he'd thought, six people here.

Seven seats Technically room for nine.

Coincidence, maybe. Guest chair…

Namjoon was past the corner, by the front door.

“There are other things you're supposed to do instead, Tata. You are able to communicate or make a choice for yourself, and you deserve it.”

The boy wrapped up in a jacket shook his head.

“Yes.”

No.

“Yes.”

No!!

“I'm so glad you're home. I love you.” Namjoon eased back up to normal height and his hands moved up the boy's neck. He fluffed Tae's hair, and finally smiled, he couldn't hold back.

No. Impossible.

“We all do.”

No.

Namjoon wanted to ask why not, or what happened earlier when he was alone with his still new brothers, but Namjoon broke it down. “Will you speak to me?”

Tae's lips pursed. He was willing to look Namjoon in the eyes despite the guilt, though, and that was good progress.

Namjoon stroked hair from Tae's face. “Do you want to write for me?”

He could tell Tae was apprehensive, for good reasons. Reasons Namjoon didn't, may never, know, but still valid. “I would like to ask you what happened.”

Perhaps a sucker would help?

Jungkook froze in the doorway, big eyed.

He'd never heard half of this in his life. If an adult didn't want to bother screaming, it was a swat, or simply ignored. Strict parents pry, yeah, but Namjoon wasn't strict, at all.

Why didn't Taehyung just… talk? There was, or didn't seem to be, a punishment for speaking.

Or, even yelling and crashing down the stairs.

Jungkook lunged back as a ball of people tumbled down the stairs. An actual ball. Jin slipped to the bottom. clutching the railing for dear life. Screaming with hand out, as three others launched down.

Jin yelled, “My face uh!”

The three were thrown off the staircase.

One rolled across the room. He thrashed and blindly hit around, shoulder a bit numb. “Jimin!”

“I'm sorry!” But was he really, with the way he smiled? Either he fell on purpose, or he was used to this, and that's why he laid like a slug on the floor accepting defeat.

The taller of the three groaned after the faceplant. He pulled his face from the floor. Voice gravelly, for what seemed like the millionth time, “It wasn't his fault.”

Jungkook stumbled to charge his feet, then ran over to help.

Who first?

Jin?

Okay, Jin.

Which was he? Papa? Daddy?

Jungkook hovered over Jin, and grabbed his wrists. “Daddy.”

Jin sat up like a spring, heart racing. 

Jungkook talked. Oh shit, he talked.

Jin's eyes went big. Jungkook's even bigger.

And they just stared for a minute. Good, hard stare.

Jungkook realized, he was safe. And maybe Jin was expecting something.

“Daddy,” it was hard to pull Daddy up when Jungkook wasn't scared or angry, though he exerted and got Jin to stand, “are you okay?”

Before Jin had a chance to respond, Jungkook threw his arms around him.

Jungkook eyed the others. Not a threat – he hoped. They were all still dazed from the fall.

Except one, the tall one – sprinting, almost skipping over, to hug Jungkook.

Jungkook paused for a second, but with a pat from Jin, he turned toward big brother and reached his arms out, ready.

Big brother's teeth were white and big, the grin somehow bigger. He gave an eclipsing squeeze, and when he was satisfied, he pulled back. Hand on his chest, grin now showing dimples. “I'm Hobi.”

Hobi glanced at Jin, next Namjoon, back at Jungkook. “Okay, there's more to it.” He turned his head up, and rolled his eyes to think of a way to put it, yet came out with nothing. His head flicked back to Jungkook, still full of smiles.

Another brother, Jimin, snuck over with naughty hands at his chest and a leer. He was going to get himself some attention, too.

Namjoon scruffed Tae's back. “You should go meet your new brother.”

Jimin grabbed Jungkook's face. Tae gasped when Jimin was allowed to do that, with the cuts and everything.

“You’re so tiny,” Jimin whispered, pinching Jungkook’s cheek with both hands and wagging his head like he’d found a baby duck on the street. “You’re gonna hate me by tomorrow. But I’m Jimin, and I’m the best. Ask literally anyone.”

“Second best,” Hobi corrected with mock offense.

Jungkook didn't care. He took Jimin in both arms, and lifted. High up. Jimin clutched Jungkook's shirt and started kicking and scrambling.

Yoongi finally mustered the energy to pull his head up and see what was going on over there.

Oh shit, Jungkook was doing that. They all were, even Tae was slowly walking away from Namjoon, considering going over and enabling Jungkook's shit.

Oh fuck, Yoongi had to get up before Jungkook decided he had to come hug him too.

Yoongi struggled to get up onto his elbow with a groan. Oh no – Jungkook barreled over and fell on him, full elbow like a wrestler.

Chapter Text

Jungkook had a good first day, but after sunset, there'd been no way for him to have another day like that. It wasn't possible. He'd known from the minute Namjoon sent him to bed, that having dinner in front of TV then watching Jin play piano while everyone watched the stars on the patio wasn't a real thing.

Just like laying in bed for the past three days wasn't exactly reality. So much free time. Privilege. Pushing his head into a pillow to block out the sounds of everyone banging around getting ready for school. Then dozing off, waking up when Jin brings him little bowls of stuff, and bags of crackers, or a few of the dumplings he was making. Eventually, rolling over in bed to laugh at these petty fights that weren't actually real, usually Jimin being in Yoongi's room. Namjoon breaking something after Jin telling him to not help with cooking. 

Fights that… just… worked. Maybe. Everyone was always laughing about something not even an hour later. When glass was broken or furniture slammed, it was always before the yells. And Jungkook knew for certain that, if not Namjoon, it was one of his brothers, probably Jimin, crashing into something.

Like the living room table, last night.

The first three days in his new bed went just as slowly as day one.

Not necessarily a bad thing. This was the best bed Jungkook ever had. Sure, the wooden frame had old written all over it, scratches and splotches of paint, and a footboard that shook when he moved too hard, but… he also didn't exactly know what a bed was supposed to be like. 

The mattress dipped as he sat up, because this used to be Jimin's bed before a plank had gotten broken (whether it was from Jimin jumping on it or Namjoon moving it around, no one would admit). Jungkook was so used to cots sagging on metal frames or carpet that lumped so much under his back that he barely felt it.

He'd seen beds on TV, and he'd walked past beds when cleaning for families, yet he never realized just how big these things were. This attic room was only a little walk space between a bed, cast in pink from the window above, a hatch, a desk, and a dresser that fit between two beams. The rest of his clothes hung from the rafter, next to the tiny nightstand. Jungkook hugged his knees to hide, despite being completely alone here.

For now, maybe the next few days he was here, the TV was only decoration. Like a guest room welcome card but for teenagers. (Nevermind, he had welcome cards here too, on the corner of the desk.)

The first night here, then again the other day, Jin kept apologizing for the “boring” clothes. Mostly black shirts, too big for him like the one he had on now, or sweatshirts. A few old shirts, plastered in paint or sauce stains. 

What Jin wouldn't understand was that Jungkook never had anything as good as this, there was never “choosing a shirt”, or deciding sweats vs shorts. At best it was whether he wanted a black or blue institution uniform, or going through a box to grab the two-three outfits he'd rotate between.

Jungkook dug his face down into his lap, and got a big whiff. Jin's old shorts.

Clean.

More Jin. Jin's hands, from laundry.

A little bit of Hobi. (Or Hoseok, whatever Hobi wanted to be called.)

The desk next to his bed was a little Jin and Hobi. Mostly Namjoon. Actually, Taehyung, who'd helped Namjoon shop for notebooks and pens and inks and all these things in the boxes. Jungkook could imagine Tae following Namjoon through the store, hugging a pile of journals.

The stickers all over the desk were fresh, for him, and only a couple were peeling and spotted leftover from whoever had this first.

He couldn't look long enough to make out anything besides Kumamon, he was going to throw up if he did. None of this could've been real. This whole room didn't exist.

The lava lamp? It's a thing in movies, the cool kids have them. Same for guitar, a trope.

The knock on the hatch? Not real. Privacy happens only in the movies. Parents Knocking is a trope.

Below the hatch, things were more normal. Jin and Namjoon bickering about something – Jin whispering for some reason, probably because Namjoon was.

Wait. Jungkook automatically thought that was normal.

It was. An example of this normal, or really a small fragment of the new normal.

Jin whispered something.

Namjoon, “Just open it.” Open the hatch, make sure Jungkook's okay. He'd usually answer, open the hatch, by now, even if out of fear or submission.

Jin argued, “I'm not going to open it.”

More arguing, and the hatch dropped.

Jin's head popped up into Jungkook's room.

“Are you alive?”

Namjoon nudged his back. “Don't joke about that.” 

Jungkook had been getting along fine, eating and sleeping – but Yoongi had been the same way before his attempt at his bio family's house, according to evaluation.

And even as Yoongi and Jimin were arguing right now, the hatch was right between Yoongi's door and the stairs, Yoongi could hear this.

Jin poked Namjoon back. He looked around the room and found Jungkook on the bed, and even as Jungkook didn't look back, Jin still climbed the rest of the way up, and crouched into Jungkook’s room. “Hello.” His cheeks tightened, a mix of playful and disappointed. Not severely upset, but a bit disappointed. “Where have you been?”

Angry, when Jungkook's head came up to see what was going on. Jin was playful enough to not be scary, however Jungkook couldn't tell how badly he messed up.

“You're hiding from us.”

Jungkook only blinked. He automatically shifted towards his pillow when Jin skipped over to sit down.

Jin said, “Namjoon’s panicking.” And he lightly plopped down. “He thinks you don’t like us anymore.” 

Namjoon sputtered trying to correct Jin but his protests faded when the attic hatch slowly sprang shut.

It was only mumbles now, which Jungkook couldn't help but smile at.

Jin smacked Jungkook with the back of his hand to make him laugh. Jungkook flinched away.

Jin wrapped his arm around Jungkook and pulled him close. “Oh Koo, it's okay.”

Jungkook didn't know how to take being hit like that, even as Jin's voice went soft and explained. 

“I love you. I'm showing that I love you. You're so cute I can't handle it.”

Jungkook didn't know how to take that, either. Or how to be held like this, with Jin's fingers wiggling into his neck. The meeping the other day was funny, but this was something else. Jin wasn't being funny or silly, he was loving someone who didn't deserve it.

Now Jin grabbed his face.

Just like yesterday and the day before, Jin wanted to check his face. Probably the sole reason Jin came up here. Just to look at a bandaid. And to maybe put another one on. Jin dropped everything and came up here, for a tiny cut. 

Jin was in the middle of saying, “Let Jin see your face,” when he got close and noticed, “See, Koo! The bandaid is coming off and you're bleeding. You should've let me change it!”

Jungkook's hands came up to his face, trying to block Jin. He really loved Jin, and was really grateful, however, “Daddy, Jin, I don't need it.”

“Shut up!” Not loud enough to scare Jungkook but triggering his reflex to make him freeze and watch Jin pull a new bandaid and ointment out.

Jin punished Jungkook for trying to push him away by giving no warning, just ripping the old bandaid off. He was petty like that – pursed mouth and furrowed brows. “See, your cut opened up again.”

Jungkook surrendered, this was the part where he apologizes profusely. “I'm sorry.”

“Sssh.”

About the cut reopening, Jin chimed, “Probably because you're laying on that pillow all day and ignoring us. Missing dinner. Games. Computer time and TV. Music. Breaking my heart.”

Jin saw it wasn't bad enough to clean, only to add ointment. But, “You're getting a bath or shower tomorrow morning.” The Institution giving him away in horrible condition was already bad enough, four days like this is disgusting. 

Jin took Jungkook's chin so he couldn't move away, and Jungkook's cheeks puffed out over Jin's fingers and thumb. 

Jin pushed past Jungkook's hands to get the new bandaid on. Today it was yellow, covered in bubbles and fish. Maybe if Jungkook was good tomorrow, Jin would let him pick his bandaid.

Jungkook's leg came up in protest. His foot flopped in the air, and managed to graze Jin's hair.

"Relax, I'm done.”

Jungkook's leg still waved around – weak, lazy from being in this bed all day.

He groaned, “Waahhh…”

Jin's hand closed tight on Jungkook's jaw, and Jungkook's cheeks swelled up like a fish. Jungkook's huff in protest only pushed air into his cheeks, and Jin squished.

Jin squeaked, “Blub blub blub blub.”

Jungkook's hands went to Jin's face and padded around, trying to push. He was doing everything to not smile. Because he was mad – exhausted and rebellious and buggered – and mad people don't laugh. He couldn't give Jin that satisfaction.

Jungkook's pushing made Jin smile and blub him harder.

Jungkook sniffled to get some air out, but the puffs only inflated his fish cheeks.

Jin leaned in closer, fingers gently squishing Jungkook’s cheeks side to side. “Blub blub bloooob!”

Jungkook shook his head furiously, but the motion only jiggled his stuffed cheeks, which made it worse. Jungkook finally let out a broken giggle. 

Jin's eyes went big and his mouth shot open with a smile , “Ha, you smiled!”, so Jungkook quickly swallowed like he could suck it back down. His eyes narrowed, trying to reset the frown on his face, but his hands were slipping off Jin’s cheeks from the effort of holding it in.

“You smiled,” Jin beamed. 

Jungkook deflated with a wet-sounding puff.

“You totally smiled.”

Jungkook gave one last push to Jin's face. Jin finally let go. Jungkook rolled away and yes, it was funny, but in general, not to him. The only reason Jin got away with grabbing him like that without Jungkook breaking down was that it was Jin who did it.

His face ached, with this tiny dented feeling as if Jin was still holding him. Jungkook shook a little, because every time someone grabbed him like that, a beating was coming. Or, it was a warning that a beating was coming the next time Jungkook messed up – and as with anywhere else he's been, this place had so many opportunities for him to do it. To break something more important than a lamp on a living room table. To say something that was out of line, especially when the threshold was very low.

The worst thing he's heard in a whole three days would have to be… Yesterday, after the middles got home, Yoongi was already out early from high school, on the couch, and they woke him up and Jimin laughed, and… everyone fought, and Yoongi threatened, “Talk shit one more time!” and when he was corrected by Hoseok, he rolled over. “Don't make me say I hate all of you.”

Jungkook's arms tensed. His jaw shook, whether from clenching his teeth or the adrenaline rush.

He turned back, to look Jin on the forehead.

“I hate you.”

“You love me,” Jin corrected.

“No.” Telling Jin no – telling any adult, any person, no – for the first time sent this surge through him.

This safety. A presence in his body.

When Jin copied him, “Noh!” he only said it meaner. “No.”

Jin's windshield wiper laugh kicked on.

Jungkook was ready to grab something. “Not funny.”

Jin chuckled at Jungkook's cute face and humbled him, “It’s hilarious.”

Jungkook’s fists balled tighter. His lip quivered, but he locked his arms down at his sides like he was bracing for something – anything.

He’d said no. And the world hadn’t ended. Jin hadn’t left. No yelling. No slam of the door. No more grabbing. Just that stupid laugh.

His whole body didn’t know what to do with that.

“Not funny,” he repeated, fiercer this time, voice cracking halfway through. His eyes stayed sharp even as they welled.

So Jin nodded. “Okay,” he said gently. “It is not funny.”

Jungkook blinked.

“I still think it is,” Jin added under his breath, then he broke into more laughter.

Jungkook’s fists trembled. He didn’t know whether to throw something or cry. One sniffle and he broke, “Stop laughing at me!” 

And he heaved. Like he couldn’t make room for the right breath, or the right words, or the right way to exist here. In this house, with Jin, in this house with Jin.

Jin sobered immediately.

“Okay,” Jin said again, quieter this time. “I’m not laughing at you.”

“You are,” Jungkook said. His arms were tight across his chest now. Clutching his baggy shirt and even air, trying to find something here that was real and that he could understand. “Everyone does. You act like I’m a joke. I’m not.”

“I know you’re not.”

“You act like I’m some… thing to fix.”

“No,” Jin said, voice calm. “You’re someone I care about. That’s all, Koo. That’s it.”

Jungkook flinched at that, like it stung. 

It seared deep.

And he protected himself by shaking his head so he couldn't hear anything.

He shouldn't have hugged Jin the other day. He should've never called him Daddy, or talked to him.

“Jin…” he sniffled, then dropped it. “I hate you…” And not like before. He built up the anger until he got the surge

“You always want to hug me,” he mumbled. “You always touch my face.”

“I’ll stop,” Jin said. “I’m sorry.”

That was worse.

Jungkook glanced up, startled. “Why?”

“Because if it doesn’t feel good, then I shouldn’t.”

“No–” Jungkook’s voice cracked again. It did feel good, he just– “I didn’t say stop. I just… I don’t know how to feel it right. It’s like… you’re nice, and I’m not used to nice being… real.”

His throat closed up. There it was. The real reason. The worst, most humiliating truth, and it hung between them in the still attic air.

He went back into his knees, hugging his shins as close as possible. His bangs dropped over his eyes. He was done talking for right now.

Jin didn’t reach for Jungkook this time. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Jin said. “You can be mad. You can hate me. You can say no. And I’ll still be here. That’s what this is. That’s what we’re doing.”

“I don’t hate you,” he whispered.

“I know,” Jin said, smiling gently. “But it’s okay if you do sometimes.”

“No.” Weak, wispy. “No.”

Jungkook sat with that. He picked at a thread in the blanket, rubbing it between his fingers. The quiet of the air made it sound softer than he could take.

Yes, they were good people, but why this? Why him?

He's messed up the past few days by being up here, abandoning people who love him. Loving someone who never deserved it.

In a ball, he did his best to scoot closer to Jin. Bridge the gap in case Jin wanted or needed to touch him again. 

Jungkook should've never told him what to do. Or what he can and can't do. If Jin was his dad, Jin could do whatever he wanted. Adults in general are free to do whatever, and don't even need a reason. And it wasn't Jungkook's place or choice.

Jin said one last thing. “It's okay if you hate me, you can have me whenever you want. I mean that. It's normal for kids your age to hate their parents. And you, with what you've been through, even the stuff I don't know about. It's gonna happen.” And Jin's going to be there for all of it, and stay to see what happens next, every time.

Suddenly Jin's foot clanged something under the bed.

He took it as a cue to give Jungkook space, and he got off the bed and bent over.

He wanted to say he wasn't afraid to reach in and see, but he's had plenty of experience. Moldy dishes under Jimin's bed. Animals under Jimin or Taehyung's furniture that got shoved under when they heard Jin come to their rooms. 

His fingers brushed the floor, and his knuckles hit glass. He pulled out plates. And a bowl. Slathered in cake crumbs and frosting, barely. What Jungkook hadn't been able to fully scrape or lick off.

These weren't the plates and bowls Jin had brought him meals in, then used to get him cake as a reward for eating. Jin had come back up to get those back anyway, except the one by the desk.

These were China, and dinnerware. A Christmas mug.

One was Tae's tiger tray.

The thing Namjoon has a habit of grabbing, due to making plates for Tae often or getting Tae snacks when he's sick. The plate almost everybody has accidentally eaten off of at one point for that reason.

Jin squinted at Jungkook, just as a burp came out through Jungkook's knees and the room smelled like birthday icing.

Jin's mouth went big. Surprised, but not really. “You ate that whole cake?!”

Down at the hatch, “Nam—joooon!!”

Chapter Text

Jin announced, “Family meeting!” which was what he and Namjoon had ultimately come up to get Jungkook for, but now Jin had a stack of dishes for someone (Namjoon) to explain.

He got to the hatch, and thankfully heard Hoseok coming out from his room, with a few of Jimin's dishes.

“Hoseok!”

“Father!”

Hoseok accepted the dishes so Jin could climb down. Jin dragged Jungkook to the top of the ladder and got to the hallway. He took the dishes from Hoseok.

Hoseok repeated, “Family meeting?”

“Yeah, dining room.”

Hoseok's lips turned down, family meetings didn't happen so often, and only the horrible ones happened at the table – the most serious ones.

He had to ask Jungkook, and did so before Jungkook could even finish coming down the ladder, “Are you alright?”

Jungkook's eyes were big in stun. So many questions. Why was he asking that, did he think something was wrong? Was this meeting supposed to be about Jungkook, or something he did, or something he was doing wrong?

And it was like Hoseok shifted for a second. The color of his eyes dropped deeper, and voice was still soft, but a little more solemn. “Don't be frightened.” Then he reverted back, and said, “Let's have a family meeting. Sometimes they have good things to tell us.”

Honestly it wasn't helping Jungkook. Now he had absolutely no clue what to expect, and anything was about to happen.

Jin nudged him forward.

Yoongi's door was wide open. A room smaller than Jungkook's but with all this cool stuff on display including Kumamon stuff. A TV similar to the one Jungkook had. 

A Kumamon in Yoongi's arm.

Yoongi was slumped on the bed, blanket wrapped around his leg and barely covering his gummy bear underwear.

Jimin stood in the doorway, but also not. Toes just barely touching the threshold of the floor, eyes staring deep into Yoongi's soul, and one single bang of hair grazing the air of the room.

Yoongi groaned, “Get out of my room!”

“I'm not in your room.”

“Ugh!” Yoongi could barely keep his eyes open and especially couldn't get up to chase Jimin or shut the door. He gave an attempt at a swat but his arm just fell. Then he noticed Jungkook and the body behind Jungkook. “Jin,” please, his saving grace, “do something.”

But Jin only perked up, “You need to get up and get downstairs.”

Yoongi barely sighed and he mustered up the strength to look at the clock on the side table. 

Apparently Jimin had fucked with that too, it was turned facing the wall.

Yoongi's arm slaved over to the table and his hand brushed against his clock until it moved just enough for him to see 17:43. Really seeing any of those numbers was a curse, but in this order? It wasn't time for dinner. What could be so important that–

Hoseok just had to say it. “Family meeting!”

Yoongi's head went back and his eyes faded shut as if he was dying. “This shit again…”

As Jin went in to get him, Hoseok guided Jungkook down the hall. 

As Hoseok approached the stairs, Jungkook followed. Jimin ran past Jungkook and started trying to push past Hoseok, because if he got down the stairs first, he could get the swivel chair at the table.

Jungkook looked back at Jin. His mouth fell open when Jin was gone.

But Namjoon was at the end of the hall, standing at a closed door. “Yes, Taehyung.”

Something shuffled around behind the door. footsteps walked away from the door, then back to the door.

The door cracked open, but Namjoon didn't need to look in. He leaned his forehead against the door frame and said, “Yes, you can bring that.”

Taehyung almost sighed, it was more of a vibe than a sound. His footsteps walked away from the door, then a pause, then back to the door.

“Yes, Taehyung. You can bring that, too.”

Taehyung almost hummed. This? 

“Yes.”

Through the crack in the door came a little animal nose and whiskers. Some kind of dog or wolf plushie. Him?

“Of course.” Namjoon went from kind to nearly robotic. They used to go through this every day, they still do whenever there's an event big enough or a place that's too big or too new for little keychain plushies to suffice.

Another nose came through, probably a cat. When Namjoon didn't answer right away, the whole tiger face came out and wiggled. This? This?

Namjoon said, “Last one.” Not a question but an order.

Gasp.

Namjoon peeked in to watch Taehyung shove the tiger into his arm of animals and see which one he'd pick up next. 

His life-sized Baby Big Bird.

“Good choice. Is that the last one?” Then Namjoon cringed – what he meant to ask was if Big Bird would be the choice for the final plushie, however now he'd just given Taehyung a chance to run back to his plushies. Now whether Таеhyung would spare another one from the net, or the pile under the net, or his bed, or the table, he wasn't sure.

Hoseok yelled, “Jimin– Jungkook!!”

Jungkook turned forward.

Hoseok was almost at the bottom, now with eyes wide frozen as Jimin came crashing down. He took Hoseok out and just as they started rolling, Jungkook realized he'd missed a step, and he dropped into both of them.

Jin's yelling echoed through the house. “What was that?!”

Yoongi groaned as he walked to the stairs. Head turned at Jin, “Jimin fucking with something for sure.” His mouth was smug as he automatically took the first step down, then the second step, then the third. The grin was wiped off his face when he turned his head forward at the next step, to see the ball of people and before he could process, his foot already stepped down and next foot forward snagged Jungkook's baggy clothes.

The clerk at the pharmacy did one last sweep of each aisle before closing early. Yet two more things for the Lost and Found, a bracelet and a lighter. Not that it mattered, the people usually never call or come back, and those who do give him the old line of “Oh, it's alright.” and straight to the trash or donation bin the entire box went.

Man, this box was already full after only a month. And it was all stuff from Jin's sons – mostly things that the clerk didn't want to throw away just yet, like beads or puffy stickers -- and a few things from Namjoon or from Jin's purse that they decided to shrug off as well. A cup with a lid and a straw that had rolled out of their van into the parking lot a few days ago, which probably didn't belong to anyone at the moment anyway and was all cracked and dented up. 

And the clerk suddenly had so many questions for Jin, or both.

Not that it was his business, but it seemed like Jungkook had quite a bit of problems just like Taehyung. That Taehyung kid was on, how many?, three different medicines now and things didn't seem to be looking up so much. Not that it was the clerk's place to decide how things should be but having three siblings more than 10 years younger than him as well as many cousins and watching them all grow up in this economy with all of their own problems and only two parents was really, to put it gently, a sight.  

How many kids did the Kims have again?

The clerk only remembered a combination of kids coming in, scrambling around screaming at each other or throwing things and causing a scene, and poor Taehyung hiding or crying. And he'll never stop thinking about just last week when they all came in. Typically Taehyung hides behind Namjoon's jacket or tries to grab Jin's arms, but that one time, Taehyung was glued to Jin in clear distress, yanking his arm around, and Jin not only failed to correct the behavior but outright shooed him off in order to dig around his purse for some money.

That was the third visit in a row that the clerk took a record of over ten coupons. And Jin wasn't ashamed anymore, he'd gotten comfortable enough to pull them out in the open air then blame other people in the pharmacy for judging, because he was taking care of his kids.

All the coupons in the Lost and Found were dropped from Jin's purse, the day he'd brought Jungkook in. The second time he'd been over a day late picking up Taehyung's medicine.

The clerk wasn't stupid. No one was. Why were the Kims doing this to themselves, and to their kids? 

All these clear struggles, there was a limit. Money, decisions as parents, six now seven people in a two bedroom, one study house. And to have a kid from the worst part of D-town, or that kid who'd been abandoned at that amusement park who was rumored to be fucked in the head, denied from three schools? That other kid who came in sometimes was always a little too small, littered in bruises.

Again, it wasn't his place to question or decide anything, but… but what if it was?

Namjoon looked around the table to assess where everyone had chosen to sit before deciding how to approach the topic.

He mirrored Jin, who had legs crossed and hands clasped on them, but instead had his own hands clasped on the table. He cleared his throat to make sure he had everyone's attention.

“Okay so… Now that we've all fallen down the stairs, I think–”

"Ugh." Yoongi was already collapsed in his arms about to fall back asleep, and the ice pack Jin had given him for his head felt so good (and admittedly so did the Big Bird on the floor, pushing against his leg). “Get on with it.”

Hoseok wanted to correct Yoongi, but he had a point. “Yeah, what's going on? It has to be important if we're having a meeting over it.”

His dimples came out towards Jin for answers, but Jin had nothing. So clearly this was Namjoon's idea.

He looked back at Namjoon.

Jimin leaned into the table, reached his leg out, and gave Big Bird a little kick. Just enough to rustle it and make Taehyung panic a little. Did this thing really need to be here?

Taehyung's lips caved. Hey… He reached for the other plushies on his lap, then to his favorite one on the table. His best puppy, this almost life-sized fluffball so fluffy that Jimin and Yoongi could agree on one thing: they couldn't tell which side was its face and which side was its butt. Tae always ran his fingers over the cheeks, and up over the head, and let the ears wisp between his fingers, like a perfect cross between a yorkie and a shiba.

Maybe like a corgi, but fuzzier.

Hey, Yoongi had talked about wanting a corgi someday. And Tae got that, he'd always wanted a dog, literally any dog.

Yoon, he vibed. Yoon. Yoon. Hey.

He brought the puppy up. Puppy's nose tapped Yoongi's wrist.

Hey.

Usually Yoongi would grimace and turn away. But now he wasn't, he was completely still. So Tae brushed Puppy's soft cheek into Yoongi's arm, and did a mini cuddle.

Yoongi pushed the ice pack into his forehead. Namjoon could start talking any day now. Before Taehyung got this thing any closer.

Tae got Puppy's nose under Yoongi's arm, and then it's whole face, and whole head as the ears popped out against Yoongi's face.

Finally Namjoon revealed, "Since tomorrow will be Jungkook's first Friday, and the first night out with us as a group,” he didn't want to use the word family yet, mostly for Yoongi's sake and to be respectful of Jimin's situation, “I thought we should all decide as a group where we go–”

Jin, Jimin, even Hoseok groaned and broke into a fight. All this, a whole meeting, for this?? Something that could just be a little vote on a paper or a passing question??

Everyone stopped what they were doing, to squeeze in here and decide?

Namjoon already knew that after votes, it would come down to pizza.

Yoongi pulled the ice pack away and squinted at Namjoon. No fucking way. Yoongi did not just wake up for this, when either Jin or Tae would ultimately choose anyway.

Tae's toy dog grazed the hairs of Yoongi's cheek. 

The  arguing got louder and Yoongi said over it, “You know what?!” He plopped up from his chair and his hand came down and snatched Puppy from Tae's grubby mitts.

Taehyung froze, too shocked to move his hands out of Puppy mode. The tears didn't hide the sight of Puppy in Yoongi's hands. Those cold, hard hands.

Yoongi’s hand tightened around Puppy’s fuzzy torso and started looking at each wall. Which wall could he throw it at -- the closest one for harder impact, or farthest, to see it fly? Not enough to break anything or make Tae actually lose his shit, but just… shock him, get him to chill out? Or make everyone shut up for a minute.

Tae's aura begged, No…

Yoongi squeezed harder. The wall behind Tae's head, so he couldn't actually see, only have it disappear then hear it crash into something? Great.

Yoongi aimed. But then, he saw it.

Tae's hands were still curled in mid-air like he was holding Puppy, like the toy was still there, and maybe if he waited long enough, it would return. It was like… Taehyung wasn't fully in reality here, as if the toy kind of didn't exist in a way. He wasn't even worried about the toy but the fact it was gone, it was detached from him and… Maybe Yoongi wasn't going to give it back, or Yoongi would throw it and it would get eaten by gravity, a void would crack open and swallow it whole. 

And Taehyung was legitimately fucking scared. His lower lip trembled. Not the usual bratty pout, but a real tremble, something Yoongi had seen anytime he was at his bio family's house and stuck in the bathroom crying and made the mistake of checking on himself in the mirror.

Tae's eyes blinked too many times in a row. Yoongi took this too far.

For the new kid, too.

Quiet at the end of the table, knees drawn up to his face. (Face that was fucked up for some reason, and it had to have been bad.) Eyes darting between Yoongi and Tae like he'd just watched a bomb go off and was bracing for the next one. There's always a next one, Yoongi knew that.

The poor kid didn’t even look like he got what was happening. He was just frozen, shivering like he didn’t know whether to run or hide.

Yoongi's hands softened. Puppy instantly reinflated and went back to its form, and Tae softened too.

Both his parents stared in shock and disappointment. Jin trying his best to not explode, and Namjoon pacing his breath and now starting to chew on his cheek. “Yoongi, give it back.”

Yoongi didn’t say sorry. Not out loud. But he placed Puppy back in Tae's hands, and closed Tae's arms into a hug. He went back to his seat and lowered down with a sigh. Ice pack clutched again. 

Silence filled the room, thick and uncomfortable. But the parents were satisfied.

Namjoon cleared his throat gently. “Okay,” he said, softer now, “So. Pizza or not pizza?”

This time, nobody groaned. Jimin looked at Jungkook. Jungkook shrugged like he didn’t want to make anyone upset. Hoseok smiled and said, “Let him pick.”

Yoongi didn’t look up. But under the table, he slipped a foot over and nudged Jungkook’s chair.

Jungkook looked up with big eyes.

“Hey,” he murmured over Jimin and Jin as they started talking again. “Pick something. We’ll make it work.”

Jungkook looked at Jin, ready to speak, but had his cheeks puffed instead.

Yoongi whispered, “We all know you can talk. Spit it out.”

Chapter Text

Jungkook crept up the stairs alone, away from everyone, and Jin.

Yoongi's door was cracked. Humm…

He wasn't going to bother Yoongi, just check on him and maybe see what was so interesting about his room that he was always in there and Jimin always wanted to be there.

And Yoongi actually didn't mind when Jungkook poked his face in the door.

Well, Yoongi sighed but he sat up in bed and acted like he wasn't just about to wiggle his pants off and slump back over the pillow.

“Hyung…” Jungkook was too exhausted from everything that he said nothing else, at least with his mouth.

But Yoongi expected such. After being around Tae for so long, plus kids like Tae and Jungkook for a few months in the group homes, he could read Jungkook's eyes.

What are you doing?

“Laying here.” That came out rather coldly. He whispered instead. “Koo, come here!”

Jungkook's whole head came into the crack. Fuck, his eyes were so cute, Yoongi couldn't take it. Yoongi had to look away to keep composure, so he sat up and reached for his bookbag hanging from the footboard of the bed. He pulled his homework out and pretended to get busy, so even if Jungkook didn't take the order to come in, Yoongi's room was open, unprotected and tempting.

Jungkook crept his shoulder and arm in. What was this room? Kind of like the ones on TV, maybe not, maybe a little personal. Too clean to be personal, with all clothes either away or in the hamper, and the only trash being a chips bag, rolled up by the pillow ready to be tossed to the can.

Yoongi himself was so… Actually kind of warm as the weather picked up outside.

Jungkook was about to give this real quick apology for what happened out there, as if it was all his fault that Yoongi almost exploded, or maybe something else was going on and Jungkook could comfort him.

Then Yoongi reached back in his bookbag and out came another bag of chips. Two bags, three, different colors. This would get Jungkook in. “You want some food?”

Jungkook hurried in at the sight of what looked like shrimp crackers but in crisp form. His eyes sparkled as Yoongi started opening a bag, these sauce flavored ones he's always wanted to try, he used to see them on TV and at normal kid school. So good that one kid even got his hand stuck up a vending machine trying to snag a bag.

Wait. Jungkook stopped, hands to his chest. He shouldn't. He didn't know Yoongi, except everything, now the explosion at the meeting.

This could've been a transaction.

Yoongi sighed. But he couldn't scold, Jungkook was too cute and sweet, and Yoongi also couldn’t afford to scare him even more. He said nicely, but with a bit of pressure, “It's not a transaction.”

Jungkook's mouth fell open. No way Yoongi read his mind.

(Could have been some universal truth that everything isn't a transaction or bait or manipulation somehow, but that's not a thing for now, Jungkook was simply trying to get some crisp.)

“Get over here,” and when Jungkook did, he found a spot on the floor. Yoongi would've gotten him on the bed, though Yoongi wasn't about to fight it.

Yoongi dug around in the bag for the best chip. The biggest, thick on the outside and wispy crispy on the center, with a little burnt spot on the side. He shook the bag to reach it. “These are really good, Jungkook.”

Yoongi got the chip out and presented it to… thin air. Jungkook was gone.

“Jungkook.”

Jungkook was over in the corner, on one knee and kind of hunched.

“What the hell are you doing?"

No answer.

“Look at me.” The mute equivalent of “I can't hear you.”

A strum of Yoongi's guitar vibrated up the wall. Then a pluck.

Jungkook wouldn't move it, only check it out. One more strum, and he had his fill of daring behavior for now, and he went back to sliding his fingers up and down the strings.

“Jungkook, I-”

Yoongi put the chips down.

Huh.

Jungkook really liked this thing. His fingers were so natural on it – not like when Jimin came in and fucked with it. 

“Jungkook, we gave you a guitar. This one's mine, that's yours.”

Jungkook kept teasing the strings. Either he was deaf or he just didn't care. He was digging this.

Yoongi sighed. He didn't want to say this, because except the basketball, that guitar may have been the only thing he had left, but in all truth, he had nothing to lose. “Do you want mine?” He lowered his voice so the others wouldn't hear. “You can have mine.”

There was never time for Yoongi to play anyway, if he wasn't sleeping he was sleeping, or getting harassed.

Feet appeared under Yoongi's door. Jungkook glanced over, then sort of hid behind the guitar by turning it.

Yoongi called out, “Jin? You can come in – if Jimin's not out there.”

The door was slapped open. Jin, with towels in one arm and the other, a bundle of clothes, jutted his head in. “Jungkook! Get out of Yoon's room! Come here!”

Yoongi looked up at Jin. He scooted over on the bed, only partially but still making a little more space to show both Jin and Jungkook how big the emptiness was, and how okay it was for Jungkook to play guitar or do anything he wanted, like mess with his Kumamon stuff. “No, it's fine. We're having a moment.”

“No, Yoongi. He's hiding from a shower is what he's doing.”

Jungkook hid harder as a smile came on, and he kept jabbing the guitar as if he was part of the room, fluid with the ticking clock, the bugs outside the window, the curtains and blinds flaring from a slight breeze coming through the gaps.

Jin scolded, “JungkookIcanseeyou!”

“Nooo-o-o-ooo…” Jungkook's voice trailed off like a ghost.

A concept.

Jin squinted. He'd put up with enough of this kind of attitude with Jimin when he'd came here, and Jin still did now. He wasn't taking it from Jungkook too. “Concept my ass!” He showed off the clothes and towels that he'd slaved through the house then up and down that ladder to get for Jungkook. “Get over here.”

Jungkook had no choice. He let go of the guitar. But he couldn't let it fall to the floor and bang really loudly or break, so he took a second to adjust it and find a place for it.

And when he looked at Jin expecting him to be really mad at Jungkook for stalling, when he really truly wasn't stalling, Jin actually did understand and Jin stood, waiting.

“I'll wash your hair in the sink for you, Koo,” which was why he'd brought this small towel, “and you won't take so long in the shower.”

Yoongi watched Jungkook stand. Really, a few more minutes would've been fine. But what Jin says goes.

Plus, “Yeah, Jungkook. You really stink.”

Jungkook's face went stark and his arms went around him, hands hiding his armpits and armpits hiding his hands. His upper inner arms had little patches from being squished against those institution clothes and in general his sweaty body, whether when sleeping or simply hugging himself tight. With a sniffle, he really did stink… Maybe he'd stunk this whole time – no, he knew he had.

Jin snapped, “Yoongi, be nice!” Then as Jungkook came out of the room, stiff like a prisoner, Jin lightened up with a pat on his shoulder. “You really do stink.”

Jungkook squeaked. Yeah. He looked down to hide the frown, and whatever tears could come out. 

Even if this were a space where he could straight up say that this hurt him, and took him back to the times where guards or admission officers or his caseworker walked him to a room with a showerhead, how would he? How could he? Jin and Yoongi loved him and they didn't mean to hurt him.

This was a normal thing, maybe. Not just an institution thing, but a home thing. Make fun of the person who stinks. And it was his fault for being offended.

Jungkook followed Jin to the stairs. Jin suddenly jerked Jungkook away at the sight of Jimin coming up. “Dad! Papa needs you.”

“Of course he does.”  

Jimin waltzed past them, Jin prompted Jungkook to keep going. Jungkook didn't look back.

Yoongi yelled, “Get the fuck out of my room!”

Jimin chimed, “Ha, I'm not in your room.”

Downstairs, Taehyung tried to not mind Hoseok, sitting two seats away from him at the kitchen table.

Taehyung usually liked to draw Hoseok or Hobi something, but for right now he had to do something for only his parents and the others since Hoseok wouldn't tell Tae what he wanted. Just, “I'm good.” while staring ahead and moping. 

Tae grabbed his pencil pouches and dumped all the markers and paint pens and pencils out on the table, to let Hoseok see all the pretty greens and the flower stamps and glitter and change his mind. For now, Taehyung just focused on doing a portrait of Puppy, because Papa loves Puppy, and the air seeping through the window against the back of his hair and the sounds of Papa trying to cook.

Surprised that Dad let Papa cook or handle food or even be in the vicinity of the kitchen when it wasn't time to eat. The top of the island was still streaked over in black char marks from when Papa helped cut onions the other day. After what happened last time Papa tried to make them Rabokki, there was no way that Papa would have another chance to do anything.

Even Hoseok sat there, grimacing, just watching Namjoon. A slight horror, or suspense despite being numb.

Dad came down the stairs and placed some stuff down at the island, Jungkook followed. Taehyung tried to flag Jin down, pointing at his papers, to ask what picture he wanted. Taehyung grabbed Hoseok's arm and shook him, begging for help, but Hoseok was cold.

Taehyung had to let it go. Sometimes Hoseok is like this, his brain is numb and his eyes are a little sad. Not sad like upset, but like he's not part of the family or like he's not a person.

And he couldn't help it, he's so sick that he has to go to stay the night in institutions a lot and last month he spent a whole week there, he's seen multiple doctors who couldn't do much for him. Dad had to scream at one of them just to get a diagnosis. 

When Hoseok is normal again or Hobi comes back, Taehyung will make him the best painting he's ever given anyone.

Jungkook shrunk in his shirt, and walked past the table. He went to the sink like he was told.

Jin called over, from the other side of the kitchen. “Good, sweetie! I'll be right over.” At the moment he was dealing with an idiot.

Namjoon flipped through the big cupboard, then two little ones. He went to the counter and glanced at the hooks where a plant and some pots hung. “I still don't see it.”

“Right there!”

“No, I didn't see it there.”

Jin shot his hand out at Namjoon. The apron he was looking for was on his body, draped off his neck and tied around his back. “It's right there!”

Then a little, deep giggle.

Like a little hum that rolled.

Jin and Namjoon stopped. That laugh was not either of them, it wasn't Hoseok and they were pretty sure it wasn't Jungkook. Jin's spidey senses said it came from a certain someone.

As Taehyung now had eyes on him, he couldn't look at his parents for one minute. His mouth panicked around his teeth. He turned back to his picture as if nothing happened.

Jin blinked.

The first time they ever heard Tae's voice. And not a cry or moan or little snicker, but a full chest.

They wanted to say they'd been prepared for this, a scene where they grab Tae and swing him and tell him they love him and he can do and say anything. However, now that Tae's proven he can talk or hum at least, and hearing it be so strong and beautiful, it was nothing they could've imagined. And Tae really wasn't taking it well, he didn't want any of this. He was only enjoying himself laughing. He didn't do it voluntarily, it may as well not have been his first time, and it meant absolutely nothing.

Even though their hearts couldn't stop racing, they had no choice. They gave each other a look, and continued on.

Jin scolded Namjoon, “You idiot.”

Namjoon forced a few stammers to defend himself like normal, as Jin was free to ignore him. Jin went to get Jungkook a chair, and gave Jungkook time to sit on his own accord while Jin grabbed a small towel and a yellow bottle. He prompted Jungkook's head back and rolled up his sleeves. The last thing Jungkook saw was Jin placing down the bottle with a banana on it then pulling the hose down.

Jungkook scrunched his eyes, for whatever was about to come. A stream or a jet, a blast of scolding hot water or a few really hard spritzes – a lot of times, the admission officer had to spritz and do little sprays in Jungkook's ear or up his nose just to keep him in line and a lot times it came with dribbles of water that tasted like metal or had flakes from the pipes that got caught in his teeth and under his tongue. Getting used to it never made it more tolerable but did make them do it less, because it wasn't as fun anymore.

Not that Jin would do such a thing to him. But maybe he would. By accident. This water went from cold to hot really fast and even though it was aimed down towards the sink while Jin tried to adjust the temperature, something still splashed around. 

The water waded around under his head as if the sink was filling up, for a long time, before the drain suddenly gulped and five cm of water disappeared.

And it happened again and again. Jin's fingers stroked through Jungkook's hair, and sprayed, and water collected again. Jin pushed Jungkook's bangs away and pushed water around to break up some grease, and sprayed, and more water collected. 

Jin took a break. Jimin probably forgot to put the food catcher in the drain when he'd done his own hair yesterday, or Namjoon already clogged it before he'd even started cooking. Jin put the hose up, and his hand came down under Jungkook's head to ease him up away from the full sink. The water was grey from so much filth, the greyness of that institution wore off on poor Jungkook.

Jungkook tried to stay as still as possible. People usually weren't gentle about it, Jungkook had been snatched by his neck before, but he knew what Jin was doing. Maybe. Jin was waiting for the water, and he was patient, he knew how long this was going to take.

it was, maybe, normal.

That one time a set of foster parents had brought him in and upon shutting the door immediately insisted on getting all the lice and filth off of him, and shoved his head into the sink only for it to fill to his ears, made him start to think that homes are simply like this. It was normal to go down into a sink, or get shoved into a bathtub like during his monthly bath at another home, and have it all fill up. And there was nothing the parents could do about it. It was Jungkook's fault for getting triggered and all that. If the water got into his nose, he shouldn't have been breathing, and if the water scared him, he shouldn't have been scared. Simple as that. 

Sometimes the water is a little too metallic. Sometimes water doesn't get hot, it just stays cold, and it doesn't care if the winter is brutal and the pipes go solid, Jungkook always had to suck it up.

Here, when Jin brought the hose back, a few drops came out cold on Jungkook's face. Jin brushed them away, and put the hose down until the water heated back up, because he was nice.

Jin heated the water and messed with the tap to make sure it was at a good temperature… because he was nice. 

Jin rinsed until the water came clear. He gave a check, then sighed when Jungkook's scalp was clean, just a bit dry. Their parenting pamphlets and Namjoon's books always stressed lice, all the bugs and flakes. Jin hadn't dealt with it and he wasn't about to.

He joked, “We don't have to shave you.”

Namjoon said, “We're not shaving him anyway.” That hair was so thick and soft for being dirty.

Jin would never actually be able to clip it, he'd stall and then eventually decide on giving Jungkook “a little trim”, and who knows what Jungkook would look like after being subjected to that.

On day four of Hoseok being here, he had been sat down for Jin to “get the bangs out of his eyes” – and when Hoseok looked in the mirror, he cried for an hour.

Jin told Namjoon, “If I see one fire from you cutting those peppers, I'm shaving everyone in this house!”

Jin started shaking the shampoo bottle. It took some force to get the rest of it down. He joked, “Oh Koo, I'm gonna use the rest of it on you then I'll be without.”

Jungkook opened his eyes, to make sure Jin was really joking.

But Jin was right. The shampoo bottle had just enough for Jin to wash him, then probably follow the directions and “repeat”. Then… nothing for himself.

Jungkook did the autonomy thing, and put his hand up to stop Jin. He pushed Jin at the neck, not hard, just a solid “no”.

Wait, that was banana shampoo. Seriously, banana. It had banana on it, and it filled the kitchen with a pudding smell when Jin pushed around Jungkook's hand to pour himself a whole palmful.

Jungkook got a whiff of something else. Ooh, was that soup? Hot pot maybe. Onion, garlic. Chicken in the oven.

Ooh, chicken.

Oh, and out the window above the sink – more birds. Stuff creaking in the wind.

“Koo,” Jin stumbled around to fight Jungkook's hand, “please.”

Namjoon's voice interjected, with the patience of a teacher, “Jungkook, cooperate.”

Then Namjoon realized that Jungkook might not have known what that means.

“Let go of Jin, please. Let him do what he needs to do.”

Jin dropped the bottle. While juggling a handful of shampoo, his other hand lightly snatched Jungkook's wrist. He didn't pull Jungkook or force him or fight, he gave a squeeze. Mostly to draw attention to Jungkook's hand being where it shouldn't.

Jungkook went blank. He never had anything like that before.

His big eyes stared at Jin's. And everything suddenly came into place.

Jin loosened. Jungkook moved his hand down to his belly, and let his hands lock together.

Oww. Jin really hurt him a little.

“Thank you, Koo.”

Jungkook swallowed. “Daddy……”

Jin rubbed his hands to start a lather, and nudged Jungkook's face down with his elbow. “Hm?”

“That… really hurt.”

“What hurt?”

Being squeezed. “All of it.”

“I barely squeezed you.” And elbow, “I barely touched you with my arm.”

“Ahh,” Jungkook cranked out as Jin's fingertip came into contact with a few strands of hair, “ow!”

Jin's voice went soft, to the benefit of the doubt despite Jungkook's nostrils flaring as if he was holding back a laugh, and to avoid creating a scene. “I barely touched you, baby.”

“Owww…” Jungkook writhed under Jin.

“Baby…”

“OwwwWWWWW!”

Jungkook broke a smile as big as a bunny's. When shampoo rolled down his forehead, his hands came up to smear it away from his eyes, and with the way he writhed, it looked like he was crying when Taehyung looked over from the table.

Taehyung's mouth fell open at the sight of Jungkook nearly curling, and doing his best to tell Dad that it hurt.

And Dad did a final lather through Jungkook's hair, only what he needed to do, then he completely stopped. Hands off Jungkook's head, he stepped away and let Jungkook lay there on his own. No pulling or squeezing.

Tae didn't get the humor, that Jin was letting Jungkook brew in steam and the smell of banana, dripping wet like a dog with greasy gooey water trickling into his shirt and foam seeping into his eyes – just to be petty.

It was simple: Jungkook communicated, Dad stepped away. Dad listened to a single word. And Dad also stepped away without leaving, he didn't give up, or get mad and throw his hands up and bail on Jungkook.

When Jungkook still started a little fit, just to rub it in, and Jin mockingly asked, “What do you want?”, Tae didn't see the grin on Jungkook's face, only the legs waving around. Taehyung saw something he'd never seen before. Jungkook communicating, having feelings, and Jin trying.

Taehyung blinked.

He looked down at his glitter pen. He swallowed.

Then his chair scraped quietly against the floor.

Namjoon glanced over. “Yes, Tae?” He quickly dumped the rest of the onions into the soup, then a whole garlic, and was ready to wash his hands in case he needed to be physically available. “You okay, Tae?”

When Taehyung looked a bit flustered but still okay, Namjoon leaned forward to get a good look at Hoseok.

Yeah, Hoseok was dissociating pretty badly.

Not the worst he ever has, and nowhere near a breakdown, but still a reason to go and check on him.

And while Namjoon was there by Hoseok's side, and pretty much got rejected with replies like "I'm good." and this high-pitched but also high-strung "Can you just leave me alone.", it was a good time to check in with Tae.

Namjoon lowered to Taehyung, part of the way, with his hands between his knees to show a bit of patience and restraint.

Taehyung's mouth was open, and his lips were heavy like something from his mind was about to come out, or really wanted to.

But Taehyung is Taehyung, and he had a lot going on with no words or too many words to get away with.

Namjoon was ready for it. "You wanna talk to me?"

Tae's lips went from a heart to a grimace to a heart again and his eyes sparkled.

"Do you have something to say?"

Yes... No. Yes?

"Are you capable?"

Uh...

Of course he was. "You laughed earlier. Do you like to laugh?”

Taehyung gave a little nod. Barely more than a breath.

He looked down at his hands, at the way his fingers shook just slightly. He was in this confrontation really deep.

The glitter on the back of his hand had smudged into his sleeve. He rubbed at it, smeared it worse. 

Namjoon said, “You know, I like it when you laugh too.”

Taehyung's breath hitched.

“Sometimes I imagine your voice and I wonder what it would sound like. But what I heard when you laughed was more beautiful than I could ever imagine.”

Yoongi slumped into the kitchen, past the table. Glasses on, in case he had to jack the van and escape Jimin. Or if he needed a better look at the soup Namjoon was making, just to be sure it wasn't a hazard.

On the way to check that soup, which burned his nose and soul from all the way upstairs, he rolled his eyes at Namjoon and Taehyung having another moment. “Yeah yeah yeah.” Feelings, blah blah blah. Crying, bitching, moping.

Hoseok, too.

Yoongi got a safe distance from the stove, grabbed the spoon, and reached for the lid. How Namjoon fucked up this time, they'll see.

And it was up to Yoongi. Jin was busy, Namjoon wasn't qualified to do any of this cooking so it was good that he was distracted, maybe there was still time to fix whatever was going on in this pot that made the kitchen smell like a dumpster.

Yoongi generally had enough experience from taking care of his bio brother, and having to avoid being the scapegoat at the group home, before what he's learned here so far from Jin.

He pulled the lid up.

Oh. 

God.

Yoongi's bedroom floor was the worst place for Jimin to be. The fumes went straight through the nooks and crannies, and the heat of this didn't rise, it only stuck to every cell in the room.

“Oh God,” he pushed his sleeve into his nose but he only smiled and kept flipping through Yoongi's journal. He wasn't going to eat anyway.

Most of Yoon's journal was about him. A list of insults about Jimin, complaints out the wazoo, a section of each page as well as a few separate pages in the middle explicitly reserved for Jimin. Just like the last journal.

Jimin laughed. “You're such a nerd.”

Just like the inside of the cover, a few pages were marked with purple and silver pen to make music scores.

And these little poop things. Brown ball or circle or clump with a face, all over the margins. Maybe it was poop, maybe it wasn't. But Jimin called it poop. Yoongi's little poop friend.

Holy crap. When Jimin turned the page, he smiled as he unfolded an entire comic made about happy angry poop friend. It had a name, Shooky.

Jimin turned, and turned, and turned. It was funny to see it go from complaints to musical scores to poo to…

Aww, it turned out Yoongi loved Jimin after all.

He said it right there, under this paragraph with blue ink. 

And again at the bottom of the page.

The next page had nothing to do with Jimin. He skimmed it twice and still didn't spot his name or anything about him. He was about to skip to the next page or maybe the next few pages but then he saw Jay come up at the end, so he went through the paragraph, and he turned the page and kept going when he saw more about Jay and Jack and Smile Hoya and Hobi and everything.

Ah. No. Hold on.

This went too deep. Like, not even entertaining anymore, just deep. Yoongi must have confused this journal for his therapy journal one day and started writing and never dropped it.

Yoongi had had the therapy journal for a couple weeks now and given how far into this one he came to write, that therapy journal had to have been pretty full. Plenty of things for Jimin to go see.

Not because it was entertaining. Not because it was his business. Well okay, the parts with Jimin in it or the parts about Jimin were pretty much his business because well, it was about Jimin and he was Jimin.

Plus Jimin hadn't met Smile Hoya yet, and he'd seen only glimpses of what was supposedly Jack AKA Jack Rabbit just enough to know it wasn't a joke. If Jimin knew more, he could help.

Jimin reached under the bed where he had found the journal this time. Surely the therapy book was here.

Fortunately after a while, Yoongi had a section for each member of the family. Well, except Jimin. Yoongi did that part in person.

-

Day 18

It wasn’t him today. I don’t care what he says—he walks differently when it’s not him. He stands up straighter. He laughs louder.

He didn't want spaghetti

Hobi loves spaghetti. He eats like he’s trying to finish before someone takes the plate away

Hoseok is the same way sometimes. Or you make it and he's still grateful. Today, both came out and then when it was time for his birthday dinner he wanted to puke AND forgot it was his birthday

I didn’t say anything.

What the hell am I supposed to say?

-

Day 21

I met Jay.

I didn’t mean to.

He said it like that: “I’m Jay.” Just like it was normal. Like we were introducing ourselves at a fucking barbecue or hot pot. We're been living together for what weeks?

He said Hoseok doesn’t need to know I met him.

What am I supposed to do with that?

 

But here's the thing

He came back. He laughed with Jimin today. The real one. It was him.

It was so obviously him.

I don’t know why it made me want to cry

Maybe because I know he’s not always there, and it kills me how much I miss him when he's gone.

And he doesn't even know he's gone

 

Undated:

 

Hoseok just loves everyone. He cleaned my room and threw away half my shit in the process but whatever. Love. I'll get over it

He's happy

-

24

He flinched when I touched his shoulder.

Then he smiled and called me “hyung” in that sugar-syrup way I hate. Ifucking hate it but I guess it's ok because it's Hobi

I asked him to sit down.

He said he was tired.

He never sat.

I think he was scared I’d ask something he didn’t know how to answer

 

Later don't know when

He said, “Sometimes I don’t remember what I did, but I always feel like I should be sorry.”

Paraphrasing

I was like “Why do you think that?”

He looked at me and said “Because people cry.”

Then he smiled.

He smiled after that..

 

Add

Jimin's starting to notice too.

I don’t know what to tell him.

I want to protect Hoseok, but how do you protect someone from something that lives inside their own head?

-

Day 30

He looked at me like I was the one acting strange.

He said, “Yoongi-hyung, are you okay?”

Like I’m the broken one.

Maybe I am.

Maybe I should’ve asked more questions the first time I found blood in the bathroom and he said it was from a nosebleed.

Except it was in the tub. I'm sorry

 

and something else undated,

 

Hobi's really getting on my nerves but at least it's him I guess

I actually think it's more him than he realizes or maybe than I realize. Hoseok is the most rational out of everybody but I think it's a lot of filtered feelings or some shit and they get let out when Hobi is out.

Add

I realize he has a lot of issues. I'll expand on it later I think

Add 9 am

But anyway Hobi is completely safe. He's abandonment proof. He's abuse proof. hell he's probably fire proof too

But I shouldn't say that. Talking about fire isn't really a good thing. Unless it's in context of course because a certain person in our house likes to cook and then get surprised when it bursts in flames

Wish I could be happy like that

 

Add 0013

I know it's midnight but it might count as today because all this shit happened a few minutes ago.

So

I guess Jay got bored with life or maybe some Jack hybrid took over. I don't know but I won't joke about it because you know I was going though the same thing and Jin helped me so Hoseok is going to be ok

 

Add :

He's in the Iooney bin. He didn't hurt anyone or himself but Jin got freaked out. He'll be home in like 23 hours if he's doing ok

I actually did what my grandma would have done and I prayed. I guess. Taehyung had no clue what was going on and I'm the only person who does even the school doesn't know what's going on right now but taehyung prayed with me. I heard him talk for the first time tonight praying and it

-

31

• He's home. I cried like you told me to
• He loves me. He's happy again
•  

Ok.

I know what happened.

I know what I did wrong

 

Chapter Text

The Kims' home phone rang. It went a solid five times, echoing so hard through the empty house that each ping made the stairs creak.

Jungkook's caseworker hung up before the voicemail and tried again two more times. In the past month she'd known them, typically one of the children would answer, and then drop the phone and run off calling for whichever parent was available, or Seokjin would answer and excuse himself, yell at the kids, then return all smiles.

But now, nothing.

It was weird for them to be out with a new kid. Their files had noted that the children in their care are at home with the head, and stay at home parent, Seokjin until passing a mental check, and the first time the child leaves the residence after going home is for their first day of school, when they know there are no external risks and the child is considered stable. That's the reason she had tracked them down and advocated for them to take Jungkook, when the judge wasn't sure.

The caseworker wanted to say the family was simply outside or at worst, had left in an emergency not involving the kids. She may have had to reach one of the Kims by mobile, if they didn't answer in the next hour. Knowing how the system is, a letter in the mail or even an email might not reach them in time and not responding right away could make her instantly, at least temporarily, have to come remove Jungkook from the home, as well as the caseworkers with the other children. 

The lines at a few parts of the buffet were extremely long. Some people piled down the hall of the restrooms, almost regretting having gotten up. The server couldn't come over any slower with the batches of chicken and chips.

The line near the soups, Jungkook couldn't tell whether it was one single line for some soup or the line for that and the juice bar mixed together with how narrow the spaces were.

Jungkook was even smaller than ever, so little he couldn't use Namjoon's old black hoodie to make himself any smaller. The lights here were so high up they were like stars, except the chain lights glimmering down on the food, still high above Hobi the taller one as he walked past soup.

So. Much. Food. 

Pizzas, five different ones in the center, and on one side there were different breads and tops while the other had more pizza. His eyes got big. The first time he'd actually seen a bulgogi pizza – when it wasn't the piece no one wanted, with all the cheese ripped up and parts of the crust broken from a bad cut, slapped on a plate and put by his door as a treat. The first time he ever saw three meats on one pizza – before, he had only smelled it though the walls and convinced himself it couldn't be real, his foster family was just eating different kinds and the smells blended together.

Was that shrimp? Shrimp doesn't go on pizza. Nor peppers or garlic. Chicken? Or, maybe they do.

Jungkook held his plate against his growling belly, wanting for the lady coming out of the kitchen a brand new pizza to place it down and give him permission to take some.

He looked back at the family table, a large booth with a small table put up to it to hold extra stuff. The server lady had just left, to get drinks. Jin, in the center, had his purse in his lap and was digging for something, and Namjoon was talking to Tae who was hidden between them playing with Puppy and the plate he and Papa would share, but the parents were watching. They smiled up at Jungkook, You're doing great, sweetie!

Yoongi disappeared, thinking Jungkook was following him.

Jimin was shrunken in the chicken line, trying to figure out what he was going to do with this massive plate. Surely if he was stuck there it would be rational if he got out with only half a plate of whatever was left, and barely any time to eat before the restaurant closed for cleaning and kicked out.

Hobi called out, “Jungkook!” He dug straight into pasta. Some carbonara, next to his black rice, some spaghetti for his kimchi sandwich. And there was mushroom soup over by the bars so he got noodles for that.

A small but deep voice came through, “It's a lot of carbs…” 

He chimed over it. “I don't care…” And he piled as many meatballs as he could get away with, while leaving plenty for whoever might come up and smell just how dang good this spaghetti, and all of it, was this time. Always great, especially when they chop up burgers to use instead of meatballs, but today was pretty dang solid! 

Yoongi finished at the fruit bar, and rolled his eyes at Hobi. He went to get Jungkook, and he made it look sly so that Jimin might see him and come follow, and in doing so find something to eat.

Yoongi already had half a plate – with fruit and salads, and jelly cups – from the bar alone. Jungkook had obviously refused that. “Jungkook, there has to be something here you want.”

Jungkook's lips tucked between his teeth, as the sight of Yoongi's plate. Melon and peach salad and creme bananas, and all that grilled asparagus. He never had green melon before and he couldn't recognize anything in that peach salad, and he never had anything with banana before, it was always just plain banana, and even that was rare because everyone at the institution would get though the line first and take the bananas or the institution didn't care and served all the brown ones.

Those grilled skewers and all that pineapple and corn and radish and citrus was… it wasn't real.

The second Jungkook's eyes went up to Yoongi's, Yoongi couldn't help it. “Okay.” He wouldn't make Jungkook tolerate everything to check out the fruit bar, Yoongi just handed Jungkook his own plate.

Yoongi then reached for Jungkook's plate, to make a trade. Yoongi could usher Jungkook to get pizza or something to finish this plate, then let Jungkook go back and eat, then Yoongi could restart his own plate.

But when he grabbed Jungkook's plate, Jungkook's hand gripped it tight and held it against him.

Jungkook's face glowed. No.

“Jungkook.” Yoongi pulled, though Jungkook only held it closer.

Even when Yoongi yanked hard enough to gain traction, it only made Jungkook's feet stumble, he still had the plate. And Yoongi had to stop.

Yoongi squinted at Jungkook. When Jungkook's lips tightened between his teeth and his head trembled, shoulders stiff, trying to hold in a laugh, Yoongi was sure this wasn't a case of food insecurity or anxiety, just Jungkook being a little brat.

“I need a plate.”

 Jungkook soaked up the attention, and it went straight to his smile. He gave Yoongi a chance to try again, to wrap his fingers around the plate, then he slipped it away.

“You little shit.”

The empty plate disappeared into the hoodie. Jungkook's teeth came out like a bunny. And Yoongi gave up.

Fine. Yoongi would go all the way to the front of the restaurant to get a plate, and Jungkook himself could explain to the parents how he had two plates, and if Jungkook got lost trying to navigate the restaurant and died or something, that would be his problem.

Wait, no. There were too many people, even as the line at the chicken started to resolve itself. Yoongi couldn't just abandon him and go more than a few feet away. Fuck.

Fine.

“Jungkook, I have to go get myself a plate and you have to come with me.” Yoongi grabbed Jungkook's sleeve to stun him, then wrestled his hand free and laced his fingers between Jungkook's.

Jimin materialized at the wall. Plate nowhere to be seen, because how was he supposed to eat with no plate?

Yoongi snatched Jimin by the clothes, and dragged him along.

“Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow.” A laugh and then a real “Ow how!”

Namjoon looked over the booth. The traffic past their table was slowing down and only three people had come through the doors, so it was a good time to take Taehyung up.

Tae was playing with Puppy, eyes on the juice bar all the way at the end of the buffet. 

Namjoon had already proposed, “Do you want to go up by yourself today?” Tae always went for a shake or something with melon, and today they had plenty of melon at the fruit bar so the juice bar likely did as well. No need to fumble, deciding what he wanted in his shake, just “Melon smoothie, please.”

And Taehyung could do that. He knew the lady well, so he could get away with saying “Melon” and she'd have a whole tumbler ready for him.

Tae looked down at Puppy, hiding under his mop of hair for a minute.

He however had noticed Yoongi and Jimin and Jungkook going somewhere as a group and when it turned into a fight between Yoongi and Jimin, Jungkook slowly went off by himself. Jungkook followed the smell of chicken and was taking wings and stuff from the canister, reaching his fingers in and plucking it out. And smiling as he went down past the line. Past all those people.

Taehyung could maybe do that.

If Jungkook did it, he could too.

Okay, he'd try.

“I go.”

Namjoon barely heard it, he leaned in to hear until it clicked and he smiled. “You wanna go?”

Tae nodded. Yeah, and he tried to reiterate with his breath, “Yeah.”

“You're going to have to be a bit louder, honey.”

Tae's lips caved, but he was still going to try. Talking to Papa now and talking in front of Dad last night felt so good, he had no way to describe. 

Addicting too. This might have been why Jimin talked so much.

Namjoon gestured over to the juice bar and Tae's head came back up. “Now honey, when you go up there,” Tae already knew how this would go, “Miss Jisoo is going to greet you, ask you how you're doing, because she's very sweet.” And Namjoon should have kept this to himself, but it made Tae just a bit easier, “She's only a little older than Hoseok, an she's been though a lot of similar things so I'm sure she's very understanding."

Taehyung's lips warped and the anxiety flooded in at the sight of the kitchen door coming open, and the girl in the apron marching out with a canister of berries. Today, her hair was in a long high ponytail instead of the usual bun, and she had a bigger smile than usual as she noticed him and made eye contact.

Maybe Tae couldn't and shouldn't do this.

Even going up there with both Dad and Papa some days was already hard enough, now this time there was a second girl at the counter, eyes big but still partly hidden by her bangs. Maybe it was her hair, a bit puffy, but she was bigger than him. Not that size meant anything, but it did. And she laughed at the juice bar girl with this kind of naughty smile, maybe she was mean or like, really hard on everyone. She poured herself something, and got a smack on the shoulder from Jisoo.

But instead of hurting, it was funny for them. Jisoo was maybe not mad. But isn't everyone mad and angry? Even only sometimes?

Namjoon grabbed Tae's hand to get his attention. “What are you gonna tell her?”

Tae's other hand wrung on itself. 

That was okay, it was natural to doubt himself. Namjoon proposed that they go through it and practice together. “How does that sound?”

Yes. Good.

Namjoon was Jisoo for a moment. “How are you?”

“Huh?”

“How are you doing?”

“I'm God.”

“You're God?” Namjoon tried to hold back a laugh, he had to. Tae's lips were about to cave, knowing he just did something wrong. 

Tae went again, “I'm good… boy?”

Hobi hummed on his way over, and dumped four plates down.

Jin and Namjoon looked up. Then at the plates. One stacked with desserts, cake on top of cookies, bingsu dishes pushed up against some sweet rices and jelly cups. Another plate with a pile of grease at the bottom from so much pizza, a piece of each kind up there. A whole plate of things that both Jin and Namjoon get and fruit for Tae – less to worry about.

And the fourth wasn't even his, he'd left his behind at the condiments so he could bring some foods that Jungkook for sure had to try. And Hobi wouldn't let it be any other way.

He went to the condiments, he would get other things for Jungkook.

Namjoon tried to handle the haul and find a place for everything. Cheeks puffed as he took a deep breath. Hobi was only expressing himself and wanted everyone to be happy.

Jin swatted him. “Don't touch it!” Jin could get it. No way he was having Namjoon spill, or throw all that food (yes, last time they came here, and another time at Gogi Beats, Namjoon made a cake fly).

Jin got out of the booth and went around the table to collect the first two plates, and swatted Namjoon for doing nothing, merely thinking about helping.

“Joon, move the napkin holder.”

Namjoon reached for it, freely since the server hadn't gotten them drinks yet.

“Don't break it!”

“I'm not.”

At that moment, the server was headed over with a tray of glasses.

Yoongi and Jimin and Jungkook, too.

And Jin started panicking. “Joon, hurry! Hurry hurry!”

Namjoon went flustered and took a plate from Jin to put it in the center, then the second plate, then –

“Don't spill it!” 

Taehyung took tiny steps past Hobi. He hugged Puppy, and looked back at Hobi wondering if he should get help or not to do this. But he really wanted juice bar.

Two adults stormed past him and he ran around the corner of the chicken to hide.

Yoongi squinted at the sight of a table full of plates. Where the hell did this come from?

Hobi?

This was Hobi behavior. But that begged the question, again: Where did the plates come from?

Yoongi just took these idiots up to the counter to ask for plates. He never ran into Hobi, or any new plates. Or tangerines.

Jungkook slid in the booth, next to Jin. The server was scary, and a little too loud when she clacked the drinks down on the table, but all this food looked great and he scored big.

Daddy Jin said, “Let's put these over here!” He took the plate with Jungkook's favorites and set it near Jungkook's drink. Then the plate with fruit and snacks could go between Jungkook's plate and Jin's drink. “And this is your drink, baby. Tell the server thank you. Or I will.”

Yoongi sat next to Jungkook, knowing full well he was about to be sandwiched with Jimin up his butt. Being next to Jungkook, despite the brat he was, made it worth it.

Namjoon stared at Jin. And the two new plates, the extra mystery plate they had no room for.

When Jin realized how crowded things were, he moved his own drink up into Namjoon's space. Papa wouldn't care and Tae didn't need much room. “There we go, baby. Let's get some napkins.”

Jin gave a big smile and thank you to the server. Then he nudged Namjoon. “Get out so I can go get food.”

Taehyung crept out back into the aisle, and saw Hobi nowhere. Just a few strangers, but he sighed as they went somewhere else.

The juice bar was so far away.

He took cover by the pizza. Worst place, but… No one here right now. And…

Something smelled really good. Rally, really good.

Like… His mop of hair came up, and he was at eye level to this really good looking pizza. Cut in squares.

mmm… It actually came out his throat, “Hhhhh…”

He very slowly let his arm come up, and his hand went for a piece.

So crispy and creamy and everything.

His fingers came up for more. He picked a second piece. And a crust.

A voice boomed behind him. A man towered. "Use the tongs."

Tae fell back.

“The tongs are there. Use them.” He had enough of all the damn kids tearing the buffet apart. He comes for a meal, a clean meal. Not slobber, not hands in food after all day of playing, picking nose, using the toilet and he can wager not once washing their hands. He paid money for this shit. And now this kid was digging into the pizza he'd spent ten minutes flagging staff down in order to request, only for it to finally come right as he was making his final plate.

Tae backed away, though frozen, he couldn't even breathe. It was all in his heart, racing so hard his neck hurt. The man closed in but was somehow ever bigger, ever taller

The man's hand was probably the size of Tae's face, and went into a fist to fight the urge to grab the kid or scream.

But to Tae, even his breath was like a scream. And his breath smelled, like Tae's aunt's did. Not like wine, like Dad's did sometimes, or beer like Papa. Okay, a little beer, but mixed. No, too much beer.

Tae shed a tear.

Everything went blurry, and wet and shaky. When he blinked enough, and it all came back, the man was turned around and there was Yoongi.

Chapter Text

The caseworker leaned over on the couch to get a good look at the Kims’ oldest son, Yoongi, in the chair. She could take the reason for the purple lip, but, “But you're so little…” And the lip was all he'd gotten when taking down a man bigger than his parents. Somehow.

However the agency and protective services weren't going to accept this, the laws and admins aren't so understanding of what kids get up to, and, just like in this case, it's often no fault of the parents or the home.

She put on her professional voice and turned to Jin, standing at the ling room doorway in case the others needed him upstairs, and Namjoon, leaned at the living room table, “Thank you for allowing me to speak to Yoongi regarding the incident.”

Namjoon nodded, “Thank you,” for her dismissing the officers who had tracked them down and insisting on handling this herself.

When she thanked Yoongi, he looked at Namjoon for permission to retreat back to his room – and maybe even be grounded there. He would have been lighting up with joy if it wasn't for how hard his brain was still ringing, and the fact he waited a whole minute to see if he was grounded, banished to his room, to never leave his bed – but it never came. He grabbed the tiger ice pack Jin had given him for his cheek, and went back to his room. At least everyone else was in their rooms, especially Jimin.

Namjoon's breath seethed, “I'm very sorry, Missus Wan. Yoongi has his demons and he's going through more than we can imagine."

“Yes, Mr Kim,” the caseworker raises her clipboard, “I understand, but this behavior is a serious problem. And it's something I recommend getting under control before the situation with Jungkook comes to a head, because they're going to judge you, hard.” When the investigation for some recent reports was to begin, the Kims didn't have a solid case here.

Namjoon's eyes closed to leave this conversation for a moment, to think. Who could have reported them for possible neglect? Yes, they have only what they have, and it wasn't getting much better unless they traded Jin's presence at home for more money, or unless the perfect therapist for Yoongi came up and a trial of finding Jungkook his therapist ended up taking less than a week. 

But Namjoon liked to think, at the very position they were in, it couldn't have been better. Yoongi, literally, almost hadn't survived his family or the system, and here he was, expressing himself and prioritizing himself. Hoseok and very beautiful person he's introduced Jin and Namjoon to could never thrive in a world that doesn't understand that Hoseok is still a whole person, and he still does great things. The sole reason they had finalized custody with Jimin was because he couldn't take initiative from anyone else to finally stick with occupational therapy, his mother only made his eating disorder worse while his father stood by the idea that it was a phase, deciding to take issue with his grades and behavior instead – which might have been a blessing in disguise, if it'd been one less thing for Jimin to getting verbally or physically bear up for. Similar to Taehyung, he'd outright refused anyone and everything else. Liking the two men who found him and fed him was enough for him to avoid the officers when Jin drove them to the department – the way Tae hid in Namjoon's coat and still then went straight to Jin's arms when he began to cry was plenty pressure for the chief to figure things out right away, there, at 2am.

They were enough. Namjoon at least hoped so. Jungkook was coming around quickly. Sure, the first week was already almost to a close, and they had only nine more days until the visit to the court, and ten days until the judge decided that Jungkook's condition had improved. But Namjoon and Jin would make sure they had done what was on the contract. Having taught him things, and given him tools needed to thrive in the institution the next city over – the one that would truly help him, not just hold him and provide food. 

But Jungkook had to be ready, be willing to do the basics, and be established with a therapist and school outside the corporate circle. At least having a person in the real world like Jimin or Hobi to write letters to or a role model like Jin to strive for was going to help no matter what, right?

 The kids were all upstairs making noise and Jin was taking every question and concern from the caseworker. And Jin didn't flinch when she said, “Yoongi's caseworker should be here in the morning. I suggest not giving a reason for the other agents to come, or for me to return before the day with the judge.”

“Yes.”

The caseworker gave Namjoon a stack of papers on the behalf of the administration. Changes they were recommended to make, some ideas to diffuse and solve common problems with foster children. Fortunately, in this situation, Yoongi was 17 and had less than two years of school left, he could be anywhere he wanted – Namjoon and Jin's home was a volunteer Service and Yoongi had yet to say he was leaning, and his time here was about to end any day, so his behavior wasn't much of anything. Pretty easy to control or remove him, to keep the others safe.

Jin's face was sour at the last page, though he held back from yelling, because this was no fault of hers, she was only here to relay.

Yoongi got upstairs and was welcome by Hoseok.

He groaned, “Move.” And down the hall he went.

But he didn't get far. Jimin was at his doorway, with one foot just on the threshold of Yoongi's door which was open for some reason. And full of… noises, a hush and squeaking of his bed and Taehyung's dog rubbing on stuff as it cuddled and “sniffed”.

Yoongi just had a silent car ride with these loons, what a shocker already, and he was trying to keep it that way. Go to his room, sulk over how he had ruined dinner, and doze off into the void.

“Come on, get out of my-”

Taehyung couldn't wait any longer for Yoongi to come into his room to be surprised. Taehyung hurried over to Yoongi and, with Puppy (safely) sandwiched between them, threw his arms over Yoongi. Hyung… Taehyung pushed his face into Yoon Hyung. “Hyung…” And his eyes drifted shut, deeper than they do when he doesn't sleep with his eyes open, and they sank a little as Tae lost himself in his brother.

“Thank you, Hyung.” Both in his aura and from his lips, onto Yoongi.

And Yoongi almost melted. Actually, he did melt. So hard he nearly grabbed Tae, his hand came up and fingers itched to rub Tae or nudge him or whatever the parents do. And love Tae. And he urged to say, “You're welcome. I'll always protect you.”

But he stopped. He simply couldn't do it. How was he supposed to do that?

And he wasn't about to risk Tae thinking he could do this all the time, and thinking that they were going to cuddle up and be buds and that Yoongi's so sweet and nice and…

He grabbed Tae's wrist and guided Tae off. “Okay, okay, I get it.” But Tae wasn't off him, Tae was still glued on.

“Taehyung…”

Tae gripped Yoongi the way Jungkook would – a whole new level of love that took Yoongi by surprise – and Yoongi found himself being pulled up and hoisted and waved as if Tae was meeting a 6-foot version of Puppy or a real life dog like Puppy.

“TTTTae,” Yoongi tried to set things straight, with a voice that was squished in his throat and grunting from the motion. “It was only a reflex-” He'd used violence to defend his biological brother and himself before, kids at school too. 

One day he'd even been picked out by these shop owners who run business for a local branch of the mafia, they'd tracked him down after a nightshift where he'd delivered a pizza to a shady place, gotten into a fight on the street corner and the guy's friend decided to run him over with their car and Yoongi got straight up, ready to keep going with his shoulder mangled up, and within 10 minutes still managed to get on his bike and head back to delivering pizzas as if his face wasn't battered. Nothing a mask couldn't hide. “It's a reflex, Taehyung.”

When Hoseok had come up to pull the man away from Tata and Yoongi's wrath, that was a reflex, too, ish. Or out of his control and not voluntary, as well, whether it'd been Hobi panicking trying to break up the fight or Jay getting educed and actually trying to aid in the fight.

But Yoongi couldn't use that as proof that this didn't matter, because Jay loves Tae too even if he shows it differently or Hoseok shows it differently during times Jay tries to front.

And Hoseok loves everyone. Here he hugged Jimin just because people seemed to be hugging right now. He took a surprise hug from Jungkook with a startle, then a “woo…”

Jimin knew what was coming when Jungkook went over and snatched him up, all smiles as Jungkook ripped him off the ground.

When Tae finally pulled off Yoongi, Yoongi saw Jungkook racing his way with hands out.