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"Over here!" Hoseok called out, clapping his hands over his head. "YOONGI YOU LITTLE SHIT, PASS THE BALL-"

"FINE ASSHOLE, IT'S YOURS!" Yoongi shouted back, whipping the ball across the court to Hoseok, who barely caught it, propelled a few feet back by the force of the throw.

"WE'RE ON THE SAME TEAM YOU IDIOT!"

"THEN STOP YELLING AT ME!"

"THEN STOP TRYING TO TAKE MY HEAD OFF WITH YOUR STUPID PASSES!"

"THEN STOP ASKING ME TO PASS TO YOU!"

Jimin, meanwhile, stole the ball from where it was resting in Hoseok's lap, pushed twice, and shot. The ball sank straight into the net, bouncing twice before Jin picked it up. "Nice shot, Jimin, that was-"

"YOUR OWN TEAM IS STEALING FROM YOU! WHY THE HELL SHOULD I PASS TO YOU?"

"HE DIDN'T STEAL, HE BORROWED! BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT TEAMS DO – THEY SHARE, YOONGI!"

Jungkook, staying put in his position near the edge of the court away from the chaos, looked up at Namjoon. "Is this how basketball is supposed to work?"

"No, Jungkook, not really," Namjoon said with a sigh before blowing on his whistle without warning Jungkook, who winced at the high-pitched shriek. "HEY! WILL THE TWO OF YOU STOP ACTING LIKE IDIOTS AND JUST PASS THE BALL NORMALLY? YOU'RE A TEAM. ACT LIKE IT. AND THERE ARE OTHER PEOPLE ON THE TEAM THAN JUST YOU TWO. TRY PASSING TO SOMEONE ELSE FOR A CHANGE."

The two began bickering with each other once more, and Jungkook looked over to tell Namjoon than he didn't think that his announcement had really helped the situation, only the next thing that happened was he saw something flying at his face, and then everything went black.

--

"He's still bleeding...are we supposed to tilt his head up? Or down? I can't remember."

"Maybe he's dead."

"He's not dead, idiot. He just has a bloody nose because someone threw the basketball at his face."

"He should have been paying attention! How was I supposed to know he wasn't going to catch it?"

"Even if he tried, that was way too hard of a pass! I'm surprised his head is still attached to his neck!"

"Shut up, okay?! It wasn't like I was trying to injure him!"

Jungkook blinked his eyes open, the world spinning for the first few seconds and black spots floating in his vision.

"See? Told you he's alive," Hoseok said, crossing his arms decisively.

"Hey," Yoongi said, snapping in front of his face about two inches out from his nose, and Jungkook flinched. "How many fingers am I holding up?" he asked, opening his palm so all fingers were out.

"Five," Jungkook said, grimacing as a throbbing pain in his head began to kick in.

"Does the thumb count as a finger?" Hoseok asked. "I mean, isn't it technically four fingers and a thumb?"

"This isn't an intelligence test, you moron," Yoongi snapped. "He's fine. No permanent brain damage. Ergo, not my fault."

"It's still your fault even if he's not brain dead," Hoseok shot back.

"Will you two get out of the way?" Namjoon said impatiently, pulling Yoongi's wheelchair back to clear some space for himself. "How are you feeling, Jungkook?" he asked, crouching so his eyes were level with Jungkook's.

"Not great," Jungkook groaned, holding a hand up to his head and wincing. He looked down to find spots of blood on his jersey, and when he put his right hand up to his nose, it came away wet with a few dark red drops.

"Well, you did take a basketball to the face," Namjoon pointed out. "Maybe you should go home early. Can you call your mom to come pick you up?"

Jungkook shook his head, then stopped shaking his head after it aggravated the pounding in his skull. "She's working today, I was just going to take the bus home."

Jin, who was standing next to Namjoon, crossed his arms and glared at Yoongi. "You're the one who hit him. You have a car, don't you? You should give him a ride home."

"I can't," Yoongi immediately denied. "I'm driving my girlfriend home after practice."

"I drive Jin usually," Namjoon said, rubbing the back of his neck. "And the back of my car is full of student council stuff...sorry."

"I can ask my mom," Jimin volunteered, rolling over to his backpack and fishing his phone out of one of the pockets.

"Holy shit, is that a flip phone?" Yoongi began before Jimin gestured at him to shut up and mind his own business with the use of one particular finger.

"Hi Mom, yeah, we're at practice...uh uh...actually, would you mind coming early? One of our team members doesn't have a ride home, and he isn't feeling well...Yeah, that would be great. Thank you," he said, hanging up and dropping the phone in the open pocket of his backpack. "She'll be here in ten minutes," he called out to Jungkook while he wheeled himself closer. "Until then, no one hand Yoongi the basketball."

--

"I'm warning you now that she talks a lot" was Jimin's only remark as a silver minivan pulled up to the school's front sidewalk.

"You must be Jungkook!" the woman who could only be Jimin's mom exclaimed as she came around the car. She looked too youthful to be a mom, a bright orange headband looping between her messy curls and a pair of red-rimmed glasses sitting a little too far down on her nose. "Jimin has told me so much about the team-" she continued on while she opened the passenger door and wheeled Jimin over, bending down for a second to lock the brakes on his wheelchair. She removed Jimin's feet from the footrests, which she folded off to the sides before removing, and stood back up with a bright smile. "-but he didn't tell me that his teammates were such handsome young boys! Your mom must be so proud of you." Jungkook blushed and kept his eyes on his shoes, nudging the toe of one against the heel of the other.

"I'm so glad the school is doing this," she rambled on as she slipped her arms under Jimin's, standing up with him and backing up until she was against the car door. She helped him into the passenger seat, making sure he didn't hit his head and arranging his legs comfortably in front of him. "It's so nice-"

"I've got the seatbelt, Mom," Jimin said as her hands fussed over the strap.

Jungkook felt odd watching. Like it was something he wasn't supposed to see. It was such an open display of vulnerability that Jungkook had a hard time standing still, wanting instead to pace out his nervous energy, but he felt that would be weird. But he'd never seen someone carried into a car before. He supposed it wasn't that big of a deal, but over the course of several practices, he'd sort of forgotten that Jimin wasn't just like him. This was a reminder.

He wondered if the mother in the court room would have to do the same thing for her broken son.

His stomach turned painfully, and his shoulders hunched inward as he tried to hold his lunch down. By the time he looked up, the wheelchair was gone, likely folded up and placed in the trunk of the car, and Jimin's car door was closed.

"Ready to head home? Oh, you look positively sick, you poor thing. Come on, let's get you in the car and on your way," she said, opening the car door and reaching for his arm. Jungkook stiffened, remembering the way she had helped her son into the car, and he mumbled a quick "Thank you," before sliding into the seat, avoiding her touch. She shut the door behind him, not noticing his state or otherwise confusing it for sickness as she rounded the car and popped back into the driver's seat. "Can you give me your address, Jungkook? I'll punch it into my GPS here. We've lived here for years now but I'm still awful with directions, haha."

Jungkook told her his address, trying to speak loudly enough so she didn't have to ask him to repeat himself, and then they were on their way.


-updated 05/28/20 (mm/dd/yy)-

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