Dreamcatcher Part 1

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Genre: Angst

Word Count: 15 642 Words

Pairing: TaeKook

:warning: Trigger warnings: :warning:

Guns,PTSD, Major Character Death, Major Character Injury, Near Death Experience, Tragedy.

Please guys I mean these seriously so please please take them to heart before reading this story.

It is not a happy ending and talks about some really deep topics and dark themes.

I have had to split the story into 2 because amino doesn’t like having more than 10k words apparently link to part 2 will be at the bottom

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Jeongguk watches from the snow-covered fields as Taehyung finally makes the decision to jump out of the third floor window. His blood-stained body drops quickly onto the icy ground below; light as a rag doll, limp and frail. The snap of a broken bone resonates loud and clear in the silence of the cold, dead air, echoing through Jeongguk’s ears and sending chills up and down the length of his spine.

He closes his eyes tight, takes a deep breath in. Despite the countless times that he’s forced to stand on this very spot and watch this exact same scene unfold before him, Jeongguk still finds the sight of it all extremely difficult to stomach. If there’s one thing he’s sure of, it’s the fact that none of this will ever get any easier. Having to watch the person that he loves get hurt over and over again, all the while having absolutely no way to help at all, is the most gruelling thing that Jeongguk will ever have to endure.

But considering the fact that Jeongguk himself is the one who left Taehyung all alone in that place, scared and completely helpless, he’d already come to with the fact that this—this life sentence, or unlife sentence?— this must be the only punishment that he truly deserves.

The early-morning December winds prick at Jeongguk’s skin like tiny little daggers, making the slightest of his movements more painful than the last. Wet, melted snow seeps through the soles of his boots, numbing his toes to the point where he can’t even feel himself walking as he makes to do so. Jeongguk shuffles in closer, closer, until he’s standing only a few feet away from positively the only good person left in this cruel fucking world, and the only person who doesn’t deserve to have his life ruined by this nightmare of a reality.

Kim Taehyung.

Jeongguk re the first time he saw Taehyung like it was yesterday. The tall and skinny boy with dark brown hair and obnoxiously green highlights who strutted into their Intro to Financial Management classroom with the kind of look in his eyes that caught Jeongguk’s attention in an instant.

Jeongguk had always liked studying people. He’s completely fascinated by micro gestures and those subtle changes in facial expression that people subconsciously let slip without knowing. People reveal a whole lot about themselves through nonverbal cues, like the slightest flicker of light in their eyes or the smallest twitch on the corner of their lips. Those barely noticeable actions probably speak louder of the truth than any voice that will ever come out of their mouths. So, whenever class got a tad bit too boring for Jeongguk, he’d search for a new target to watch over and study. But he never wasted his brain power analyzing them for too long. Eventually, even the quietest kid in class with the darkest secrets hidden behind his eyes ended up boring the living death out of Jeongguk. Too easy, he thought, these people were just too damn easy to read.

That is, until Kim Taehyung came along.

Taehyung transferred into the class halfway through the semester, stomping angrily up the steps of the lecture hall and sliding into an empty seat by the windows, two rows in front of Jeongguk. The first thing that Jeongguk noticed when he saw him, was that this boy stood out like the sorest of all sore thumbs. His floral-patterned overcoat and tilted beret unapologetically sets him apart from the sea of business suits and monotonous color schemes. Jeongguk was suddenly reminded of the imagery of a single, blooming flower in the midst of a deserted drought.

The second thing that Jeongguk noticed is that Taehyung doesn’t have a laptop with him. Rather, the boy opted for a drawing pencil and an unlined notebook, something that Jeongguk definitely didn’t see everyday in business school. And through the frenzied chatter of fingernails against keyboards, there would always be a distinct scratch of pencil against paper coming from Taehyung’s direction.

He liked to sketch the professor. Or the student sitting on the opposite side of the class, the trees outside the window, clouds in the sky, birds on the window sill, anything. By the end of the month, Jeongguk couldn’t stand to stare helplessly at the back of the boy’s head any longer. He wanted to see his face, wanted to look straight into his eyes and find out every, single detail about him.

The next class, Jeongguk decided to settle for a new spot two seats directly to the left of Kim Taehyung’s. He ed feeling extremely on edge that day, chugging down his americano like it was some alcoholic drink to chase away the nerves. Jeongguk had never felt this intrigued by someone before, not to the point where he physically tried to get closer to the person. It made him question whether his ‘art of watching’ might have reached some sort of new, stalker-ish level. He hopes not.

“You don’t belong here, do you?” A deep voice suddenly asked.

Jeongguk looked up at the speaker, his heart leaping right out of his chest when he realized that the voice belonged to no other than the person that he’d been obsessing over for the past month, Kim Taehyung.

“I-I….” Jeongguk stuttered, “I couldn’t see well from the back, so I moved up here.”

Taehyung snickered and slid into his seat, “That’s obviously a lie.” he said flatly.

“What?” Jeongguk was taken aback.

“Look, I don’t know why you lied about changing seats, but what I meant was that you don’t belong in this school, do you?” Taehyung raised his eyebrows and looked Jeongguk straight in the eyes.

If Jeongguk expected himself to start sweating like a nervous wreck, he was wrong. Something about Taehyung’s dark-brown eyes were so comforting, and so kind. He felt an unexpected sense of security in them, like he could tell the boy anything in the world and he would simply….understand.

“No.” Jeongguk replied, a smile curling up the corners of his lips, “No, I don’t belong here. But neither do you.”

Taehyung smiled widely back at him and offered his hand, “I’m Kim Taehyung, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

“Jeon Jeongguk,” he shook the other’s hand, “it’s nice to meet you too.”

Right now, as Jeongguk stands alone on the eerily quiet fields of ice-cold winter, watching Taehyung regain consciousness from his three-story fall, all he wants to do is to walk up to the other and say to him the same thing that he said to Jeongguk all those years ago,

‘You don’t belong here, do you?’

Ironic, isn’t it? How his love for Taehyung blossomed from the way that he began watching the other from a distance all those years ago, too mesmerized to look away and too shy to strike up a conversation. It’s kind of funny to think about the position that Jeongguk is standing in right now. Sentenced to an afterlife of doing exactly what he loves most: watching over Kim Taehyung’s every move, making sure that he is safe and guarded, and protecting him from any harm that comes his way.

But there are limits to Jeongguk’s powers, and as of this moment, all he can do is stand by and watch.

He watches as Taehyung’s skinny body begins to the freezing temperatures of the outside, shivering violently as he feels the stinging touch of winter’s wind piercing into his skin. He watches as the honey blond finally opens his eyes, grunting lowly as he presses a bloody hand to the side of his head, scowling in pain. Taehyung tries to stand up, but only to screech out loud at the burning sensation that must’ve spread throughout the entirety of his lower body. He snaps his head down, coming face to face with the sight of a sharp, white bone protruding from an ugly tear on the inner side of his right thigh. There’s thick blood gushing out of the wound, spewing across Taehyung’s leg and dripping down onto the canvas of white-out winter, painting everything a deep shade of crimson.

Jeongguk winces, swallows thickly. It’s never easy to watch, he thinks, never easy. As Taehyung’s face slowly rips apart in complete and utter horror at the sight of his broken leg, Jeongguk fights all his urges to turn away. He reminds himself that he must watch everything. He must, watch, everything. It’s a repetitive mantra that’s burned onto the back side of his mind. Of everything that’s happening, Jeongguk cannot let a single detail slip between his fingers. If he did, Taehyung would be the one to suffer the consequences, and Jeongguk can’t have that happen. Not anymore.

He glares through the sting in his eyes as Taehyung attempts to drag his broken body behind a nearby bench for cover. That’s when Jeongguk hears the footsteps, and he guesses that Taehyung must’ve heard them too. They’re quick and heavy ones, stomping hurriedly through the snow, heading right for Taehyung’s direction. As Taehyung lets out another screeching cry for help, the scene around them abruptly fades into a tunnel of soft clouds, tearing their bodies away from the snow-covered fields more faster than the blink of an eye.

-

They’re back in Taehyung’s bedroom in Daegu now, with Taehyung safely curled up on his bed and Jeongguk standing tensely in his usual spot by the corner. The honey blond jolts awake with a loud gasp, eyes wide and lips pale, chest heaving up and down as he tries to catch his own breath. He rips the blanket away from his lower body and stares down at his right leg. Running a shaky finger along the pinking scar on his inner thigh, Taehyung frowns in confusion before closing his eyes tight, shaking the remnants of the nightmare away from his mind.

Jeongguk attentively studies his face to see how much of the dream he actually recalls. All if it, Jeongguk answers his own question. He re all of it. Sighing deeply, Jeongguk walks over to the other and carefully sits down beside him on the bed.

He reaches out, touches a palm to the side of Taehyung’s face and runs a thumb along his cheekbones softly, sympathetically. As always, Jeongguk lets himself dwell upon a sliver of hope that Taehyung might feel it. Feel the touch of his hand, feel him . He imagines Taehyung leaning back into him, big brown eyes looking up to meet his gaze halfway.

God, he loves Taehyung’s eyes so damn much.

It’s unavoidable, the expectations. The hope that certain things might miraculously turn out for the better. That somehow, Taehyung can still see Jeongguk, and maybe recognize him, maybe even his name. But like always, Jeongguk is more invisible to Taehyung than the air that he breathes. Had been so for the past three months, and since it was Jeongguk’s own actions that put him in this position in the first place, who else can he blame for this misery aside from himself?

Taehyung’s eyes fall shut as Jeongguk begins to work his ‘magic’. He’s not particularly fond of the term, even cringing slightly when he heard Namjoon using it for the first time. But Jeongguk didn’t really know what else to call it, so he guessed that ‘magic’ will do. If Jeongguk is completely honest, he never saw what he did as something magical. To him, it’s more like jumbling up a bunch of domino pieces—adding some and removing some—then realigning them into a different pattern than before.

Except those domino pieces just happen to be actual pieces of Taehyung’s memory.

Sometimes, he’d bring up the good memories and take away the bad ones, just to make Taehyung happier. Other times, he’d rewrite an entire memory completely. Like when he made Taehyung believe that he got his leg injury from falling off the roof while hanging up Christmas lights last December, or all those times when he turned the memory of Taehyung’s nightmares into good dreams just so that the other could start his day off with a smile.

This morning, Jeongguk decides to wipe it all. No manipulation, no alterations, no changes. This particular morning, the pain of the memory is simply too much for even Jeongguk himself to bear, and it hurts even more to know that Taehyung probably believes that it was just another nightmare.

When Jeongguk finally removes his hand from Taehyung’s cheek, the latter’s eyelids slowly lift up, long lashes fluttering like butterfly wings against the golden glow of March’s sun. Taehyung takes a deep breath in. He blinks once, twice, before exhaling contently, lips spreading into his unique, boxy-shaped smile. A cheerfulness that is just so typically Taehyung comes in to replace the initial look of fear on his face from earlier that morning.

“Mom!” The honey blond calls as he flips off the bed and skips toward the door of his bedroom, “Are those pancakes I smell?” he yells. Then, without waiting for a reply, Taehyung turns to grab an old sweater from the top of his drawer before heading downstairs, slight limp still prominent in the way that he walks.

Jeongguk slumps onto Taehyung’s bed with a heavy sigh.

Three months. He’d been doing this for three months, and every single time that Taehyung has one of his episodes, Jeongguk can’t help but feel the same, inescapable sense of guilt tightening its grasp around his throat. It’s because he feels responsible, feels that he is the one to blame for leaving Taehyung alone in that horrible place on that horrible day. If Namjoon were here, he’d probably tell Jeongguk to get out of his own head and to use these emotions for the purpose of better fulfilling his duties.

To protect Taehyung from the nightmare of his past.

Jeongguk stares blankly at the ceiling and lets out an audible sigh. Last night’s dream was definitely one of the bad ones. Extremely vivid, and terrifyingly clear. The chain of events were laid out exactly as it happened on the day of the incident. Other dreams that Taehyung had had before were usually more subtle than this one. Chase dreams and falling dreams, nothing too out of the ordinary if compared to anyone else’s typical nightmares. This one, however, this one was different. It was almost as if some big chunks of Taehyung’s memory decided to resurface all together all at once. A whole line of domino pieces that Jeongguk thought he’d stored away carefully, suddenly creeping out of Pandora’s box on it’s own.

It’s not like memory manipulation is an easy task for Jeongguk to keep up with, too, he can’t just make memories disappear or reappear with the snap of a finger. Aside from the emotional turmoil that he must face each day, the use of his powers are also physically draining for him as well. And like any other human being (if he can still call himself that), Jeongguk also makes mistakes sometimes. The repercussions of his mistakes, however, are suffered directly by Taehyung.

‘Memory slips’, that’s what Namjoon called them. Fragments of a memory that may have been looked across, and failed to be removed in the process of memory alteration.

The last time that a memory slip happened was a few weeks ago when Taehyung and his parents were walking home from a nice brunch in the city. They were turning around the block when a car’s engine suddenly backfired, the sound so loud that it triggered something inside of Taehyung’s mind in an instant. Jeongguk had been following behind from a distance, and before he even realized, Taehyung had dropped onto his knees in the middle of the sidewalk, curling over his own body with his hands covering his ears as he sobbed uncontrollably through a fit of cries for help.

Jeongguk had rushed to his side and put him to sleep as quickly as he could, and when Taehyung woke up on his mother’s bed that evening, he simply said, “You guys know how jumpy I am with loud noises. I mean, I’ve never liked getting balloons as presents, those things can pop out of nowhere!”

Jeongguk swallowed hard. Taehyung was never afraid of loud noises. He loved jump scare movies, and preferred to watch them alone in his bedroom because it “sets the perfect mood” for the genre. Taehyung always chose to ride the scariest roller coasters in the amusement park. He found the adrenaline rush of loud pop ‘s and bang ‘s and heart-dropping speeds to be some kind of thrill. Most of all, Kim Taehyung loved to sneak into the fields behind the airport whenever he felt like skipping school, just so that he could watch the airplanes take-off right above his head.

Taehyung was never afraid of loud noises. Jeongguk knew that, and his parents most definitely knew that too. But unfortunately, his mom and dad chose to believe him anyway. It was easier to accept a lie than to face the problem straight on, right?

Despite how conflicting it is for Jeongguk to do what he does, knowing that his ‘protection’ of Taehyung really meant that the other would be living in a happy bubble of fabricated truths, Jeongguk must do his job regardless. Too many times has he seen the fear in Taehyung’s eyes and felt the hurt in the breaking of Taehyung’s voice whenever he re even the tiniest piece of that terrible day. If Jeongguk can do anything about it, he’d make sure that the person that he loves will never have to feel pain like that ever again.

-

“Did you sleep well last night?” Taehyung’s mother asks as she hands a bottle of syrup over to her son.

“I did! Had a really interesting dream, too.” Taehyung replies before stuffing a big piece of pancake into his mouth.

Jeongguk chuckles at how fast Taehyung is going at those pancakes. The boy is practically breathing it in one after the other. And damn, those pancakes sure look good, Jeongguk thinks as he leans against the kitchen counter and folds his arms across his chest. Taehyung’s mother always made these perfectly golden-brown pancakes, crispy on the edges and soft and fluffy on the inside. Jeongguk kind of wishes that he might get the chance to try them someday, but he knows that he never will. On the plus side, the concept of hunger has long since been forgotten by Jeongguk’s body. Maybe that’s a good thing, maybe not. This isn’t the time for a (non)existential crisis.

“I was sitting in front of the Eiffel Tower in Paris, sketching the crowd.” Taehyung explains after chugging down an entire glass of orange juice.

His mother frowned, “The crowd?” she asks curiously.

“Yes, the crowd!” Taehyung exclaims. “Everyone sketches the tower, how boring. I’d rather observe the looks on people’s faces as they’re iring the view.” He’s about to take his empty plate to the sink when his mother stops him midway.

“Sit, baby. Your leg’s still healing. Don’t worry about the dishes.”

“Mom, I can walk just fine, alright?” Taehyung gets up from his seat and follows his mother into the kitchen, trying his best to hide the limp in his walk and failing to do so. “Please let me help you.”

Taehyung’s mom exhales once and shakes her head, “Since you walked all the way here, might as well.”

“Yay!” Taehyung chirps. He gives his mother a kiss on her cheek and starts to help her with rinsing.

“So, tell me more about that dream of yours.” His mother says.

Taehyung hums, “I don’t all the details, but one of my college professors was there too.”

His mother freezes. Jeongguk can see her visibly gulp as she cautiously hands Taehyung another plate, “Your c-college professor? Which one?” She asks.

Taehyung pauses to think, “Professor….Kim, I think. The one who taught me Art History in sophomore year.”

“R-right,” his mother nods deeply, as if to convince her own self that any of this was true, “from art school.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung replies, “I haven’t seen him in a while, I wonder if he’s doing okay.”

Taehyung’s mother glances up at him with the same look in her eyes that Jeongguk immediately recognizes as his own,

Guilt. Raging guilt.

Back in December, when Taehyung woke up after hours and hours of surgery, the last thing his parents expected to was see their son, laughing and giggling at himself on that ghastly hospital bed.

“I thought these things only happened in sitcoms and comedies,” Taehyung chuckled, “can’t believe I actually fell from the freakin’ roof while hanging up Christmas lights. How festive.”

The neurologist explained to his parents that Taehyung suffered from a mild concussion as a result of his fall, which may have damaged the region of his brain that controls memory. He speculated that Taehyung’s head injury may have caused him to have no recollection of the accident, and maybe the last few years of his life as well.

“What is your name?”

“Kim Taehyung.”

“How old are you?”

“I’m turning twenty-two in three weeks.”

“Do you know where you are, Taehyung-ssi?”

“At the hospital, obviously.”

“Which hospital?”

“I dunno. Somewhere in Daegu?”

“Daegu? Is that where you live?”

“Yes. I’ve been living here for the past twenty-one years.”

“Do you go to school in Daegu as well, Taehyung-ssi?”

“I used to. I graduated last May from the Art Institute of Daegu.”

“So, you studied Art?”

“Yes. Painting, to be exact.”

“I see. One last question,”

“Yeah?”

“Have you ever heard of the Choi-Park School of Business?”

“Hmm….can’t say that I have.”

“Alright. Thank you for your cooperation, Taehyung-ssi.”

So that was that. After a series of tests and interviews, the doctors came to the conclusion that Taehyung didn’t suffer from memory loss like they initially presumed. He actually ed everything pretty clearly, including the day of his ‘accident’ and how he broke his leg. It just happens that his memory served a completely different reality than the one that everyone else re. It was as if Taehyung’s mind had been running on a separate timeline from the rest of the world for the past four years.

But his parents immediately bought it without hesitation. They were quick to hold onto the story where Taehyung followed his dreams of going to art school, and the story where his broken leg came as a result of an unfortunate, Christmas-related accident.

It’s horribly twisted, Jeongguk knows. But he couldn’t blame Taehyung’s parents for choosing to play along with the lie either. Not when the truth hurts so much more.

As Jeongguk stands in the Kims’ kitchen, watching the way that a mother looks at her son with guilt in her glistening eyes, he comes to an understanding that the same questions that plagued his mind for the last three months probably never leave hers as well.

‘What if?’

What if none of this ever happened to Taehyung? What if he had gone to art school like he always wanted? What if he never ended up in that business school in Seoul?

“He was in the wrong place at the wrong time,” the policeman told his mother that day.

“We were in the wrong place at the wrong time,” Jeongguk whispers to himself.

-

Jeongguk follows closely as Taehyung leaves his house, heading for work. He’s been volunteering at a community nursing home in the outskirts of Daegu for almost a month now. Helping the caretakers with their jobs whenever he can and even offering to take care of the smaller tasks, like talking to someone to keep them company or helping the elders find their way around the residence.

Taehyung had always liked caring for people. He never hesitated to lend a helping hand toward others, no matter how big or small their problem was. It’s one of the aspects of Taehyung’s personality that Jeongguk ires the most, his indisputable generosity and his humble consideration of others’ well-being, even before his own. Up until this day, Jeongguk still believes that he will never be as half of a good person as Taehyung is.

“Have you ever tried to help?”

Jeongguk re Taehyung asking him this question back in freshmen year after they’d become friends for a month or so. They were sitting together on a bench outside of Choi-Park Building, a lunch spot that’s quickly becoming one of their usuals on the university campus.

“What do you mean?” Jeongguk asked back.

“When you do your thing, you know, where you start watching random people in class. What do you do with all that information?” Taehyung questioned as he stuffed a greasy french fry into his mouth.

“I dunno.” Jeongguk shrugged, not sure of what to say, “I just like to watch them, study their behavior, analyze.”

Taehyung chuckled, “Right. Psych major gotta act all psych major-y.”

“Psych and business, mind you.”

“And….the daily count for ‘how many times will Jeon Jeongguk bring up his double major?’ reaches a new record of nine !” Taehyung smiled smugly as he stole another fry right off of Jeongguk’s fingers. “Show off. ”

“Hey—!”

“You should try to help them, you know.”

“What, how? I only watch people for fun because these classes are literally draining my soul, Tae.” Jeongguk said as he pushed the rest of his fries away from Taehyung’s grabby hands. “It’s not easy studying two majors at the same time.”

Taehyung snorted a laugh, “Ten.” He teased.

“Stop! Just tell me what you meant by ‘helping them’.” Jeongguk whined.

Taehyung hummed, “You said that everyone has problems, right?”

Jeongguk nodded.

“Ok, look.” Taehyung gestured his chin at a boy sitting by himself on the steps of the Peterson School of Music, directly across the central courtyard from them. “Tell me what’s up with him.”

Jeongguk took a quick moment to study the boy. He was dressed in black, that was the first obvious thing that Jeongguk saw. From the beanie on top of his head to his oversized bomber jacket down to his ripped jeans and combat boots, all black. The way that he dressed made Jeongguk assume that he’s trying his best to stray away from the attention of the general public, but the contrast of those dark clothes against his fair skin and platinum, bleached-blond hair actually made him stand out even more. He’s got one earphone dangling from his left ear and his hands were scribbling something down onto a small, leather-bound notebook. Quite aggressively too, if Jeongguk might add.

“Probably just another angsty music major struggling with writing lyrics or something. How am I supposed to help the dude if I know nothing about his music?” Jeongguk asked, slightly skeptical.

Taehyung clicked his tongue once, “Watch carefully, Jeon. Even I could tell what his real problem is.” He scooted closer to Jeongguk and continued to watch the boy silently. After a short while, Taehyung exclaimed, “There!” He grabbed onto Jeongguk’s arm with one hand and pointed with the other.

The subject in question was checking his phone, brows knitted together and bottom lip caught tight between his two front teeth. He put the phone down and cracked his knuckles nervously. Then, he checked his phone again.

“I bet you one week of laundry chores that he’s waiting for a boyfriend’s text. Or an ex. Or someone special.” Taehyung wiggled his eyebrows cockily, “He’s got someone really, really mad at him and he’s trying to win them back.”

Jeongguk scoffed, “And you know this, how?”

“Just a romantic’s intuition.” Taehyung mused in a high-pitched voice. He moved his hands up to cup at his own cheeks as he batted his lashes at Jeongguk’s direction.

“Ugh, stop.” Jeongguk pretended to shiver, “And how do you suppose I help this guy out?” He asked.

“Well, you can go over there, and you can tell him what to do in order to win someone back.” Taehyung suggested, in a matter-of-fact manner as he picked up another one of Jeongguk’s french fries.

“Geez, I-I don’t even know how to do that, Tae. I’m not exactly experienced in the romance department.”

Taehyung rolled his eyes, “Christ, fine. Just go over there and tell him to buy the guy some flowers.”

“Flowers? Guys like flowers?”

“Don’t be sexist, everyone likes flowers.”

Funnily enough, that was the true story of how Jeongguk met his roommate and best friend, Min Yoongi. Yoongi is four years older than Jeongguk, but because he’d been working on his own for years in order to save up money for music school, he hadn’t been able to apply to college until much later than his friends. His classmates labelled him as the ‘old, loner guy’, and maybe it was the intimidating all-black ensemble as well, but many of them just wantonly chose to steer clear of Yoongi’s path because of that.

When Jeongguk walked up to him that day, Yoongi was indeed waiting for a text from his boyfriend, just like Taehyung said he was. His high school sweetheart from home, mad at him because he’d been paying more attention to music school than he was to the relationship. To lay it out flatly, Yoongi was simply feeling all kinds of helpless that day, and what he really needed was just someone to talk to. And despite their seemingly polar opposite appearances—Jeongguk in his business suit and Yoongi in his head-to-toe ‘underground rapper’ attire— their personalities actually fit with each other quite well. It’s all thanks to Taehyung that Jeongguk had the chance to meet another truly, good friend in the span of his one, short lifetime, and he will always be forever grateful for that.

He suddenly wonders what Yoongi is up to right now.

“This is a beautiful painting, Mrs. Park.” Taehyung’s voice chirps up, shaking Jeongguk out of his daydream. “Your use of whites and yellows really gives the piece a unique, glowing aura to it.”

“Thank you, my dear.” The old lady by the window looks up at Taehyung with a smile, “Would you like to guess what this is?”

Taehyung hums, “is it….a snow angel?” He asks.

“Close,” the old lady giggles, “this is my guardian angel.”

A soft gasp escapes Taehyung’s lips, “Wow, your guardian angel! I’d say she’s quite exquisite, Mrs. Park.”

“He,” the elder corrects him, “my angel is a he. My son, who ed away from a horrible disease many, many years ago.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that.” Taehyung sits down beside her, touching softly on the top of her hand, “What was his name?”

“Minhyuk.” She replies with a sad smile, “He was definitely everyone’s sweetheart. Even after his death, he continued to watch over me, you know? He listens to me when I talk about my bad days, and he shows me happy dreams in order to make me smile.”

Taehyung can only stare back at her, tilting his head curiously.

“I know it sounds bizarre, but I can feel him with me always, Taehyungie.”

“That’s very lovely, Mrs. Park.” Taehyung nods reassuringly as he makes to get up from his seat, “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

“Let me tell you something, dear.”

Taehyung turns his head back to look at the old lady.

“All the happiest people in the world have an angel like my Minhyuk watching over them. Someone who takes care of their heart and protects them from the dangers of this terrible, terrible world.”

The elder gets up from her seat and walks over to Taehyung, gently taking his hands in between her’s, “You seem like a happy kid, dear Taehyungie….

Is there an angel watching over you too?”

-

That night, Taehyung wakes up alone in a dark and empty room. The first thing he realizes, is that he’s lying on the floor; cold, flat surface pressing hard against his cheek. The second thing he realizes, is that he’s wet. Soaked, to be exact, like he’s lying right in the middle of a puddle of water. Lifting his head slowly, Taehyung makes to wipe the dripping wetness off of his cheek with the back of his hand. When he looks down, however, Taehyung is startled to find that it’s not water that he’s soaked in. It’s blood. Thick, warm blood, pooling underneath his body like a giant carpet of red.

Instinctively, Taehyung tries to get himself away as quickly as possible. He’s unable to do so, for some reason that he can’t understand, it’s as if his body is being weighed down onto the floor, only left with the freedom to move around his head and limbs. The next thought in his mind is a question: Whose blood is this? Taehyung shuts his eyes for a moment, searches his own body for some source of pain, but none. This is definitely not his blood. He opens his eyes and squints through the darkness as he scans the dimly-lit room for a way out, or any source of light that might him lead to an exit. That’s when he hears a voice speaking up from his right side.

“P-Play dead.” The voice said.

Taehyung snaps his head around, coming face to face with a boy that’s also lying face down on the ground, so close that their noses almost touch. He has jet-black hair and long bangs that settle right above the folds of his big, round eyes. His pale lips are trembling furiously as traces of blood trickle out from the corners of his mouth, dripping hauntingly slow into the pool of red underneath their bodies.

Taehyung didn’t recognize the boy, he’s pretty sure of that. But something about the hurt in his eyes and the proximity of their bodies makes Taehyung feel like his heart might break into a thousand little pieces on the spot.

“Play dead.” The boy repeats, his voice so quiet that it’s barely a whisper.

“I-I don’t understand—”

“Play dead, Tae.”

Taehyung is taken aback by the sound of his nickname. He knows for a fact that no one else aside from a few close friends from high school ever called him ‘Tae’. So how did this stranger know about his name? Who is this boy supposed to be, exactly? But before Taehyung can question it any further, the boy abruptly lifts up a blood-stained hand, and uses it to cover Taehyung’s eyes.

Everything becomes pitch-black again. All that Taehyung can sense, is the sharp taste of iron on his lips and the wetness of the blood that runs from the boy’s hand down the slopes of his own face. His heart is racing, thumping wildly in his chest, and it’s a feeling that Taehyung immediately recognizes as fear. Fear. He’s scared out of his mind right now, but the crazy thing is, Taehyung doesn’t quite understand why or what it is that he’s afraid of.

“You have to live.” Taehyung hears the boy whisper, choking on a sob.

“You have to live….for me.”

At the sound of a loud bang , Taehyung jolts awake in his bed. His eyes snap open, a look of sheer terror still evident in them as he coughs profusely, struggling to catch his breath.

In the corner of the room, Jeongguk stands, completely frozen.

Taehyung saw him.

Him. Jeongguk.  

How did that happen?

Jeongguk’s mind is spinning, racing at a thousand thoughts per second as he tries to make sense of the situation in front of him. Like the last nightmare, this one played out extremely lucid and clear, so accurate to the real events of that day that it frightens Jeongguk to the very core. He asks himself again, how the hell did this happen?

The first thing that Jeongguk made sure of after the incident was to erase all traces of that godforsaken day out of Taehyung’s mind. He deleted everything; the four years that Taehyung spent in Seoul, the classrooms and hallways of that awful business school, the teachers and the friends that he made along the way, everything . Anything that would ever remind Taehyung of that horrible day, Jeongguk made sure to get rid of. Including his own existence in Taehyung’s life as well.

Taehyung shouldn’t have been able to dream about him anymore, and Taehyung shouldn’t have been able to feel anything at the sight of his face, a stranger’s face.

He watches as Taehyung looks around his bedroom frantically, muddled thoughts battling against each other to try and make sense out of last night’s dream. There’s a mountain range of emotions flashing behind Taehyung’s eyes. Fear, confusion, pain, sadness, and even heartbreak?

Jeongguk can’t move. He knows what he’s supposed to do, he knows that he must walk over to Taehyung’s side, touch a palm to his face, and just finish, his damn, job. Change the memories, alter the surroundings, delete the horror, add some rainbows and sprinkles or some other happy shit like that. After all, creating this fake and pathetic fluff of a reality is what he’s really good at, right? But all Jeongguk can do is stand there, feet cemented into the floor of Taehyung’s bedroom as his fingernails dig deep into the skin of his palms.

Taehyung re him.

Jeongguk takes a deep breath in. He doesn’t understand how or why, but he knows that his mind is all kinds of conflicted right now. On one hand, he wants to keep protecting Taehyung from his past, but on the other, maybe he just wants Taehyung to keep ing him like this. Jeongguk can’t help but feel a sense of hope ri inside of his chest. The kind of hope that he knows is brutally unrealistic but also equally inevitable. Where after three, long and punishing months of Jeongguk convincing himself that Taehyung will most definitely never him ever again, he’s now faced with this new truth that Taehyung, in fact, can. And maybe Jeongguk just wants to be selfish for once. Maybe he just wants to know what Taehyung might do now that the other has seen his face in his dreams.

The bedroom door suddenly snaps shut in front of Jeongguk, breaking him away from his own thoughts.

Taehyung is gone.

Instantly alarmed, Jeongguk rushes out of the room and chases after Taehyung as he limps his way down the stairs toward the basement of the Kims’ house. It’s a small room where the family stores their old and unused items from the house, like boxes of Taehyung’s clothes and toys from when he was younger and other broken-down furniture that had been sitting idly in the dust for years.

Taehyung scrambles through the boxes, one after the other, pushing them off their stacks and causing trails of silvery dusts to rise into the air like miniature rain clouds. He won’t find anything, Jeongguk is sure of it. Taehyung’s parents had put the stuff from his dorm away in a secured storage room since three months ago, right when Taehyung got out of the hospital. They decided to do this all on their own too, Jeongguk himself didn’t even need to lift a finger. When they learned that Taehyung had no memory of the time he spent studying in Seoul, they immediately took the action of making sure that things would stay that way. There’s definitely nothing in this house that can remind Taehyung of Jeongguk.

The honey blond finally stops short when he finds the box that he had been looking for.

‘Taehyung Photos’

Taehyung rips the box apart and carelessly flips through all of its contents. There are albums, polaroids, some stray prints and some framed photos, mostly pictures of Taehyung and his friends from high school. He pauses for a second, tilting his head curiously as he reaches down to pick up a vintage photo frame that stood out from the rest of the pile. Taehyung flips the frame back and forth, probably wondering why there is no photo inside.

Jeongguk knows why.

At first, he almost didn’t recognize it. The dim lighting of the storage room and the golden paint chipping off of the intricate woodwork doing absolutely no justice to the frame’s original beauty. Taehyung had bought this from an artsy market fair that the two of them went to together in the summer before their junior year started. The frame caught Taehyung’s eye right away, had him rushing over to the stand and begging the seller to give him a discount for it because he’s ‘just a poor college student, struggling to even buy food’. As Jeongguk expected, the woman instantly fell for Taehyung’s puppy dog charms and she ended up selling the piece to him for only 20,000 won.

“Only the best photographs will deserve to be showcased in this ravishing frame.” Jeongguk re Taehyung saying, eyes lighting up with utter delight at his newest purchase.

Oddly enough, Jeongguk never saw Taehyung put that frame up anywhere in his dorm, which made him wonder whether Taehyung decided to store it for safe-keeping, or maybe he just hasn’t found a photo that was deserving of being displayed in that ‘ravishing’ frame.

The next time Jeongguk saw the frame, however, was during winter break of junior year, when Taehyung was visiting home in Daegu and Jeongguk had gone home to Busan. It was the first break that they’d spent apart, but even the physical distance couldn’t keep them separated for too long. Jeongguk and Taehyung ended up video calling every night, sharing stories about being home with their families and keeping each other updated on their day-to-day adventures.

One particular night, while they were skyping each other, Jeongguk noticed the familiar wooden frame sitting gracefully behind Taehyung on the top of his nightstand. Inside, was the first photo that Jeongguk and Taehyung had ever taken together.

Freshman Sports Games. Jeongguk re ing the business school’s Basketball team for that competition, making it all the way to the final round against the School of Engineering and beating them 12-10 on the last five minutes of the match. It was a special day for Jeongguk, because for the first time since he started college, he finally felt that he could become a part of this school, and that he didn’t have to feel anxious about fitting in anymore.

And right as the team were being awarded their individual gold medals, one Kim Taehyung suddenly hopped off of the stands and sprinted towards Jeongguk, crashing him into a bear hug of koala limbs and an overwhelmingly sweet scent of strawberry shampoo. The hug was followed by Taehyung shoving his phone at a complete stranger’s face and barking at the poor guy to take their photo for them. Thus, came the first of many photos that Jeongguk and Taehyung ever took together.

The thought of those old memories makes Jeongguk want to cry.

“Declaring your love for me, huh?” was what Jeongguk said to Taehyung on the night that he spotted the photo frame on the other’s nightstand.

“The fuck are you on, Jeon.” Taehyung deadpanned, the stillness of his delivery making Jeongguk laugh even more.

“I’m talking about that new work of art that you’ve added to your bedside gallery. What a handsome looking duo.” Jeongguk teased as he pointed into his webcam for Taehyung to see.

“Oh, that.” Taehyung muttered as he got up from his seat to fetch the frame. He sat back down and turned the photo toward his computer for Jeongguk to see, “The handsomest duo in Choi-Park Business.”

Jeongguk hesitated then, took a moment to think his next words through before he finally said, “The guy on the right is more handsome, though.” He whispered, waiting to see Taehyung’s reaction.

“Hmm? The guy on the right—” Taehyung flipped the photo around, “Aish, what a fucking narcissist. I can’t believe you just complimented yourself with a straight face. Who even does that?”

Jeongguk chuckled nervously. He had meant to compliment Taehyung, but the flipped camera must’ve made it seem like he complimented himself instead. How convenient.

“Why are we even friends, again?” Taehyung asked, acting irritated even though Jeongguk knew he wasn’t.

“Because you love me?” Jeongguk tried again.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, my dude.”

There it was again, Taehyung being loud and clear that Jeongguk was nothing more to him than a best friend. Jeongguk had known from the very start that he was interested in Taehyung, but he hadn’t realized how much he’d fallen for his best friend until many years later. It wasn’t a big moment of epiphany or anything like he saw in the movies. No bell ringing in the distance or the sky turning into a hundred shades of pink.

He and Taehyung were simply sitting together in the library one day, studying their asses off for an exam that wouldn’t even matter a year from then, when Jeongguk first noticed that Taehyung was fluffing his hair up with his fingertips. He’d never picked up on this habit of Taehyung’s before, but the other did it quite often that day, maybe even three to four times every minute. Back then, Taehyung often complained to Jeongguk that he hated his thin and ‘flat’ hair, and Jeongguk guessed that he must’ve become so worried about it that he unconsciously developed this habit of fluffing it up to make it look thicker.

That one, seemingly insignificant action was enough to make Jeongguk realize how much he loved and adored the person sitting in front of him. He finally understood what it felt like to want to care for someone for the rest of his life, and he also realized that no matter how much Taehyung hated his own appearance, Jeongguk would always see him as the most beautiful person in the world.

A few weeks later, Jeongguk planned to confess his feelings to Taehyung the next time that they were alone. But by the time that he managed to gather enough courage to do it, Taehyung had already started dating one of the seniors from their school.

“Won’t Hoseok hyung mind if he sees?”

“Why would he?” Taehyung posed, “If he can’t accept a simple picture of me and my bestest friend in the world then he doesn’t deserve my sweet ass.”

“Gross,” Jeongguk rolled his eyes, effortlessly hiding his pain.

Taehyung winked playfully at the camera, “Besides, Hoseok hyung is always so understanding. I don’t think he’s the type to get jealous so easily.”

“That’s good.” Jeongguk smiled softly, “I don’t want you and your boyfriend to have any problems.”

“We won’t.” Taehyung reassured, “He’s really good for me, this one. I feel like we might last a long, long time.”

Jeongguk hoped so too. He wasn’t the kind of selfish asshole who would wish for Taehyung to break up with his boyfriend. All he really ever wanted was to see Taehyung happy, and if Hoseok can make him feel that way, then Jeongguk will their relationship no matter how much it’ll hurt on his part.

Unfortunately, they didn’t last much longer. Hoseok shipped himself off on a full-ride scholarship to graduate school in Barcelona by the end of Spring, leaving Taehyung behind, alone and utterly devastated. He told Taehyung that he didn’t believe in long distance relationships, and decided to break theirs off the moment that his plane landed on European soil.

Jeongguk re the way that Taehyung stumbled into his dorm that night, drunk out of his mind and sobbing so hard that he struggled to catch his own breath. That was the first time that Jeongguk ever saw Taehyung so broken down like that. Like he had lost the will to live, and almost like he was unable to see himself ever becoming happy ever again. Up until this day, that particular night still remains in Jeongguk’s memories as one of the most painful nights of his life.

Before he knows it, Jeongguk is sobbing quietly in the corner of Taehyung’s basement, the memories that they used to share burning hot in his mind. As Taehyung continues to rummage through the boxes for anything that might remind him of the boy that he saw in his dreams, Jeongguk decides to walk over to the other, crouching down beside him. Jeongguk touches a palm to Taehyung’s cheek and watches as the other’s dark-brown eyes fall shut.

It’s what he has to do, Jeongguk tells himself over and over again. This has to be done.

Jeongguk can’t let Taehyung him. He can’t let Taehyung anything from that life at all. He deserves better than the pain that those memories will bring. He deserves to be happy.

Jeongguk blinks back hot tears that are pooling in his eyes as he uses the last of his strength and willpower to erase the memories of last night’s dream from Taehyung’s mind. After a minute or so, the honey blond opens his eyes again, slightly confused as to why he’s sitting alone on the basement floor of his house.

As Taehyung limps up the steps toward the door, Jeongguk falls onto his knees and picks up the vintage frame that used to have a picture of him and Taehyung standing together on the inside. He hugs the frame to his chest and sobs uncontrollably as he watches the love of his life continue on in a web of lies that he created with his very own hands.

-

That night, Taehyung dreams of gunshots. One, two, three, four. Each shot getting louder and louder as it comes closer to where he’s sitting. Where is he sitting? Taehyung takes a quick look at the emptiness around him, then looks down to where his hands are. They’re resting on top of an unlined notebook filled with drawings of weird graphs and charts that he didn’t understand. He flips through the book, looking through pages and pages of scribbled notes and sketches of faces that he didn’t recognize. Taehyung closes the book and looks up in front of him. To his surprise, there’s another boy sitting with him in that empty room, right in the seat in front of him. Something about the boy feels very familiar to Taehyung. Jet-black hair, broad shoulders, a single mole on the back side of his neck. At the sound of a fifth gunshot, the boy turns in his seat, terror flashing in his big, round eyes as he reaches over to grab at Taehyung.

“Tae, get down!” The boy screams as he wraps his arms around Taehyung’s waist.

Another gunshot rips through the silence of the air, this one so explosively loud that it startles a cry out of Taehyung’s lips. The black-haired boy suddenly falls limp against him, his arms that wrapped tightly around Taehyung’s waist just a second ago falling down to his sides. As the two of them fall backwards for the floor, Taehyung hears himself yelling,

“Jeongguk, no!!!”

A tunnel of soft clouds erupts around them, closing in on their bodies and pulling Taehyung away from the black-haired boy that he was just holding in between his arms. Before Taehyung can even utter out another cry, he finds himself back in the real world once more.

Taehyung wakes without a sound that morning, eyes opening slowly and breath calm. He sits up in his bed, staring blankly at the emptiness in his arms as his lips whisper a name that he doesn’t know.

“Jeongguk….Jeongguk….”

Teardrops fall, one after the other, onto the palm of Taehyung’s hands, making him even more confused than before. Kicking his blanket away, Taehyung rushes over to his closet mirror, stopping right by the spot where Jeongguk is standing. He looks at his own reflection, frowned expression and wide, teary eyes staring back in complete and utter bewilderment.

“Jeongguk….Jeongguk….Jeongguk….” Taehyung whispers the name over and over again.

“I’m right here, Tae.” Jeongguk speaks up, trying his hardest not to cry along with the other.

“Jeong….guk….” Taehyung repeats slowly, trying the sound of the name on his lips.

“I’m here, Tae. I’m here.” Jeongguk voices a little louder as he steps up to stand right beside Taehyung in front of the mirror.

But there is only one person staring back at them.

“Who are you….Jeongguk….” Taehyung ponders as he looks into the mirror, “why did you make me cry?”

“I’m….I’m me , Tae! I’m Jeongguk ,” Jeongguk cries desperately, raising his voice in hopes that Taehyung might hear him.

“Do I know you, Jeongguk?” Taehyung asks again.

“Yes, you do, Tae!” He screams at the top of his lungs, “You know me, I’m Jeongguk, and I don’t know why any of this is happening, but I just want it to fucking stop! Just stop, already!!!” Jeongguk grabs his hair between clenched fists, letting out a frustrated yell as he bawls his eyes out. The sadness and anger that had been pent up for far too long finally taking over him as he cries, “I’m just trying to protect you!!!”

He’s about to reach for Taehyung’s face when without warning, an invisible force grabs hold of his body, pulling him away from that little house in Daegu in a quick, whirlwind of grey clouds.

Jeongguk lands face first onto a pile of dirt and snow, the impact making his head spin and the cold air causing him to shiver involuntarily. His eyes are still stinging from crying, and his heart feels like it weighs a million tons.

“You’re losing it.” A familiar voice speaks up from behind.

Jeongguk cautiously turns his head around, only to groan in defeat at the sight of his ‘mentor’, Kim Namjoon, standing with his arms crossed tight and a concerned look on his face.

“What do you want, Namjoon hyung?” He asks curtly, getting up from the ground and wiping his tears away with the sleeve of his jacket.

“I saw what you were about to do, Guk. You were gonna give Taehyung back his memories.” Namjoon speaks calmly, but his eyes are inquisitive, like he’s testing to see what Jeongguk’s reply would be.

“Yeah, I was.” Jeongguk snaps, too tired to lie, “And if you hadn’t dragged me all the way out here, I probably would’ve done it.”

Namjoon shakes his head disapprovingly.

“Where the hell did you bring me, anyways?” Jeongguk asks as he takes moment to look at their surroundings.

They appear to be standing in an empty cemetery. Rows of headstones, some old and some new, standing silently in perfect lines that lead all the way up the snowy hills and across. An ocean of death that’s eerily quiet on the surface, but raging with a thousand currents of untold stories from all the different lives that are buried deep down under. Jeongguk visibly shivers.

“You’ve never been here?” Namjoon questions, slightly surprised. He walks over to the nearest headstone and brushes the snow away from its grey, marble surface, revealing the golden text hidden underneath.

Jeongguk inhales sharply at the sight of his own name.

He stomps toward Namjoon and fists the other’s shirt angrily, “What morbid fucking joke are you trying to pull here, hyung?”

Standing much taller than Jeongguk still, Namjoon looks down at the other without a single reaction on his face. He peels Jeongguk’s hands off of his shirt and shoves the younger away. “You’ve been making alterations to Taehyung’s memory for the past three months without fail, but you’re getting weak.”

Jeongguk scoffs, “ I’m weak? You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“He’s starting to , Guk. Taehyung’s dreamt of you two nights in a row now, despite your efforts.”

“Are you accusing me of not doing my job well, hyung?” Jeongguk retorts.

“No, I’m not accusing you of anything.” Namjoon replies, “And please try to calm yourself down, you look like an angry bunny right now and It’s hard for me to focus on the matter at hand.”

“An angry bunny?!” Jeongguk yells as he points a finger to the elder’s face, “well, y-you look like a….a bald eagle!”

Namjoon blinks once, like he’s really considering the younger’s words. Then, slowly, he reaches up to remove his white beanie from the top of his head, “I can’t believe I’m assigned to watch over a kid who’s forever frozen at twenty years old.” he mutters.

“You’re only three years older than me, hyung. Don’t be cocky.” Jeongguk bites.

“Yes, but I’ve been twenty-three for fifty-eight years, so shut it, kid.”

Jeongguk huffs in protest, but stays silent anyways.

“I called you here to tell you,” Namjoon starts, “that you finally made the right decision.”

“Wait, what?” Jeongguk asks, bewildered.

“You were about to give Taehyung back his memories, and as your mentor, I’ve been waiting for you to do that since day one.” Namjoon says, smirking slightly.

“B-But,” Jeongguk stutters, “you told me, you told me on the day that we met, that it’s my lifelong duty to protect Taehyung.”

“Yes, but I never told you to take his memories away.” Namjoon explains, “you decided to do that all on your own.”

“I don’t understand. How can I keep him safe if he re everything that happened?”

“By helping him move on from it, Jeongguk.”

Jeongguk looks up at Namjoon, still struggling to understand.

“You’ve become conflicted against everything that you’ve done for him. You don’t believe in it anymore, that’s why the memory slips are more frequent, and that’s why the dreams are becoming more vivid.” Namjoon continues as he puts a steady hand on Jeongguk’s shoulder, “You’re realizing that the life of lies that you created for Taehyung isn’t one that will ever bring him true happiness.”

Jeongguk nods slowly, “Yeah….yeah. You’re right.” He feels tears brimming at his eyes as he asks, “But he’s going to be completely crushed when he finds out the truth.” Jeongguk shakes his head at the thought, “What can I do, hyung? I don’t want to hurt him like that.”

“You just have to.” Namjoon replies, “It’s a part of life. No matter how much it’s going to hurt him today, he’s going to learn to move on from it as time goes by. All you can do, is to be there for him when he needs you most.”

Jeongguk swallows the lump in his throat as he speaks, “I can’t bear to see him hurt like that again, Namjoon hyung.”

“Then you’re just being selfish, Guk. If you truly love Taehyung like you say you do, you’ll give him a chance to finally let go of this horrible nightmare of his.”

Jeongguk only stares into the distance, wondering what Taehyung is up to right now.

“I trust that you’ll make the right decisions.” Namjoon concludes as he takes a step back from the younger, “you may go back now.”

With those last words, Jeongguk is once again pulled away from the ground, twirling into a tunnel of clouds that leads him all the way back to where his heart is.

——————-

Link to part 2: Part 2

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