yoongi was heading home from namjoon's house when he heard someone vomiting in an alleyway.

he looked, only to see taehyung, kim taehyung, hunched over on all fours, heaving up nothing. he dry heaved, over and over again, before coughing harshly and collapsing in on himself. "fuck," he muttered, gasping. "fucking hell."

"rough night?"

yoongi approached him slowly and crouched down.

"what? you gonna take advantage of the situation and beat the shit out of me?" taehyung scoffed. "go ahead. kill me, for all i care. i'd rather be dead right now. just don't get caught or you won't be the fucking good guy anymore."

"you're the villain, i'd be just fine," yoongi said. "but i don't want to kill you when it wouldn't be a fair fight. the fuck happened?"

taehyung then looked up to face yoongi, the dimly lit alleyway doing little to show the state of his face, but yoongi saw enough. blood was trickling down his cheek from his scalp, and nasty bruises lay on his cheek and jaw.

"who the fuck did you fight? god, they did a real number on your sorry ass."

"my dad, motherfucker. i fought my dad. though it was more of a beating than a fight considering the fact that i only fought with words."

he coughed again, falling forwards.

"i think i might die tonight," taehyung said. "don't call anyone. don't call 911. can't afford getting thrown into the system and can't afford getting saved. just let me die."

yoongi contemplated for a moment. honestly, he'd be fine leaving the boy to die if that wasn't what he wanted, but if taehyung wanted to die, no shot yoongi was letting him. he wouldn't give him the satisfaction of leaving the earth.

"fuck you." yoongi sighed. "i'm taking you home."

* * *

yoongi practically carried taehyung to his apartment, the lanky boy leaning heavily against him and groaning in pain.

by the time he reached his apartment complex, the boy had actually passed out cold.

he put taehyung on his bed, taking a moment to catch his breath. he looked at taehyung, eyes closed and expression looking somewhat at peace for once, all the while grimacing in pain every few seconds.

"dumbass. the fuck did you do?"

yoongi went to lift up his shirt, but felt a cold hand stop him.

"no."

"why not?"

taehyung had stirred awake, half lidded eyes filled with a shade of darkness that yoongi had previously never seen.

"please," taehyung murmured. "you don't want to see this shit."

"i need to see how bad it is. if anything is actually life threatening, i'm taking you to the hospital."

taehyung was breathing heavily, the hand he had placed on yoongi's arm shaking ever so slightly.

"please. don't."

yoongi then took it upon himself to lift taehyung's sleeve. the boy's eyes widened in surprise, his other hand immediately pulling the sleeve back down, quickly, but not quickly enough for yoongi to ignore the bruises.

"your dad sounds like a dick," yoongi said. "why do you bother living with him?" he didn't wait for an answer, shoving away taehyung's hand and lifting his shirt to see another array of dark bruises laying on his stomach. "you think anything's broken?" yoongi asked.

taehyung bit his lip and shrugged. "not sure. ribs might be, but it's happened before. it'll heal."

yoongi nodded. "i'll get some ice. does anything need to be bandaged?"

"yeah, but... i can do it myself if you bring the bandages."

yoongi shot him a look of disapproval and motioned for him to sit up. taehyung did, grimacing when everything hurt tenfold more, and yoongi took his shirt off completely, scowling.

"you look like shit," he said. "is that fucking glass?"

"just leave it. i'll bandage it myself."

"fuck no. wait here, i'll go get some shit."

taehyung didn't have time to protest.

he was surprisingly cooperative as yoongi tended to his wounds, only wincing as he removed shards of glass and disinfected cuts.

"you piss me off," taehyung muttered.

yoongi side eyed him. "it's mutual, brat."

"i didn't want anyone to see this," taehyung said. "like, ever. this is fucking humiliating."

yoongi sighed, making soft eye contact with taehyung. the boy's eyes were glazed over, dark and unfeeling. he looked closely at taehyung's face for the first time, counting two gashes and two bruises. he could see symmetry in the hollowed cheeks and empty eyes, symmetry in the sadness that cast shadows over his face.

"if you need help, just fucking ask for it instead of picking fights with people. sleep. you look like you need it."

* * *

when taehyung woke up in the morning and walked into the kitchen, he looked disheveled and exhausted, bloodshot eyes staring at yoongi in confusion when he saw hoseok at the kitchen table.

"what the fuck?"

"he came this morning to make breakfast," yoongi said. "sit down and eat. hoseok said you can't leave until you eat."

yoongi had called hoseok the second he woke up, telling him that he had picked up a battered taehyung from the street and let him sleep on his couch. hoseok at been at his door within minutes, insisting that he makes breakfast for both of them.

he had too good of a heart for his own good. yoongi hated how good hoseok was.

taehyung grinned. "gladly."

taehyung all but inhaled the food, yoongi and hoseok watching silently. when he finally slowed down to drink some water, yoongi spoke up.

"fucking pig," he said. "mind slowing down?"

"do you usually eat this much? where does the food go?" hoseok took a timid bite. "i- are you starved?"

"yes, actually," taehyung said, grabbing another pancake and cutting into it. "haven't eaten in fucking days. haven't had a full meal in way fucking longer."

hoseok looked concerned, narrowing his eyes and glancing at yoongi.

yoongi hated to admit it, but he was suddenly concerned - and confused - too.

"why?" yoongi asked.

taehyung chewed thoroughly, setting down his fork to wipe his lips. "i'm broke," he replied. "i haven't had enough money."

"thought you worked a job?"

"that paycheck went to paying rent." he rolled his eyes, a look of disdain filling his gaze. "incompetent dad doesn't pay it."

suddenly, taehyung's anger felt familiar, and it felt right. yoongi could recall being much the same way at one point: angry at the life he was given, angry at his parents, angry at the world. he had been a walking time bomb, picking fights with whoever he could just because it gave him a taste of power for once. he had always felt so powerless under his parents' words.

he dismissed the thought.

"we should go now," yoongi said. "school starts in thirty."