Healer

Mistakes

Taehyung was hiding.

Jimin stumbled upon his hiding place late one afternoon, when the sun was just starting to go down. The orange light decorated the leaves of the maple trees, casting soft shadows that flickered when the wind blew. He paused, one hand on a trunk, and stared at the hunched figure of his old friend.

Taehyung seemed not to notice him. He had shed his jacket, baring his arms to the cold, and was running his fingers along the scars that wrapped around his wrists, trailing up toward his elbow. Jimin swallowed, turning to go.

"What do you want, chim?"

Jimin froze, digging his nails into the bark of the tree beside him. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to--"

"It's fine," Taehyung said. Jimin turned and nearly collided with his friend's chest. Taehyung took one of his hands and laid it on the scars, smiling grimly.

"You gave these to me, after all."

"What?" Jimin breathed. His hand spasmed, tightening over the scars, and he watched, eyes wide, as Taehyung's face contorted in pain.

"Chim, hey--"

"You mean..." Jimin struggled to push reality and the memory apart, hand shuddering. "You mean... when they took me... I... to you..."

"We both tried to hold on," Taehyung said softly. "Your nails were just longer."

Jimin stared at the scars, eyes still wide. His stomach heaved, and he let go, pressing a hand to his mouth.

"I'm lucky they didn't have to chop my hands off," Taehyung said, laughing. "They were seriously infected for awhile. It was like you'd tried to-- chim?"

Jimin choked on bile, crumpling to his knees. Taehyung knelt beside him, but the scars on his arms were too obvious. Jimin retched, leaning forward, and threw up.

"Chim!" Taehyung cried. "Oh empress, oh empress, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to--"

The rest of his words disappeared inside the maelstrom of Jimin's thoughts. He sat back on his heels, shaking, staring into space. How could they have hidden this from him? He'd hurt them all, just as he'd hurt himself. There was no use hiding from it. He wasn't worth the effort they expended on him. He was broken. Broken, and used, and useless.

Taehyung took his hand, squeezing it tightly, and Jimin yanked it away. The touch burned. The pain in his stomach swelled. He should go. He should leave, run away, do something so Taehyung wouldn't have to see him like this. But he couldn't move. He couldn't speak. The shaking and the pain surrounded him, pinning him in place while Taehyung took his hand again, softer, pulling him into his arms.

Jimin shuddered, struggling to pull in air. Where was he? Outside the house, with Taehyung? The capitol, rushing to escape the guards? Alone, on the streets, waiting to be found? The ground dropped from beneath him, and he reeled, tumbling after it.