(Jungkook's POV)

I had never seen Taehyung look that way before. Such uncontrollable emotion. Something sparked in him when I was pushed to the ground. Maybe it's because his father did the same thing to him, maybe it was all the pent up anger against him, maybe it was because of me, whatever it was...was fueling his rage.

Taehyung had pushed him into the wall, his hands around his neck. His fathers face was turning red as his feet were barely touching the ground.

"You don't touch him."

"Taehyung." I didn't want him to kill the man.

"You don't ever touch him."

"Taehyung!" The older man was clawing at Taehyung's fingers, the oxygen leaving his body.

"Say whatever you want, but you don't lay hands on anyone ever again. I won't let you do what you did to me, to anyone else. You understand me?"

The man struggled to nod, Taehyung released him and he fell to the ground. Coughing loudly as Taehyung backed away.

"What's going on here?" My mothers soft voice didn't fit into the chaotic scene. I turned to her, tears streaming down my face as she took everything in.

"T-they attacked me!" Taehyung's father managed to spit out as my eyes widened. "Tell them to leave!" He looked scared as he backed into the wall. He knocked over my lamp in the process. He's faking, she couldn't possibly believe him- "the faggots!"

The look on her face said otherwise. She ran to the fallen man, looking back at us with slight fear/disgust in her eyes. No, this isn't happening, no.

"Mom." I called, why was she holding him, I'm her son. She didn't believe him, she couldn't possibly. She knows me.

"Leave, please." She turned back to her husband as he coughed repeatedly, the bruises on his neck becoming purple.

"Mom-" I stood up in attempts to reach her when he grabbed the thing nearest to him. My lamp, and flung it at my head. It barely missed me as Taehyung put a protective arm in front of me.

"Get out! You monsters!" He yelled, as my mother didn't even turn to look at me.

Taehyung took my hand as I made no move to leave. I was frozen. He pulled me out, before the man could throw something else at me. It was a blur after that. Taehyung rushing me out of the house, getting in his car. Asking me if I'm alright, holding me because he knew I wasn't. Asking if he should call Hoseok. Taking me to his house and trying to get me to talk. But through it all I sat, emotionless.

I wanted to yell, I was angry. I wanted to cry, I was inconsolable. Taehyung tried to console me, after all he knew how it felt, it happened to him. Worse happened to him, but I couldn't listen.

I didn't even care about my step-dad. How he reacted or what he did, it was all predictable. But my mom, she immediately went to his side instead of mine. Looked at me with disgust, instead of him. She loved Taehyung, she knew he was gay. So why did she look at me like that? What just happened? And why do I feel like my world is crashing down...

(Hoseok's POV)

I rang the doorbell, which was a struggle considering how many papers were in my hands. I waited for him to come to the door as I tried not to think the worst of the situation.

The door opened. Taehyung stood in a gray T-shirt and black shorts. He looked exhausted as he stepped out of the way to let me in. His hair was a mess, had he not slept in the last week or something?

"Jungkook told me to-"

"I texted you from his phone." He closed the door behind me, I turned to look at him, confused.

"Is everything alright? Is he actually sick?"

"No and...not really?" He led me to the living room, gesturing for me to sit down. I placed all of Jungkook's missed class work and homework on the couch beside me. I got a text from Jungkook, which was Taehyung, saying he was sick and that I should come over after school. He had missed 3 days of school, it was now Saturday. I went to his house but at the sight of me his mom slammed the door.

"So what's actually going on-"

"Long or short version?"

"Short?"

"Jungkook got kicked out of his house and now he won't leave my room or even talk or eat or move farther than the beds edge."

"What?!" My eyes widened as he pushed his fingers through his hair in distress. "You need to give me the long version."

Taehyung explained what happened, he didn't seem really focused. He kept glancing at the steps, visibly worried about Jungkook. It took me a minute to even process what happened.

"Why would his mom do that?! She loves him, and since when was she homophobic?"

"I don't think she is." He spoke making me look up at him. "My father is very manipulative, I don't know what he did but that's really not like her. She loves Jungkook, I know it." Taehyung seemed to have been thinking about it a lot. "But that's not important right now, I can't get Jungkook to even talk! And he's not even crying or angry. He just lays there, emotionless."

"Why didn't you call me earlier!" I stood up quickly.

"I didn't know what to do! I didn't know if he just needed time, or something else."

My eyes softened slightly at his distressed state. He obviously hadn't slept at all.

"Take me to him."

When we got the room, Taehyung opened the door. The only light was from the hallway, seeping into the dark room. The curtains closed, lights off. I glanced at Taehyung who only bit his lip. My hand grazed over the wall till I found the light switch.

As soon as it flicked on my eyes landed on Jungkook who buried himself in the blankets. Taehyung stood in the doorway while I walked over to the bed. A bowl of noodles sitting untouched on the dresser.

(Taehyung's POV, 3 days ago)

"Please just eat?" I asked softly, brushing his hair out of his face. He shook his head, sinking further into the blankets. He hadn't spoke once. The only time he moved was to go to the bathroom, but even then he looked like a zombie. It's like he shut himself down to avoid feeling any pain.

I was about to leave to go sleep in another room, maybe he wanted to be alone. After all, this was all my fault. If I had just left earlier. Or maybe if I hadn't had attacked my father...Jungkook's mom maybe wouldn't have looked at him the way she did. I felt a tug on my sleeve and looked down at his hand. He still wasn't looking at me.

He wasn't going to talk, that was obviously. But he didn't want to be alone either? So I laid beside him in the bed, running my hands through his hair as he buried his face in my chest.

I hated to see him cry, but I kind of wish he would. Sadness, I know how to deal with sadness. I wish he would yell. Anger, I know how to work through anger.

But numbness, nothingness, I don't know how to help that.