“Jiminie, let’s order a pizza.”

“You can go ahead and order one, but I’m not hungry.”

Taehyung pouted, trailing after Jimin as he walked into the living room and picked up his shoes that were sitting by the door.

“But you didn’t eat lunch with me either.”

Jimin shrugged, sitting down on the floor to pull his shoes on without bothering to lace them. “Sorry, Tae, I’m just not really hungry.”

“Where are you going?” Taehyung asked, finally realizing that Jimin was leaving as the smaller boy stood up.

“The gym. And then maybe back to the studio to practice.”

“But we just got back from practice.”

Jimin smiled, reaching up to poke Taehyung’s nose with his finger. “Practice makes perfect, Taetae.”

He turned without waiting for a response, leaving Taehyung rubbing his nose and frowning slightly in the doorway.

--

“Namjoon hyung, do you think fish play poker?”

Namjoon blinked up at Taehyung, the computer screen casting a blue glow over his face in the dark room. “I have no idea,” he said with a sigh. “I’m working, Taehyung. Why don’t you go ask Jimin?”

“I can’t,” Taehyung pouted. “I don’t know where he went and he isn’t answering my texts.”

Namjoon raised an eyebrow. “Again? He’s been disappearing a lot lately.” Taehyung’s worried expression had him backtracking immediately. “Don’t worry, Tae, he’s probably just going over some choreography. You know how he completely forgets about the time when he’s dancing.”

Taehyung didn’t reply as Namjoon turned back to his computer and pulled his headphones back over his ears. He was right, Jimin did have a problem with obsessively going over moves that he was already perfect at, but Taehyung couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that settled in his stomach.

--

“You need to eat something, Jimin.”

Taehyung watched as Seokjin frowned down at Jimin. Jimin sighed and pulled a bowl toward him, filling it up only halfway with cereal. “I’m not hungry,” he grumbled.

“You weren’t here for dinner, so you’re going to eat breakfast, whether you’re hungry or not,” Seokjin said, settling down at his place at the table to eat.

Taehyung watched Jimin poke at his cereal. He was wearing a huge, oversized hoodie, the hood pulled low over his head and sleeves falling in baggy wave past his hands. He didn’t bother pushing them up as he frowned at the food in front of him, a crease forming in the middle of his forehead. Taehyung saw Jimin’s bottom lip tremble slightly.

Taehyung stood up and leaned across the table, pressing his finger into the crease in Jimin’s forehead to smoothing it out, making Jimin jerk in surprise.

“Don’t be sad, Jiminie,” Taehyung whispered.

Jimin smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes as he dropped his gaze back down to his food.

--

“Hobi hyung, do you think Jimin’s been acting weird?”

Hoseok didn’t bother opening his eyes as Taehyung stood over him in the dressing room. There was over an hour before their next show and the rapper was trying to get as much sleep as he could before they were called to the stage. The other members were still getting their makeup done, leaving Taehyung and Hoseok alone.

“He’s always weird,” Hoseok replied, his words muffled by the arm he had thrown over his face.

“No, I mean, does he seem unhappy to you?” Taehyung pressed.

Hoseok moved his arm and peered up at Taehyung. “No, not really,” he said slowly. “All I’ve noticed is that he hasn’t been home much. But he does that sometimes when he stays late at the studio.”

Taehyung shook his head. “It feels different this time.”

Hoseok frowned, shifting to prop himself up on his elbows. “Different how?” he asked.

Taehyung squatted down, chewing on his lip as he struggled to find the right words. “It’s like…. He’s shutting himself off.”

Hoseok raised an eyebrow. “Explain,” he prompted.

“I don’t know if I can,” Taehyung said, flopping down onto his bottom with a frustrated sigh. “It’s like he’s trying to distance himself from the rest of us. Like he’s hiding something.”

Hoseok blinked. “I think you might be reading a little bit much into this,” he said. “Sure, he’s been looking a little more tired than usual, but I don’t think he’s hiding anything.”

Taehyung opened his mouth to reply, but closed it again as the dressing room door opened and Jimin stepped inside. Even with the careful work the makeup artists had done, Taehyung could still see the dark circles etched under his eyes.

He sprung to his feet and bounded over to Jimin, throwing an arm around his shoulder. Jimin smiled back, circling his arm around Taehyung’s waist, but even as Taehyung began to chatter to him about robot cows he could see the smile fading from Jimin’s face as his eyes turned sad.

--

Jimin’s flinch was barely noticeable, but Taehyung saw it as the stylist showed them the shorts and tank tops they would be wearing for the photoshoot. The other members were already crowding around, laughing as they compared costumes, but Jimin held back, chewing on his lip.

“You okay, Jiminie?” Taehyung asked, throwing his arms around Jimin’s shoulders and nuzzling up against him.

 “I’m fine,” Jimin smiled. “I just don’t want to wear a tank top, I’m already cold.”

He wheezed slightly as Taehyung tightened his hug. “I can warm you up,” he grinned.

Jimin giggled, but began to detach himself from Taehyung’s octopus grip. “Thanks Tae, but I’ll see if maybe they’ll let me where a sweater or something.”

Taehyung watched as Jimin walked away from him and began to speak softly to one of the stylists. He saw the stylist nod and hand him a white sweater that matched the rest of his costume.

Jimin turned back to Taehyung and gave him a thumbs up sign before disappearing into one of the back rooms to change. Taehyung watched him go, the memory of the small trembling in Jimin’s shoulders as Taehyung held him still burned into his memory.

--

Taehyung stood outside the tiny practice room listening to Jimin sing. He had been standing there for over an hour listening, but he knew Jimin had been there much longer. His voice was starting to get raw and crack on the high notes. Every time his voice broke, Jimin would cut off and, after a slight pause, start over from the beginning.

“What are you still doing here? I thought the rest of you went home hours ago.”

Taehyung turned to see Yoongi standing behind him.

“I’m waiting for Jimin,” Taehyung said.

Yoongi nodded, following Taehyung’s gaze to the door as Jimin’s voice cracked and he broke off. This time though there was no sound from inside except for a tiny whimper.

Taehyung moved forward, reaching for the door, but Yoongi’s hand on his shoulder stopped him. “Leave him alone for awhile,” the rapped said, still watching the door as it muffled the sounds of Jimin’s sobs. “He’s probably just having a bad day.”

Taehyung shook his head. “I don’t think it’s a bad day, hyung. I think something’s wrong with him.”

Yoongi sighed and dropped his hand from Taehyung’s shoulder. “He’s just tired. He’ll be fine once he goes home and gets some sleep.” He turned away, heading back toward room he had adopted as his writing room. “Just leave him alone and let him cry it out. He’ll be fine tomorrow.”

Taehyung walked slowing toward the front of the building, but sat down on one of the benches in the waiting area. He leaned his head against the wall and tried to fight off the waves of exhaustion that were pushing him closer toward sleep.

He felt so helpless. Something was wrong, he could sense it, but no one else could. Why couldn’t anyone else see how tired and drawn Jimin had been the past several weeks, or how must weight he was losing? Why was Taehyung the only one who saw the helpless look in Jimin’s eyes or how good he was at hiding it?

And why was Jimin trying to hide it from him too?

He was almost asleep when he heard the slow scuffing noise of heavy footsteps nearing him. He looked up in time to see Jimin walk past him, wearing the same oversized hoodie that he had hardly taken off the past several weeks. His arms were shoved into the hoodie pocket and his eyes were fixed on the floor, so he didn’t see Taehyung sitting on the bench as he made his way slowly to the door.

--

“Where’s Jimin?”

Taehyung looked up from his phone to see Jeongguk standing in the doorway to their bedroom.

Taehyung frowned. “I thought he was at the gym with you. That’s where he said he was going.”

Jeongguk shook his head. “He said he was going to the store with you.”

Taehyung felt like his stomach was turning to lead. “Let’s go, Kookie,” he said, springing off the bed. He knew it was cold outside, but he didn’t bother to grab a jacket as he ran into the living room and snatched up his shoes, shoving his feet into them before slamming the door open.

He could hear Jeongguk running behind him, calling questions to him, but Taehyung didn’t respond as he sprinted forward. His shoes were slapping hard against the pavement in time to the wild beating of his heart. He shoved the glass door of the studio open, not waiting to see how close behind him Jeongguk was.

He tried the dance practice room first, but the lights were off and the door was locked. He turned away with a soft curse and ran toward the vocal practice room. His heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest as he skidded to a halt in front of the door. He could see a light on under the door, but it was silent inside and his hands were shaking so badly that he almost couldn’t turn the handle. As he pushed the door open, he let out a strangled sob and flung himself down on the ground next to Jimin’s still form. The chair he had been sitting on was knocked over and Taehyung shoved it out of the way as he bent over Jimin. His chest was rising and falling steadily, but his eyes were tightly closed.

“Jiminie,” Taehyung whispered. He felt like he was going to throw up.

Jimin’s hoodie was lying in a heap by his head, letting his t-shirt reveal a checkered pattern of cuts across the skin of his arms. Some were fading into scars, but others were fresh, bleeding in tiny red rivers down his arm and pooling onto the floor. Some were shallow, but others were deeper, slices into Jimin’s beautiful, soft skin. Resting in Jimin’s limp right hand was a tiny knife, open and the blade slick with blood.

“Oh my god!” Jeongguk’s voice behind Taehyung was little more than a strangled gasp, but it was enough to jolt Taehyung out of his shock.

“Jeongguk, call an ambulance,” he ordered as he grabbed Jimin’s discarded hoodie and began to press it against the deepest of the cuts. “And Yoongi hyung,” he added. “He’s probably still here.”

He could hear Jeongguk’s voice behind him, but the words faded to a distant buzz as he crouched over Jimin. “Please, Jiminie,” he whispered. “Please, please, please, please.”

At some point Yoongi was there, kneeling beside him and saying something that Taehyung didn’t understand. Then more people were filing into the room, people in uniforms who were trying to pull him away, trying to take him away from Jiminie. He struggled against the hands trying to pull him away. They didn’t understand, Jimin needed him. He was hurt and sad. No one else knew, no one else could see. He needed Taehyung.

“Taehyung, it’s okay,” Yoongi’s voice cut through the panicked fog of Taehyung’s mind. “You can stay with him, it’s okay.”

His focus returned and he watched as the medics carefully lifted Jimin onto a stretcher and wheeled him out of the tiny room. Taehyung shook off Yoongi’s hands and followed, both Yoongi and Jeongguk staying close beside him. It was late enough that the building was mostly deserted, making it easy for the medics to get Jimin out the door and into the waiting ambulance. No one said anything when Taehyung climbed in after them and settled down beside Jimin, taking his limp hand and holding it tightly.

--

“Taetae.”

Taehyung blinked his eyes open, looking around him in bleary confusion. He was sitting on a hard plastic chair in a whitewashed room that smelled a little bit too clean. There was a soft, annoyingly insistent beeping sound coming from close by that made Taehyung want to go back to sleep just so he wouldn’t have to hear it anymore.

“Taetae.”

Taehyung looked down as the horse voice called to him again. Jimin was watching him almost warily from where he lay in the center of the hard hospital bed. He looked pale and tiny against the crisp white sheets and his arms were covered in clean bandages. An IV was attached to one of his arms, attaching him to one of the annoying beeping machines.

“Jiminie!” Taehyung lunged forward and grabbed Jimin’s hand, probably a bit more enthusiastically than he should have, but Jimin gripped Taehyung’s hand back tightly. “Are you feeling okay?”

Jimin started to nod but then stop and slowly shook his head. “I’m so tired,” he whispered. “What happened?”

Taehyung shifted forward so he was kneeling beside the bed, putting him at eyelevel with Jimin. “You’ve been in the hospital for two days. They said you passed out from exhaustion and malnutrition,” Taehyung said softly.

Jimin glanced down, wincing when he saw the bandages covering his arms. “Did you see?” he whispered, not meeting Taehyung’s gaze.

“Yes,” Taehyung replied softly.

Silent tears began to seep out of Jimin’s eyes and track their way down to the pillow. “I’m sorry, Tae,” he whimpered. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve tried harder, I should’ve been stronger. I didn’t want you to see, I’m so sorry-”

He broke off with a tiny hiccupping sob as Taehyung leaned forward and nuzzled against the side of Jimin’s neck. “It’s okay, Jiminie,” he whispered. “I know how hard you are on yourself, but you don’t have to be.”

“I know, but I couldn’t stop,” Jimin said between sobs. “I couldn’t eat, it just made me feel slow and bloated, and then whenever I would make a mistake singing or dancing I just felt like complete trash. I found the knife and I just couldn’t stop. It was like I was watching myself from the outside for weeks and I couldn’t stop myself, or say anything, or even ask for help. I was so scared, Tae, I was just so scared.”

Jimin’s voice broke and his sobs grew, shaking his frail body. Taehyung didn’t bother to hush him or calm him down, he just inched closer and wrapped his arms around the smaller boy’s body, letting Jimin cry.

Taehyung’s knees were stiff by the time Jimin’s sobs began to quiet and he fell back against the bed, exhausted. Taehyung shifted slightly, but stayed where he was, holding onto Jimin’s hand.

“I need help, Tae,” Jimin whispered as Taehyung reached over to the tissue box beside them and grabbed several, dabbing gently at Jimin’s face to mop up the tears.

“The doctor said he would talk to you about options when you woke up. Seokjin and Hobi hyung have been doing a ton of research on therapists, though,” Taehyung murmured, tossing the tissues into the bin beside them. “They came up with an entire list of them for you to look at when you feel up to it to see if you’d want to meet with any of them. Yoongi hyung vetoed a bunch of them already though. I’m not really sure why, I think he just arbitrarily doesn’t like people.”

Jimin gave Taehyung a tiny smile before his face fell again. “I don’t know if I could talk to someone I don’t know,” he whispered, threading his fingers in between Taehyung’s.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” Taehyung said, squeezing Jimin’s hand comfortingly.

“But you want me to.”

Taehyung was quiet for a minute before he said, “I want you to do whatever will help you. I don’t want you to force yourself into doing something that will make you feel worse.”

Jimin nodded slowly. “I’ll try it. But…. will you go with me?” he asked timidly.

Taehyung smiled, bending over to nuzzle his face against Jimin’s again. “Of course, Jiminie,” he replied softly. “I’m here whenever you need me.”

--

When Namjoon and Seokjin quietly entered the hospital room, they stopped in the doorway, looking over at the bed with tired smiles. Somehow Taehyung and Jimin had managed to both lay down in the narrow bed and were now both fast asleep. Taehyung was curled up protectively around Jimin, one leg thrown over both of Jimin’s and his arm wrapped around the smaller boy’s stomach, being mindful of his bandaged arms.

The two older boys backed out of the room, silently shutting the door behind them, leaving Taehyung and Jimin in peace.

--

“Taetae,” Jimin whispered sleepily as the door shut behind their hyungs.

“Hmm?”

“Let’s order a pizza.”

Taehyung’s soft laugh ghosted over Jimin’s cheek as he hugged the smaller boy closer. “Okay, Jiminie,” he replied.

But they were both asleep before either could say anything more, falling into the comforting embrace of unconsciousness.