Yoongi woke up with a start, his heart pounding and his chest burning from the adrenaline rush. His eyes opened but all he could see was his nightmare on repeat. It had started off like it usually did, with him surrounded by darkness except for the porch lamp above the red, front door of his childhood home. His hand cautiously reached for the golden knob and twisted to the left. It opened by itself and at a painfully slow pace until it creaked, signaling its stop. He knew something was wrong as soon as he crossed the threshold. When he looked around the room, everything seemed normal. The living room was well lit as it always was in the evening when his mother cooked dinner. She hated a dark environment, it made her feel unmotivated and unwelcomed. Yet, there was no sign of his mother or anyone for that matter. The only thing that hinted at someone being home was his father’s briefcase beside the couch.

He called out for him and when he didn’t get a response, moved further into the house. His legs felt heavy as he moved towards his parents’ bedroom. The door was already open and he saw his father sitting on the edge of the bed, a gun to his head.

“Wait!” Yoongi shouted. He tried to move towards his father, but his feet were rooted to the floor. The harder he tried to pull his legs up, the tighter the invisible grip around him felt.

“I can’t do it anymore,” his father whispered. “I can’t do it anymore. I can’t do it anymore. I can’t…” he chanted the mantra over and over until Yoongi realized his voice was morphing into a different tone. His face transformed into someone else.

“I can’t take it anymore, Yoongi.” Jimin was in place of his father, tears welling in his eyes as he pulled back the hammer of the gun with his thumb.

“Jimin, wait, please!” Yoongi cried with his arm outstretched in a desperate attempt to stop what he knew was about to happen.

“I’m sorry,” Jimin said sadly. The gun went off.

Yoongi couldn’t help but relive the last moments of his nightmare, especially now that he was hyper-aware of how close he was to Jimin. During the night, Jimin had snuggled against him with his arms around Yoongi’s waist and his head on Yoongi’s chest. It was a habit he’d developed when he slept with Jungkook. He was so much taller than Jimin that it was like cuddling a human-sized teddy bear.

“You had a nightmare too?” Jimin asked suddenly. His voice startled Yoongi whose eyes were closed in hopes of falling back asleep even though he knew it’d be useless.

“How’d you know I was awake?”

“Your breathing changed.”

“How long have you been awake?”

“I don’t know. What time is it?” Jimin knew it had to be sometime early in the morning because the sunrise was starting to peek through the curtains. Yoongi turned his head to the bedside clock and noticed it was a little after six in the morning.

“It’s a couple minutes past six.”

“Then I’ve been up for an hour.”

“Just laying there in the dark?”

“Yep.”

Yoongi sat up, a difficult task because of the sudden pounding he felt in his head and because Jimin was laying on the bulk of his torso. With great difficulty, he reached up and turned the lamp on. Jimin sat up too and looked at Yoongi who was rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands.

“What was your nightmare about?” Jimin asked as he grabbed a pillow and hugged it. His hair was sticking up in different directions and his eyes were puffy from sleep.

“My father’s suicide. That’s what my nightmares are usually about so no shocker there, but...it was different tonight.”

“How so?”

“You were in it.” Jimin froze at that, unsure of how to respond. “I don’t know why you’d be there...maybe it’s because you remind me of him sometimes.”

“I remind you of your dad?”

“Yeah, but it’s only because you guys have the same work ethic. Nothing really past that,” Yoongi said. He knew it wasn’t really truth, but he didn’t want to admit why Jimin had shown up his nightmare. He’d only known him for a few days and already he was entering his subconscious. That scared Yoongi because it meant he cared about Jimin. The things he cared about never lasted very long in his life. Of course, he realized everything had a shelf life, but that didn’t ease the pain when those things he valued were gone. His father was gone, his mother blamed Yoongi for his death. It was only a matter of time before he and Hoseok went down different paths and life, and then he would be alone. No one to care for him, no reason to live anymore.

“I had a nightmare too,” Jimin said. “About Jungkook.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Jimin shrugged and held his pillow closer to his body.

“It’s pretty much always the same thing. Sometimes the scenes are different, but it’s the same, basic idea. Jungkook is leaving me and I’m really sad at first…but then I get really angry at him and I say things I don’t mean and I don’t say things that I really mean and I just…” Jimin’s voice trailed off and his eyes started burning as the tears came on. He tried to stop them by wiping his eyes but that only made it worse. Yoongi watched him break down and begin crying. He cautiously moved over to Jimin and embraced him. He let Yoongi hug him as he quietly cried out everything he’d been holding in for so long. He never really talked about what happened between him and Jungkook, not even to his best friend Namjoon, because he didn’t want people to think differently of him. If they knew how Jungkook died, Jimin didn’t think he’d be able to look at him the same. Even though he hadn’t told Yoongi the full story, he didn’t feel the same hesitation with him as he did with Namjoon. It was easy to talk with Yoongi. Maybe it was because they both had their personal demons, but Jimin felt a stronger, inexplicable pull to confess to Yoongi.

Yoongi gently rubbed Jimin’s back while he cried until his sniffles died down. Even when Jimin was quiet, Yoongi still didn’t speak. He wanted Jimin to speak first to make sure he had gotten everything out of his system and that he was emotionally in an okay place to talk again.

“I’m sorry,” Jimin said.

“You don’t have to apologize.” He pulled away from Jimin and took in his puffy eyes and blotchy skin. “Do you feel better?” Jimin nodded and wiped away the last few tears on his face.

“I haven’t cried that much since Jungkook died,” Jimin said quietly. He sniffled some more and Yoongi waited patiently waited for Jimin to speak again.

“I haven’t really talked about his death either...I’m scared to.”

“Why?”

“I’m afraid people will look at me differently.”
“Why would they look at you differently?” Yoongi was genuinely confused by Jimin’s apprehension to grieve, but he also didn’t want to make him uncomfortable and angry at for pushing him. He doubted anything could make him think of Jimin differently aside from Jimin admitting that he himself was the cause of Jungkook’s death. That thought seemed highly unrealistic though, so he discarded it from the realm of possibility.

“The night Jungkook died, I had gotten drunk, which wasn’t unusual after a fight. I saw him getting ready to leave with a suitcase and he told me he was going for good. Of course, I begged him to stay, but he became so…so mean. He said humiliating things about me and I got mad and told him to leave and to never come back.” Jimin’s eyes began to water again at the thought of that night. Their screams echoed in his mind.

“It rained that night. I remembered because I heard the screeching of tires hitting the asphalt. Then a crash. Then silence.” Jimin wiped at his eyes again. “Jungkook was hit by that car, there was nothing that could have been done to stop it, but…” He began crying streams again and his words were almost incoherent, “I always thought that…maybe if I had begged harder…or maybe if I hadn’t…been so angry and yelled…he would have stayed…and that he’d still be here.” He put his head down in his hands. “It’s all my fault, Yoongi…I shouldn’t have let him…leave.” Jimin was silently shaking and instead of hugging him, Yoongi guided Jimin to lay down and held Jimin’s head in his arms. He ran his fingers through Jimin’s hair in attempts to soothe him and eventually Jimin was still even though he continued to cry.

“I’m…so-sorry,” Jimin apologized again.

“You don’t have to be sorry, Jimin, I understand how you feel. I felt guilty about my dad’s death for a really long time,” Yoongi replied quietly.

“W-why?”

“Because I always thought that my decision of wanting to rap drove him over the edge on top of what he was already stressed with. Even my mother blamed me for his death.” Jimin was quiet at that, only emitting soft sniffles every so often. Yoongi continued running his fingers through Jimin’s hair, now to soothe the both of them.   

“How were you able to stop feeling guilty?”

“Because I realized that I was taking the blame for something I couldn't help. Even if I had been the perfect child to him it wouldn't have helped.”

“Why not?”

“Because my father had bipolar disorder. It was mild, but it was enough to affect him. He had a therapist that he didn't tell anyone about and when she heard he had killed himself, she confessed that he had been coming to her for the past year, but he had never hinted at the fact that he wanted to die.” Yoongi's eyes burned with the image of the woman. Pristinely dressed with soft eyes. She couldn't have been older than thirty-five.

“When everyone else had left, I stayed behind and talked to her about my father and I's relationship. She assured me that it wasn't my fault and that it couldn't have been helped. Even if my father was in the perfect environment, he would have always felt like he was suffering.” Both boys were quiet after that. Jimin didn’t know what to say and Yoongi was trying to get the images of the hospital and the woman out of his head.

“I wish I was strong like you,” Jimin sniffled.

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t carry that burden like I do because you were strong enough to realize it wasn’t your fault.”

“Just because I realized it wasn’t my fault doesn’t mean I don’t carry the burden. I see him in my nightmares every night. I see him shooting himself.” Now Yoongi was tearing up. “I miss him, Jimin.” His voice cracked and Jimin looked up to see tears silently streaming down Yoongi’s face.

“I know you do Yoongi,” Jimin said gently as he reached up and wiped Yoongi’s tears away. They looked at each other then, close enough to see the other’s facial features even in the dim lighting. Neither of them needed the lights on to see each other’s hurt. They could feel it in the way they held each other.