The door opened slower this time. Not slamming. Not angry. Just… tired. Heavy in a way that didn’t come from muscles but from something deeper—something older than a thirteen-year-old should ever have to carry.

Namjoon looked up from the floor, where he was sorting through mail and scattered homework papers at the coffee table. He caught the shape of Jun first in the reflection on the glass. Hoodie up. Shoulders slouched. One pant leg torn at the knee, revealing an ugly scrape, dried blood clinging to the edges.

But it was his face that said it all. That quiet, far-off look. The kind that came after holding everything in too long.

Namjoon didn’t stand. He didn’t crowd. He just opened one arm.

Jun dropped his bag, walked across the room, and sank beside him on the floor without a word. Namjoon gathered him close, tucking his son under his arm like Jun had always belonged there.

A few minutes passed like that. No talking. Just the soft sound of paper shifting and Namjoon’s steady breathing.

Then the kitchen door creaked open and Jin stepped out, apron tied over his waist, a smudge of flour on his cheek. He paused when he saw them, brow furrowing. He set down the towel he was holding and crouched behind Jun, running a gentle hand down the boy’s back.

"Hey, my heart," Jin murmured, eyes on the scuffed knee. "That looks like it hurts."

Jun gave the smallest shrug.

"It’s okay if it hurts," Jin added softly. "Even if it’s just your feelings."

Taehyung walked in next, arms full of laundry. The second he spotted them, he dropped the basket without a second thought. His face softened as he sat down on Jun’s other side, his long fingers brushing hair out of Jun’s face.

"You don’t have to talk yet," Taehyung said. "But just so you know—we're all staying right here. No one’s going anywhere."

Yoongi wandered in last, stretching, yawning, already in house slippers and his usual oversized hoodie. He looked like he’d just woken up from a nap. But the second he saw Jun on the floor between his husbands, that soft tiredness vanished.

He moved slowly, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of Jun. His voice came out quieter than the others, but it hit just as deep.

"You don’t need to carry it alone, Jun," Yoongi said. "Whatever it is. Whatever they said. It’s not yours to hold forever."

Jun didn’t say anything.

But his eyes welled up—quiet, fast, unexpected. The kind that come when you’re finally safe enough to fall apart. He tried to rub them away quickly, but Namjoon was already pulling him closer, and Taehyung was wrapping an arm around his legs, and Jin was kissing the crown of his head, whispering, You’re safe. You’re safe. You’re safe.

The door opened again, and Jungkook stepped in, headphones still around his neck, hoodie damp with sweat. His eyes found Jun instantly.

"Shit," he breathed, voice cracking as he dropped his gym bag and rushed over.

Jun looked up just long enough for Jungkook to see the tears in his eyes before he curled into himself again, but Jungkook was already wrapping his arms around him from behind, holding him like something fragile. Like something precious.

"You don’t have to explain," he whispered. "I’m proud of you. Just for being here."

Then came Hoseok, breeze following him in, cheeks pink from biking home. He stopped mid-laugh when he saw the quiet cluster of them on the floor. The joy in his face softened, reshaped into something fierce and loving. He didn’t ask a single thing. Just dropped to his knees and pressed a kiss to Jun’s shoulder.

Jimin was last, bag still slung across his chest, paint on his fingers. He said nothing. Just knelt beside Jun and rested his forehead against his, breathing with him. In. Out. In. Out.

Namjoon finally broke the silence.

"You don’t have to be strong right now, Junie. That’s what we’re here for."

And with all of them surrounding him, hearts syncing to his rhythm, Jun whispered through trembling lips

"I didn’t know where else to go."

And with that, Jun finally let go—sobbing quietly, held by every hand that had raised him.