Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Taehyung hadn’t slept properly in days.

His job was difficult enough as a journalist. Their particular newspaper, Bulletproof Chronicle, took it a step further and gained some infamy as one that focused on government and police cover-ups. He knew when he signed up that it was entirely possible that he would end up at the bottom of a river somewhere, with nobody aware of his death other than his coworkers' small hopes that he was alive despite going missing. What he didn’t prepare for was his boyfriend going missing instead.

Ever since his partner Jungkook disappeared he threw himself into work, his way of denying what he felt, pretending as if nothing was wrong. Even though he went home each day, he spent more and more time at his cubicle, until the grey walls and endless clicking of keys in his workplace became more familiar to him than his own apartment.

He could barely keep his eyes open, but forced himself to look at the stack of papers in front of him. The more he stared, the more the words seemed like squiggles, and the more the squiggles seemed like the lines of Jungkook’s face. He blinked a few times and stared at his hands shakily, only stopping when he realized that his eyes were burning, probably bloodshot, and rubbed them. Even though it just made it worse, he went ahead and downed another cup of coffee, his miracle fix to let him work just a little bit more.

He leafed through the pile and pulled out the first story that seemed interesting to him. He read with rapt attention about the disappearance of several pizza delivery boys, every single one of them last seen carrying a pizza to the same address. It was a European style house located just outside the cityscape of Seoul, the closest thing you could get to the suburbs while still in reasonable distance to the urban section. Nobody could get a definite date of construction, but it was clear that it was there for a long time, enough for rumors of a haunting to surface from other residents. He could hear his name being called but chalked it off to him hearing things and stubbornly read on.

The property was recently bought by socialite and owner of Joy Inc., Park Soo-young, better known as ‘Joy’. Several other figures who have never been linked back to her were reported to not only have gone into the house but have apparently taken residence within, leaving her and the figures as the prime suspects of the disappearances. Despite the evidence against them, the police denied any connection. It was one of the most obvious cover-ups he ever saw.

“Taehyung!”

He dropped the paper in alarm and stared at the person who just shouted his name, who ended up being his boss, Namjoon. He bowed his head and stuttered out a few hurried apologies before trying to collect himself, straightening his posture, looking attentive as possible. From Namjoon’s displeased expression he could tell that it wasn’t working almost immediately.

“You need to go home. You look horrible.”

“Got it, got it.” He finally allowed himself a yawn, mostly faked, since the caffeine was still running through his system. “See you tomorrow. I think I’ve got something worth investigating.”

“Don’t come in tomorrow, either.”

“Are you firing me?”

“No. Look, we appreciate what you’ve been doing recently, but this amount of work isn’t healthy for you. You need to go home and take a few days off.”

“I can still do it. I really think that this is all that I need to just finish this round and then I’ll-”

A voice piped up from the cubicle next to his, drawing both his and Namjoon’s attention. It was Yoongi, who, for once, looked as concerned as the others. “He’s right, you know. You look like shit. Give it a rest and let us have at the stories.”

“You too?” He shook his head and sighed. “I’m fine.”

“Your hands are shaking. Your eyes are red. Your hair’s a mess. Go get some sleep.”

He gave a heavy sigh and got up, grabbing all of the papers on the stack and putting it in his briefcase, taking care to put the paper about the delivery boy incident on the top before taking his leave. As soon as he got home he made a beeline for the bed and fell asleep even as the caffeine in his system made his veins throb; he was just too tired to do anything of worth. The very next day he nearly forgot all about the events of the last day and was about to start preparing for work when he took one glance at the briefcase he set right on the bedside counter.

“Right.” He opened the briefcase, grabbed the correct paper, and took a quick look at it. When he looked at the address properly his heart seized with momentary terror as he realized that it was the same neighborhood his Jungkook went to for an unrelated investigation. It was entirely possible he wasn’t there, but his instincts tended to be correct, and every fiber of his being was telling him that his boyfriend got mixed up with these girls. This wasn’t about work anymore, really, this was about finding Jungkook using any means possible. He fired up his laptop and got to researching, digging and asking around about those involved with the property. Some of the figures like Joy and Kim Yerim were very easy to crack since they were very prominent figures, but others like Kang Seulgi and 'Irene' had next to no information. The latter two gave him the most trouble since the Internet gave no mention of them, so he had to rely on his sources to give what they knew, which was little even then.

Joy Park was the owner of Joy Inc., a chaebol that recently emerged practically out of the blue. She was known for quite some time simply as the daughter of a prominent businessman, but after his death she inherited his company, quickly rebranded and expanded at an alarming rate. Due to this she has often been accused of shady business practices, particularly concerning the buying out and assimilation of many other small businesses, but the company has always maintained that its practices were completely legal. Since there was no concrete evidence against them, the company only grew over the years and entered multinational territory, several of their products becoming recognized household names. On top of her incredible business sense and high-paced and expensive living style, she singled herself out as eccentric for her tendency to buy subpar properties. Because of this her purchase of the property outside of Seoul was noticed but was brushed off easily. It was perfectly reasonable for her to get rid of unsavory ties to her company, but what threw most people off was the fact that the disappearances were linked solely by the victims' shared occupation of pizza boy. There was no reason for her to have such low level targets. The media was far more concerned with rumors of an upcoming marriage to another business owner, Yook Sung-jae.

Kim Yerim, nickname Yeri, was far lower down on the scale, being the owner of a small gun shop, but she ran a blog until just recently, posting controversial views on gun control and criticizing people who called for it, often in video form and laden with expletives. Other videos she had on her page were where she gained infamy for numerous visits to gun shows and gun ranges, demonstrating incredible accuracy with weapons she just got her hands on. Among the posts bashing people and gun demonstrations were her aspirations, which were more or less to upsize her gun shop to a full blown weapons handling company. She wasn’t very interested in making vehicles, but she was all for experimenting with explosives from grenades to missiles alongside her usual obsession. Due to her very vocal nature she managed to get something of a cult following in the gun-related world, not only for her opinions and finesse with weapons, but for the fact that she looked like just another dainty girl at only 18.

Son Seung-wan, A.K.A. Wendy, was a doctor in charge of a small pharmacy, one of the few businesses in the area that wasn’t assimilated by Joy Inc. Identified early on as incredibly intelligent, she studied several medical courses abroad and finished at only the age of 20. She garnered a large fortune as a high profile neurosurgeon in Canada before moving back to South Korea and opening up the pharmacy. Nobody really knew why she moved back considering her high income potential abroad, but there were rumors circulating that she was hired as Joy’s personal doctor and the pharmacy was nothing but a cover-up for something illegal, or at the very least an excuse for her to stick around without directly connecting her to Joy. There was a temporary buzz as people following her saw the pictures of her with Joy, but they died down soon after.

Kang Seulgi didn’t have much of a reputation. Her work as a masseuse had nothing to write home about and there was barely anything on her work as a backup dancer. It was odd for a masseuse to dance with idols erratically throughout the years, but she did it anyway. He was almost tempted to go to her place of work and ask about her, but considering the reports it was likely she wasn’t even near the spa, and even then it was unlikely her coworkers would say anything about her. The headache he gained while looking for her information was nothing compared to the next person.

The last member was Irene. That was it. No real name, no jobs, no information about who she was or why she was even in the area. Almost all of his sources despite their connections were dumbfounded as to who she was. From the picture she could have passed for a model or even an idol, but there was nothing. It was clean. Admittedly, too clean. Her connections were presumably strong if she could wipe out her records like that.

Looking through all of the member’s profiles, though, he realized that he didn’t see much rhyme or reason for any of them to be there together specifically, aside from just Joy and Wendy. Even if he gave Seulgi the benefit of the doubt and assumed she gave home service (which her company’s website did not include), there was the complete wildcard Irene and the gun maniac Yeri. It didn’t really add up. He gave himself a little break to eat something, but all throughout the meal he was trying to think of what could possibly link them together.

He didn’t come to any sort of reasonable conclusion, but used that information anyway as a springboard to convince himself to do something incredibly reckless. He decided that the only way for him to get anything concrete was to go out there himself and see what he could find out about the activities of the girls inside. He was glad that he was given time off from work because he knew that if any of his coworkers knew what neighborhood he was in, they’d pull him out. He hated how his coworkers knew how badly Jungkook’s disappearance affected him, even though they were completely right. There was just an irrational side of him that appeared every time he remembered Jungkook’s gorgeous face. He had to have him back. No matter what.

For the next few days he made it a habit to stroll around the neighborhood, taking especially long when he could see the house in question. The property was massive, the entire plot capable of encapsulating 6 nearby houses without any problems. Unlike the urban cityscape of Seoul, with high gray buildings and barely any space, the plot itself was decidedly more Western; it had its own perfectly trimmed lawn, decorated with flowering trees off to the side and towering palm trees that grew high enough to obscure some of the roof. It was all wood, the top two levels painted white and accented with the natural brown of the wood supports, while the ground level was a rich dark wood, probably some expensive species he couldn’t even begin to name. He wasn’t sure if the top level was a complete floor or just an attic, but he figured there or the basement would be an ideal place for hiding something- or someone. Unfortunately, due to the plots' extensive size and openness it was impossible to plant the cameras in the daylight, so he only returned under the cover of the nighttime darkness.

Although the cameras were a step in the right direction, there was no place to set them that allowed him to look directly inside the house without stepping onto the property itself, something he didn’t dare to do. The girls barely went out of the house and for a few moments he could swear Irene in particular could see the cameras he hid, but she never acknowledged them, which he took as dodging a bullet. If she noticed it was entirely possible for them to move away and have all of his scouting go to waste. Within days of setting up he watched as another pizza car pulled up. The delivery boy struck him as particularly cute, to the point of being undeserving of having a job as low as that. He had an oval-like face and features he could only describe as unique, along with light blond hair that perfectly matched him. He could only vaguely make out the nametag he had on, though he could definitely read ‘Ji’. He watched as this Ji person knocked on the door and was invited in like countless other boys and, after 30 minutes, presumed him to be either dead or kidnapped.

Something about actually watching somebody walk to their doom and doing nothing about it struck a nerve even though he knew that it would take too long to reach there even if he went right at that moment. He had to do something and fast, before everybody realized what he was doing and stopped him, before it was too late for Ji, and most importantly, before it was too late for Jungkook. The very next day he fired off a quick email to Namjoon about what he was planning to do, ensuring that he was at the very least not going to end up forgotten if he did end up dead. It took a little persuasion, but he was able to convince his female friend that he needed to use her uniform, a bit shocked that it actually fit him quite well. He then went out and bought a pizza to go, went back and changed and finally arrived at the house.

Of all the bad ideas he had, this was definitely going to be the worst one. One look at the imposing house in spite- or because of- it being obviously lit from the inside made him tremble. He almost took right off and left that godforsaken house, but he couldn’t just leave knowing that both Jungkook and Ji could still be alive and awaiting rescue within there. With shaky hands he came out of his car and went up the stairs, freezing on the spot again when he actually reached the door. He took several deep breaths and put on a lopsided smile as he rapped his knuckles on the door twice in quick succession.

It only took a few moments for the door to open but it felt like an eternity to Taehyung. He instantly recognized the person who answered the door as the gun expert Yeri even though she had a completely different hairstyle. She usually had her hair long and blond, but here it was brown, and in a bob. Contrary to her usual style, which was bright and vibrant, she was wearing a short black dress and high heels. What wasn’t different was her voice and personality, however, gruff in all respects. She looked at him with something more like annoyance rather than actual displeasure or surprise.  “We didn’t order a pizza.”

He blinked a few times and took a quick look at the receipt he had with him. “Ah, damnit. I think I just made my last mistake.” He breathed a heavy sigh, looking away for a bit. “I keep messing up the address. I’m no good with directions and they said if I messed it up one more time I’m fired.” When he looked back toward the house he nearly jumped when he realized that there was someone on the stairs staring at him from behind Yeri, Seulgi.

Yeri grabbed his attention with a small smile even before she began to talk. “Well, are you saying you’ll be giving us the pizza for free?”

“Geez, I don’t know. My boss will chew me out even more if I come back late.”

Seulgi spoke up, this time with her own take. He took the quick time to ogle her, especially her dark hair with bangs and light blue shimmery dress, before focusing right back on her words. Might as well try to see what they were like even before they spoke. “You’re already getting fired, right? Tell you what. How about you spend the night with us? That sound good to you?”

His good natured laugh hid the fact that his heart was beating hard enough to mask all of the sounds while the panic center in his brain was trying to get him to throw the pizza in their face and run away then and there. But he pushed on nonetheless, tipping his hat and shrugging. “If you ask that nicely, I’ll go on ahead.”

Yeri took the box away from him and started walking off to the left into what was obviously the dining room while Seulgi started ascending the stairs. He kept glancing between Yeri and Seulgi, so preoccupied with the two of them that he only just started turning when he heard footsteps behind him. There was a horrible cracking noise that came from everywhere and there was this odd feeling going down the back of his neck. It was like he hadn’t moved at all, the entire world just shifted around him. The ceiling was suddenly above him and the ground was behind him right where the air was supposed to be. Breathing was a challenge, almost like he was breathing in soup instead of air, but he couldn’t think of anything to do other than lie there and let his senses correct themselves. The girl who took the box from him was above him now, looking down at him and saying… words. He tried to listen in, but all he heard was ringing. Very annoying ringing. His first instinct was to tap his ears with his hands, but he could barely feel his hands and they pretty much just flopped around. After a few more moments his senses did correct themselves; he could move, he could hear, but most pertinently he could feel.

And he felt pain. Throbbing pain right from the back of his head.

Somebody was in the middle of speaking and he struggled to locate them, but when he did he could actually recognize them, which was a small bit of mercy even when he was drowning in pain. It was Irene, the wildcard, holding a baseball bat. Her rainbow dress was even brighter and shinier than Seulgi’s and it hurt to look at it, so he concentrated on her face, his drooping eyelids be damned. “…set up the cameras. I’m sure of it. Why else would he come in with a uniform from the wrong company, or for that matter, when we didn’t call at all?”

“Are we going to keep him?” Seulgi had already gone up and gotten what she needed, which happened to be huge leather gloves and a heavy apron that looked eerily like a butcher’s. She wore them on top of her blue dress and he didn’t know what was more horrifying, the fact that she had the equipment on in the first place, or the fact that she had them on without a care for what was underneath. “We just got a fresh one.”

“Two in a row?” That came from Yeri, who was still looking down on him, though now she was prodding against him with her shoe. Even though they were little movements, his head felt like it was split open and pain rocked throughout his entire body. He gave a pitiful groan in response, which seemed to provoke Yeri into prodding him all the more. “Chances like this don’t happen very often. I’m glad we didn’t kill him. You’ll have to work a little more, Seulgi, but it’ll be even better if we get two of what we’re looking for. And besides, this means you get to make mistakes.”

“I don’t make mistakes. But I’m happy with a bigger workload. It keeps me busy while you all get to do what you want.” Seulgi made her way over to his side, giving him a brief respite from Yeri’s poking. “We’ll have Wendy check him out later. Give me a hand. If he’s capable of surviving this he should be good enough to train. If not… well, another body to dispose of.”

Seulgi took a hold of his right leg while Irene grabbed his other. “Call me if you need anything special.” Yeri went off gleefully to the dining room. The girls that had their hands on his legs nodded to eachother and started dragging him. They were deceptively strong because they seemed to have no trouble in doing so. He tried his best to map the house’s interior, even the higher floors from what he could see from the gap in the stairs, but that plan went completely awry when the girls reached a set of stairs that led downwards.

His head exploded in a million different places, all bursts of white light that blinded him and made his body flail without his consent. They paused as his head hit the first step, as if to savor his scream, but they didn’t turn around to check on him at all. His hands went straight to his head as he shivered, tears escaping his tightly clenched eyes. He regretted every second since he came into this house, and at this point he was willing to abandon everything just to get out. But he was too weak and there was no one around to help him. And so the girls continued.

At first it was torturously slow and he could tell that his torturers wanted to emphasize each and every step. By the 5th step he was already crying openly, pleading, begging, willing to strip away the precious layers of dignity that he used to have just to make it stop. It was around that time that they sped up, avoiding some of the steps in their haste but still compounding the pain in a way that Taehyung could swear would never be worse. He lost consciousness before he reached the bottom of the stairs, whimpering in delirious happiness that he didn’t have to endure it any longer.

Frigid water brought him right back into the world of the conscious.

Everything ached. Thanks to the water now he was aching and freezing as well. He could tell immediately that his shirt and hat were gone, leaving him topless, but his pants were untouched for some strange reason. Because his head was still hanging down his hair fell right onto his face and dripped water, each drop another little annoyance to add to the screaming mess that was the back of his head. He tried futilely to wipe his hair away from his face but only succeeded in making his wrists dig into the metal cuffs they were trapped in. He tried moving his feet and got similar results.

Gently raising his head and trying not to aggravate the injury, he took in the surroundings as best he could. He was quite obviously chained to the wall, but underneath his feet were grates instead of solid floor, presumably to catch whatever fluid dripped from him throughout his stay. The rest of the floor was white tile not dissimilar to a hospital’s, with the difference that there were red-brown splatters near the edges at the grates, becoming progressively cleaner and more immaculate toward the center of the room. There was a heavy metal door off to his left next to the flight of stairs he was dragged down. He noticed someone standing at the center and saw Wendy tying her red-grey hair into a ponytail, lab coat already on, looking over a cart full of medical equipment. He noticed movement out of the corner of his eye and turned his head to the right with a wince. He couldn’t help but gasp as he saw Ji in the same predicament that he was in, topless and bound, though the other was blindfolded.

Wendy took immediate notice to his gasp and gave a big smile as she snapped some gloves on. She wheeled the cart over to him and started waving her hand over her instruments, as if she were randomly choosing what she wanted to use first. “Don’t worry. I’m not here to kill you. I’m actually here to keep you alive.”

He gave a shuddering cry and felt tears pricking at his eyes yet again. “Wendy, I read about you. It’s not too late. You’re a doctor. You took the Hippocratic Oath. Nil nocere- do no harm. You can still fix this. Please. Just let me go. If you can find it within your heart you can let us both go.” He glanced over to Ji. “If you’re going to keep us alive, please let us go.”

Wendy tilted her head and looked at him with an almost confused look. She reached over and maneuvered his head so that he was facing down again, putting something on his head that he soon after realized was an ice bag just from the sheer cold. “You’re lucky you weren’t hit very hard. It’s unlikely you have a concussion despite the stairs, so I won’t have to perform anything like surgery.” It was as if she hadn’t heard him at all. He just had to try again.

“Why are you doing this? What’s the point of keeping us alive out of mercy if we’re just going to be trapped here?” He struggled weakly against the cuffs, earning a condescending pat on the head from the doctor.

“Oh, it’s not out of mercy.” She deliberately let that sink in, occasionally moving the bag of ice around his head for a few minutes before she took it off completely and tilted his head back up. “Your first training session starts now. You’ll be seeing a lot of me and Seulgi for a while, so try to learn quickly, OK? Neither of us wants to paralyze you, so behave. The drugs could easily ruin your system if either of us are careless, and I don’t think Seulgi would be patient enough to do anything but break your legs if you try something stupid. And if she breaks your legs it’s hard to heal, and if you’re hard to heal then you’re dead weight… and we don’t like dead weight. It’s a privilege you’re alive at all, so make sure to cherish every moment.”

Wendy stepped back and wheeled her cart away through the metal door. Since it opened outward he couldn’t see what was past it, frustratingly enough. Seulgi came in with her own cart through the same door, the cart oddly rickety for someone who looked so professional. Even before he could properly see what the cart held there was the tell-tale clanging of metal against metal as the cart rocked to and fro. She hadn’t even come close to him yet and he was already shivering in anticipation for whatever horrible thing she had in store for him. As he looked down in frustration, anger and most of all regret, he realized that that was exactly why the cart was rickety. The torture already started.

Instead of going for him like he expected, the leather-clad girl stepped over to Ji. He felt terrible for thinking it, but he was glad that he wasn’t in her attention at the moment. She went so far as to actually rip off the blindfold that was on Ji instead of untying it. The other boy looked oddly calm even though it seemed like he was barely conscious, already small eyes almost completely covered by his slowly dropping eyelids. When Seulgi spoke it was somehow more intimidating than usual even though her voice was softer and gentler. “Jimin, are you awake?” So that was his actual name. Jimin. He wished they could have met under better circumstances, but he knew nobody was exactly happy to be abducted and kept in a dank basement. He was the closest thing to an ally he had since Wendy seemed to go along with everything willingly. “Jimin?”

When Seulgi didn’t receive a response from the other captive past small mutters, she seemed to lose all patience and slapped him, earning a shrill shriek. She picked up a syringe and waved it right in front of his face. “You remember this, right?” Jimin looked absolutely terrified, so much so that it seemed he was trying to press himself against the wall to avoid it. “That look says it all.” Seulgi went on to filling the syringe in a bottle of clear liquid, probably some drug or another, possibly even the paralyzing one Wendy mentioned. She flicked the syringe a few times, spurting the liquid straight up before her gaze made its way onto Taehyung.

“You get a special present today, Jimin. You’re going to watch me break in another one. A special one.” She padded over to Taehyung and he did the same thing Jimin did, pressed himself against the wall, temporarily ignoring the pain that came from his distressed skull. He couldn’t fight and he couldn’t flee, but his body still did its best to try to do either, leaving him to shimmy uselessly within his restraints. “Now then. Who are you and why were you observing us?”

Chapter Text

He didn’t quite know whether he didn’t want to tell her or was simply incapable of telling her just out of sheer fear, but Seulgi didn’t seem to care. Any form of silence was enough for her and she moved in without any hesitation, grabbing his face and leaning her mouth right next to his ear. “If you don’t want to die, don’t struggle.” He relaxed as much as possible, though his limbs twitched here and there. Seulgi leaned back and took in his attempt to cooperate with satisfaction. “Say ‘aaah’. Open your mouth wide.” When he did so Seulgi grabbed his tongue, maintaining an incredible grip even when he started thrashing the wet muscle out of panic. With practiced ease she stuck the needle into his tongue and pain radiated out from his mouth. It was like fire consuming him from the inside, almost like a torch was stuck right into his mouth and kept there. When the syringe’s payload was delivered Seulgi yanked it out and let go of his tongue. Taehyung wasn’t sure whether it was better to leave it hanging out of his mouth or keep it inside, because it burned like hell either way.

Just as quickly as the pain came, numbness took its place. At first it was a blessing, an act of mercy, but he soon found that it wasn’t mercy at all. The numbness faded and the pain from his head felt even sharper, but the worst part was that he couldn’t move much. He fell slack against his restraints, unable to keep himself up past lifting his head slightly. The closest thing he ever felt to this was when he fell asleep in a stupid position and woke up feeling like his arm wasn’t there. Of course, he could reach over with his other hand and move the ‘dead’ arm until it regained feeling, but here he was restrained and past that, every single limb was ‘dead’. Seulgi started loosening the cuffs and within moments he was crashing toward the floor, hitting everything on his front hard. He managed to move his head to avoid landing right on his nose, but landing his cheek was almost as bad, since it seemed to aggravate the injury on the back of his head.

His tormentor rolled him onto his back. The ceiling here was far more horrific than the one in the actual house section, since it was filled with an almost random assortment of chains, all presumably for hanging things, or more likely, people like him. He couldn’t focus on the chains for long, however, since Seulgi repositioned his cart to be right next to his prone body before sitting on his stomach. His heart started hammering again when she took out a box filled with what looked like countless iron bars. Before she messed with those, however, she took out tissues and doused them with rubbing alcohol, wiping down his entire upper torso patiently. When even his arms were clean, she leaned back and picked up a handful of the iron bars, looking at them rather than him when she started speaking. “You knew who Wendy was, huh? You’re really interesting. Even more interesting than Jimin. Do you know who I am?”

It took quite a bit of effort, but whatever he was injected with left him capable of speech, even if it was slightly slurred. “You’re Kang Seulgi… a masseuse.”

“Spot on. You got my surface job.” She swept some of the hair that spilled over her shoulder back and gave him a small smile. “But that’s not my important job.”

“B-Backup dancer?”

“You even have information on that?” She raised an eyebrow before shaking her head and giggling slightly. “Well, no matter. At first I thought you were a rookie cop, someone who actually cared about justice and whatnot. One of those stupid ones who didn’t understand that they were working with powers that go far beyond just their precinct. But you’re not. Or you would’ve already figured out what I’m really known for.”

He stayed silent, clamping both his eyes and his mouth shut when she moved one of the bars right above the front portion of his trapezius. “Being a masseuse has its perks. You get to touch people in a way that nobody else can. You understand the body almost as intimately as any doctor. Depending on what you specialize in you could even understand the concept of Qi and how it affects the body. Have you ever had acupuncture?”

“N-No.”

“Well, this’ll be your first time.”

The bar she held up turned out to be a ridiculously long needle, one that easily sunk into his skin. True to her word as a masseuse though, it didn’t hurt, just stung very briefly when it first entered. He opened his eyes and looked at the needle sticking out from his body, amazed that he wasn’t being sawed in half or something equally painfully ridiculous.

“Lots of amateurs make many mistakes. Sometimes we actually want to put the needle over the bone or vital organs, but those are reserved for people who know what they’re doing.” Seulgi diligently placed more and more needles across his entire midsection while she spoke. “Amateurs put the needle in too deep, in too shallow, pierce arteries, pierce organs. Even just a tiny hole in a vital organ is enough to make a person bleed out or drown in their own fluid. I do know somebody who purposely does those kinds of things, but I haven’t heard from her in a while.” She leaned back once more, admiring her work. Taehyung couldn’t believe how many needles were inside of him without any pain, though he sure as hell couldn’t testify to feeling any better. “I don’t want to kill anyone. I don’t murder.”

She put her palm on top of an area dense with needles. “I do want to hurt people, though.” She pushed down savagely and Taehyung suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe, his entire left chest bursting into pinpoint flashes of pain that had his left hand spasming through the drugs’ incapacitation. “Amateurs can kill. Only professionals can hurt people without killing them.” She giggled and did the same to the other sections, each time robbing Taehyung of his breath and only setting more parts of his body aflame. His entire chest felt like it was being squeezed by a hydraulic press and he could barely process that this effect was achieved solely by a bunch of needles. Tears dribbled from his eyes almost immediately. “Don’t worry about a thing. I made sure not to hit anything important. They’re far away from anything important. In fact, I can do this.”

She raised her hand and Taehyung prepared for her to slam it down even more on the needles, but she instead ran it across, minutely disturbing them but definitely exerting enough pressure to make them move. There was the disgusting feeling of something moving within him coupled with pain that almost reminded him of maggots, but it was just the disturbance of the needles causing them to tilt ever so slightly within him. He couldn’t help but scream, disturbing the needles even further and causing him even more agony. He felt absolutely pathetic, but that was exactly what he was: he couldn’t do anything, not even lift his goddamn arms.

“Now you know what I really do. My specialty is torture. Now that you know, I’d like for you to answer honestly. What’s your name?”

“Kim…”

“That’s half of Seoul. Full name.” She flicked one of the needles with much more force, forcing that one to dig deep into another section of his skin. He gave a guttural groan and struggled to speak.

“Kim Taehyung.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere. Taehyung’s a bit of a mouthful, though. Since you’re the 5th person we’ve decided to keep, I’ll call you… V instead. Why were you spying on us, V?”

“I wasn’t-”

“Wrong answer.” Instead of flicking she moved on to pressing her hand at the base of several needles, forcing them to lie tilted gradually as she pushed. He screamed again and raised his head as much as possible before laying it back down.

“Please stop!”

“Tell me why you were spying on us.”

“I was… I was looking for my boyfriend. He went missing recently. Since he disappeared nearby I thought I’d look for him.”

Seulgi looked back toward Jimin with a smirk on her face. Jimin looked as pained as he did, looking away at the door instead of what she was doing. “Well, did you find him?”

“That’s not… that’s not him.”

“It doesn’t really matter anymore. You’re going to be spending every moment with dear Jimin. I don’t mind if you two fall in love while you’re here. Just as long as you follow what we tell you.” Seulgi carefully pried every single needle out of him with as much care that she used putting them in, expertly slipping the tilted ones out just as easily as she did with the upright ones.  When they were all gone Taehyung looked down to see his chest was a bloody mess, all splotchy and red, aching with an ungodly fervor. Seulgi took the time to clean him off with the tissues and alcohol again before she finally left with her cart, leaving him on the floor panting. He had a few accidents in his life, but this was the worst experience he ever had. It felt like his top half was crushed by a car and it certainly didn’t help that he couldn’t move.

When his heart rate normalized a bit he realized that he could hear something other than his labored breathing, which happened to be soft sobbing. He instantly figured out who it was since there was only one person it could possibly be. Jimin, still chained to the wall, had his head hung low and, even though he couldn’t see it, was definitely crying. Taehyung’s voice was hoarse but he pushed on anyway, trying to put on a brave face for the only person who could possibly help him. “Jimin?”

The sobbing paused and Jimin looked up, almost as if he couldn’t believe his name was being called. Jimin’s eyes were bloodshot from crying, and even now there was a small trickle of tears coming down. Jimin’s voice was similarly hoarse, but it seemed like he was keeping himself together a good deal better than Taehyung was, just from the fact that he didn’t look quite as frazzled. “I’m… I’m sorry. I couldn’t do anything. Please don’t hate me.”

“It’s not your fault. It’s their fault. They did this to us. There’s nobody to hate but them. Do you have any idea if we can escape?”

“They don’t tell me anything. They just tell me that I’m going to be trained, that I’m cute and… and… It’s like I’m a doll to them. They haven’t hurt me yet. But I’m scared that they will. And very soon. I don’t want to be hurt.”

“We just have to keep talking. They like you. That much is obvious. All we have to do is go along with what they want for now. Make them drop their guard. Then we’ll be able to escape. But I have to tell you here and now that it’s going to be hard. They’re fucking crazy. So you have to trust me, OK? We’ll make it out of this alive. Together.” He wasn’t sure what he would do once they escaped, since it was obvious the police wouldn’t do anything even if their reappearance was evidence enough. After a bit of thinking he knew that the only way for them to get justice was for Bulletproof to publish the story. The police couldn’t ignore it then.

“I trust you.”

At that moment the only girl he hadn’t seen out of the entire group appeared, the one he assumed was the leader, Joy. Unlike the others with ridiculously garish outfits or styles that they weren’t used to, Joy looked completely normal in her pristine white dress and expensive looking jewelry. Just like Jimin she looked out of place in this horrible location, but after what he saw from both Seulgi and Wendy he wouldn’t be surprised if Joy was a sadist, dominatrix or whatever fucked up occupation there was left. He shut his eyes and just listened to the clicking of her heels as she walked around simply because he didn’t want to attract her attention. The heels went toward Jimin first, making the bound boy whimper, but they soon after ended up right next to his head. “I know you’re awake.”

He grimaced and opened his eyes, very briefly startled when he came face to face with Joy, mouth hovering right above his. She was kneeling off to the side of him, dress carefully tucked underneath her knees. Joy talked low and huskily, dipping low, always teasing a kiss but never delivering one. “I didn’t know if it was worth it when my girls were telling me about you, but now I know you're a keeper. You’re not as squishy as Jimin, which means we can have a lot more fun with you.” She stood up again, brushing the dirt off of her dress. “You’re probably wondering why we’ve been so open about who we are and what we do. It’s because both of you are going to be staying here until we make you the perfect pets. For all intents and purposes, you are now our property. Your right to yourselves was forfeited as soon as you stepped through our doors. You either leave this house our pets, or as dead bodies. Do I make myself clear?”

Jimin answered immediately with a ‘Yes’, prompting Joy to deliver a sharp kick to Taehyung’s side when he failed to answer. Needless to say he got what he was supposed to do quickly, as soon as he regained enough breath to speak. “Yes!”

“Good. A few ground rules. If you’re a good boy, you get to stay in the house properly. You’ll have your own bedroom, you’ll be able to eat decently, and you’ll have a relatively good life. Break any of our rules and you’ll end up here, with Seulgi and Wendy. From what I understand dear Taehyung- hm, Seulgi was right. It’s much easier to say V. From what I understand, both of you know what she’s capable of. Especially you.” She poked Taehyung’s forehead. “That bit of punishment was for spying on us and lying as well. To tell you the truth, I was intrigued about what you were doing. I didn’t even notice the cameras until Irene pointed them out.” Goddamnit, so Irene did see through his entire plan. That was probably why she was the one waiting off in the wing with the baseball bat even though Yeri and Seulgi hadn’t said anything to her. “Not only that, you had the balls to come up to our doorstep. Well, there’s a fine line between courage and stupidity. I’ll leave it up to you to figure out what your new life was the result of, courage or stupidity.”

“Let’s get to the actual rules now. Rule number one. You’re not allowed to leave this house unless you’re accompanied by one of us. We will not be granting permission for you to go out alone and any attempts to claim we did will result in harsh punishment. Rule number two. You are not allowed in the attic. Rule number three. You are not allowed in the clinic unless Wendy approves of it. Rule number four. You are not to enter our rooms without our permission. We won’t be taking your word for a while. You’ll need a written note for now. Rule number five. You aren’t allowed to handle anything that can be used as a weapon. It’s obvious that you won’t be able to touch basically anything in Yeri’s room, but it goes for the less obvious ones like scissors or kitchen knives. Rule number six. We don’t care if you fuck. Just try to keep it to yourselves and clean up afterward. We thought you’d look cute together, so we’re going to let you do whatever you want with eachother. Rule number seven. Stealing anything from our rooms will land you particularly harsh punishment. Rule number eight. I will personally gut you if you attempt to contact anybody outside. No phones, no letters, no shouting for the neighbors. That’s about all. Remember all that?”

“Yes!” He and Jimin spoke in unison, scoring a pleased purr from the socialite. Despite how she looked it was clear she wasn’t above pulling her own weight because she lifted Taehyung up and slowly secured him back into place, to the wall. Suddenly now that they had rules the entire experience wasn’t as scary, probably because it got partially got rid of the most dangerous element they had, unpredictability. Now they knew what pissed the girls off. Even that small information was enough to give him a small spark of hope, enough to get him planning an escape.

“We’re going to keep you for a little bit longer. Seulgi has one last thing to do with you two before you’re ready to go up and be good boys. Ta ta.” She gave a very brief wave before ascending the stairs instead of leaving through the door, which Taehyung immediately noted. He didn’t have much time to ponder about what was beyond the door, though, since Seulgi came back with the exact same get-up, now without her cart and holding up a large branding iron. The pattern was easy to see because it was heated up, colored a brilliant orange-yellow, though it wasn’t very easy for him to figure out what it was. The first portion of the brand was definitely an R, but the second portion looked sort of like a V, and he hadn’t the slightest clue about what it meant. What he did know, though, was that he was about to be branded. Painfully.

Seulgi was busy pulling the cord around, all the way from the other room. She was using an electrical branding iron and had to pull the cord because there were no outlets in the area of the basement he already marked down as ‘torture room’. Jimin started screaming at the sight of it, but Seulgi only had a bit of advice to share before she started. “Don’t squirm too much. If the logo’s ruined I’ll mark your other side.”

It was painful watching her move toward Jimin, because the other boy was screaming his lungs out, not even forming words or pleas, just screaming in despair. When Seulgi first came over she whispered something, which did nothing but make Jimin struggle harder, especially when she started tugging down his pants and underwear. He was afraid that she was going to brand them somewhere on the leg, but she stopped when the hip was exposed. When she was finished Jimin was still squirming, so Seulgi simply lifted her leg, planted it on his stomach and put her weight on it, pinning him to the wall. In a way Jimin was like a trapped butterfly in his eyes, beautiful, but deathly scared and at risk of hurting itself just by struggling.

If Jimin’s first screams were painful to listen to, they paled in comparison to when Seulgi lifted up the iron and shoved it onto Jimin’s hip. Smoke came out in great quantities, almost obscuring the sight. The smell of human flesh burning was rancid and he could only stomach about four or five seconds of looking, hearing and smelling that fucking atrocity. He hadn’t eaten anything in a good while, but it was no consolation since he was gagging, on the verge of vomiting bile. He looked away and tried his best to breathe through his mouth, but the screaming, the fucking screaming. He couldn’t take it.

Even though it was probably a few seconds, it felt like an eternity when Seulgi pulled off and inspected the mark. Taehyung couldn’t bear to look at Jimin even though he knew what Seulgi was doing and focused on trying not to vomit all over himself. After a few noxious burps inside his throat and a small swallow, he succeeded in not blowing chunks everywhere. Of course Seulgi didn’t waste much time and came right over to Taehyung next. She regarded him with emotionless eyes and decided that she didn’t need to pin him to the wall, something he actually appreciated since any pressure on his stomach would guarantee that he would vomit. She pulled down his pants and underwear just as she did with Jimin, though this time she had no words. Just efficient actions.

The pain from the branding iron on his hip was excruciating.

He tended to compare pain to fire or flashes of white, but this was basically actual fire, high temperatures searing into his flesh. The smoke reached his nostrils and it was nothing but the odor of skin being burnt, but he couldn’t even think about vomiting when pain was what dominated all of his thoughts. He screamed the loudest he ever had the entire night, and this was despite being dragged down stairs and being pierced by a multitude of needles. He knew that if he didn’t have the drug in his system that he would have struggled just as hard as Jimin did, but because of it he stood there, limp, screaming until he absolutely ruined his voice. He broke down into tears shortly after the branding iron was removed from him, body wracked with sobs that were matched by the other boy next to him.

The tears came harder and faster when Seulgi ran a leather gloved finger across the mark. “Huh, that turned out pretty good. Better than Jimin’s.” She patted his hip and for a brief moment he wanted nothing more than to break free from this hell and strangle her to death, imagine her scrambling in pain just like he did as she ran out of air. It was a horrible thought, but what she did to him was already far worse in his eyes. If he had to kill her to get out, he wouldn’t hesitate. Not at this point. But right now he had to play along with their sick game. Pretend he was OK with all of this and not do anything stupid, if only so that he could take Jimin along with him. As much as he came in wanting to find Jungkook, he didn’t find him- where else would he be aside from the place with the only other captive? He had to admit he projected some of his boyfriend onto Jimin, but he didn’t care. All that motivated him now was making sure that he saved a person, even if he didn’t really know who they were.

Seulgi carried the brand away and, just like earlier, as soon as she stepped through the door, Yeri and Irene came down the stairs in perfect timing. He didn’t doubt that they had some kind of practice with this entire thing, but to think that they perfected it to such a point with only their 5th captive was mind-boggling. Yeri carried two pistols, one aimed at his head, the other aimed at Jimin. Irene carried a syringe quite like the one Seulgi used on him earlier, but instead of the clear liquid it was filled with a green fluid. Irene went through the motions of finding the correct spot and injected him, proper feeling and motion returning to his extremities quickly afterward. It was so good to be able to move his hands around, even if they were shaky. It was proof that he wasn’t paralyzed forever, for instance.

Irene released him first, watching with a careful eye to see what he would do, but he wasn’t so stupid as to try to attack Irene when he could barely stand on his own without the cuffs, never mind the fact that Yeri could shoot him before he even took a step. Jimin, on his part, actually seemed to be a threat for a few seconds since he started running. However, instead of bolting for the door, he went straight over to Taehyung and hugged him, crying. A bit overwhelmed at first he didn’t reciprocate, but after thinking about what just happened he hugged him back earnestly.

“Already taking to eachother? Don’t you have a boyfriend, V? What a slut.” Yeri didn’t miss a chance to deride at all, just as willing to insult people face to face as she was willing online. This girl had bite to go along with her bark. He classed her, Irene and Seulgi as the three most dangerous ones so far. “Next time you want to make out after you get done here, might want to wait until we’re gone. I almost shot a bullet right into your pretty little brain, Jiminnie. That’s the curse of being so good with a gun, I think. You can’t claim you misfired or hit someone on accident.”

“Enough prattling.” Irene gave a beckoning motion to the two of them even though they were still hugging. Taehyung gave Jimin a pat on the back and whispered that they had to get going before they separated and followed Irene up the stairs. Yeri took the rear and made sure her guns were right on the back of their heads. Jimin looked mortified at the idea of dying, but at this point Taehyung was more concerned with the ache from that baseball bat injury. They were led up the stairs at gunpoint and Taehyung didn’t waste any time just gawking, he actively filled in parts of the mental map he was creating. He already saw the dining room for a brief moment before Irene hit him, but he didn’t see the other side until now, which was a living room. Instead of going in that direction, however, they went up one more flight of stairs up to the second floor.

As soon as they got up he immediately noticed clear glass doors that lead out onto a balcony, which didn’t have much of a railing. That was the most promising escape route so far, but of course he wasn’t given much time to look at it. Nothing else stood out because all of the doors were shut tight and nothing was labeled, which instantly put a damper on his plan. So much for figuring out where everything was. The most interesting part was that they wound around, taking three right turns before they even got to where they were supposed to be. Irene opened the door and Yeri ushered them in, at which point the girls slammed the door behind them. From the jiggling of the doorknob and the lack of a locking mechanism from their side, it was clear the room locked from the outside. If they decided to lock them in their room it would be impossible for them to escape unless they picked the lock. He couldn’t worry about that right now, though, since he was preoccupied looking at the room he ended up in.

To say the room was barren was an understatement. The room was incredibly spacious and had the same rustic aesthetic as the entire house, but all of its shelves and cabinets were completely empty. The only piece of actual furniture within the room was a bed, though thankfully spacious enough for the both of them and complete with a mattress that was soft, a sharp contrast to where he thought he’d be sleeping, standing up and cuffed to a wall in a dank basement. There were no windows, obviously, it would be way too easy to escape if that were the case, but this was… this was a lot better than he expected. There was also a door in the middle of the left side of the room. He sat on the bed before noticing Jimin hadn’t moved at all. He invited him over to sit next to him, patting the bed and waiting until the other boy took the seat to start speaking to him directly.

“If we’re going to be stuck in this hellhole for a while, I think it’s best if we… get to know eachother. My name’s Kim Taehyung. Please call me Taehyung, not… not V. Every time I hear them saying that it’s like they’re trying to wipe who I am away and- and I’m rambling again. Sorry. I’m just. I have way too much to think about now.”

“J-Jimin. Park Jimin. That’s my name. I used to be a pizza delivery boy but I don’t think that I can ever-” Jimin audibly gulped before hiding his face in his hands. “I’m an idiot. This was supposed to be an easy 4th job and now I’m trapped in here with those madwomen. And… you. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you didn’t show up. I’m scared. If you weren’t here I don’t think I would be able to do… anything.”

“You’re not an idiot. If anything, I’m the idiot, since I came here of my own free will. I know it’s pretty pointless to ask this of you, but that doesn’t really matter right now. Did you see any other captives? Brown hair, brown eyes? Wide nose?”

“That’s your boyfriend, right? No. Sorry. When I came in they gave me a tour of the house. Made me chase them around. God, I don’t know why I did that when I should’ve been going back to work.” Jimin sniffled. “Nobody was there. No noise whatsoever except for all of us. And when they decided they’d knock me out they didn’t mention anyone else.” He shut his eyes for a moment and laid down on the bed. “What was his name?”

“Jungkook. My Jungkookie.”

“What happened to him?”

“He went missing. Around the time pizza boys were starting to disappear. We were journalists together. He was supposed to have been investigating something big before he disappeared in this neighborhood.” His eyes were starting to burn again. “I’m going to look around the room. Get some sleep. I’ll look for something that could help us.”

While Jimin repositioned himself so that he was lying properly on the bed this time, Taehyung took it upon himself to search the room. The cabinets and shelves were as useless as he thought they were, nothing behind them, nothing beneath them. He looked underneath the bed to find nothing but lint. The only reasonable place left to look at was through the door. Opening the door carefully, he found it to be a relatively large bathroom. The sink looked to be in good working condition, and there was even a porcelain tub and shower combo in the corner of the room. He briefly considered messing with the showerhead since it would be a metallic weapon, but trying to challenge Yeri with a showerhead was the epitome of stupidity and he decided against it. Above the sink was a mirror that he checked himself out in. Yep. Yeah, he looked like shit. Then again, he looked like that ever since Jungkook went missing, so it wasn't surprising. He tried to check out the back of his head, but since it was really at the back it was hard to look at it. Maybe if he asked Wendy she'd give him painkillers because it was still killing him.

What he did notice about the mirror was far more important than his appearance; the left side was lopsided and seemed to be jutting out. He carefully moved the mirror out a bit more, discovering a small hole that was hidden behind it. Looking at the contents of the hole, it seemed there was paper inside of it, folded and packed. He took hold of all of the paper and took it out before returning the mirror to its rightful place. He unfolded the papers and his heart screamed with glee. “Holy shit.”

The papers were maps. Maps of the majority of the house.

Chapter Text

Taehyung wasted no time bringing the maps out, eager to tell Jimin about his discovery, but the other boy was already fast asleep, snoring softly. OK, well, he’d just tell him about the discovery whenever he woke up. Unwilling to sit down on the bed and risk waking up Jimin needlessly, he sat down on the floor next to the bed instead and spread the maps out before him.

The biggest flaw he saw with the maps was the lack of windows, but that was vastly overshadowed by the fact that he had any maps in the first place. Even though the girls were meticulous about everything that they did, he didn’t think that they’d go through all the trouble to hide maps of their house to help him escape just as a trap or something equally ridiculously maniacal. From what he saw, they were practical about what they did. The only thing even close to grandiose was what Seulgi did to him and Jimin, but that was only because torture was inherently grandiose, meant to extract information or intimidate people. Seulgi succeeded in doing both, though he certainly wasn’t scared enough not to try to escape, especially with the maps.

He did his best to memorize the maps so that he could navigate the house without fear of confiscation and punishment for having the pieces of paper, when about an hour later, there was quiet knocking from the door. His adrenaline kicked in and he hurriedly shoved all of the maps, unfolded, underneath the bed, hoping to god that they were far back enough that they weren’t visible to whoever was knocking. He did so just in time, too, since Wendy opened the door quickly, staring down at him. She seemed to be holding… clothes? Oh, thank god. He was getting tired of being shirtless and in dirty pants. She actually looked and sounded disappointed that he was awake.

“You’re supposed to be sleeping. If you’re worried about falling into a coma, don’t be. A lack of sleep isn't going to be helping you when you didn't actually suffer a concussion.” She gave a short sigh before bending over to place the clothing in front of him. He nearly had a heart attack when she looked up at him, almost certain that she could see the papers underneath the bed, but she stood up straight without any complaint. He either hid them well enough or just sat close enough that the papers were hidden behind his body. Either way was good. He wasn’t ready to go back into that basement of nightmares. Not now, not ever. As Wendy turned to leave, he actually piped up.

“Wendy, are we allowed to look around the house tomorrow?”

She regarded him with a small frown. “If you’re planning on escaping, I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“I’ve learnt my lesson. I… I’m willing to do anything to make sure that neither of us are hurt again.” He gave a purposeful glance toward Jimin, who was sleeping soundly despite everything. “I may be brave, but I’m not stupid. C-Can I have a painkiller?”

“It’s meant to hurt, so no. Ask again after tomorrow and I’ll see if I can provide you with something. To answer your first question- yes. And that’s all I’m allowed to tell you. Change and get some sleep.”

He didn’t move from his spot even when Wendy left. The paranoid side of him kept him there, expecting Wendy to burst in, catch him off guard, drag him kicking and screaming back to the basement for the maps, but no such thing happened. Shaking off that delusion, he gathered the maps carefully and folded them away, carrying them back to the bathroom and tucking them away in the alcove behind the mirror. It was only when his most precious items were safe that he even bothered with the clothing. They were pretty unremarkable, the two tops being a white t-shirt and a cream colored sweater, while the bottoms were completely identical black long pants. He grabbed one of the pants and the t-shirt and brought them into the bathroom.

Once he was inside he gambled on whether or not they got water, and to his joy, not only did the shower work, it had pretty good water pressure. He stripped his dirty pants and underwear off easily, tossing them to the side without a care in the world. For a time he just let the spray of the shower melt away some of the tension he felt, but soon enough he actually focused on getting himself clean using a bar of soap and one of the packets of shampoo that they were kindly provided.

It felt so good to be clean again, even if his chest and the back of his head screamed in protest. After a bit of looking around underneath the sink he found a single towel. The girls were definitely keen on the whole keeping people as pets thing, since if their ultimate goal was to murder people they wouldn’t have gone through all the trouble to properly stock this room with things that could help with their escape. Well, one thing. The towel. As much as he wanted to rappel down from the second floor he was sure that it was a horrible idea one way or another. Even if he was fast enough to get away from the compound, even in a scenario where Jimin wasn’t a factor, he was sure that he’d just be gunned down by Yeri while running. It was also entirely possible that the doors to the balcony were locked in the first place. The balcony was basically the most obvious place to die.

When he was dry he put on his new set of clothes and neatly placed the clothes for Jimin on top of one of the cabinets, only then going to the side meant for him. As soon as he hit the pillow, he almost flung himself off of the bed entirely because of the burst of pain. It was getting annoying to get pain from one of the softest things in the world, but he soon settled on his side, and it was lights out as his body finally got some rest. He dreamt of his Jungkook and their happy moments, and part of him didn’t want to wake up into the horror show that laid in wait just beyond the veil of sleep. If he could really focus, he saw Jungkook off in the distance, that same sweet voice of him calling his name. “Taehyung.”

“Jungkook, come closer…”

“Taehyung…”

“Just a little bit closer!”

“Taehyung!”

With a start he awoke, breathing hard, a sheen of cold sweat on his forehead. He looked around with panic at the unfamiliar surroundings, temporarily confused as to why he wasn’t in his apartment, but everything came back when he realized Jimin was standing over him, worried look on his face. Jimin was surprisingly well groomed, which meant he either woke up last night or, more likely, just got up earlier than he did and took a shower. The scared boy who pleaded with him to help him escape had almost completely disappeared, mere calmness bringing out the manliness that Jimin naturally had.

Taehyung sat up and groaned, stretching. “What time is it?”

“It’s around nine. We should probably go get some food.”

“How do you know we’ll be getting food?”

Jimin gave him a sheepish smile. “Irene came in and told me. The door’s unlocked.”

As much as he would have liked to divulge the contents of the map to Jimin at that point, he was starving. He stepped out of the room, fully expecting Yeri or somebody else with some kind of weapon pointed at his head, but there was nobody at all to escort them. It felt… off for these killers. The thought of their rules and regulations making it easier was somewhat true- there were hard and fast lines not to cross. The problem was, it didn’t cover everything. That meant he had to act at his own discretion without the help of rules to cover him whenever he was in doubt. Right now, though, he wasn’t up to exploring the house when his stomach was trying to kill him.

Following the directions he memorized, he walked all the way from their room to the dining room without any difficulty, much to the amazement of Jimin. The dining room itself wasn’t anything special and was mostly empty except for the table, chairs, a few paintings and a chandelier. There were no windows, so the chandelier was lit, bathing the room in a yellowish glow. Irene was staring from the far end of the dining table, a cup of… something sitting in front of her. Probably coffee or tea. Their plates were at the near end and for a moment he just waited for Irene to say something. When it was clear that she wasn’t going to say anything, he just gave her a small greeting before sitting down and digging in. Even though they were just bacon and eggs, they tasted amazing, even when compared to the ones he got from the diner he frequented. Jimin seemed to agree, smiling ever so slightly even when chewing. Needless to say, they cleaned their plates. Just as he was about to ask what to do about the empty dishes, Irene spoke up.

“Leave them.”

He blinked a few times but got up nonetheless. Irene just got weirder and weirder. He stood up and Jimin followed him obediently without being asked. Ascending the stairs once more he moved toward their room, reaching out for the door handle and jumping when it opened up, revealing Yeri. He expected her to have the maps, but just from her bored expression it was clear that she found nothing of interest. She left them without a word, prompting Taehyung to hurry in, tugging Jimin along, closing the door behind them. He didn’t even trust their bedroom, fearing any of the girls listening in from the other side of the door, so he dragged the other into the bathroom for good measure.

“Taehyung, what are we doing in here?”

“I have a plan.”

Jimin’s eyes widened just as much as his mouth dropped open. “Already? How did you- For that matter, how did you know where to go? You weren’t given a tour, right?”

He was thankful that the bathroom door had an inner lock for privacy, because even if somebody had the key it would serve as a few seconds’ distraction. He made sure to lock the door before inching the mirror out and grabbing the maps he so carefully hid, handing them off to Jimin. He simply nodded along to Jimin’s gasp.

“That’s how. If my plan works out, they’ll never see it coming.”

“What do we do?”

“I break something and we both hide. Then when they’re investigating it, we both go for different exits. It’s not the best plan in the world, but if they’re too busy trying to chase either of us down then the other will get away. I’m… sorry that I can’t guarantee your safety, but this is the best chance we have.”

Jimin looked troubled for a few moments but nodded nonetheless. “When are we going to do this?”

“Today.”

“Today!?”

“Shhhhh. Tonight, more accurately. I’m going to look through the house and see if I can find a hiding spot that won’t be really obvious. What I want you to do is look around for any windows. Doesn’t matter where they are, just tell me if they’re locked or not. Got it?”

“Yeah. Just- why are we doing this today?”

“I think they’re expecting us to try to escape in the coming days. They’re observing us. I think they’re trying to guess how we’re going to do it, and if we give them enough time they’re going to figure out every single plan we try to do before we even do it. So we have to escape tonight, before they expect it.”

“I think I get it now. Alright, let’s do this.”

Jimin hid the maps behind the mirror once more and they both left the bathroom giddy to get this plan in motion. Jimin decided to look around the second floor first while Taehyung put his bets on the first floor, mainly because he saw a particularly good hiding spot that happened to be located conveniently near to the front door; that little area underneath the stairs in the foyer.

He did a quick check on the surrounding area to make sure none of the girls were around. Irene had already moved from her spot at the dining room, nobody was in the living room and a look down the long hall and the stairs down to the basement proved that they weren’t around, at least at that moment. He didn’t waste any time afterward, pushing the sofa out of the way to make it easier for him to stoop down and get underneath the stairs. It was slightly dusty but spacious enough for both him and Jimin to hide underneath if they squeezed together. He scuttled out and put the sofa back into place, noting that it didn’t fully cover the spot. After a little bit more scrutiny he determined that it was still a viable spot because it took conscious effort to see if there was anything there.

The next place he was considering was the kitchen, but upon testing the door was locked. He actually expected it to be locked considering he knew that it had windows from the outside and was the most likely place for him to get a knife, but it was still frustrating to have an option taken away from him so easily. He moved on to the living room on the other side next, but it was just as disappointing as the dining room. For the amount of space dedicated to it, all it contained were two sofas, a coffee table and a bookshelf tucked away in the corner, none of which were anything close to hiding spots. Because it was so empty he took the liberty of checking out the window at the end of the room, only to find that it was locked. If everything went along with his plan, though, it wouldn’t really matter.

The next room he wanted to check out was the ground floor storage room, which was the least viable hiding spot for several reasons. It was obvious, it was the least likely to contain windows, and in order to even leave you had to go through two different rooms, both of which were massive. He opened up the doors to the trophy room, expecting any number of the girls to be there, but the only person who was inside was Jimin, who was seemingly entranced by… a shirt in a glass case. The room was dominated by glass cases, all lit from underneath and proudly displaying shirts, one of which he recognized to be the one that was part of his disguise. It was definitely the newest addition since it was the closest to the door, right next to Jimin’s. He cleared his throat and Jimin jumped, looking at him with frightened eyes, calming down a few seconds afterward.

“These are their trophies.” Jimin’s tone was sad, quiet enough that Taehyung had to get closer to even hear him properly. “I don’t want to count how many there are, but… these are all people they’ve abducted. And most of them were murdered.”

“You don’t have to think of it like that.”

“They told us outright that you’re the fifth. Five of these shirts are people they’ve kept before. Three of them aren’t ours and we don’t even know where they are. Everybody else is dead and rotting away, forgotten.”

“I know. We just have to… do it. Come on, let’s see there’s anything more.”

It was only when they were in the piano room that he could breathe a little bit easier. The knowledge of the map put him on edge much more than it really should have, filling him with the anticipation of any of their captors walking in just as they were discussing their plan, but it paid to be careful in life or death situations. “No luck on the second floor?”

“Most of the doors were locked. No windows in the other trophy room or with the pizza boxes. Can’t hide in either, can’t move any of the boxes without spilling everything everywhere.”

“There aren’t any in the dining room or kitchen, but the living room has a window that’s big enough to work. Don’t want to get ahead of myself just yet, though. Let’s finish checking everything else.”

The room was exactly as it was named, a room dedicated solely to a piano located smack dab in the middle. He could reasonably see Joy playing the piano for one reason or another, but the purpose or meaning behind it was quickly discarded as irrelevant by him. He moved to join Jimin at the windows, sighing when the majority of them were locked, only to look over at Jimin when there was a fair bit of rattling. Jimin’s window, the farthest one on the left, had a lock that looked at the point of collapse. It was pretty obvious even before he got closer that it saw a fair bit of wear, probably from desperate escapees trying to force the windows open, and it just hadn’t been replaced yet. Jimin looked overjoyed, and it spilled over to his voice.

“We can force it open. We can leave, Taehyung. Help me push this.”

“No. Nonono, that’s a bad idea.”

“Huh?”

“If we force it open right now they’re going to hear it. This place is pretty quiet. If we break that lock they’re going to come running.”

“We can risk it. As long as we run fast enough.”

“No we can’t.”

“We don’t even have to run anywhere far, just go to the neighbor’s house or something.”

“What if they’re not home?”

“What if your plan doesn’t work?”

“You just have to trust me-”

The doors opened behind them and they both clammed up easily, both of them glancing warily at whoever was moments away from hearing about their plan. Hell, she could’ve heard everything from behind the door. It was Joy, this time dressed in a black dress, but her expression was the same as yesterday; condescending, shit-eating smile. “You boys are talking about trust, hm?”

Jimin took a hold of Taehyung’s hand and squeezed tightly, prompting Taehyung to answer for the both of them. “Y-Yes.”

“Trust is a fragile thing.” Every single step she took was jarring, the way her heels clicked against the wood sent shivers down his spine. “Humans are scared creatures, most of the time. They trust others only so that they could eliminate a threat. I know that all too well. But trust can go awry. Say, during an escape that didn’t go well.”

Jimin flinched but Taehyung only stared blankly at her.

“I’ve seen it happen before, you know. Two boys just like you, swearing up and down that they’d escape together. But they didn’t really mean it. Each of them wanted to get out even if it meant sacrificing the other. The first one was caught and he begged, ‘Oh please, please save me’ but his darling knight looked at all of us and ran with his tail between his legs. Seulgi had a lot of fun with the runner. I’m not one for screamers, but she told me all about his pretty little voice when she flayed him. It’s such a shame that we don’t take skin as a trophy, differing opinions among us, I suppose. It made for a nice story, if nothing else.” Without warning, she grabbed both of their faces, a deep frown etched onto her face. “You aren’t thinking of escaping, right?”

This time they answered in unison again, a terrified ‘No’.

She let go of their faces and put on that same plastic smile. “Good. I was just thinking of ordering collars for the both of you. I was worried that you were up to no good and I just thought it would be a shame if I had to watch your pretty little faces go up in flames, or devoured, or- whatever Seulgi wants to do. Be good little boys, now.” She left at that point, closing the door succinctly behind her.

The room was silent for a few moments before Jimin burst into tears, burying his face in Taehyung’s shoulder. Having gotten used to the emotional fragility that Jimin had, Taehyung hugged him not only to offer support, but also to ground himself, to remind himself that what he had to do was necessary. They spent a good while just standing there, Jimin crying his heart out while Taehyung did his best to rethink the plan. No matter how much he thought about it, though, there was no way for him to guarantee Jimin’s safety without ruining any chance he had to escape for himself. It was painful, but he had to break the news sooner or later, and he chose sooner.

“Jimin, I want you to know that… I don’t want you to think that I’m abandoning you. I’m going to be realistic. One of us will most likely be caught. It might be you, it might be me. Don’t hesitate to run. Don’t help me. I wouldn’t hate you for doing that.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am. But the same goes for you. If they catch you, tough it out. No matter what they do to you just remember that I’d be doing everything in my power to rescue you.”

“I’m scared. It’s almost like I want to stay here, so I’d be safe, but… I don’t think I could handle being their plaything. It doesn’t matter how anymore. Please, just get me out of here.”

“That’s the plan.”

They searched the rest of the floor but nothing else seemed promising. The storage room connected to the piano room was filled with nothing but candles and was just as bad of a hiding spot as it originally was. All of the other rooms were locked and there weren’t any windows he could further exploit. When all was said and done, they returned to their room and retreated to the bathroom to ensure some privacy while Taehyung disclosed the intimate details of the plan.

“Now here’s how it’ll go down. There’s enough space underneath the stairs on the ground floor for us to hide underneath. You’re going to stay there. I’m going to take a chair from the dining room and throw it through the window. From there I’m going to join you underneath the stairs.”

“I think I get it. You’re trying to lure them out, right?”

“Exactly. This way they won’t actually be focused on the house. They probably aren’t going to jump out of the window, so they’d go through the door and likely leave it open or at least unlocked. I’d give them two to three minutes so they can spread far out enough, then we make a break for it. I’ll take the front door. I want you to run to the piano room as fast as possible and break open the window lock. Don’t try to run to the front of the house. They’d just round both of us up. The neighbor’s fence is short. Jump it. Get help from them or keep running, whatever you think is better.”

Jimin paused to take it all in and looked like he had a few questions, but chose not to ask them. With the most resolute face he had the entire time Taehyung knew him, he nodded. “Got it.”

From there it was just a matter of waiting. They wasted the rest of their time away in their room in complete silence, only venturing outside when the girls called them out to lunch, then to dinner which was, morbidly enough, pizza. They purposely stayed back and ate slowly in the hopes that all of them would leave. It worked, for the most part, until it was just them and Irene, at the exact same spot at the table, staring at them while taking occasional sips from her cup. They decided to leave her be and sat down in the living room, thankful that none of the girls decided to spend any time there. Irene eventually gathered up the plates and deposited them in the kitchen before heading upstairs to do god-knows-what.

As soon as she left they sprang into action, Taehyung scouting out the places around to make sure that none of their captors were spying on what they were doing. He ushered Jimin underneath the stairs and tried his best to maintain a good balance of quiet and speed when he entered the dining room and picked up the first chair. Forgoing any measure of quiet now, he ran right into the living room and threw the chair hard at the window, successfully shattering it and creating the loudest noise that this house had seen in quite some time. He sprinted back and squeezed himself in next to Jimin, moving the sofa to cover them just in time for Seulgi to throw open the door nearest to them. He could clearly see her face, but his hiding spot and diversion worked well enough that she ran straight past them to investigate the noise, yelling for backup as she did. The other girls soon followed suit, the majority of them coming from the second floor, leaving Yeri to come out of the same door Seulgi did, deadly-looking crossbow in hand, all of them flocking toward the living room.

“SHIT!” That was Joy, who sounded incredibly pissed off. “They can’t have gone far! Search for them!”

He sat incredibly still, willing himself to not even breathe when he heard the door thrown open. Curiously enough, he also heard what sounded like a lone person heading up the stairs. It really was overly hopeful to expect all of them to leave, especially through the front door, but he had to push through anyway and hope that whoever stayed behind didn’t think to check there. He mouthed the seconds to himself, each number that painfully ticked by heightening the fear that Irene or anyone else suitably crafty would appear at any moment, throwing the sofa away like some horror movie villain. Thankfully, when he reached the 3 minute mark, the coast was clear and there was only a vague commotion outside. He crawled out from the hiding spot and helped Jimin up. They shared a moment of eye contact before Taehyung patted him on the back and Jimin ran, ran toward the piano room.

Taehyung made sure Jimin was out of sight before he braced himself and went right for the front door, throwing it open and running outside, nearly impaling himself on an arrow that stuck out of a crossbow. Yeri stood there, right in front of the door, silhouetted perfectly against the pale moonlight, a dark and malevolent figure. He expected any kind of emotion- anger, sadness, disappointment, even, but Yeri just stared at him with a blank look. He was so paralyzed by the sight and knowledge that he had just been caught that he didn’t even think of running away. He just started shaking when Yeri spoke in a sickeningly sweet voice.

“Peek-a-boo.”

Chapter Text

For a few seconds everything was still. It was just him, Yeri, and the weight of her ‘Peek-a-boo’ hanging in the air. Then there was this clicking sound or something like a piston and a whoosh and he had no idea where it came from or where it went, up until the point he saw something in his peripheral vision, off to the right. He vaguely realized that it definitely wasn’t supposed to be there and reached for it with his right hand, only for his shoulder to explode into complete agony. He knew all about how adrenaline worked and how it was supposed to block pain, but there was something about acknowledging that there was a fucking arrow stuck in his right shoulder that moved past all of the pain inhibition.

Lightheaded didn’t even begin to describe how lethargic he truly felt. He could barely keep himself from dropping onto his knees or curling up into a ball, but he did allow himself to do one thing: scream. A small part of his mind was still working enough to think that his screaming would attract the other girls and help Jimin out, but he knew quite easily that this was a scream of despair, even moreso than pain. It was so easy to slip into that kind of mindset, to blame somebody else for failure and he realized that that was exactly the kind of thing Joy was talking about. Nobody thinks that they’ll be the unlucky one, and as soon as things go bad they revert back to self-preservation.

Yeri hadn’t moved an inch since she fired and he wasn’t even sure if she blinked up until he heard an all too familiar scream from the back of the house that sucked the remaining energy out of him. He let himself slump, only to try and fail at standing back up when he realized that the arrow wasn’t just lodged in his shoulder- it was trapped in the wall. All meaning left him as he was overloaded by the excruciating pain, left blind by his unwillingness to unclench his eyes even with the tears and deaf with his heartbeat ringing in his ears. It was a vicious cycle, the pain sapping his will to stand or do anything to help himself, but the less he tried the more he sank, putting more pressure on his shoulder. At some point he could barely feel his legs and he was certain that he’d die there, probably after he put too much weight on the arrow and snapped it. He wanted to laugh after picturing the arrow tearing through his muscle and skin, if only because that would be a quicker death, no matter the pain. He was praying for shock to overtake him, but he stayed conscious through the suffering. It just… wasn’t enough pain.

The sensation of the arrow being violently disturbed and his entire body tilting forward was unexpected, welcome and agonizing all at the same time. It was like Seulgi’s needles, but far more practical and relied less on the psychological aspect. It was extreme pain, almost the same as being stabbed and having the knife twisted, just with a far larger arrow. He only barely twisted his body in time for him not to land right on his face and on the arrow that was sticking out of his body, landing hard on his left side. When he opened his eyes his vision was almost completely blurred to the point of being useless, but after most of the pent-up tears hit the floor and he focused, he could see- and hear- what Yeri was doing.

He half-expected her to be standing there staring at him creepily like she did just earlier, but she was back to her usual self, crossbow casually rested over her shoulder as she spoke with Wendy. Wendy herself didn’t have her labcoat, but she was wielding an axe. Explained what actually severed him from the connection to the wall. Their nonchalance pissed him off but he could barely get a groan out of his mouth when he screamed his throat raw just earlier.

“-considered playing around with the arrow a little more but I thought he wouldn’t survive it.”

“He’d obviously survive it. No chance of hypovolemic shock with the arrow still in there. It’d only be a problem if you ripped it out of him. It’s a good thing you didn’t play with it, though.”

“And why’s that?”

“It’s entirely possible his shoulder and arm would be damaged forever even after it heals. Assuming it heals well and that it wasn’t disturbed too much.”

“So I can cripple bastards?”

“You already do.”

“I want them to be deformed freaks. The closest we’ve gotten to that are amputees, and they don’t count.”

Taehyung shifted a little and caught the eye of Yeri, who stooped down instantly even with the weighty crossbow on her shoulder. She gave him a pat on the head and brushed the hair from away from his ear before leaning in closely to speak to him. Even though Yeri obscured his sight of Wendy he could tell that she moved away, probably off to check on Jimin. That is, if Jimin survived. He hadn’t heard Jimin in a while and he didn’t know if that was a mercy or tragedy. Right now, he felt like dying was definitely more of a mercy.

“Hey, V. Your stupid plan failed. If it were up to me I’d be shooting your dick full of arrows, but I have higher-ups I can’t disobey. That’s the problem with being the youngest. You’re the one with all the guns but you’re the one being pushed around. But I can take it if I can see your pretty face twisted like that. It makes me want to rip your throat out because you’re still so beautiful. But you’d still be pretty then, right? I’m sure some fucked up son of a bitch would pay good money to have your head on a wall.”

He could barely muster up words and he knew it was no use pleading, especially to Yeri, but there was this dying hope that the neighbors would hear. As if she knew exactly what he was thinking about, she started addressing that instead.

“You’re such a fucking crybaby. You think somebody’s going to save you? Here? It’s a good thing you have decent looks or you’d just be a pushover. Like Jiminnie. He’s even cuter than you and it’s a shame he’s not the one who opened the door. But he’s not that big of an idiot.” Yeri swept the fringe of her hair back into place as she stood up, looking to the house across from their property and aiming with the crossbow. “Lemme show you why we can get away with what we do.”

She fired several arrows from the crossbow in the span of just a few minutes, and he could very clearly hear the glass shattering as she destroyed someone else’s property. It all clicked even before Yeri actually had a chance to say it. It was the reason why he never encountered anybody during his walks, it was the reason why nobody ever had their lights on while he was spying on the house, it was even the reason why Jungkook couldn’t have been taken by anybody else.

“Nobody fucking lives here!”

He didn’t know when he passed out since his memory was a mess of fragmented images muddled by an entire lifetime’s worth of pain, but when he came to he was back in the basement. There was a momentary flash of hope within him when he realized that he was farther away from the wall than usual, only to lower his head in exasperation when his hands met resistance. He took a quick scan of his predicament, a look behind him confirming that he was chained to the wall rather than cuffed directly to it. His shoulder still ached like a bitch, but he’d rather be held up this way even if his wrists and ankles throbbed, rather than being tied with his hands above his head, which would have absolutely ruined his shoulder.

Off to the side was Jimin, who looked even worse than him, bleeding from multiple cuts on his torso, bathing his abdomen in streams of red. Jimin was usually pale but he always had that rosy, sun-kissed tone despite everything, but here the glow was gone, making him look white as a sheet. Taehyung shouted Jimin’s name as much as he could with his hoarse voice. It was clear that Jimin was conscious by the way he blinked and looked up at him briefly, but he didn’t respond to his call at all. He shot two more greetings but didn’t get a response other than Jimin turning his head away. He scowled, taking Jimin’s reluctance to talk as blaming him for the failed plan even though he could’ve been silent for a variety of reasons.

Things progressed slowly until he could hear the rumbling of wheels from the other room, completely unsurprised when Wendy emerged with her usual cart. Strangely enough, she also carried with her a chair, which she placed in the middle of the room and promptly sat on. Even though Wendy wasn’t particularly dangerous, she held all of the power here, something she obviously relished with how chipper her words were.

“To be completely honest, I’m impressed with the both of you. This is the first time somebody tried to escape on the second day. There was one person who tried to do it as soon as we left him alone, but that’s neither here nor there. You have your own records.” She clapped harshly, ending her applause abruptly after about three seconds. “Now we have a special situation on our hands. Usually Irene would be in here asking which one of you deserves to die, and what death you would like to witness the other experience. We’ve had shooting squad, drowning, beheading and flaying, just to name a few, so if we decide to pick either of you off I’ll say this: the more twisted you can get, the more likely we won’t execute you in the future.”

“But I’m not Irene and you already know what I do: I keep you alive. We’ve all voted on what we want to do with you, and some people were very… insistent that you two stay alive. So here’s where things actually get interesting. V has an arrow in his shoulder that, for now, is stemming the flow of blood and making sure that he doesn’t exsanguinate, I.E. die of blood loss. However, the longer the arrow stays in there, the more likely his shoulder will heal improperly and ensure he will never regain the same functionality that he had before. Because I can’t remove the arrow just yet, it is also possible that the arrow chipped a bone and there are now bone fragments around the surrounding area. Jimin, on the other hand, has multiple open wounds that are relatively shallow. Again, no real risk for exsanguination. The biggest complication is infection. It’s highly unlikely he’ll contract tetanus, but it’s possible for him to contract necrotizing fasciitis, which is a lot more fascinating. It’s caused by A Streptococcus and a variety of other bacteria that could actually be in this room because we don’t actually clean this room much. Basically, the infected area will ooze or discolor into purple, red, black as it rots. Lots of skin lesions, bumps, blisters, that sort, will most likely arise if left untreated. If the infection is bad enough we tend to amputate the entire limb, but since his torso is the only part that would be affected we don’t have that kind of luxury. What you two need to do is decide which one of you will be treated today, and which one of you will be treated… whenever I feel like it.”

To Taehyung’s shock Jimin jumped on the chance to speak up, everything he said dripping with bitterness. That wasn’t even the end of it the rudeness, because he didn’t even speak to him directly- Jimin spoke to Wendy. “Taehyung doesn’t deserve it. He’s the one who thought of this godawful plan and convinced me to join in. I knew I shouldn’t have trusted him but look where it landed me.”

Wendy actually whistled, on the verge of laughing at his tirade. “Hey, I said to talk to V, not to me. I’m not the one you have to convince. It’s either you both decide on something, or neither of you get treated. V’s a bit more pragmatic about the way he thinks, so I’ll say this before he starts. No, we don’t care if you both die. You two are completely expendable. If we really wanted to have some pretty-faced boys doing whatever we wanted them to do, we could easily buy some from Taiwan.”

Taehyung’s blood was boiling at this point and since Jimin so clearly illustrated his opinion he decided to express his. “What the fuck was I supposed to do?”

Jimin snapped back at him easily. “I don’t know, Taehyung, maybe make a plan that works!? I thought you were intelligent but that was clearly a lie!”

“Tell me what you would have done if I didn’t have a plan. I swear to god Jimin tell me what the fuck you would have done, because as I see it, you had nothing but a horrible idea after you agreed to help me with the plan!”

“The window was right there! If you just helped me out then we could have both gone through-”

“AND GET CAUGHT BY JOY! She was five seconds away from us, do you really think that we could’ve gotten away with it?”

“Fucking- maybe! If one person was caught the other could have escaped!”

“Theeere it is. That’s what I’ve been waiting for.” He wanted to laugh, but he couldn’t muster it up. He just shook his head and smiled a little. “Jimin, we haven’t known eachother for very long but I think it’s clear that you’re just as much of a manipulator as any of these girls. Jimin, the pretty one. Jimin, the fragile one. Oh Taehyung! Save me! What a load of shit! You only care about yourself!”

Jimin got much quieter and looked away, grumbling under his breath. “That’s not true.”

“Look at me. If you’re going to lie to me say it to my fucking face and keep some dignity instead of pussyfooting around.”

“I…”

“Well? You what? Can’t admit that you’re so narcissistic that you only care about yourself? Can’t admit that you would sacrifice a person trying to help you so you can survive by yourself?”

“FINE! If things really came down to it then I would have left you.” Jimin started crying again, but at this point it was plain annoying. He was just about to yell at Jimin to shut up and steer the conversation back to who gets treated, but Jimin still had more to say through his tears. “I told you I worked four jobs, right? My brother Jihyun’s sick. We don’t have enough money anymore. He’s the only reason I’m willing to keep living and moving.”

“Yeah, well, Jungkook was like that for me. I had friends and a job, but when I lost him I realized that he was the only one who really mattered to me. I went down the goddamn rabbit hole looking for him. See where it landed me? You have to let go-”

“Are you telling me I should let my brother die?”

“Why don’t you politely ask Wendy whether or not she’d give a shit if your brother dies? She doesn’t even care about your life!”

Wendy cleared her throat, drawing both of their attentions to her. Her troubled expression only raised Taehyung’s suspicion, especially when he heard what she had to say. “Park Jihyun and Jeon Jungkook?”

As soon as she dared to speak his Jungkook’s full name, he went absolutely rabid, struggling against his restraints without a care for how his shoulder exploded with pain multiple times. “HOW DO YOU KNOW HIS NAME? What the fuck did you do- no, where the fuck is he!?”

“Jungkook was an odd one. Showed up here asking about Red Velvet. It’s one of those things only a few people are allowed to say, let alone know about. What’s the name of that ridiculous newspaper he worked for again? Bulletproof Boy Scouts? Let me take a guess. You also worked for the same newspaper and that’s how you ended up here.”

“I was looking for Jungkook, you bitch!”

“Using information you got from your job. That’s how you know about all of us. You could reasonably know one or two people, but a masseuse from an area that you don’t live in? At this point it’s troublesome to have that kind of organization running around if you’re able to pinpoint where we are.”

“Stay away from them!”

“Or what? You have an arrow sticking out of your shoulder. It’s not good to threaten the only person who could help you somewhat right now.”

“Don’t touch any of them. They’re innocent people!”

“Sticking their noses into business that isn’t their own. I suppose it would be nice if they could follow along with Joy Inc., but that’s not what you boy scouts are about, right? Strong-willed, the lot of you. We might have to kill them preemptively.”

“I don’t exactly think you can gun them all down no matter what kind of influence you have over the police.”

“Oh, they wouldn’t see it coming. Give us a little credit. But that’s beside the point, at least for now. Is Jungkook dead?" He briefly interrupted her to yell 'Cunt', but she continued nonetheless. “Maybe. We do have a few mementos from his stay here. We’d be happy to share them with you. But before we do, there’s still the matter of who gets treated.”

Jimin piped up surprisingly quickly. “I can do with a few more scars. Give it to Taehyung.”

Wendy didn’t give much time for argument or second thoughts, as she jogged into the next room and back, carrying that all-too-familiar syringe in her hand. He was prepared for it to be the same drug Seulgi used on him, only for him to realize a few seconds before he was injected that it was the entirely wrong color. At first there were just dark spots at the edge of his vision but within seconds he lost all consciousness.

The next time he awoke he was in yet another unfamiliar setting. All of the signs he could see pointed toward hospital- the gown he was wearing, the bed he was on, even the curtains around his bed. Even though he always hated how people in movies ripped their IV lines out and wandered around, he gave himself a pass after all the shit that he went through. It killed him not knowing where he was when one of the possible locations was the lair of five serial killers. Thankfully he wasn’t given much time for hope, if only because it would be more painful to believe he was in an actual hospital, since as soon as he tried to get up he saw the chain around his ankle.

He checked his shoulder and winced a little bit when he touched the sutures, more out of what it felt like rather than pain. It was a blessing to have painkillers, even if it was really only given to him out of necessity for the surgery. As much as he appreciated the slight feeling of numbness and being slightly out of the loop, that didn’t change how he felt about what he said to Jimin. He always tried to keep the philosophy of not harming others if possible thanks to Jungkook but as soon as his boyfriend went out of the picture so did that philosophy. No matter how he looked at it, he trampled all over that way of thinking just because he thought he lost the closest person to him.

If Wendy were to suddenly appear and address him he’d chalk all of them up as supernatural entities who just knew when things happened, but this was about the first time that they didn’t arrive perfectly on schedule. He kind of wanted to lay back down and sleep some more but he could never really get back to sleeping after he just woke up, so he gave a little groan as if he had just awakened. He heard some rustling from somewhere else in the room before there were the telltale footsteps and Wendy opened up the curtain, smiling brightly.

“Welcome to the clinic. Thanks to Jimin you’ve been all patched up. You were incredibly lucky to have been hit where you were. I would say inhumanly lucky, but I think it was more to do with the fact that I taught Yeri where she should shoot to avoid too much damage. Ideally she should have gone for the feet since you don’t need those to be pretty, but hey. It’s a good thing she’s such a sure shot, otherwise she could have done a lot worse. A chipped bone means pinning the chip back into place, but it didn’t chip. Arrows are among the hardest things to treat because of the design of most arrows and how easily they could pierce into deep muscle or, worst case scenario, embed themselves in the bone, likely shattering it.”

“Do you always go on long rants about medicine?”

“Of course I do. It helps to know what could have happened so that you don’t do it again. In a way it’s like training children. I’m not the only member who’s fond of you two. There’s a, let’s say, more influential member of our team that wants you in particular to survive. Why? I don’t know.”

“Joy?”

“Nice try, but I’m not going to tell you who it is. It would be too easy for you to try to please them and get some privileges they wouldn’t have given otherwise. We all have our impulses, but we keep eachother in check. Having five different people regulating eachother helps a lot when practically everyone’s prepared to kill.”

“All of you are fucked up.”

“Yes, but we’re the ones keeping you alive. I’m going to put a blindfold on you and you’re going to let me lead you along without a struggle.”

“Not afraid that I’d tackle you or something? Shouldn’t somebody be pointing a gun at my head?”

“We all have to sleep at some time. It’s 3 AM.  And even if you did plan on keeping me hostage, there are two people who’d be very worrisome. Of course one is Yeri, she’d probably be the first to put a bullet in my head before killing you while my corpse pins you down. Plus, if you behave Joy has a gift for you. If you accept it then there’s no punishment.”

“Whatever. You guys win. I’m just happy I’m not dead at all.”

“You look a lot better when you have some fight left in you. I’m shocked that we managed to snuff it out so quickly. It looks blank. Blank Tae? Mmm, I like V more.”

“Shut up and blindfold me.”

“That’s better.”

He wanted to scream, wanted to fight, wanted to muster up everything he had within him and come up with another plan, but as he marched through the house without a clue where he was he found himself completely unable to. It went past just being woozy from the painkillers, it was as if he couldn’t even get the motivation to get started on anything of his own design. He didn’t give up any kind of a fight even when he was led down the stairs, or when he was asked to sit down on the sofa. His head felt like how static on a television looked.

When the blindfold was taken off of him he started laughing. Everybody was there- Jimin sat next to him, blood long since crusted, Yeri stroking her crossbow fondly, Wendy in her labcoat, and everybody else in those garish rainbow dresses sitting across from and around him, Taehyung himself in a hospital gown. “We look absolutely crazy. I thought you said people had to sleep.”

Wendy shrugged. “I thought you wouldn’t be surprised that we’d lie by now. It’s not 3 AM, it’s around 10.”

“I actually do want to sleep.” Joy looked absolutely cranky and as the de facto leader he wasn’t surprised when nobody spoke after her. “We’ve decided that it’s not worth killing either of you even though you messed up worse than a lot of our victims. I’m not too displeased with this development, but here’s what’ll make it all up.” She moved her hand to show off the cellphone in her hands. “Makes sense for Jimin not to have one, but what about you, V? I would have loved to get my hands on your phone.”

“I didn’t bring it along so you sick fucks wouldn’t be able to harm anybody I know.”

“Didn’t really work out, now did it? Bulletproof Chronicle, headed by Kim Namjoon, employees Kim Seokjin, Jung Hoseok, Min Yoongi, formerly Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jungkook. Aww.”

“Fuck you.”

“V has such the cutest potty mouth. Almost makes up for the fact that I’m taking time out of my day when I could be going to the spa. If I don’t go regularly my face will lose its softness. So let’s get this over with.” She stood up and dialed a number, staring right at Jimin. She tapped a button and held it away from her face when it started ringing, obviously on speaker. A voice he didn’t recognize stuttered out a meek ‘Hello’, which Jimin reacted violently to, almost flinging himself off of the couch.

Joy slapped him harshly and shoved him back down into seated position, Yeri automatically pointing the crossbow at him as if she expected it to happen. “Now, now, Jimin. Behave. That’s no way to act when you’re speaking with your younger brother. Now then. Jihyun? I’m big sis Joy. Don’t worry, I’m not Jimin’s new girlfriend. We just wanted to call and tell you that Jimin’s fine.” She looked Jimin dead in the eyes with a ferocity that outmatched Yeri’s dead stares. “He was recently offered a deal by a CEO who’ll pay him lots of money. You’ll have all the medicine you need and more forever, but Jimin’s going to be away for a while.”

“Noona, is it OK if I speak with my brother? I want to make sure he’s OK.”

“What an adorably concerned little brother. Of course you can. Jimin, isn’t it true that you’ll be staying over for a while? It would be a shame if your brother didn’t get his meds.”

Jimin sputtered in his rush to answer, nodding vigorously to Joy. It hurt for Taehyung to see what Jimin was reduced to, but he’d be the exact same if he had the opportunity to speak with Jungkook. “Jihyun! I’m alright. I’m more than alright, actually. What Joy said was all true. I won’t be able to see you for a while, but we’ll have tons of money, I- no, we promise.”

“How long are you going to take?”

“I… I don’t know. Just tough it out for me, OK? Don’t be scared.”

“I’m not a kid anymore. I’m 20 years old.”

“I’m just worried for you, that’s all.”

Joy ended the call abruptly without a single word, not even a goodbye. She giggled and stepped closer to Taehyung. “And that’s how it works. I knew I could pull a stunt like that because Jimin has a life on the line. As much as I would like to tell you I’d be calling Jungkook, I can’t do that. Boohoo. So I’m going to give you something that has a lot less meaning to you. Terms and conditions? You do whatever we say. As a fallback, if you refuse or do something stupid, Jihyun will die penniless.”

He sighed and moved to cross his arms, only to jerk his arm back into place when his sutured wounds protested. At this point he was a goddamn war veteran with how much injuries he sustained. “Would’ve done it anyway since that’s the only way to live in this shithole. Who are you even going to call? My parents?”

“Nah.” She dialed again and he thought of any number of people she’d be calling, but he didn’t actually expect her to call up Namjoon of all people. His distinctive voice uttered a low, almost guttural ‘Yeah?’. Joy switched up her tone purposefully, sounding decidedly younger and more chipper. “Hi, my name’s Jeon Somi. I’m Jungkook’s cousin. I have Taehyung with me right now and we just called to make sure you knew what we were doing. The house and neighborhood were deserted, but there were a few leads. We think they took Jungkook over to somewhere in Busan.”

Taehyung didn’t waste time, directing the conversation toward something that mattered as he finally found the motivation to do something. Ironically, he was given a huge opportunity to escape by an action that was meant to keep people away from him with an alibi. “Namjoon. Sorry for ditching you like that. Somi’s been really helpful so far. Sweet girl, but practical. Maybe she could join Bulletproof.” Thank god they had their own little language of their own that sounded completely inconspicuous. Namjoon kept the Chronicle understaffed for a reason and no suggestion to take in anybody was ever accepted, let alone given.

“Flash?”

“Thunder.” They even had a code for situations just like this and for once the girls had vastly underestimated him. It was exactly the break he needed.

“Try not to get yourself into too much trouble. A boy and a girl traveling alone together? People get the wrong idea.”

“Let them think whatever they want. Willing to weather whatever they have to throw at me until we can find Kookie.”

“Hey, when you get back, want to get pizza?”

“As soon as possible. But the good kind. Properly cooked is the best. Pizzas take too long when you’re travelling.”

“Got it. See ya around, Taehyung.”

He leaned back comfortably in his seat even as Joy looked slightly perturbed at how easily and smoothly the conversation went. Irene had a similar expression, but it only lasted in his peripheral vision; she went back to being stone-faced when he actually looked at her directly.

Joy eventually shook off whatever she felt and tossed the cellphone over to Wendy, who quickly pocketed it and started heading upstairs. “Well, now that that’s over here’s my first command to the both of you. It’s a lot easier to keep pets now that we have leverage. I want you two to fall in love with eachother. Jimin, that means you don’t mention Jihyun and V, that means you don’t think about Jungkook. You two should only have eachother. You already know what we’ll do if we don’t think you’re acting enough like a couple. I look forward to seeing your undying affections.”

Chapter Text

Taehyung and Jimin shared a long stare, the realization of what was just asked of them weighing heavy on both their minds. Taehyung had no idea what they were playing at anymore, but it didn’t matter. These girls were taunting him with the idea that his boyfriend was alive and well just by forcing him into this relationship. If Jungkook were alive this meant that they could truthfully say that he cheated on him, and if he wasn’t it could just be written off as one of their sadistic whims like catching and murdering pizza boys. As a journalist it frustrated him to no end when he couldn’t read or figure out what people were like.

He broke the stare and gulped, looking up at Joy once more after making a calculated gambit. “S-Since we’re boyfriends now, can I ask for Jimin to be patched up? I don’t think I can sit by while my… boyfriend’s suffering.”

Yeri giggled and shook her head. “You’re trying a bit too hard. Could’ve just stopped after the first sentence. I do feel kind of bad for you, though. It’s hard to love someone when they have pus dribbling from their wounds. What do you guys think?”

The most opinionated one there, Joy, instantly had something to say. “Did you not hear me when I said we killed for less? It was fun making those idiots think that these two are fine, but we need to maintain some kind of order before these two break another rule or try to escape again.”

Irene looked even more unimpressed than she usually did, which was quite the feat. “You already have enough leverage over Jimin. V still has his moral obligations to Jimin. We literally have them in a better situation than we could hope to if our only threat is hurting them. People get used to pain.” Seulgi nodded her approval.

“It’s a matter of principle, isn’t it? Then V should be punished in his place.”

“He just had a surgery. Doing anything violent unwarranted will make sure that he dies for no real reason. Both of them should heal properly so we can get some real use out of them later on.”

“What makes you think that they’d be of use?”

Irene paused for once and mumbled something to herself before nodding and continuing. “V has the potential to take it all the way.”

“But he failed. What do you mean he has potential?”

“The biggest mistake you could make is thinking you’re safe just because you think you hold all of the cards. There will always be someone waiting for the right opportunity.”

“You just told me that we have enough leverage.”

“…For the situation as it is. Joy, we are going to allow Jimin to heal for now.”

Joy’s temper flared as she scowled at Irene, but no amount of venom or anger she could channel into her expression could convince Irene of any other action. Joy eventually backed down with a soft ‘Tsk’ and a shrug. “You know best, I guess. This better not end up backfiring.”

“It won’t, at least not by my standards.”

Joy muttered something about Irene’s low standards rather childishly as she moved away. Yeri headed off, presumably back to her room, leaving Seulgi and Irene to escort Taehyung and Jimin up to the clinic. At first he was convinced that he was going to be locked inside their shared room and forced to wait for Jimin to be treated like the first time around, but they took the whole boyfriend thing very, very seriously. Just another line he had to watch out for while waiting for Namjoon to break them all out.

Once they were at the clinic Seulgi took her leave while Irene watched from the door. Wendy guided them over to a bed where she laid Jimin out, firmly planting Taehyung in a seat on one side of the bed, closer to the door. It seemed that Wendy was prepared for the operation even before it was confirmed, since she had everything set up on the counter next to her. Wendy occupied the other side and he half-expected her to laboriously explain every single detail of the operation, but she thankfully kept her thoughts to herself and worked.

It was kind of mesmerizing, to be honest, seeing a trained professional who did this many times before practice their craft. He knew the basics of cleaning wounds in a non-professional environment since Namjoon’s clumsiness lead to open wounds once or twice, but his assumption that doctors also used water was wrong. Wendy did use water, but only used it to scrub away the blood that stained Jimin’s abdomen by dousing cotton balls with it. When it came time for the actual wound cleaning, she instead reached out for a brown bottle with some other liquid, doused fresh cotton balls in a similar fashion and steadily cleaned the wounds without leaving a single stray piece of cotton behind.

He expected her to bust out the sutures next, but she defied his expectation once again. She shook out two pills into one hand and picked up a glass of water from the counter and offered them to Jimin, only offering up one word to explain. “Antibiotics.”

Jimin dutifully took the pills and waited for Wendy’s approval to get up, which she gave with an exaggerated thumbs up. That was… quick. He helped Jimin off of the bed and walked toward Irene without being prompted, but that was what they were meant to do anyway. Irene escorted them to their room and ushered them inside almost eagerly, locking the door as soon as they were inside.

For a time they both just sat on their bed, contemplating the fact that they had basically one day or less to magically fall in love with eachother. He did admit that he had a crush on Jungkook as soon as the first time he met him at Bulletproof, but it took months for their relationship to really blossom. He wouldn’t be surprised if this was actually some experimental torture method playing on people’s priorities and their willingness to change.

Jimin was the first one to break the silence with a thoughtful sigh before starting the conversation bound to happen. “I can’t thank you enough for what you’re doing. I’m sorry about everything I said, even if it sounds like I’m just trying to make up for trying to throw you under the bus. I’m honestly really thankful that you’re doing this.”

“Come on, I’m not about to ruin the best opportunity you and your brother had in a while. I’d like to apologize on my part. Jungkook’s been gone so long I’ve marked him down as dead.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have to be. I was so angry that someone near and dear to you was still alive while my loved one was taken away from me even though there’s a good chance he’s still alive. I couldn’t help myself, so I should be the one apologizing. Your brother deserves to live.”

“I guess we’re even then.”

Taehyung hummed in agreement before he remembered something and snapped his fingers. “Hey, you took the fall for me before I even agreed to help Jihyun. I had to beg Wendy to treat you after the phonecalls, so…”

“Remember when I said I could do with a few more scars?”

“Yeah? I didn’t see any on you.”

Taehyung tilted his head in confusion when Jimin started rolling up his pants, but flinched in understanding when he saw several old scars that had long since healed over, but were still a vivid brown-red, standing starkly against their pale white surroundings. “It’s so stupid that I can’t talk about these things without feeling like I’m being judged. You’ve seen so much worse done to me and this is what I choose to worry about. It’s just dumb. I used to tell people all the time that this was an accident with barbed wire, but no point now, right? I freaked out so much about having another ugly mark on my body when they branded us, but it really wasn’t that big of a deal. Just another mark. That… sounds so wrong.”

“There were times I was tempted to do the same thing, so it’s nowhere close to being stupid. Don’t blame yourself for how you cope. We had our own shitshow in much worse circumstances. Guessing your parents weren’t very good people if they made you feel like you couldn’t talk about it.”

“Not even decent. They’re the ones that lead up to this. I was supposed to be a nurse but I was never really confident in that choice. Then when I said my actual dream was to sing, they abandoned me. Kicked me out right in front of Jihyun. I never forgave them. Instead of going with music like I wanted, I had to get jobs with no experience. Ended up crashing with a friend and working for them at the same time.”

“That’s messed up. How’d you end up with Jihyun?”

“They kicked him out too. I couldn’t ask my friend to shelter both of us, so I took on two more jobs so I could rent out a place. He was the reason I stopped and stayed clean ever since.” Jimin ran his fingers over the scars on his leg in a manner that wasn’t quite affectionate, but definitely gentle. After that he firmly rolled the leg of his pants back down. “Then he got sick and I had to take on yet another job delivering pizzas. I always thought to myself, ‘How could I be unhappy if my brother is suffering under circumstances he can’t control?’ That’s how they got me in here. They promised to tip me extra if I played a game with them.”

“Well, we managed to get a pretty favorable outcome.” He didn’t want to ruin any real friendship he managed to make with Jimin while pretending to be boyfriends by mentioning Namjoon’s impending rescue operation. With Jihyun on the line Jimin would refuse to participate no matter what. “Your brother’s safe and sound.”

“I’m sorry about Jungkook.”

“Let’s not mention him. We’re supposed to be boyfriends now.” He coughed awkwardly and looked away, trying to find an appropriate segue but failing spectacularly. “Are you OK with doing boyfriend stuff?”

“I should be the one asking you that. I don’t think they’re going to be satisfied by us just hugging or holding hands.”

Taehyung licked his lips in anticipation, his heart starting to pound at the mere prospect of kissing anyone that wasn’t Jungkook. “I-I’m sure that I can do it whenever it’s necessary-”

Jimin crossed his arms and looked at him with authority. “Then kiss me right now.”

“What? Jimin, I-”

“They’re not going to give us a second chance if we mess up. For the sake of Jihyun I need to make sure that you’re willing to do this. You can pretend I’m Jungkook if you need to.”

“I got it, I got it! Just… Pucker up and close your eyes.” Jimin did exactly as Taehyung asked, which only heightened the sense of anticipation that already settled uncomfortably at the pit of his stomach.

Jimin was certainly quite attractive, albeit more feminine and just a tiny bit softer than Jungkook. He was getting sick of constantly flip-flopping between the hope that his real boyfriend was alive and the convenience of temporarily thinking he was dead, but if he had any hope of convincing his captors he’d have to choose the latter. He moved forward hesitantly, stopping when his mouth was just a few inches away from Jimin’s.

He closed his eyes and tilted his head, inching his way forward at a painstaking speed. He tensed up so much that he actually relaxed when he found his lips on Jimin’s. Jimin’s lips were so soft and plump, practically inviting him to do more. He had no idea if Jimin had any experience kissing at all since his attempts to reciprocate were almost lackluster, but Taehyung deepened the kiss until he got the kind of reaction he wanted. There was just so much pent up stress and this burning need inside of him for skinship that made him shed most of his inhibitions. He carried on for a few more seconds, up until the point where Jimin moaned into his mouth.

He didn’t know whether he broke the kiss for lack of air or because of a sudden bout of self-awareness seeing as he made somebody other than his boyfriend moan, but he couldn’t help but enjoy it, not when he was starving for a kiss just like that. He tried to escape the fast-approaching guilt with a poor attempt at humor. “So? Am I a good kisser?”

Jimin, unfortunately, decided to take the bad joke completely seriously. “I wouldn’t know. That… was my first kiss. But it was amazing. Definitely amazing.”

Jungkook was the one who taught him not to be a clumsy teeth-clacking kisser like he used to be, but that was just another thought he had to shove to the very back of his mind. No big deal. He just had to maybe cheat with this totally hot guy. No. Big. Deal.

He didn’t even know he spaced out until he saw Jimin’s hand waving over his face, sharing a small chuckle with the other when he ‘came to’.  Jimin moved  his hand toward Taehyung’s and soon enough they were holding hands, which was much less of an ordeal compared to kissing. It was probably better to start off with hand holding before they went overboard and set the expectations too high too early.

Of course, Yeri had to go out of her way to do absolutely nothing with their relationship demand and instead use them for something completely different; target practice, the very next day. He figured that she’d be reasonable enough to take them outside where the arrows wouldn’t damage anything, but she instead took them to the living room and positioned them right in front of the window that he smashed in just yesterday. Despite having the threat of killing Jihyun already hanging over their heads, Seulgi hung around, acting as Yeri’s assistant. They did very standard things like stand in place while she shot apples precariously balanced on top of their heads before moving on to the flashier stunts she preferred.

“Alright, now let’s see if you two pretty boys throw like sissies. Move to the wall.” Yeri nodded to Seulgi and put the crossbow down a good distance away. The duo then picked up one of the sacks that held all of the apples they used and mercilessly tossed it toward them. Taehyung immediately stepped in front of Jimin, yelling in pain when a good number of apples collided with his leg, though thankfully the sack fell halfway across the room before it had the chance to cripple him.

He looked around in confusion when Yeri started giggling, eventually noticing that Jimin was already a safe distance away from the apples and probably stepped out of the way as they were coming. That, of course, meant that the pain in his leg was almost completely unwarranted, but he did his best not to give Yeri that kind of satisfaction. Jimin came back over as soon as it was clear that there wouldn’t be more fruit projectiles and patted his back in consolation.

When Yeri picked up the crossbow again he figured out what they were going to do, carefully bending over and reaching for one of the apples with his left hand. He was originally left handed but trained himself to be ambidextrous, so the shoulder injury thankfully didn’t cripple him in any major way. He tossed the apple up in an attempt to catch it, only for the apple to never hit his palm. He jumped when he heard the deviously quiet sound of a firing arrow again, but putting two and two together it was easy to look up and behind him to see the apple cleanly pierced by an arrow and stuck to the wall. The image wasn’t pleasant when he could very clearly remember the horrible crunching sensation from his shoulder.

“V has the right idea already. Come on. Take turns throwing. If either of you manages to throw a single apple that I can’t shoot, I’ll let the both of you have a favor each.” It was an opportunity that Taehyung wasn’t going to pass up, even if it was virtually impossible to achieve.

He picked up an apple and looked at it for a few seconds in an attempt to catch Yeri off guard. He could still see Yeri in his peripheral vision, though, and she was aiming straight ahead, not falling for it in the slightest. He breathed a small sigh before tossing it straight forward, clicking his tongue when the apple was shot almost as soon as it left his hand.

Jimin groaned whenever he moved too quickly, so he went for a less direct approach to avoid aggravating any of the healing cuts on his torso. Compared to Yoongi who was far more athletic, he couldn’t name many techniques or throws, but what Jimin did looked suspiciously like a screwball. Jimin must have had some kind of pitching experience because his apple swerved and lasted a bit longer, but ended up being shot through the window anyway.

The rest of the throws went just like that, all shot down without ever getting close to the wall. If Yeri’s smile at the beginning was playfully coy, she was sneering at their total inability to outmatch her. Even though Taehyung expected this outcome, Jimin looked incredibly disappointed, so he rubbed Jimin’s back in an attempt to comfort him. Seulgi didn’t miss that little detail and whispered to Yeri, who started nodding soon afterward. That was never a good sign.

“Seulgi had a great idea, boys. V, put an apple in your mouth. Like a pig.” Taehyung rolled his eyes but did so anyway, struggling to dig his teeth through the juiciness and without biting straight through it. When he found just the right position where he could hold it up just by his teeth, he gave a thumbs-up. “Impressive. Didn’t expect you to not use your hand for it, but you’re such an obedient little pig. Anyway, Jimin. Get the other side. Support your boyfriend. Oh, and I want you to look at eachother the whole time.”

Taehyung nearly spat the apple out in reaction to the instructions, but Jimin only looked mildly nervous when he stood in front of him. Since Taehyung had a good portion of the apple in his mouth already, he leant forward and stared awkwardly at Jimin while the other dug his own teeth into the fruit. Even just five seconds of the prolonged eye contact felt way too long and Seulgi seemed to be relishing all of it. He would be more impressed about her unorthodox way of distressing people with just one apple if he wasn’t so preoccupied trying to make the impromptu staring less awkward (and admittedly failing).

Yeri had enough of the waiting around, but didn’t fire like he thought she would. Instead she circled around them, purposely stopping whenever they glanced at her to scare the both of them back into looking at eachother. Seulgi pitched in for her part as well, shifting her weight, moving around slightly, drawing their attention subtly. Without knowing it his gaze would be drawn to Seulgi and his eyes would snap back to Jimin with the realization that Yeri was one step closer to them. When Seulgi made a sudden move Taehyung wanted to gulp but found it difficult, forcing himself to swallow and making a wet squelching noise. Yeri laughed and finished her circling by going right behind him.

He could feel the arrowhead poking the back of his neck, sharp cold and metallic. Yeri languidly dragged the arrow over the back of his neck, each time making him shiver, almost spasming. One particular shudder was so violent that he was scared of dropping the apple or worse, impaling himself on the arrow, but Jimin had the foresight to grab his hands and squeeze tightly, saving him from either fate. If Taehyung could have sighed in relief he would’ve, but he just had to thank Jimin for it later with the apple in the way.

Yeri eventually spoke up once more after it was clear that they were holding strong despite the predicament. “Mmm, I can’t decide whether you two would look better with matching bullet holes or with one arrow stringing you two together. If I can position it just right…” Yeri adjusted her aim a bit. “I’m not Wendy, but I think I can fire so I can miss both of your spinal cords but still connect you with one arrow. Of course, it’s a lot easier to just shoot through the back of your skull, but that’s so overdone. Let’s be original.”

Taehyung flinched and nearly choked on nothing when he heard the clicking sound right behind him, but he wasn’t anything close to dead or injured. All that followed was Yeri’s soft giggle. “You’re so easy to scare. That’s how I know you don’t care about Jimin like your real boyfriend, V. You were looking at his eyes, but you weren’t seeing. Jimin wasn’t panicking at all. You can fool a lot of people, but you can’t fool me.” Yeri padded away, leaving the two of them with the apple still in their mouths and Seulgi, who padded toward them with a much more forgiving smile.

She plucked the apple from between them, dusting it off on her clothes (only proving they didn’t really care about what they wore) before holding it out on the palm of her hand. “You almost made it. Here’s your consolation prize.” When neither of them took the apple Seulgi gripped Jimin’s hand and neatly deposited the apple on it. “We have a birthday coming up. Don’t worry too much about Yeri’s scrutiny, she doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. The birthday girl’s already pleased, but if you keep this up you might be able to make use of a favor without doing anything as ridiculous as being target practice. Though I’ve been there, admittedly.”

“What do you mean you’ve been there before?” Taehyung crossed his arms. “I don’t think pointing a weapon and actually being fired at are the same thing.”

“Getting familiar, are we? I wouldn’t mind if it were Jiminnie, but since he seems as curious as you do I’ll answer anyway. I haven’t been fired at specifically, but I have certainly come close enough to them during target practice. There weren’t any apples before the two of you came along. Just the backyard and a sofa. Unless you would like to have a tomahawk and an arrow flying inches past your head, I suggest you don’t whine.”

Taehyung opened his mouth to reply but closed it just as quickly, letting Jimin speak this time around. “That won’t be necessary. Um, if I could ask something, just to prepare ourselves… who’s the birthday girl?”

Seulgi gave a condescending look and pat on the head to Jimin. “You’ll figure that out soon enough. The birthday party’s two days from now. I have a few arrows to clean up, so I suggest you return to your room now.”

Taehyung would have loved to see how Seulgi would deal with the arrows that ended up particularly high on the wall even if it was as mundane as just pulling up one of the nearby chairs, but they were given a ‘suggestion’, which meant he and Jimin had to retreat to their room.

At least, that was the plan. Before they went up the stairs he noticed something at the front door that was definitely not there when they first came downstairs for the morning- an envelope. Jimin stared daggers at him but Taehyung couldn’t just ignore it, so he looked around and pleaded Jimin to stay calm with a look. The envelope itself was devoid of any sort of writing but he stuffed it under his shirt and hugged it close to him as he ascended the stairs, Jimin shaking his head the entire time.

As soon as they got to their room Jimin sat on the bed with crossed arms. “What do you think you’re doing?” It was hard to see Jimin as anything close to intimidating but considering his willingness to protect his brother and will most likely snitch if he isn’t pacified, Taehyung had to rush to explain again.

“I’m not trying to do anything, alright? I don’t want to escape anymore but that doesn’t mean we have to keep living in an empty room with nothing to do. If there’s anything in there that can tell us what we can do to make them happier we can improve our living conditions.” All of that was a bold-faced lie. All he was really hoping for was a letter from any of the members from Bulletproof. “If it means that your brother will be safe, I’ll take any punishment.”

“Do you promise?”

He flashed his best smile. “I promise.”

Even though Jimin was against opening the envelope in the first place he came to see what it was about nonetheless, peering over Taehyung’s shoulder while he popped it open. The tearing noise was only slightly concerning, the real problem would be the obvious signs of being opened if the letter wasn’t from Bulletproof. He delicately took the letter out of the envelope, glancing one last time at the door, before he hastily opened it up.

Just from the font he could tell that he got the right letter. It was unfiltered comic sans sprinkled with painfully bright neon buzzwords sprinkled throughout the entire thing. The letter itself was an advertisement for homemade catnip toys, those three words repeated in almost every sentence, but the important thing was the first letter of each sentence. They spelled out the simple message: ‘We will be coming soon.’

While all of this was happening Jimin looked hopelessly lost, which was the intention of the letter to most people anyway. “If they asked for this I guess they’re really, really into homemade catnip toys… but I don’t think they are. Who places unsolicited letters into people’s homes anymore?”

“Don’t think about it too much.”

The next day was supposed to be the same routine, including whatever whim they had to satisfy. Their task that day started after breakfast, when they ran into Joy at the top of the stairs, who wordlessly beckoned them to follow. Instead of going left like they would for the majority of the rooms, they swerved to the right, which could only mean Joy’s room.

Joy’s room was as glitzy and glamorous as he expected, looking more like a penthouse suite at a hotel than a room in this dingy, archaic house. Everything was a pristine white, from the flooring to the walls to even her bedsheets. Since everything was dark and damp anything that was white stood out, but now that they were here it was clear that they were just eggshell instead of pure white. In order to keep up the façade of being another ordinary room within the house she had one tiny window that was always draped over, but she did add her own luxurious touch. Her bathroom door was sliding glass much like the balcony’s, while her walk-in closet stood open perpetually without a door at all.

Joy’s room easily outclassed any other room in the house; leather sofas, a flat-screen TV, a massive bed, a full-length mirror next to a vanity with tons of makeup, pieces of furniture that looked more like art pieces than things to be used regularly. The only thing that looked out of place was a stretcher that was placed in one of the more spacious vacant areas of the room. It was clear that Joy was speaking to them even though she looked and sounded disinterested, heading over to the vanity to touch up her makeup. “Are you boys interested in girls at all?”

Taehyung dared to roll his eyes solely because Joy was looking only at herself. “Is this another cheap test to prove I’m loyal to Jimin or something? I’m not interested in whatever or whoever you have. I love Jimin.” Jimin blushed but got the message immediately, holding his hand.

“Feisty. If it weren’t for some people I would’ve already put you on a muzzle…” Joy frowned, more dissatisfied with her makeup than Taehyung’s words. He didn’t know if it was intentional, but she pissed him off so much just by doing that. “How about you, Jimin? Are any of us your type?”

Jimin shook his head, grip tightening on Taehyung’s hand. “N-No, sorry. I’m not really interested in girls a-and I have a boyfriend now, so I wouldn’t want to cheat on him even if I was interested in someone.”

“Well, good for you two.” Joy stood up suddenly, slipping off her dress without any hesitation. Taehyung averted his eyes before he saw anything he didn’t want to see. Of course he looked back after a few seconds just to see what she was up to, sighing in intense relief when he saw that she still had her bra and panties on. They were the frilly, sheer-in-places black lingerie kind, but it was better than nothing. He realized that the thing in the middle of the room wasn’t a stretcher when Joy laid down on it with her stomach, it was a massage bench. “I could technically use either of you but V’s an opportunist at heart. Jiminnie, give me a massage.”

“Um, could I ask why I have to do it when Seulgi’s a masseuse?”

“Same reason I don’t want V to do it. We’re not perfect machines, you know. Not all of us, anyway. People have agendas of their own. You two had and have agendas of your own right now. Jimin doesn’t lie about his end goal.” Taehyung gulped at the ambiguous threat, but stood strong. Until he had solid evidence that they knew what was going on with Namjoon, he’d distract them with his indignant attitude. “I put a bottle of massage oil on the vanity. Jimin, get to massaging. V will get it for you.”

As Jimin awkwardly laid his hands on Joy’s back Taehyung zeroed in on the vanity. Sure, there was the bottle of oil standing right there, but he wanted to look for some sort of writing implement. Ideally something like an actual writing implement like an eyebrow pencil, but all of those were either tucked away near the back or wedged tightly between other products, leaving them inaccessible without making noise. Without thinking too much about it, he snatched one of the smallest capsules he could get and stuffed it underneath the waistband of his pants for the lack of pockets. As long as it was pigmented, he could use it. He grabbed the bottle of massage oil and went back to Jimin’s side, handing it over to him.

As soon as Joy confirmed the hand-off, she shooed Taehyung away, uncaring of where he was as long as he was visible and not doing anything threatening. With the makeup already stolen all he had to do was sit down on a nearby sofa and cross his legs. In his opinion Jimin had the worse task but worked at it like he wanted to do a good job anyway. It was easy to gawk at how Jimin rubbed his hands all over Joy’s skin or roll his eyes at Joy’s slight moans for the first five minutes. Past that was crushing boredom. If he had to guess what Joy was doing, it was probably to try to get him jealous. It was working less on the fact that Jimin was supposed to be a boyfriend and more on the fact that he hadn't gotten a proper massage in years.

He let his mind wander and at some point he was debating whether it was possible to kill somebody with just an eyebrow pencil when Joy spoke up again, making him jump. “It’s so boring with leverage. I have to pull this kind of stunt to even get a reaction out of V now. Irene sucked all of the fun out of this game.” Joy shifted her head to look straight at him. “I don’t know what she sees in you. If it were up to me I would have killed you by now. If you’re really as special as she tells me you are, why aren’t you fighting back anymore? Come on, I’m sure you have a hare-brained scheme by now.”

“You know what makes a mystery so interesting? When you give details. People are never dissatisfied with figuring out a complicated mystery using details they were given, right? If you tell us more about what you all are doing, then…”

“Once a journalist, always a journalist, huh? Oh, what the hell. I don’t have to answer to any of them if you never get away to tell the tale. Keep it a secret between us three, charmers. Our group barely fucking functions. Call it a coincidence held by favors and a few death threats. I’d rather not talk about things you could use against me, so I’ll talk about Seulgi and Irene. They’re… a team all on their own. The two secretive, shady ones. I still don’t know what Irene is looking for or what she even really does. But she’s a perceptive one. If it weren’t for her you would’ve been able to get away with your stupid cameras. And she wants to sell you two. Technically renting, but you get the drift. Specialized hosts. Pink hosts meant for companionship. A small little harem for a lucky person every night.”

“Is that why you forced us together?”

“Who knows?” Joy chuckled very briefly. “Some of us actually want to see you two together. She wants to do more with you. Spirit you away into the night to do god knows what. I can tell. She kills when she wants to, but I doubt she actually disposed of the ones who were like you.”

“The other three, right? What happened to them?”

“I can’t say for sure. They’re all supposed to be dead. Every one of them. I had my doubts since the first two. They fell in love without our interference. Then she snatched them away right before we decided they had to be killed. You would’ve gotten along with them.” She paused, apparently reminiscing. “Oh Sehun and Lu Han. I can just imagine them living a safe life thanks to that backstabbing bitch. They're probably in the same place as J-”

He nearly had a heart attack when the door was flung open, only worsening when Joy looked as horrified as he did. Wendy was in the doorway but it was her pressed face that had Joy leaping off of the bench and coming over, neither of them caring about Joy’s state of undress. After a shared whisper Joy angrily stomped over to her wardrobe and picked out a thin purple robe and headed out, making the same beckoning motion to make Taehyung and Jimin follow.

They went straight down the stairs but Taehyung froze when his eyes met with someone all too familiar standing in the front doorway. He almost yelled Hobi out of instinct but stopped himself just in time for Hoseok to continue his shtick. The biggest question was why he was there when he quit Bulletproof months ago, before Jungkook even disappeared.

Chapter Text

For the briefest of moments Hoseok faltered during his lengthy explanation of the difference between the effectiveness of cat sprays and cat toys, and that was when he and Taehyung locked eyes. Ever the professional, though, Hoseok quickly continued his explanation before the person in front of him, Irene, could get overly suspicious.

Taehyung averted his gaze, trying not to distract Hoseok any more than was necessary, instead honing in on the barely audible whispers between Joy and Wendy. He hadn’t realized they were already speaking while he was distracted with Hoseok, but he shuffled as closely as possible to them, trying to balance perfectly on that line of closeness and distance. Unfortunately, that took so long he was only able to catch the final snippet of the conversation, said by Joy.

“We dispose of him tomorrow.”

Wendy went back upstairs noisily, which struck him as odd seeing as they were normally silent or damn near close to it. When he came in the first time around he didn’t notice Seulgi until she was already staring at him, but with this kind of noise all eyes were drawn to the stairs, including Irene’s. Joy gave a small nod to Irene, who nodded back with a slight frown and disappeared out of the view of the stairs, probably into the back half of the house.

Joy strode forward confidently, her blasé attitude replaced with a smooth saunter. Taehyung grimaced openly when he saw Hoseok gawking at Joy, looking up and down, but the worst part was when he had the audacity to whistle at her. Joy seemed to pause at that as well but soldiered on, leaning on the doorframe. There was so much he wanted to say to Hoseok but with Joy in the way there was only one thing he could think to do. He patted Jimin on the shoulder and whispered in his ear. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Jimin murmured in disapproval but allowed him to come up nonetheless. Since running or jogging would definitely make enough noise to arouse suspicion he settled for a speed walk, nervously looking around at the doors nearby, gulping every time he had to turn a corner. His destination was his room, or more accurately, the bathroom. The nook behind the mirror was big enough to fit the maps, letter and envelope so he made full use of it, having stored the latter two in there. He extracted the letter and envelope and grabbed the makeup capsule that was still trapped under his waistband. He popped the top off and confirmed that he grabbed lipstick, one that was either cheap enough not to have a brand name or old enough to have the label worn off. Either meant that it was unlikely Joy would know of its disappearance too quickly. Thankfully the spiel about the catnip toys only covered the front side of the letter, which meant he had all of the back available for use.

Lipstick was slightly difficult to write with but highly pigmented and definitely easier to write with than powder or anything liquid, so he got to work without much complaint. Instead of writing complete sentences he condensed everything into a bullet point list and racked his brain for the most important details. The very first thing he wrote was a warning, urging all of the members to stay away from the house tomorrow. If a birthday party weren’t suspicious enough already, the fact that he overheard plans of disposing of Hoseok that day set off several klaxons in his head.

The rest were more hastily scribbled, details of what he found out about his various captors, the names of the two missing people Joy supplied him and the fact that Jungkook was here at one point in time but was still missing. After a bit of consideration he also decided to stuff the envelope with the maps alongside the letter. He already memorized everything, Jimin would know something was up if he consulted them and most importantly the team needed it to form a worthwhile plan.

The most challenging part was handing off the envelope to Hoseok, especially when he realized just how loud it was when he put the letter under his waistband again. He could walk normally but as soon as he moved too fast the plastic part made that distinct crinkling sound, almost as bad as the wrapping on sweets. He focused on his feet, staring down, one two, one two, successfully exiting and making his way toward the stairs. The stairs were a huge issue as well because it was virtually impossible to walk without the envelope sounding off. He shrugged and decided to come down as noisily as possible, his footfalls successfully masking the sound that would have drawn attention to him anyway.

The three he left behind on the ground floor were now seated in the living room, Hoseok still chatting on happily about catnip even though Joy and Jimin were more concerned with Taehyung’s late appearance. Joy interrupted Hoseok with a displeased, firm question shot straight at Taehyung. “What were you doing?”

He gulped but otherwise kept his composure. “I had to go to the bathroom.”

Before Joy had the chance to interrogate him further Hoseok jumped in with a question of his own. “Ah, is this the brother you were talking about? None of us have introduced ourselves, so I’ll start off. Hi, I’m J-Hope.”

Taehyung’s mouth twitched at the mention of Hoseok’s old codename but before he could say anything back Joy cut across and introduced all of them by herself. “My name’s Kim Yoo-Jung, my brother’s name is V and his boyfriend here is Mochi.”

He and Jimin both blinked rapidly at the sudden name changes but nodded dimly. Hoseok gave him a questioning look but he didn’t know how to respond so he just walked over and sat next to Jimin. After a period of silence Hoseok leaned forward and settled on a roundabout way of asking him what was actually going on.

“Boyfriends, huh? I didn’t think V and Mochi here were compatible when I saw them on the stairs. Are they really boyfriends?”

Joy’s cold side eye was a clear order. He scooted over to Jimin and put his arm around him, planting a smooch on his cheek just afterward. Hoseok was absolutely flabbergasted even as Joy smiled out of satisfaction. The final nail in the coffin was hammered in when Jimin rested his head on his shoulder, leaving Hoseok utterly confused. There was no coded language that translated into ‘Weren’t you still looking for Jungkook?’ so Hoseok was forced to move on without his question really being answered.

“Right, um, are any of you interested in anything I have to sell, then?” Hoseok’s entire demeanor was quiet, a sharp contrast to his usual loud and cheerful self. “If nobody’s interested I’ll just have to go back to headquarters.”

Joy put on a big smile and switched seats, right next to Hoseok. “That won’t be necessary. I happen to be the proud owner of a Bengal cat but he isn’t here right now. Tell you what. We’re going to have a birthday party for one of my friends here tomorrow. I’ll bring my cat along and you get to join in on the party.”

Hoseok slowly started getting back to his usual volume. “Isn’t that a bit quick? You seem like a lovely person, Ms. Yoo-Jung, but we’ve only just met.”

“You seem disappointed you’re being invited. I’m not the only one who’ll be there, you know. Since V and Mochi are together it’ll be you, me and four other girls.” Both of their smiles got even bigger and Taehyung could barely face the same direction when Joy rested her head on Hoseok’s shoulder, almost mimicking him and Jimin. “Wouldn’t you like that?”

“That doesn’t sound like a bad offer.”

Taehyung glared daggers at Hoseok, knowing full well he was setting himself and presumably the rest of the team up for a trap. Even if he chose not to come it was entirely possible for Joy to research him further. The only saving grace he had despite his connections was that he no longer worked for Bulletproof, but every second he spent here only added to the likelihood of his death. The only way Taehyung could warn him was if Joy was out of the picture, and he wasn’t about to bet on the odds of her just walking out and leaving them alone. He cleared his throat and started speaking as soon as he figured out a small plan.

“I think J-Hope is thirsty. We should probably get him a glass of water.”

He could tell Joy wanted to warp her face into a scowl but couldn’t because of Hoseok’s proximity. “And how exactly can you tell that?”

At the very least Hoseok seemed to be on the same wavelength, coughing slightly. He had a tendency to overdo it on the acting but he always came through on believability in crucial moments, even down to how he sounded when he backed Taehyung up. “I actually didn’t notice until now, but I am slightly parched. If it’s no trouble I’d like to ask for a glass.”

Joy froze with something like inner turmoil but nodded soon enough, making her way to the kitchen at a snail’s pace. Even though the point of the kitchen being locked was to hinder Taehyung he made full use of it. Since neither Taehyung nor Jimin were allowed in there and Joy really wanted to win Hoseok over, she was forced to go in herself, right into a blind spot. To make things more believable he also engaged in small talk with Jimin while waiting.

As soon as the kitchen door shut Taehyung got his hands off of Jimin and leapt off of the couch, explaining the most important thing to Hoseok with all of the urgency within him. “Don’t come tomorrow. They have weapons that they’re not afraid to use and five able bodies. They’ll be armed to the teeth and if you show your face anywhere near this neighborhood they’ll kill you. Why are you even here?”

“Are you kidding me? People were asking about Bulletproof, powerful people. They got details on everybody except me, because I quit. I was the only person who could come.”

“Point taken. But the birthday party’s a trap. They’re not afraid of killing all of you. In fact, tell everybody to sleep in a hotel. I wouldn’t put it past them to mess with people’s homes.”

“Alright, alright. What happened with Jungkook? Who is this Mochi guy?” Taehyung glanced behind him, taking in Jimin’s upset face. Right. It probably looked and sounded exactly like what it actually was, a precursor to an escape plan. He didn’t have the time to do a lengthy explanation or excuse yet, though.

“Another captive. Here are all the details you need.” He swore underneath his breath when he realized he forgot to write about the forced relationship, but he took the envelope out from his pants and handed it off to Hoseok nonetheless. Hoseok had only one hand on it when the door to the kitchen opened again, Joy with the glass of water in her hand as requested.

Even though she was shaking in barely contained anger Joy still stomped over with the glass, unwilling to drop the act until the very end. The corners of Joy’s mouth twitched repeatedly as she struggled to keep up her smile. “Could I ask what’s going on here?”

It was as if everything shut down. No matter how many words Taehyung shifted through his mouth couldn’t communicate them. The only thing he really felt capable of doing was licking his lips and staring blankly at Joy because he had absolutely no idea what to say. He felt the envelope being pushed back into his hands and he stared at it, dumbfounded.

Hoseok’s voice snapped him back to attention and he realized that his former coworker was actually giving an excuse. “V asked about my products so I decided to give him a catalogue along with my contact information. Not that it matters very much, since I’ll be coming over soon anyway.”

“A catalogue in an envelope?”

“My bag’s not that big so I carry them folded in envelopes instead of having an entire folder.”

“Whatever. He doesn’t need any of that. Just come over tomorrow and he’ll buy whatever he can. Take it back.”

“I was about to give one to Mochi too! Oh well, if you’re that insistent about it.” Taehyung’s mouth almost dropped open when Hoseok took the envelope from him with his usual cheerful smile, in plain sight of Joy of all things. “I’ll be heading off now, if that’s okay with you. Need to make the rounds in this neighborhood. Lots of cat owners who may need me.”

“You didn’t even drink your water! I was about to give you a tour of this house, too. Are you sure you can’t spare that much time?”

“This house took longer than five, sorry.” Hoseok got up and smoothed out his clothing. “Seeya tomorrow.”

Taehyung didn’t bother to look at Hoseok’s departure because he knew it would be speedy and without any goodbyes, so he went back over to Jimin and tried to hug him. Jimin reluctantly allowed him to do so for a good four or five seconds before he reciprocated. He swayed side to side, hoping that Jimin didn’t notice Joy’s brazen stare. He could only keep the hug going for so long and as soon as he broke it off Joy came over and grabbed him by the face, squeezing hard on his cheeks.

“Don’t you ever accept anything from anybody who comes here. Did he give you anything else? Give it to me.”

She neglected to lessen the pressure on his face so he was forced to speak in that awkward position. “I don’t have anything.”

“Oh yeah? It looked like you wanted whatever was in there. A glass of water? A glass of water, really?” She let go but quickly stepped back to throw the water in his face. “I swear to god you two are more trouble than you’re worth. How are we supposed to get more people in when you two fuck everything up?”

“I didn’t mean to!”

“You did anyway!” She shook her head. “You better be on your best behavior tomorrow. It’ll be less of a headache dealing with Irene than you messing our birthday party up. Do I make myself clear?”

He and Jimin answered automatically with a ‘Yes’.

Jimin couldn’t even wait until they were inside their room again, interrupting the trip on the way back at the top of the stairs. Jimin grabbed Taehyung's arm with a dark expression that didn’t match his gentle features at all. “Taehyung, I’m sick of you lying to me. I know that you were forced into this, but you need to suck it up. I’m your boyfriend and there’s no changing that. I can’t sleep at night knowing that you’re trying to get out of here and endangering my brother.”

“Look, it’s not what it looked like-”

“Really?” Taehyung could only look in disbelief as he was pushed up against the wall. His back and shoulder stung but what ached more was the pure sadness that wracked Jimin’s face. “You knew who that man was. You gave him the letter. How can I trust you with my brother’s life if you do stuff like that? It hurts. It hurts so much when you lie to me. And it’s not only because I care about Jihyun.”

A single tear streamed down Jimin’s face. Taehyung couldn’t believe what he was feeling, but some protective instinct within him flared up. Jimin used one of his hands in an attempt to wipe it away, only succeeding in making more spill from his eyes. Taehyung cupped the side of Jimin’s face with one hand, smiling when Jimin leaned into it automatically. There was a huge moral dilemma in front of him. He cared a lot about Jimin now and just spending a few days around him lessened his obsession with Jungkook quite a bit. But he still yearned for the freedom outside of this cage, for his entire world not to revolve around a single house for the rest of his life.

It was a hard choice at the beginning, especially when Jimin softened up and left himself vulnerable like that, but in the end he had friends to worry about who definitely missed him and were very much alive even ignoring everything about Jungkook. Jimin was a great choice for a boyfriend, but he couldn’t stay here when the two of them could be experiencing everything outside. So he had to lie. There was no other choice.

“I won’t pretend I didn’t lie to you. I did. But you have some of the details wrong. I wrote something in that letter, but it was a goodbye. I knew J-Hope as a coworker. I told him and everybody else not to come for me tomorrow. Not to come for me ever. I’m very happy with you. I… really like you.”

More tears dribbled down Jimin’s cheeks and he let go of Taehyung, dropping both hands to his side and allowing himself to sob. Taehyung wiped away the tears as they came for a few moments before drawing Jimin into a hug. “Are y-you sure?”

“I’m going to protect you and your brother. Don’t you worry about it. I’m here, I’m here.” He drew his head back a bit to kiss the side of Jimin’s face. “I promise.”

“Thank you.”

The dawn of the birthday party came with an unusual feeling, an eerie heaviness that shrouded everything. Insomnia was always a problem for Taehyung, especially when he caffeinated repeatedly, but this marked the first time in a long while where he felt like he shouldn’t get up from bed. Throughout the pain, injury and fear that wracked him over the past couple of days he never imagined he’d be petrified in such a way with no real threat.

After psyching himself up stubbornly, he got up and shook Jimin awake. If they weren’t up when breakfast was ready somebody always woke them up. After freshening up in the shower (and considering asking for a change of clothes) they headed downstairs where they noticed something quite unusual. Instead of the soft, whitish glow of the morning sunlight streaming through the windows, the sunlight was harsher and more yellow, indicating a time around noon.

Just as he was about to ask what happened or where the girls were he caught sight of them, all lying down on the floor of the living room. They were dressed identically in plain red dresses, the only exception being Wendy wearing red and white plaid, but the thing that disturbed him the most was that they were just strewn across the room. They were clearly alive because they blinked and breathed normally, but they were otherwise dead to the world. Only idiots would try to escape at a point like this, where every detail pointed to it being a trap, both for those inside wanting to get out- and those outside wanting to get in.

There were two plates set out for them on the dining table but instead of a breakfast food they had huge portions of jelly; one dark, almost black red and the other a lighter fern green. There weren’t any eating utensils around which meant the girls were being careful even on this strange day, so he shrugged, sat down in front of the red one and ate with his hands, Jimin following suit with his own jelly. It wasn’t bad, cherry flavor, but it was likely box mix gelatin from the odd aftertaste. To make matters worse, they also didn’t give him his usual round of painkillers that tended to come just after breakfast. He just had to deal with his throbbing shoulder.

Jimin yawned. “Is it alright if I go back to bed?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sure. I’ll be down here.”

He watched Jimin go up the stairs and drummed his fingers on his lap, already starting to feel more than creeped out by the girls who were just laying around two rooms over. He shook his head and decided to explore the rest of the house just in case there was anything special, but his plan was quickly foiled when he actually got to the door leading to the back half. The door usually swung open easily, never completely closed, always ajar just a tiny bit. Not only was the door fully shut, when he twisted the door knob he could tell that it was locked.

He looked behind him with a sudden pulse of paranoia, but none of his captors had moved from their position. He took a deep breath and scrambled back upstairs, where he tried the rest of the doors. The only door that was unlocked was the door to his room. It was terrifying and alarming because he remembered very clearly that Jimin was able to get into the trophy room and the pizza box collection without any trouble. He decided to trust in his gut feeling, to get the hell away from any of those doors, and retreated back into the safety of his room.

He immediately felt a lot safer but in exchange for fear he got restlessness, unable to fall asleep or keep himself in a single spot. If he sat down, his leg bounced repeatedly. If he laid down, he could hear his heartbeat in his ears. If he looked at Jimin, he got jealous of how easily the other could rest.

This cycle only continued until hours later, when the sun already set, Jimin was already awake and they were both hungry. The next time they came to the dining room all of the girls were seated with empty plates already set out. He reluctantly sat down with them, shivering when he was met with the bizarre silence. Even Irene, who always looked at them with purpose, seemed to be staring off into the distance past them. Jimin took the initiative and brought his seat closer to Taehyung, linking their hands together.

Whether it was only five minutes or thirty, it felt like an eternity before something happened. He jumped, all of the girls’ heads snapped to look past them and Jimin looked behind him warily when somebody knocked on the door. Taehyung's eyes bulged as he tried to guess who it was, hoping to dear god that it wasn’t anybody he knew, but every step the girls took toward the door gave him a different name, a different face. Was it Hoseok who decided to come in despite the warnings? Was it an associate sent by Namjoon? Was it Kookie?

The girls stood in a horizontal straight line, each of them facing the door, Irene in the middle and thus in a direct line to the door, but none of them stepped forward to actually answer the door. The knocking came again, harder. Whoever was behind the door wasn’t anybody Taehyung knew because he didn’t recognize their voice, but that only raised the question of who they actually were. “Pizza delivery’s here!”

Oh fuck. They probably figured out that Hoseok wasn’t coming after all and sprang for their usual. In fact, it was entirely possible that they planned on having a pizza boy along with or without Hoseok this whole time. He felt sick. He was so worried about the people who were already inside and Bulletproof that he forgot about the other targets. An innocent person could die because he convinced his team not to come in. It was a dreadful feeling, sinking to the very bottom of his stomach.

Irene moved forward and everybody seemed to relax, Seulgi crossing her arms, Yeri shifting her weight and from what he could see of Joy it looked like she was smiling. Thanks to how the door was hinged when it opened he could see the pizza boy standing just outside of the doorway. Jimin’s hair was definitely light blond but this person took it a step further, removing almost all traces of yellow, leaving him platinum blond. He continued the trend by being the palest person he saw, looking as white as Jimin while he was bleeding out. He was also remarkably short, still taller than all of the girls except for Joy but nowhere near Taehyung or Jimin. Those were definitely eye-opening details but the part Taehyung couldn’t keep his eyes off of was his face, mainly because he looked almost exactly like Yoongi.

He didn’t know all that much about Yoongi’s private life because he didn’t share, but as far as he knew Yoongi wasn’t supposed to have a little brother. Even so, there was a person who looked like a shorter carbon copy of him. To make matters worse, he couldn’t see a nametag on the guy anywhere. For all he knew this person was Min something and he had no way of determining it, and worse, no way of stopping what was about to happen.

“That’ll be 40,000 won for everything.”

Irene produced the money but didn’t give it to the delivery boy immediately. She smiled and patted his head, much to his annoyance. When it was clear that Irene wasn’t going to stop patting his head just out of common decency he reached up and grabbed her arm. “Ma’am, you can’t touch me like that. You have to pay for your pizza.”

“It’s my birthday today.” So all this time it was Irene’s birthday. Taehyung’s guess was Seulgi or Yeri, but it explained why she was the only one speaking. “My friends and I would love to have a boy around to keep us company. All the boys in here are our relatives, so they’re out of the question.”

“Not interested. Look, do I have to call the cops or something? I can see you have the money in your hand.”

“I’ll pay you the regular 40,000 won and 40,000 extra tip if you come in.” Jimin flinched and looked away, the excitement present on the delivery boy’s face making it obvious that he fell for it hook, line and sinker. For Jimin it must have been even more irresistible. “We’re really lonely.”

“You got yourself a deal. Where should I set the pizza down?”

“Come in and I’ll show you.”

Even though he knew full well that none of the girls had a weapon he was on edge the entire time, waiting for one of them to grab their unsuspecting victim, but it never happened. They lead him to the living room, popped open the pizza box and got the party started. Since Taehyung and Jimin weren’t invited over, they weren’t about to risk going there, both out of the fear that they’d be punished for it and the fear that they’d be dragged into the celebrations. Jimin faced forward again, dropping the volume of his voice even though the celebrants were chatting loudly.

“I don’t like this.”

“Neither do I. Do you want to go upstairs?”

“I don’t know. I’m afraid that if we let them out of our sight they’re going to do something horrible to him.”

“It’s not about if they will or won’t, it’s about when they’ll do it. They’re not the type to hide brutality in front of us. They want to kill him and they will kill him unless we do something and we can’t.”

“I feel really bad.”

“Just think of yourself. Think of me. Think of Jihyun. We’ll tough through whatever they have to throw at us.”

“Let’s just wait a while.”

Jimin’s insistence on staying proved to be the smart thing to do because roughly half an hour later everybody moved to the dining room. Joy directed the delivery boy to the opposite end of the table to Taehyung and Jimin, where Irene usually sat, making it impossible for the three of them to communicate without everybody else noticing. Jimin shook his head and leaned back into his chair, surrendering at the first obstacle. The pizza boy eyed them with the same awkward wariness, clearly unsure of what to say or do. The seating arrangement from there on seemed to be random, since Joy usually didn’t sit near them but Wendy did, leaving Irene as the only one left standing. Her seat was to the right of the delivery boy’s, deliberately placed closer than the one on the left.

Irene gathered up all of the empty plates and moved to the kitchen and back rapidly, each time setting a plate of jelly in front of each person, not including herself. She didn’t stop when each plate was set out, instead ducking back into the kitchen for a little while before appearing once again with many strips of black cloth.

“We’re going to play a game. It’s nearly ten o’clock. At exactly ten I want all of you to start eating your jelly. Whoever finishes first gets a special prize.” She trailed her fingers lightly over the pizza boy’s face, who shuddered in excitement. “So nobody tries to cheat I’ll be refereeing... and you all will be wearing blindfolds.”

Taehyung flinched, drawing the delivery boy’s attention to him. After they locked their eyes in mutual understanding the boy looked back up at Irene worriedly. Irene’s response was to pat his head again and blindfold the girls first, disarming the delivery boy but only heightening the sense of anticipation for Taehyung. The blindfold was very soft, obviously expensive, and he wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out to be some sort of velvet. It was sort of distracting to begin with, that added weight over his face and that slight tickle, but soon enough he was focusing on his most useful sense in this situation, his hearing. Irene’s voice came out of the darkness crisp and clear, so he made sure to note where exactly it was coming from.

“Ready?” That came from… directly behind him. He tensed up, resisting every urge he had not to turn around. The fact that he couldn’t see blew something that was already an issue into a complete and utter emergency. “Go!”

There was the sound of eating from around the room, but there was something completely wrong about it. He knew exactly what a room full of people cramming their food down their throats sounded like, that’s what happened every time Bulletproof ate out. This wasn’t nearly loud enough. He concentrated on what he could hear, determining that Jimin was eating wholeheartedly and that somewhere at the other end of the table someone else was doing the same. If the relative quiet wasn’t enough to tip him off, the slight creak of the floorboards off to the left did.

It was absolutely scary how close to silent their captors could be when they wanted. He was willing to bet that none of them were actually eating and were now making their way from the table. After a solid minute he took a calculated risk and untied his blindfold, blinking as his eyes readjusted to the light that seemed even brighter. In fact, it was brighter- the chandelier appeared to have two settings and this one was bright white, a definite change from the dull yellow glow it was always set to. He glanced around frantically, feeling himself start to hyperventilate as he caught the girls coming back into the room, now with red crowns on their head. Worse yet, they had that blank look from earlier, giving him flashbacks to Yeri catching him out of the door.

His eyes immediately shot to Yeri who was holding a weapon, but instead of the crossbow he was nearly crippled with, she wielded a submachine gun. If she wanted to she could easily gun all of them down right at that moment. The girls split into duos except for Yeri, each pair going for their own person. Irene and Seulgi ripped the blindfold off of the confused pizza boy and grabbed his arms. Joy and Wendy were more gentle with Jimin, removing his blindfold and giving him verbal instructions. Taehyung got up before he was asked, met with the familiar feel of a gun barrel pressed to the back of his head.

The delivery boy thrashed around for only about a minute before Irene slammed her knee into his stomach, making the poor boy double over and gag. Everything about this situation fired off unfavorable memories from the days prior. They escorted everybody through to the back half of the house, into the trophy room and finally into the piano room.

All of the curtains were drawn, which meant the room was pitch black when they got there. The darkness was suffocating, enough to make him gulp several times. With a strike of a match the room was illuminated the tiniest bit. He couldn’t tell who was handling it until there was more light, so he watched the flickering light move toward where he remembered the piano was. The piano was right where it was supposed to be, but there were a multitude of candles that were placed on it. The candles were steadily lit one by one and he could see more of the room and more importantly where everybody was. Joy was the one lighting the fires, stubbornly using more and more matchsticks instead of using the already lit candles, but he wrote this off as something meticulously planned and deliberately done.

There were enough candles that the entire room was cast in the yellow-orange glow when all of them were lit. Strangely enough, there was a huge area of piano devoid of candles, the middle, but he wasn’t left questioning that for long. Irene took off her shoes and left her place by the delivery boy, soon enough climbing onto the piano, barely avoiding stepping on the flames with her bare feet.

Yeri nudged him just as Seulgi dragged the nameless victim forward and Joy asked Jimin to go to the very end of the room, toward the storage room. It was only when all three of them were there that the girls went back to the piano, although Yeri had her sights- and submachine gun- on them at all times. Seulgi, Joy and Wendy all started circling around the piano and he finally understood what was going on. The thought that came to him was shocking but completely sensible for what he was witnessing, so much so that he gasped and said what he was thinking aloud. “Black magic?”

Jimin looked at him like he was crazy. “What are you talking about?”

He shook his head, struck by the utter senselessness of it all. “What else is the point of this? It’s a ritual. I don’t believe in magic, but other people do. They do things like this. They’re absolutely crazy.”

The trio circling the piano kept up their pattern twenty or so more times before they stopped in place. Seulgi left her spot and made to pick up the pizza boy again when out of nowhere the victim retaliated. Taehyung didn’t expect the guy to come out swinging in the first place, so he jumped when he came out at such a speed.

It all went by so quickly that he couldn’t process what was going on in the moment. For the first few seconds all he could remember was Seulgi’s grimace, a bang and a heavy thud. Then screaming. Horrible, horrible screaming. On the floor was the delivery boy in the fetal position, clutching at his thigh and screaming bloody murder. Taehyung moved his hands up to his ears in an attempt to block it out, but it only served to leave him alone with his unregulated thoughts. He knew he was fucked up in so many different ways when the first thing he thought was ‘It’s just a bullet wound’.

Piecing together what the fuck just happened he came to the conclusion that Seulgi was able to see what was coming and got out of the way just in time for Yeri to aim and take a clear shot.

He noticed Jimin sinking to the floor and he dropped to his knees without hesitation to check on his boyfriend. He had no way of telling if Jimin was in shock so he went with a drastic measure just in case. He stood up and threw the door to the storage room open, not caring that he risked being shot by Yeri just for doing so. He used all of the strength within him to pick Jimin up, crying out in pain when his shoulder exploded in waves of pure agony. His knees buckled underneath him and he nearly dropped Jimin but he gritted his teeth, rushed into the storage room and let Jimin down as gently as possible before he flopped to the floor himself, holding his shoulder much like the delivery boy did with his leg.

The position in which he landed offered him a full view of what was going on since he wasn’t able to close the door on the way in. Irene got off of the piano and stood by the curtains, watching with beady eyes. The three girls who circled the piano picked the delivery boy up and tossed him onto the piano haphazardly, causing him to land on the fires with several parts of his body. The screaming only got worse as he attempted to roll off of the piano only for the nearest girl, Seulgi, to punch him and roll him back toward the middle. After more failed attempts to get away from the piano he eventually stayed in the middle, crying bitter, fat tears that showed just how scared he was. He came in brash and confident and he was reduced to nothing just like that.

Taehyung was basically looking at himself.

A good number of the candles were extinguished just by being smothered by the pizza boy’s body while some just went out naturally, but that worked in the favor of their captors. The girls around the piano extinguished each candle until they were once again bathed in darkness. There was whimpering both behind and in front of Taehyung as he struggled to adjust to the sudden oppressive darkness once again. He cursed even more when Irene threw open the curtains, bathing the room in clear, bright moonlight.

There was something glinting in Irene’s hands and it didn’t take long for him to realize what it was when Irene so clearly showed it off. It was a wicked looking dagger, short but no doubt deadly, decorated in a way that proved it was none other than a ceremonial knife. Irene tossed it from hand to hand, allowing him to see how intricately carved it was. Throughout all of this he didn’t even notice Yeri’s disappearance until she came back with an equally shiny two-handled saw and a basic one handed saw.

Already expecting what was to come he sat up and dragged himself toward Jimin. “Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look.” He repeated that mantra over and over again, causing the other to curl up even more into a ball in distress, but it was all for good reason. Anything was better for Jimin than seeing what was about to happen. Oddly enough, he never stopped to consider the same for himself despite the door’s capability to close. In a disgustingly morbid way he wanted to see what they were going to do. Looking back he saw Wendy administering another unfamiliar drug, yet another different color to the one that immobilized and the one that knocked him out. If he had to guess, it was probably to prevent unconsciousness at the very least. That was the bare minimum if they really intended to use saws.

The pizza boy also figured out what was coming and struggled again, but he was absolutely no match for five girls. Each girl had their own limb, pinning the boy down to the piano underneath him, except for Irene, who placed the knife on the windowsill and picked up the one handed saw. She held it up against the moonlight just as she did with the dagger before she placed the saw over the top of the boy’s right leg. She made a point of making eye contact with Taehyung as she started to move the saw, biting into the flesh of her victim.

At first the saw was like a knife, well-sharpened, cutting into the skin with a clean red line that soon bubbled with dribbles of red. Irene ignored every plea that the boy threw at her and went down with more force, really digging in the teeth of the saw past the layer of skin and straight into the muscle. It was tough work for anybody, even Irene. She broke a sweat but worked dutifully, not even pausing to wipe the sweat from her forehead or acknowledge the screams that were deafening even all the way to the storage room.

She got about a third of the way through when she stopped, considered and pulled the saw out. The wound was absolutely horrifying, not just a laceration but a gaping gash that spurted blood at random intervals. Thanks to the teeth of the saw the skin and muscle wasn’t really cut- it was torn, creating the sickening sight of something like pink and red mashed potatoes within the leg. Taehyung wasn’t the medical expert in the house but it was pretty easy to see that walking with that leg ever again would be impossible.

Irene threw the saw behind her and nodded to Seulgi, next picking up the two handled saw. Now that there was no need to worry about one of the limbs they could use the two handled one without being kicked, but Taehyung knew that the real issue was sawing enough before the boy bled out. There was no buffer period, no span of time for their victim to even breathe. The two went all out, pulling back and forth like a well oiled machine. If the first wound was bloody, this one was a blood fountain, drenching the piano and dyeing the floor red. This time the two weren’t satisfied with just an incision, either. As soon as they hit bone they took the saw out and put it over a fresh section of skin that was very close to the first.

By this time the screams faded as the boy went into shock, but that didn’t stop them from completing what they were doing. With a massive amount of force and teamwork they were able to cut out an entire portion of the leg and extract it. Seulgi smiled and held the revolting piece of meat before throwing it, more toward Taehyung than at him, landing shy of the door but still far too close for comfort. The piece of flesh made a repulsive splat in front of him and he just couldn’t take it anymore. The uneasy feeling he had at the pit of his stomach surged up his throat and he could feel himself vomiting. He barely had time to move away into the corner before everything he ate came back up, leaving his mouth in a torrent of red chunks. If he hadn’t eaten red jelly earlier he’d be concerned, but he couldn’t think of that for very long because he heaved again, almost puking a second time just remembering that vile splatter.

He moved himself back over to Jimin, who thankfully took his advice and saw nothing, still tucked away into himself. The meat was still on the floor but he refused to look at it. There were far more important matters concerning the victim anyway. Specifically the fact that the boy was now lying down on his back, head just past the edge of the piano, tilted down, exposing his throat. They were now in direct line of sight of eachother.

Taehyung hoped that the universe had some kind of mercy for this boy but it did not, because the boy coughed, a thick stream of saliva and blood running down his face and into his eye, which he tried to blink away in a futile effort. His eyes were almost devoid of emotion, but there was one last light of hope steadily dying within them. He begged for help with his eyes.

He was dying. Taehyung couldn’t help. It was horrible, but it was the truth.

Irene stood next to him, ceremonial dagger glinting in her hand once more. During the time Taehyung was puking his guts out the other girls left, taking with them the saws. In the same tone Yeri used when she fired through his shoulder Irene spoke one last time to finish this horrid night up.

“Peek-a-boo.”

He knew what was supposed to happen when a person’s throat was cut. It was for a case, long, long ago. Death by throat cutting was only merciful if the arteries were cut, making them lose consciousness. He didn’t think much of it back then because the guy was already dead. It was a completely different matter here, when he could see how bad it could really be to die that way. Irene purposefully missed the arteries. He could tell from that fucking look on her face that she missed them on purpose.

The pizza boy started gasping, delayed reaction throughout his entire body causing him to flop around uselessly, spasming more than moving. Because of how he was positioned none of his blood was moving toward his lungs, but that was only a secondary detail. With his trachea cut he couldn’t breathe. He was struggling until the very last second, battling through his death throes. Taehyung knew that when he finally stilled, dead, he suffocated in agony.

He knew how this person died, when he died and who killed him, but he had nothing else. He didn’t even know his name. Losing Jungkook cemented the idea that everybody cared for somebody into his mind. He could feel tears forming in his eyes, his entire body threatening to pass out. He was in charge of a legacy and he didn’t even know his name.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Jimin starting to turn around. He rushed to his side and wrapped his arms around Jimin, whispering that same mantra that barely held his sanity together. “Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look.”

The two of them stayed there for hours, wallowing in sadness and despair well after the corpse was taken away and the mess cleaned. It was only when Taehyung felt like he was about to collapse from exhaustion that he finally stood up, walking out of the storage and into the piano room. If he had any doubts of escaping now, they were all gone. He was going to do everything it took to get out of here with Jimin.

He pressed himself up against the window, staring at the night sky above the empty houses. The moon shone down on him with all its brilliance and if he deluded himself just enough he could tell himself that that celestial was somehow going to help him. Anything to get out, even promising on a full moon.

Chapter Text

Even though every bone in Taehyung’s body was protesting and his very instinct was to throw himself onto the bed, he stayed up to comfort Jimin. He had some peace of mind knowing that he successfully shielded his boyfriend from seeing the gory mess, but he knew that he heard everything. Taehyung only got over the screaming that was no doubt howling around in Jimin’s mind because he saw much worse.

Jimin sat on the edge of the bed, holding his head in his hands. If his eyes weren’t squeezed shut they were sporadically open, lost, seeing things that weren’t there, trying to fathom exactly what Taehyung actually saw. They didn’t need any words between them. Everything that needed to be said hung in the air already and speaking would just take all the meaning out of the tragedy. Taehyung sat next to Jimin, pulling him into a big hug that he knew both of them needed.

There was a bond between people who went through trauma together that couldn’t be replicated. He loved Jungkook with years of being together behind him, but he never did anything like this with Jungkook. As a happy couple they didn’t have to deal with life threatening situations or torture. He did all of that with Jimin.

Jimin eventually tired of their prolonged embrace and hefted himself up more onto the bed. Taehyung welcomed the action, thinking that they were going to sleep, but Jimin simply adjusted himself and laid his head down on the other’s lap. Taehyung honestly didn’t mind all that much despite being full gear for sleeping just seconds ago, instead busying himself playing with Jimin’s hair. He loved playing with hair, both giving and receiving, and Jimin’s hair was lovely. He could already feel his hair hardening, losing its softness due to the nameless shampoo he was forced to use, but each strand of blond hair he touched was like silk.

He could feel Jimin relaxing underneath him, still a bit tense but remarkably less so. He traced imaginary patterns just above Jimin’s scalp, twisting, curling here and there. He was so focused that he was surprised when he saw that Jimin was laughing softly. The corners of his mouth rose automatically and he tilted his head. “What’s so funny?”

“You looked mesmerized. I’ve never seen someone so interested in my hair.”

“It’s great. How did you manage to get it so soft?”

Jimin brushed his own hair, testing it for himself. “I couldn’t afford any, but I knew a woman who gave it to me and my brother for free. Said we deserved better than what we had.”

“It’s nothing like mine. It’s not damaged at all.”

“Really?” Jimin reached up with his hand. Taehyung hunched over to make it easier for Jimin and giggled at the feeling of his hair being ruffled. “It’s not that bad. I like it.”

“You must have a thing for damaged hair.”

“It’s not the hair I’m attracted to.”

He took some time to choose his words, carefully mulling over where he could take the conversation. “How are you holding up?”

Jimin’s smile dropped, looking a lot glummer. “I want to say that I’m fine, but we’re nowhere near the people we used to be, huh?”

“Don’t think of it like that.”

“It’s true, though. I would have never stood by while someone was in so much pain, but there’s no point anymore. If you try to help, that’s just putting yourself in the line of fire.”

“That’s- well, that’s true, but are you willing to let them do those things for the rest of your life?”

“I already answered that question, didn’t I? There’s no choice for us.” Jimin spoke as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “We let them do it and we’re happy.”

He resisted the urge to shake his head at that. “If you were given the chance to get out of here, would you take it?”

The pause was infinitely worrying for Taehyung. “Yes. If I could get out of here with you that would be a dream. But I’ve spent too long trying to chase dreams. I’m ready for the rest of my life here.”

The conversation stalled and the hair playing resumed. Eventually they tired of that as well, flipping off the light switch before getting into their usual sleeping positions. He tried to surrender himself to the darkness, but his brain was preoccupied with one last question he wanted to ask. His eyes scanned over the patterns of the wood ceiling, trying to figure out what he wanted the answer to be. His voice was barely above a whisper, quiet even in the tucked away alcove that was their room.

“Do you think we could have made it together? Outside there, our normal selves. An obsessive journalist and a guy with four jobs.”

“Mmm.” He could feel Jimin shifting around. Thanks to the darkness he couldn’t see Jimin’s face very well, but he didn’t need to. He knew that Jimin was thinking long and hard about it. “I don’t know, honestly. I would like to think so. But even if we met I would’ve been a burden to you.”

Taehyung took so long to respond that that was the last thing Jimin said for the night, drifting off to sleep. He could see Jimin’s eyes flutter to a close and the deep, even breaths he took but he shared his thoughts aloud nonetheless.

“I would’ve been the real burden.”

When he awoke the next day to a splitting headache, a sickly state of lethargy and someone roughly shaking him he could tell that he didn’t get anywhere near the amount of sleep he needed. He tried to pretend he was asleep but that was virtually impossible since he wasn’t really being shaken so much as having his arm tugged. Without painkillers it really fucking hurt, so he had no choice but to unclench his eyes and glare at whoever had the gall to wake him up so early in the morning.

Irene looked at him expectantly, her hair up in a ponytail and back in her usual way-too-glittery dress. He groaned and looked to his side, finding Jimin still asleep. He started to shake Jimin before Irene grabbed his hand and put her finger over her lips in a shushing gesture. He pointed his most dreary look at her, unwilling to start with the bullshit so early in the morning. “What do you want?”

“I wanted to speak to you.”

He blinked the last remnants of sleep from his eyes before he rubbed them. Irene and Yeri were the only people he’d rush for, coming off easily as the most dangerous out of the entire group. Yeri consciously made herself out as the violent one, showing off her willingness to shoot not once, but twice and with two different weapons to boot. Despite all of that he still considered Irene more dangerous because she didn’t spring for the violent option even though she could. The back of his head still throbbed with a dull ache that was thoroughly blanketed by the painkillers and overshadowed by the much more recent shoulder injury, but it served as a heavy reminder that she was the first to harm him.

Coming down the stairs it wasn’t quite as early as he expected. If his estimation was correct it was around noon again, though it was before rather than after like yesterday. People were reasonably up and about to their usual business, which was unusual compared to most people. Joy and Wendy were in the living room, handling some of the most massive and clear diamonds and gems he’d ever seen. Each one alone could buy his entire apartment complex and then some. Yeri was in the dining room, eyes glued to a cellphone. Even with the sound muted and from across the room Taehyung could tell she was playing a game. Irene lead him past her and he snuck a glance, confirming the obvious: she was playing an FPS.

That momentary lapse of concentration just staring at the screen and missing the times when he could play games like that was enough for Irene to unlock the door to the kitchen and drag him in. His eyes widened at the sight of a new room, though they only got bigger when he saw the entirety of the room. On his left side there was everything he expected to make the food they’d all been eating; fridge, a multitude of cabinets, stove and oven, the works. If he had more time he would have questioned who actually prepared all of the food but the right side caught his attention more than anything else.

The rest of the room was dominated by two couches not dissimilar to the ones in the living room. They were each pressed up against the wall nearest to them, either left or right, perfectly parallel to eachother, framing a small table in between them. On the table sat a lone mug, red in color and emblazoned with a white heart made up of dots. Couches weren’t usually part of a kitchen, but they weren’t the most interesting thing in the room. That title went to the metal grate that was built into the wall just behind the couches, lined up with the table in the center. If the shape and odd placement weren’t dead giveaways for what it was, the clearly defined brick around it stood out against the wood. It was easy to name it as some kind of furnace, although for what he didn’t know.

He doubted it was a crematorium, one because it probably wouldn’t be able to get hot enough and two because it would smell absolutely horrible. His best guess was either a fireplace for the winter months or some kind of pizza oven to fit in with their obsession for delivery boys of that specific food. He still had no clue what that was about.

Irene sat comfortably on the farther wall’s couch, patting the seat next to her. He followed her instruction wordlessly, still scanning the room for anything important. There were windows. That was about it. That was all he could learn from gleaning just from sight and his window plan had long since been tried and failed miserably.

Irene folded her hands across her lap. “How are things between you and Jimin?”

“Oh, you mean aside from ‘celebrating your birthday’? Thanks for that, by the way. Thanks to you he had to hear all of that. How am I supposed to care for him when you do things like that?”

Irene went unfazed throughout his entire spiel, nodding along as if encouraging him to speak more. It was one of the strangest exchanges he ever had with someone. “You could’ve gone upstairs and missed the whole thing.”

“Jimin asked to stay behind. We had no idea what you were going to do, so you can’t pin this on us.”

“Things are going well. You stopped hesitating.” Irene’s lopsided smile was disarming all by itself. He caught himself thinking that Irene should smile more because it suited her and he had to slap himself mentally for that. “This is what I wanted. You genuinely care about Jimin now.”

“I always cared about him!”

“And you were always a poor liar.” He could feel his temple throbbing already and it was steadily worsening. “That’s neither here nor there. You’re ready for what I have in store for you.”

“I will strangle you by myself if you think I’m going to let you lay a single fucking finger on Jimin.”

“That’s not my intent.” She shook her head, exaggerating each emotion and opinion behind her statements. It was condescending without being overly condescending, something he had never seen before. Yoongi always laid in on thick, Jungkook was much more subtle about his jabs. “You’re going to be touching him. I’ll be filming all of it.”

“I’m not doing anything inappropriate!” He could feel his face heating up. He didn’t want to throw a tantrum but Irene was so easy to get mad at which only played into her condescension. “We’re not doing that on film, we’re not doing that for your audience, we’re not even close to doing that for ourselves!”

Irene shrugged all of his words off, furrowing her brow ever so slightly. “I just want to interview the two of you.”

That’s how, right after he and Jimin had breakfast, they ended back in the bedroom on someone else’s terms. It was a while since somebody invaded their precious space, but Irene was there, proudly transparent about what she wanted. So transparent that she blatantly stood with a high-end shoulder mounted camcorder. As always there was a back-up just in case things got awry and the person present today was Wendy, armed with a tomahawk.

Irene was by no means a picky director, thankfully, allowing them to sit on the edge of the bed. While she wasn’t very concerned with the setting she was more than prepared with questions, all aimed at couples and actually quite pertinent. He managed to learn a lot about Jimin just from those deceptively simple questions, particularly one that stood out amongst its already capable peers.

“Do you have any exes?”

The question momentarily stung as he thought of Jungkook, but he didn’t write him off as an ‘ex’ just yet. He bypassed the question with a ‘No’ without elaborating as he did with other answers. When the time came for Jimin to give his own answer, his boyfriend looked away sheepishly.

“There was… one person. It didn’t really work out.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I thought you never had a kiss before me.”

“That’s the point. Uh, we never actually got to that stage.”

From then on the questions kept coming and they just got more and more comfortable. Nearing the end they were laughing and joking around with eachother. It came to a point where it seemed like Wendy wasn’t there and Irene was just a faceless cameraman or interviewer. A question about their closeness lead to him answering by snuggling Jimin and smooching him on the cheek. Jimin braved up and did the same thing to him and it all devolved back into laughter.

It was a sharp contrast from everything he expected of this house so far. If it weren’t for the occasional pang of pain from his shoulder he would have sworn that it was all a dream. Just as he thought about it they were given the final question.

“What’s your definition of cheating?”

That one sentence was enough to shatter the entire illusion, bringing him painfully back into the present where Jungkook was a big question mark. He looked down, unable to force the frown off of his face. Jimin looked visibly concerned, though he knew exactly why and thus couldn’t really do anything about it.

“I… When two people are in a healthy relationship then any romantic or sexual activity is cheating. The problem is,” He trailed off again and sighed heavily, rubbing his temples. “The problem is when it’s not a healthy relationship anymore. If a person changes, then the relationship changes. I-If one person were to no longer be present, then-”

Jimin patted and rubbed his back. “I think that’s enough. I have the same opinion.”

Irene stopped filming and left along with Seulgi, but he couldn’t get the feeling of close scrutiny off of him, like a thousand eyes were staring at him. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling.

The next day mellowed out considerably, only undercut by the anticipation of Bulletproof storming in at any second, which they ended up not doing. Irene was no longer shying away from speaking to him or taking her claim on his time.  Unlike the others who used both him and Jimin she had a clear preference for him. This marked the second time he was pulled into the kitchen to have a one-on-one with Irene.

Irene was a lot more casual this time around, cozily sipping at her cup while he tapped the arm of the couch, waiting for her to say something. She didn’t take overly long to actually begin speaking, thankfully setting her cup aside to explain what they were doing there again.

“How are things between you and Jimin?”

“You said that exact same thing yesterday. You didn’t have to mention him- Am I allowed to say my previous boyfriend’s name?”

“Only Joy fusses about that. ‘Jungkook’ isn’t a forbidden word to me.”

“Why are you like this? Why do you keep reminding me of Jungkook?”

Irene’s prim smile twitched minutely. “Don’t you think this is all very convenient for Jimin?”

It took a few seconds for the sudden conversation shift to register, but when it came he caught full wind of the implication she was trying to get across. The implication was just ridiculous, though. “Excuse me?”

Irene paused again, mulling over his words using the convenience of her mug to stall. It was something that Taehyung used to do with his phone on a daily basis, but stripped barren as he was he had no choice but to wait for Irene’s call. She took longer than usual, actually finishing her cup. She got up and headed to the sink. He watched her back keenly and looked around for some way to take advantage of her negligence, but as soon as he thought of something she had already deposited her cup and turned around. It turned out that he was the negligent one, because the first thing he noticed about Irene while she was walking back was that she held something. He had no idea where she got them and thus couldn’t look for it later.

As she sat back down there was an intense session of prolonged eyecontact before she finally revealed what she had in her hands: photographs.

He had no idea what he expected from them- corpses of his fellow Bulletproof members, maybe Jungkook- but this was certainly not it. They were pictures of Jimin and Seulgi, though not in any perilous or violent situation. In fact, this was the opposite. They looked comfortable together. He grabbed the topmost photo from Irene’s hand and flinched, expecting some kind of punishment, but she just looked at him with the exact same bemused excitement. In the photo Jimin and Seulgi were looking away from the camera, seated next to eachother. It wasn’t that much, so he moved on to the second photo, snatching it as quickly as he did the first.

This one was a lot more damning, featuring Seulgi laughing next to Jimin, who seemed to be taking the picture himself because his arm stretched toward the camera and out of frame. Unlike the delicate blond locks he had gotten accustomed to, Jimin had rougher black hair almost totally hidden underneath a hat.

Irene must have anticipated the exact order he’d be seeing these in, because the third and final photo outmatched the first and second by leagues and bounds. Jimin had his arms around Seulgi, hugging her from behind, clearly laughing at something off to the right together. He could feel his blood boiling. He frantically pored over every detail he could pick apart on the photos, but he couldn’t find anything. They were either flawlessly edited or the much worse alternative, completely real.

His jaw was locked tight and he had to fight the urge to crumple up all of the photos in a blind rage. He handed the photos back to Irene and leaned back into the sofa, covering his face with one hand. “Photoshop.”

“I wasn’t aware Photoshop had the ability to take pictures.”

“What the fuck do you want from me? I’m genuinely asking here.” His eyes started watering, less because he actually wanted to cry and more out of sheer frustration. “I don’t know what to believe anymore. It’s so irritating when you think you have everything figured out and then somebody fucks it all up. You have anything more to say? Go ahead and tell me that Jungkook’s dead and I don’t have a purpose anymore. Break me already. I don’t care.”

“Talk to Jimin. That’s all I want. You can have the photos, they’re yours to keep.”

Taehyung could be impulsive at the best of times and tried his best to rein himself in when others couldn’t, but to deny himself this bout of anger was virtually impossible. He accepted the photos and went straight upstairs, clambering up noisily. He saw Joy giving him a dirty look from her bedroom door when he scaled the steps, but she was irrelevant at the moment.

He opened the door to the sight of Jimin lying on the bed, face-down. Jimin gave him an amiable smile. “What were you up to?”

“Finding out the goddamn truth. Why did you keep this from me?”

“Keep what from you?”

Something snapped within him and he threw the photos at Jimin’s face, steaming while Jimin sat up in alarm. “How could you do this to me? I trusted you!” Jimin reached for one of the photos and visibly reacted to it, slowly moving his eyes back toward Taehyung. Jimin got off on the other side of the bed, tensed up considerably. It was obvious he was looking for an escape route.

“Taehyung, let me explain. I know you’re feeling angry right now but if you just give me a few seconds then I can-” Jimin stopped midsentence and bolted in a panic into the bathroom, where he very nearly closed the door on Taehyung. Taehyung got there just in time for him to kick his foot into the gap, stopping the door just short. He barely noticed the pain when he was surging with adrenaline, his mind focused on just one thing- getting inside that fucking bathroom.

He laid all of his body weight on the door, knowing full well that Jimin was doing the same. He pressed hard, succeeding in gaining a few precious inches. He let up the slack a bit, letting Jimin regain the lost ground, before he rammed the door, throwing Jimin backward and onto the floor. He entered and slammed the door behind him, uncaring of the noise. All that mattered right now was getting the truth out of Jimin.

“Oh yeah? You’d explain it all to me? Fucking priceless coming from you. How much of it was a lie, Jimin? All of it? I’ve tried my hardest to care for you and this is the thanks I get?”

“Just two minutes. Please give me two minutes.”

“Start talking.”

Jimin scrambled up off of the floor. “Seulgi… was my ex. She was the daughter of a family friend so my mother thought it would be good to pair us up together. She was a good person-”

“Bullshit.” He took a step forward, making Jimin press himself against the wall, once again looking like a cornered wild animal.

“I’m telling the truth! This was years ago and she was a decent person. We broke up because I realized I wasn’t interested in girls. I told Joy, remember? We parted ways and we stopped talking with eachother. I have no idea what happened to her, but when I came in here she said it wasn’t personal. It was only because of my job!”

“Wow. You made it sound even more convenient. This is the second time you lied to me. Does Jihyun even exist or was this a ploy you set up with your girlfriend!?”

Jimin looked away briefly before shaking his head. “Does Jungkook exist?”

“What the fuck did you just say to me?”

“I’m saying that I haven’t seen or heard from Jungkook at all, which is less than I can say for Jihyun.”

That was the last straw. His anger flaring up again, he pinned Jimin to the wall, though with a much more violent option than grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. His hands met supple flesh as he gripped Jimin’s fragile-looking throat. Just five seconds. Just five seconds and he could knock Jimin out. Five minutes and he could kill him.

There was so much anger that made its way into the core of his very being, an irrational vexation that he thought dissipated over the days but was really just pent up until this very moment. He wanted to squeeze, feel the windpipe collapse underneath his hand, feel the life draining out of his victim.

But every time he caught Jimin’s terrified, watery eyes and those trembling lips he doubted. His hands were shaking violently. He could feel his fingers trying to close in on themselves, but they weren’t applying any real pressure. If he did this right now, he was no better than any of his captors. The only thing he had left to lose was his humanity, and he was that close to losing that and ostracizing himself from anybody he knew.

This wasn’t him. He couldn’t do it.

Before he could get his hands off of Jimin and apologize, the door was kicked open. He barely had time to look over his shoulder before Yeri was on him, pulling him away from Jimin. He had all of two seconds to see Yeri holding up and aiming and all he could think of was regretting his death, but what she actually did was both better and worse at the same time.

What she actually held was a taser and he didn’t even see the electrodes hooking into his shirt until it was too late. Like the baseball bat he felt himself dropping, though this time it was clearly him falling to meet the floor. Just when he thought they couldn’t possibly introduce a new form of pain to him, they proved him wrong. The pain radiated out from the center of his body in a matter of milliseconds. Being tased also provided the horrible feeling of losing all of his motor skills, leaving him as stiff as a board, but also forcing his muscles to expand and contract rapidly. He knew he was spasming and screaming but he couldn’t feel any of it. It was a hellish 30 seconds. By the time it was over he didn’t even know if he was capable of walking anymore.

It was like he was disconnected from his body, vaguely seeing and experiencing things from an entirely different location. Jimin was yelling something that Yeri kept shaking her head at. The other girls hung around in the next room, Irene with the biggest frown out of all of them. It took a while for his murky sight to function properly and realize that Seulgi wasn’t there with them. Irene left the room while Yeri and… that girl with the red-grey hair dragged him out and forced him to start walking. He used to laugh at baby deer struggling to walk on their spindly legs, but there was no amusement to be had with his clumsy stride when Yeri was still armed with a taser. He was so out of it that he didn’t realize where they were going or even notice that Yeri already took the taser prongs out of his shirt.

No amount of confusion was enough to make him forget the basement, however. As soon as they reached the stairs on the ground level he started resisting again, although they were more like feeble twitches than anything else. His memories instantly went toward the night before, to the pleading eyes of the delivery boy. He could at least take solace in the idea that he wasn’t going to be killed, but it was just as likely he had completely destroyed any chance of Jimin helping him out.

He barely caught a glimpse of the basement, the same as it usually was, when his vision was completely obscured by a bag that was placed over his head. It wasn’t burlap like he initially suspected because it wasn’t nearly as rough and almost no light was able to penetrate through it. Left without his vision he had no choice but to walk along, though after a good few steps he noticed that they weren’t stopping and at one point it seemed like he was handed off to two other people. His suspicion was confirmed when he heard the slight grind of metal, indicating none other than him going into the room that even the mysterious mapmaker didn’t know about.

The grates and tiles were cold underneath his bare feet, but the next room’s floor was even colder despite feeling roughly the same. It didn’t take him long to figure out that everything inside was colder. From the sound of several engines nearby, not only was this room airconditioned, it had multiple air conditioners running at the same time. There was no time to think about why they had so many or why the room was even being cooled since they brought him over to… whatever heinous torture device they had in mind.

Anticipation was one of the first things they used against him but it was still just as effective, stripping away one of the few advantages he had. He was made to lay down on something like an inclined bed or bench, where his limbs were secured by restraints. His head rested at the lower end of the incline, with his legs up at the other, higher end. His arms were locked firmly by his sides while his legs were locked into their usual position. Due to the incline he could feel the blood slowly trickling to his head at a snail’s pace.

His constant guessing about what was going to be inflicted on him was cut short when he heard Seulgi’s voice and the distinctive slight crackling of leather. “I’ve been told you found out about my involvement with Jimin.”

He clenched his hands in momentary anger but unclenched them soon afterward, still feeling pangs of regret. “So it’s true. He’s working with you all and I’ve been duped. Let’s get this over with.”

“He certainly wasn’t working for us. Didn’t he tell you how all of this wasn’t personal?”

“It’s hard to trust a person who’s about to torture me.”

There was a bit of shuffling around him that ceased when he heard metal against metal again, followed by a snip, snip. He tensed up waiting for his hair to be messed up, some part of his flesh cut away with those terribly inefficient tools, any number of things, but Seulgi simply cut away at his shirt. Once he was stripped of that the pants were cut off as well, leaving him completely in the nude. He wasn’t keen on the idea of genital mutilation by a long shot, so he tested his restraints again but quickly surrendered himself to compliance.

The cold air quickly got to him, making him shiver. He was the kind of person to get cold even through layers, so his bare skin raised in goosebumps with just a few minutes of exposure. He gasped and instinctively reached for his midsection when it was doused with water, the frigid liquid causing him intense discomfort the longer it sat on him. He groaned when more was splashed over his legs and arms. He had to concentrate to stop himself from shuddering, but he wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad thing. Seulgi stopped pouring water over him and he felt Seulgi’s gloved finger tracing over the raised skin on his hip.

“If he were really working with us, why did we brand him?”

“Loyalty pledge? Extra insurance? I don’t know.”

“Alright. Reasonable enough. Now why did you have to beg us to patch Jimin up after he offered to have your shoulder treated first?”

“Mind games? You’re the one with all of the cards here.”

“It’s funny how you really think the easiest and most effective option for us is to plant a mole solely to torment you. Not only did we have to brand him, we had to pretend he was a delivery boy who showed up in a branded car, fake a call to his brother and encourage him to protect you of his own volition just so we can torture you. Come on. Not quite Occam’s Razor, is it?”

She only continued with her speech after pouring fresh loads of water on each part of his body except his head. “There are so many ways of destroying you that wouldn’t take nearly as much effort. Denailing. Boiling. Solitary confinement. Crucifixion. The list goes on and on. I’m going to be nice enough to point you in the right direction. I want to hear your apology to Jimin.”

He cleared his throat and struggled to think of the most convincing way to stop this early. “I’m sorry for accusing you of conspiring-”

“Not good enough.” She poured water over his head, seeping right through the bag and onto his face. Waterboarding was often described as simulating drowning, but Taehyung considered this a form of drowning, only with a very small amount of water. His first instinct was to hold his breath which worked out for a little bit as Seulgi continued to pour, but eventually he ran out of air and was forced to exhale. He thought he timed it perfectly because Seulgi stopped pouring, but he was so, so wrong. As soon as he inhaled again the damp cloth stuck heavily against his nostrils and he panicked.

It was entirely unclear whether he was breathing or not and he didn’t know if it was him actively trying to breathe or his body’s specific reflex, but he wanted nothing more than to claw off the cloth over his face. The restraints held strong and he couldn’t even lift his arms an inch up, which only added to the terror. He fought down the pain and fear of his chest feeling like it was collapsing into itself and focused on the actual action of breathing, confirming that he was actually pumping air into his lungs.

Seulgi’s voice came again, as stern and biting as the cold air. “Try again.”

“I-I’m sorry to Jimin-” His voice was destroyed from just a few seconds of panic, not even actual oxygen deprivation.

“Pretend like he’s here. Pretend I’m Jimin.”

“Jimin, I know I’ve been an idiot, but I thought that those pictures were evidence enough-” He was once again interrupted, this time by a torrent of water instead of the steady stream that came before it. This time some water actually went into his nose and mouth, which only heightened the extreme panic and pain. It didn’t feel like he was on the surface level any more, it was like he was at the bottom of the Marianas Trench, dying with water filling up his orifices and the intense pressure crushing his ribcage.

It wasn’t long before he drifted off into the depths of his panic-induced vivid imagination, only to be brought back by a sharp hit to his stomach and continued pressure after that. He violently sputtered out the water that got into his system, dampening the cloth further but at least allowing him to breathe without the added terror of his lungs filling up with water.

“Try. Again.”

“I was wrong, alright!?” He still didn’t have a good grasp on breathing with the cloth over his head so he was basically expending all of his air in one final desperate and heartfelt apology. “When I saw those pictures I just felt so betrayed. And it wasn’t just because I thought you were working with them! I was so jealous of Seulgi. I thought you two still had something going on together and I couldn’t take the thought of losing a person I loved after Jungkook. I was such a fucking idiot because it was obvious you didn’t do any of that but I still acted out! Forgive me!”

He sobbed in relief when he felt the bag off of his bed, sucking in lungfuls of air and somehow laughing and crying at the same time. When he finally felt like he wasn’t short of breath anymore he opened up his eyes properly and saw Jimin, equally tearful, staring at him from the other side of the room. He wanted to put on a smile no matter how crooked it was and say it was OK, but it wasn’t. It just wasn’t.

He shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

Seulgi and Irene, standing off to the side, nodded to eachother.

Jimin sniffled and walked toward him. Seulgi and Irene allowed him to do so and soon Jimin had his face pressed against Taehyung’s. “Apology accepted.”

Chapter Text

For a time they kept their positions as they were, Taehyung suspended on the board, Jimin kneeling to meet his head’s height, but it quickly became uncomfortable for the duo. Blood was still rushing toward his head, the chill made him shiver violently even when he tried his best to fight it. The metal grates under Jimin’s knees were no doubt highly uncomfortable.

Before Jimin could step away Seulgi pulled him up and away forcefully, now holding something that looked awfully like a hose. Taehyung clenched his eyes instinctively, bracing himself, but opened them again slightly when he heard Jimin speaking.

“He already apologized! He doesn’t need any more.” Jimin was bravely clinging onto Seulgi’s arm, concern the only thing on his face. “He wasn’t even really choking me.”

“Cute, but I’m not interested.”

Taehyung held his breath, fearing the possibility of drowning or some kind of condition that could arise from water making its way into his lungs. Seulgi cranked the mechanism of the hose back and let loose, no longer interested in his face, directing the stream straight onto his chest. The water pressure was high enough for the water to emerge almost like a solid tube before hitting his chest and breaking off. It sure as hell felt solid, like the cylinder was somehow being driven into his body but constantly shattered at the point of impact. Like the needles it acted as a single, burning mass that he could swear was eating away at his skin. Even though one glance upward was enough to prove that his chest was fine, the sensation hardly disappeared. Due to the incline some of the water splashed onto his face but he was able to avoid most of the spray entering his nose just by moving his head.

Compared to the waterboarding it really wasn’t that bad, which was a hell of a thing to say, but the longer the stream settled on that one area of his chest, the more it stung. It also felt like she was increasing the pressure, making the droplets that broke off of the main stream feel like shrapnel. Through pure grit and willpower he managed to hold in his cries of pain, amazed at his own level of pain tolerance now, though he quickly gasped both in pain and shock when he felt cloth over his face again. He didn’t have time to shake it off when Seulgi redirected the stream onto his face, some of the impact absorbed by the cloth but pinning it to his face easily. Past experience didn’t help much when his brain was short circuiting, firing off all neurons associated with pain and panic. Holding his breath proved futile since the water flushed straight through the cloth mercilessly and entered every crack and crevice it could find itself in. Seulgi shut off the water but it didn’t make a difference. While his body tried to deal with the water that was inside him, he couldn’t supply his brain or any other organs with oxygen with that heavy, dripping fabric clinging to his face like a perfectly sculpted form-fitting mask. That small window of time was soon cut off from him when a fresh burst of water hit his face yet again.

This wasn’t dry drowning anymore. This was regular drowning coupled with an inability to breathe right afterward.

The stream stopped and the first thing he did was cough violently, made extremely difficult since he was unable to breathe properly. He shook his head forcefully, getting the godforsaken cloth off of his head even as he continued his coughing fit. He managed to cough up a good bit of water, painful but inarguably better for his health than just letting it sit there. Once he got what he assumed was all out of his system, just as he did earlier, he gulped down as much air as possible before the next round. Thing was, the next round never came. He ignored his feelings of weakness and scanned the area, finding Jimin standing right in front of him, effectively blocking the path of the water. “What are you doing!?”

Taehyung was relieved to see that the water wasn’t on when Jimin looked behind him confidently, but it didn’t change the fact that Jimin was resisting unnecessarily. “Something I should’ve done from the start.”

“I was the one who almost hurt you. Why are you sticking up for me now?”

“Ugh,” Seulgi groaned. “I hate sappy moments like these.”

Seulgi stepped to the side and cranked up the hose again, though rushed as she was her aim was off, the water hitting his torso again. Before she could maneuver the stream back onto his face Jimin once again tossed himself into the line of fire, gasping but standing strong nonetheless.

For a time Seulgi sprayed Jimin down but clearly looked uncertain about it, also never raising the pressure. Soon enough she shut off the hose and tossed it to the side, taking off her leather gloves before she started taking off her apron. Irene rolled her eyes and gave a smile before stepping back over to Taehyung and freeing him from his restraints.

Even with his arms and legs free he felt like he barely had the energy to stand up. When he actually tried to do so, lifting his body slightly off of the board, he found that he didn’t have the energy at all. Worse still, he actually felt hot now, which registered as very wrong somewhere in his confused mind. The last thing he thought before he shut his eyes was that he at least stopped shivering.

Dazed as he was, he didn’t recognize the clinic, or even what Wendy was trying to do to him, only considering her something like a vague threat. After the checkup he was allowed to go to a bed. He stubbornly tried to peel the blankets that were being layered on him off since he still felt hot. He eventually felt too sleepy to continue stripping the blankets off so he tried to sleep, only to be kept awake by someone shaking him. He tried to shrug them off but their hold was insistent, causing him to glare at… Jimin. Oh. “What are you doing here?”

“You have hypothermia. You’re feeling really tired right now, but you can’t sleep.”

“Oh. Can I at least get these off of me?” He started to move his hand underneath the blankets, but Jimin caught hold of it and pressed it down firmly.

“No. And I’ll be around to make sure you don’t.”

Jimin muttered something about stubbornness and almost didn’t catch Taehyung nodding off, shaking him awake. The pattern continued up until Taehyung complained loudly about being hungry. He was soon supplied with warm soup which he happily sipped at for the better part of an hour. It was only after he finished his soup and got back to a reasonable temperature that he remembered all that happened. “What’s going on now?”

Jimin laid his hand on Taehyung’s head, likely to check his temperature. “Wendy said you coughed up most of the water so you shouldn’t be in any real trouble with water in your lungs, but you had hypothermia and could’ve slipped into a coma.”

He sat up and stretched, working out the kinks in his muscles. He prodded gingerly at the skin on his chest, hissing a bit when it still stung slightly. It was a light pink-red, nothing serious but definitely worse for the wear. “So when can I actually sleep?”

“Might want to wait for night to fall before you actually do that. You shouldn’t be dying of hypothermia anytime soon, at least.”

“I’m sleepy. I could totally go for a light coma right now.”

Jimin swatted at his head, pouting. “It’s not good to joke about things like that. You know what? That never happened. We should just stop thinking about today.”

“Deal. I don’t exactly like remembering…” Getting jealous. Throwing photos at you. Almost choking you. “Any of that.”

Hours later Wendy gave him a clean bill of health and a new set of clothes, ignoring the faded red mark on his chest and his tiredness as well as conveniently ‘forgetting’ to give him painkillers, but he was just glad to leave the thin clinical bed for his own. Mostly he was looking forward to a well-deserved nap. Before he and Jimin had the chance to leave the clinic, though, Yeri came with the usual bored announcement that it was time for dinner. Taehyung always reacted to sickness weirdly in his mind, switching from no appetite whatsoever to absolutely ravenous in the blink of an eye. Yeri’s words set off his appetite and, with the help of Jimin, he hobbled down to the dining room as quickly as possible.

If dinner weren’t soup he would have finished in no time flat, but he still finished ahead of everyone else, aside from Jimin. Jimin matched his pace after a bit of struggle, but he appreciated the gesture given how finicky people tended to be with table manners. He was just about to excuse the both of them from the table when knocking from the door interrupted everybody. This time around there was no eerie snapping to attention, no moment of recognition to imply that they had planned this again. Irene gestured with her head, causing everyone to get up, including Taehyung and Jimin.

Taehyung grabbed Jimin’s hand and stood on the second step of the stairs, ready to bolt up if it was another unfortunate pizza boy. From their reactions he garnered that it mostly likely wasn’t one, though, and he feared that it was another overly reckless investigator or even Hoseok again. The girls were busy preparing, Seulgi interestingly retreating into the kitchen along with Wendy, although Wendy came out soon afterward sporting an all too familiar baseball bat. While Wendy took her place behind the wall of the living room, Irene and Yeri positioned themselves at the door to the back, leaving Joy as the only one still standing at the door. Once everything was set and a second round of knocks ceased, Joy opened the door.

Taehyung’s jaw dropped as he caught sight of a policeman- specifically one he knew. “Jin?”

If it were any other circumstances Seokjin would have given a friendly smile and maybe a ruffle on the head, but the grim determination that dominated his face left no room for doubt. Seokjin was an unofficial member of Bulletproof, a friend of Namjoon’s even before he was a part of the force. He was only considered unofficial because he never actively took part in any investigation, only accepted evidence and made sure that cases weren’t covered up. His mere presence just meant that Bulletproof was coming out in full force this very night.

Irene must have heard what Taehyung said or had some kind of undisclosed plan because she pushed past Yeri and fled to god knows where. Joy, on the other hand, gave her no notice, already trying to tempt Seokjin in with empty promises of companionship.

Seokjin halted her speech with a raised palm. “Ma’am, I’m going to have to search this house.”

One step into the torture room and Seokjin would have enough evidence for a more thorough search. With the brands on their hips and witness testimony, Jimin and Taehyung themselves would be more than enough to lock them up for good. Even without seeing her face Taehyung could tell Joy went pale. Joy’s normally confident sentence was marred by a slight stutter. “D-Do you have a warrant?”

Seokjin presented the paper, fully expecting the question. That was probably the reason Bulletproof took so long. They had to get a valid warrant signed by a judge. As much as the warrant helped Seokjin get inside, it did nothing to help him when he actually set foot into the house. Yeri started shifting at the same time that Joy turned to enter the dining room. That little bit of double distraction ensured that Seokjin’s eyes were trailing between the two of them, creating a huge blindspot behind him. Taehyung gulped and heard the impending footsteps.

The difference here was that he knew they were coming.

He let go of Jimin’s hand and tackled Wendy before anyone saw it coming. There was a sickening crack as her head hit the wall and several wooden clunks as the baseball bat toppled to the floor. Taehyung jumped on the bat like a wild beast, grabbing it and clutching it to his chest. He looked at everybody else with wide eyes, raising the bat into swinging position as he got up.

He nearly swung the bat as another person entered the house, but he stopped himself just short of knocking out Yoongi mistakenly. He watched as Yoongi picked Wendy up, holding the doctor up against him in a headlock even as she squirmed. Seokjin looked torn at the action but nodded after a few moments of tense silence. Taehyung quickly realized that it was nothing short of a forced hostage situation.

“Jin, what’s going on?”

“People didn’t think there was an actual case going on here, wanted me to go in alone until I could get confirmation of what was going on. Don’t worry, I told him that there was credible danger and hostages inside before I got here. Namjoon’s hanging around outside, Yoongi’s helping me keep an eye on the perps until the backup arrives. Is this everyone?”

Taehyung shook his head rapidly. “No, no it isn’t. Let’s leave. Let’s leave right now. Get Jimin.”

“This is him, yeah?” Seokjin stepped toward Jimin, who temporarily recoiled in fear but soon clung to Seokjin for dear life. “We can’t leave yet, we have people unaccounted for. How many people are missing?”

“Lemme look.” Joy, seething with a frown. Wendy holding her head weakly, still trapped by Yoongi. Seulgi was in the kitchen and there weren’t any exits there. He had no idea where Irene got off to. Yeri- “Shit!”

Yeri emerged from the hallway sporting the crossbow, yelling loudly. “SEULGI!”

The door to the kitchen was kicked open, Seulgi marching forward with a two handed axe, easily dwarfing most of the weapons he’d seen including the ridiculously modern crossbow Yeri favored. Seokjin drew his gun as soon as he saw Yeri coming in, but with two different targets and from his position near the stairs it was incredibly dangerous and altogether unfavorable.

Yoongi thought he had the solution and sallied forth with Wendy, but Taehyung remembered exactly what Wendy told him., the entire reason she wasn’t afraid of being alone with him. He screamed, part ‘No’ and part guttural cry. He heaved himself forward with all of the force in his body, aiming to tackle Yoongi out of the way this time, but it was too late.

Click.

Yoongi grunted and looked down hesitantly at his stomach, coughing repeatedly as he did so. The corner of his mouth dribbled red but that trickle was nothing compared to the steady drip of crimson that was already starting to pool between them. Wendy seemed to have the same revelation at the beginning, but quickly devolved into hapless laughter, hysterically worsening her wound.

Taehyung couldn’t feel anything but his raw throat as he continued to scream, but his brain continued to work. It was a disgusting and pessimistic thought to have, but he had long since resigned himself to the ugly likelihood of what would happen to Yoongi regardless of Seokjin’s presence. He bolted for the stairs, grabbing Jimin’s hand and practically carrying him up while Seokjin fired shots behind them.

He yelped as an arrow went flying past his head, hissing when his cheek started to burn just moments later. He risked a look behind him to see that Seokjin was following them up, though without any pursuers, oddly enough. He didn’t notice he had gone up one more extra flight of stairs until he nearly collided with a heavy wooden door, stopped just in time by Jimin.

So this was the attic, the one place he was too afraid to check. There was no time for doubt, though, and he reared up with the baseball bat, ready to smash the lock in. A few solid hits with the baseball bat, even though it was just wood, was enough to smash the rusty lock off somewhat cleanly at the expense of noise. His mind drifted to why the girls weren’t following and one errant thought of Yoongi’s pained face snapped him back, making him push the doors open with the closest thing to bravado he had left.

The first thing that got to him was the sound. The awful sound of something shuffling against wood accompanied by a cacophony of random grunts. The associated image fit and was no less terrifying.

The human leg was never meant to twist at certain angles, but this stranger’s legs were broken multiple times to such an obvious extent that it was a wonder he was anything close to alive. He was in the middle of dragging himself toward a bowl of what looked like dog food at the end of the room when his eyes snapped to them, but instead of glee at the prospect of being rescued, he curled in on himself, cowering.

Jin, far more experienced with situations like these, was able to communicate with the unfortunate victim. It didn’t take long for all of them to notice that his tongue had been cut, just from his inability to pronounce a good number of words. His round face and long eyes reminded Taehyung of Heechul, a close friend, but once again he doubted any relation. The girls had a knack for choosing people who looked remarkably similar to  people he knew.

The rest of the attic was bare aside from a pile of rags in the corner and a single computer desk and chair which were both propped up by books, making the entire set-up just a bit higher. One look at the mangled legs and Taehyung doubted it really needed to be done. Taehyung couldn’t bear to look at the legs for very much longer and headed to the computer, raising an eyebrow at the wallpaper when he shook the mouse. It was a group photo of the girls, all in white sleepwear. It wasn’t anything like the photos of Jimin and Seulgi either, this was done professionally.

There was only one icon visible anywhere on the screen and when he clicked it out came a pop-up for the password. He didn’t dare try to guess the password considering it could be anything and just one wrong attempt could permanently lock it down, so he was once again thrust into the reality of being trapped in the attic. There was no place to go but down.

Seokjin had placed some rags underneath the crippled victim but couldn’t do anything else, so he was off in the corner speaking hurriedly into his walkie-talkie. When he was done with that he rounded up Taehyung and Jimin. “Namjoon’s coming up here to retrieve you two. I’m gonna head down and see if I can knock some of these girls out and find Yoongi. The backup should be here any minute, but I don’t want you to take the risk. Leave immediately. Namjoon’s car is right outside.”

“That’s- that’s just suicide! You don’t have to go!”

“Tae, I’m going to level with you. There is the very real chance that I might die. But I knew what I signed up for when I joined the force. I couldn’t live knowing that I just let Yoongi die without doing anything.”

“Goddamnit Jin, don’t do this to me.” He wanted to stop Seokjin, make a more convincing argument, but there was nothing more to be said. He changed over the time he came here, now firmly in the mindset of practicality, but even he knew that it was cruel to leave Yoongi behind in the clutches of the killers. “What would Namjoon say?”

“He can tell me himself.” And just like that Seokjin was off, inching down the stairs bravely with his gun drawn once more.

After Seokjin left Taehyung came up with a plan that took a page right out of the girls’ book, simply standing next to the doorway while Jimin was tasked with opening the door. Waiting was the hardest task, each creak of the floorboard making Taehyung itch to swing, each shot he heard in the distance making him flinch. After an eternity there came three curt knocks on the door.

Jimin opened it up and rushed to the side. As soon as he saw that he swung right for the brown bob he knew belonged to Yeri. Wood hit metal and he cursed loudly as he saw the crossbow raised just enough for Yeri to block the hit and keep standing.

“Fucker!” Yeri brought the crossbow back down and Taehyung eyed the trigger, taking his chances with dodging the arrow even if they were slim to none. For the first time, though, Yeri stumbled. Jimin pushed her from behind, enough to knock her down but not enough to get her into an overly precarious situation. Yeri took full advantage and grabbed Jimin's leg with both hands, tugging him sharply down to the floor with her. Taehyung tried to wrench the crossbow from Yeri, inadvertently freeing Jimin from her grasp. Jimin got up and moved past her, to the stairs.

"Run!"

Taehyung let go of the crossbow just as Yeri lined up her shot from the floor. “I don’t fucking miss!”

Now that she was fired up and angry her aim seemed to worsen and Taehyung barely dodged the arrow during his mad sprint for the exit. Pumped up with adrenaline he almost ran into Jimin but managed to step to the side, running roughly at the same pace as Jimin as they descended the stairs with great clattering footsteps.

It was going to be incredibly easy for Yeri to track them and he didn’t want to risk being shot at while Namjoon started the car so he racked his brains for some kind of safe place on the second floor. The clinic and their room were going to be death traps and by the time he thought of going for any of the girls’ rooms they had already run past the clinic. Making a split second decision he sped up and flung the door to the trophy room open.

Like the trophy room on the ground floor there were shirts of all different colors and sizes with their own logos, but the important part was the cover that came from the podiums that the shirts rested on. He ran for the leftmost podium in the first row and confirmed that if he crouched, he was hidden from the vantage point of the door. He waved Jimin over to him and pointed to the end of the same column, ensuring that Jimin was farthest away from the door for his latest plan to work.

Just as he expected Yeri entered, boldly shooting a random glass case on the right side as her way of announcing her entrance. “Hey boys. I have permission to kill you now!” Yeri shot four or five more times on the right side before she trained her sights on the left. “Come out, come out, wherever you are. Jimin, don’t you care about Jihyun? I’m going to rip your intestines out and hang him with them.”

Yeri systematically shot closer and closer to Taehyung until she finally shattered the case he was hiding by. Shards of glass rained on him, cutting into his head and exposed skin almost like hail, but he kept his mouth shut tight and protected his eyes. Yeri continued to work through the glass cases with increasing speed and efficiency until an arrow came flying for Jimin’s case. As it shattered Jimin yelled in pain and surprise, Yeri’s eerie giggle signaling her sprint toward Jimin’s location.

It was almost too easy. One dash, one lunge and one more crack as one of the most dangerous people he’d ever met went down. Yeri was still clutching stubbornly onto the crossbow so he raised the bat up and brought it down hard against her side. He could feel the ribs snap underneath and it felt exhilarating. Now that he held all of the power he saw just how intoxicating it was to be over somebody so weak and pathetic. The fact that the roles were now reversed was only the icing on the cake. He had taken so much shit. The bruise on the back of his head, his shoulder, his chest. Now he could do the same to her.

He raised the bat high above his head, almost blocking out Yeri’s laughter and delirious words. “You’re not a sissy anymore! Do it, fuckface. Kill me!”

Jimin laid a hand on his shoulder and he lowered the bat slightly. He had come so close to killing Jimin that this was a no-brainer. Instead of her head he aimed for her leg, specifically her knee. “Go fuck yourself.”

Yeri finally screamed as her kneecap fractured under the heavy blow, robbing her of the ability to walk for the foreseeable future. If he had more time and less self control he would have twisted her legs in a fashion similar to that of the remaining captive they were forced to leave behind in the attic just for more karmic retribution. As it happened, though, he gave the baseball bat to Jimin and hefted up the crossbow for himself. Even down to the end Yeri retained her violent attitude, cursing up a storm while digging her nails into the wood, clumsily trying to find some way of getting up without damaging her knee. Of course, her scrambling only made it worse. She was just a noise machine now, and they had to leave before anybody else could find her.

Now that they were armed and ready to go Taehyung considered helping Seokjin out, quickly scrapping that idea once he saw that he only had a few arrows left from Yeri’s trigger-happy spree. There were arrows all over the walls, yes, but he wasn’t going to waste time trying to yank them out even if it was possible to get them out in the first place. His first priority now was to find Namjoon and get out of here.

He made his way through the creaking halls once again, a lot more confident now that he had the crossbow, aiming it at every door and quickly swinging it around each corner. When he and Jimin were both armed in some fashion the fear was no longer there, now morphed into morbid excitement. There was no movement anywhere until he caught sight of a figure creeping up the stairs. He smirked and aimed, waiting for them to get into a better line of fire, only for him to drop his aim and run for the person, Namjoon.

Namjoon eyed the crossbow with disbelief. “Holy- How’d you get that?”

“Knocked one out and stole it. She isn’t going to be walking anywhere for a while.”

“Great. Seokjin’s dealing with the girls hiding out in the basement, I don’t know where Yoongi is. Come on, it should be a clear path for us!”

Namjoon lead the charge and they descended the final flight of stairs to the ground floor where everything else was silent. If it weren’t for the pool of blood on the floor and the dirty dishes on the kitchen table it would’ve been yet another idyllic scene, like nobody had ever been there. Taehyung hated every second he was still in this house.

Taehyung aimed instinctively when the door opened, but there was no obstacle waiting for them. No captor standing with a crossbow. No lines, no trap. Stepping outside of that house was a burst of euphoria and he could barely believe that he felt grass underneath his feet again. The wind was cold and bracing, but it was wind, not some draft that drifted into that prison of a building. He was well and truly free.

He spared one last look back at the house while he ran, the building that trapped him for- how many days was it? A week? For far too long. Despite everything that happened inside, it looked like just another quaint house outside of Seoul. He didn’t believe in the supernatural, not really, but if there was one place he’d say was cursed, it was that fucking house.

It was surreal opening the car door and ushering Jimin into the backseat. He scrambled inside next to Jimin, placing the crossbow as carefully as he could in the space between his legs to make sure it didn't misfire and damage some part of the car. It rested at an awkward position, but he didn't care anymore. He slammed the door shut, reveling in the feeling of plush leather behind him. It was too soft, too alien, but it was all real. He let himself breathe again, slowing his heartbeat down somewhat. He touched his cheek- bleeding. But it didn't matter.

The car engine hummed to life and they sped off, nobody in sight behind them.

When they were a block away he started laughing, causing Jimin to join in moments later. He held his boyfriend’s face and kissed him, indulging in those perfectly pillowy lips as his celebration. He wanted to swallow Jimin up, taste every inch of his skin, but as this was Namjoon’s car and he was still there, driving, Taehyung settled for more kisses.

He felt the engine stalling and the car slowing down and he looked around, wondering where they ended up at. A… payphone? This was not the police station or a safehouse. It was also really, really close to the house they just escaped. An edge of anxiety cut into his joyful mood, but Namjoon was quick to explain, unbuckling his seatbelt as he did so. “Lost my cellphone. I’ll use the payphone here, gonna call Hoseok, tell him we’re alright. You’ll crash with him for the night.”

He gulped and nodded, watching Namjoon exit the car. At this hour the streets were deserted, nothing but dimly lit walkways and asphalt. The payphone was lit by a single street lamp that stood tall above it. Behind the payphone was the wall of some sleazy motel whose flickering neon sign literally only said ‘MOTEL’.

He breathed in deeply and held Jimin’s hand. If he strained his eyes a little he could see that the payphone had a sign on the side… missing pizza boys. There were so many faces, most of which were highly attractive. Those psychos probably picked their victims long before they were invited, but no longer. Seokjin was going to arrest them and give them the treatment they deserve, firm scrutiny by the law.

Namjoon started dialing. Taehyung and Jimin jumped when there was a pop behind them. The trunk was opening. The fucking trunk was opening by itself.

He made a mad grab for the crossbow but given its awkward position he couldn’t grasp it properly. It didn’t help that he was frantically switching his gaze between the trunk and the crossbow the entire time. Out from the trunk stepped Irene, holding a shotgun. Jimin screamed. Namjoon dropped the phone. Irene pumped the shotgun and got ready to fire.

The blast coupled with the screaming was deafening. Where Namjoon stood there was a firework of skull, brain and blood. Namjoon’s body fell to the floor, still twitching. Irene, splattered with blood, turned the shotgun toward them. “Peek-a-boo.”

Chapter Text

Taehyung finally ripped the crossbow from between his legs, cracking the glass window he sat next to just by violently swinging the crossbow at it in an attempt to get the aim lined up faster. There was no time to think or even register what he was shooting at past a glimmer that had barely shown up in the corner of his eye. He pulled the trigger.

The crossbow’s force was more than enough to break the window, scattering glass shards all over his midsection and lap, some flying dangerously close to his face. Despite that he kept his eyes pointed forward, watching the arrow fly right for Irene’s arm. He held his breath even as the glass dug into his skin, willing the arrow to make some form of contact and allow him to reload.

His exhale quickly turned into a choked gasp as Irene stepped out of the way just before her arm would have been speared through, leaving a deep gash on the side but missing its target. Irene nearly dropped the shotgun looking at her wound, proving once again that the seemingly invulnerable could fall. Unlike Yeri and Wendy, though, Irene merely stumbled, regaining her balance and grip within seconds. He reached for another arrow, stopped short by cold, unfeeling metal pressed against his cheek.

“Get out of the car.”

He moved his hands farther down, trying to sneak an arrow into his grasp so he could at least defend himself, but that was quickly stopped by the shotgun barrel, pushed farther into his skin. He sighed and raised his hands, opening the car door after Irene stepped back and gave him the OK. All this time he thought that escaping the house and the surrounding area was the safest choice, but Irene proved that wrong in only a few minutes. This was the true element of danger that put Irene over Yeri. Yeri had her kneecap smashed despite having the advantage of a weapon and extreme proficiency with it. Outnumbered three to one, with careful planning Irene killed one of his best friends and ensured, in these empty streets, there was nowhere to run and no one to help.

The air reeked of a slaughterhouse, the metallic scent wafting off of Irene and what was left of Namjoon. He forced himself to look, to face the reality of trying everything and losing in the end. Even if by some miracle, he were to escape, what was he going to say to Seokjin? The massive splatter of red that dominated his vision made his head swim, his brain vehemently trying to block out the far more horrific details, like the jaw that was snapped in two unevenly or just the fact that Namjoon didn’t have a face anymore.

He swallowed once more when he heard the gun reloading, raising his gaze from the corpse to the darkness that swallowed the end of the road. The gun was pressed against his hands, already an oddity, but what was even weirder was that it wasn’t cold metal touching his skin. It was the much warmer leather of the stock of the gun. He yanked at the stock with both hands rather needlessly, since Irene handed it over and stepped back, her own hands up in mock surrender.

When he got the shotgun pressed firmly against his shoulder and the barrel aimed for Irene’s frustratingly amused face, there was just one question that burned at the back of his mind that he just had to ask. “Why?”

“I’ve destroyed your life and killed one of your friends. In exchange, you gave me proof that love does have a practical purpose. It’s not just a lie for bad boys like you to flaunt.”

“Stop with the vague bullshit.” He stepped closer, only now noticing the beads of sweat on Irene’s face with her noticeably tight smile. She was the nervous one for once.

“I’m giving you a fair chance now. You can kill me and live with the consequences of murder for the rest of your life, or you can let me, a proven murderer and kidnapper, go free in exchange for one vital bit of information that you’ll never learn otherwise.”

“Oh yeah? What could you possibly tell me that will stop me from shooting you? I can shoot your knee. I don’t have to kill you.”

Irene flinched at the threat but answered mere seconds later. “I can tell you where I took Jungkook away.”

He swallowed, nearly forgetting all about Jimin as his initial desire to find his original boyfriend surged. He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder, only to relax again when he found it was just Jimin, leaning in to give him a whisper.  “Whatever happens, I trust you.”

He shut his eyes and played around with the trigger, but as with Yeri the same cycle of thoughts came around. There was no guarantee that Jungkook was alive or even recognizable considering the state of Namjoon’s body, but pointless revenge was exactly what Namjoon would not have wanted. Irene wasn’t just a vain socialite or a gun maniac, she had an agenda, mysterious as it was- otherwise she wouldn’t have given him this shotgun in the first place. He opened his eyes again.

“What’s the address?”

“Put the gun down.”

He conceded disarming solely because Irene did the same minutes earlier.

“156-9 Samseongapateu.”

Jimin perked up at that and tugged on Taehyung’s sleeve in clear recognition. A whisper confirmed that Jimin knew exactly where that was, just a few blocks from where he and his brother lived. Even if the address Irene gave turned out to be a huge dud and a wasted opportunity to kill her once and for all, there was still the matter of Jihyun. Jihyun never called back after that first phone call, so it was entirely possible he was assassinated, or just not given the medicine Joy promised. It wasn’t a completely pointless trip.

Picking the shotgun back up, he expected Irene to make a break for it, but she stood tall, completely at his mercy. He’d… have to keep an eye on her. Stepping over the pools of blood and with gun in hand, he got into the driver’s seat. It was still warm. Still smelled like Namjoon. Despite that, he didn’t really feel anger or hatred anymore. He still had a temper, but his explosive actions were forced now. He pitied Irene. Just how attached had he inadvertently become to these girls?

Jimin took the passenger seat next to him to avoid the glass, so he handed off the shotgun to Jimin, who set it on his lap with extreme care. Taehyung felt tempted to slam his foot on the pedal and get out of there. As the seconds ticked by he eventually decided against it and rolled down the window. If nothing else, even if he didn’t find any information from it, he needed to know something. “What’s your real name, Irene?”

Irene bit her lower lip and shifted her weight as if she were considering a confession instead of admitting who she was, all while drenched in blood that did nothing to hide the glimmer of her dress. “Bae Joohyun.”

With that he drove away, much slower than he wanted. Joohyun was too normal of a name for the girl he watched in the rearview mirror. The girl who murdered his best friend, kidnapped Jungkook and helped him in the most roundabout way could not be called Joohyun. Irene stood underneath the yellow beam of light and waved goodbye to him until they could no longer see eachother and they both disappeared into the night.

The open road in front of him was no longer euphoric. It was just asphalt that could be spilled with blood at any moment. He blanked out for the rest of the ride, mindlessly taking directions from Jimin, until he almost missed the house entirely. After the minor hiccup he pulled up to Jimin’s home.

The house was tiny, squashed in between two much larger buildings, only making it more obvious how it was only as big as an apartment. In fact, Taehyung could swear his apartment was bigger. To top it all off the house was in an obvious state of disrepair, peeling paint that was white ages ago but now dulled into light greys and splotches of orange and brown. Jimin stepped up to the door, practically the most secure looking part, jiggling the doorknob a few times. Jimin turned away and moved to one side of the building.

At first glance it seemed that the house was sandwiched well between its neighbors, but that turned out not to be strictly true.  There was a small gap that Jimin was crossing to get to the back, sliding himself against the house’s wall sideways. Taehyung followed suit, the rough brick wall in front of him coupled with the splintering wood behind made for a very uncomfortable experience. The ‘backyard’, if one could call it that, was a pitiful patch of dead soil that provided just enough space for the both of them to comfortably walk instead of slide awkwardly.

Jimin opened the back door and stepped inside, now moving without waiting for him. Jimin didn’t bother to flip the light switch, moving through the darkness with ease, making Taehyung wonder if he had practice navigating around his home without lights. After passing one, two doors and already catching sight of the front door he confirmed just how cramped this place was. Jimin finally lit up the room with the soft glow of a little yellow lamp in the corner. That added bit of light was what it took for him to notice a person swaddled in a black blanket on top of a plastic covered sofa. Moving closer, it was clear that this was Park Jihyun.

He looked a lot like Jimin, though his face was just a tiny bit blockier. The rustling of plastic drew Taehyung’s attention, mainly because Jihyun hadn’t moved at all to disturb the sofa cover. It was Jimin, pulling out bottles of medicine from a plastic bag. He was choking up, so Taehyung went over and patted his back. “Are you OK?”

“Yeah, yeah. They gave so much.” There were an awful lot of bottles in that bag. “We’re going to be great for a while. That’s one huge worry off of my list.”

“Do you wanna talk to your little brother before we go?”

Jimin replaced the bottles in the bag before looking over to Jihyun, who was shifting to lay on his side. “I already spent enough time. I don’t want to wake him up just so I can leave abruptly again. You still have your worry, let’s take care of it.”

They exited through the backdoor and in no time Taehyung was behind the wheel again. Instead of feeling dead inside this time around, he dealt with his emotions the same way he did when deadlines were approaching- worry about it. There was so much he wanted to say and confirm about Jungkook that it broke his heart every time the rational side of his brain reminded him there was a chance Jungkook wasn’t there. He envied Jimin. Jimin looked so comfortable.

By the time they reached the address his heart was already pounding in his ears. Lightheaded, he got out and looked at the final obstacle between him and his Kookie- an abandoned warehouse. It had all the stereotypical signs of a horror movie location, expansive, empty lot except for the odd shipping container and the main building that dominated the center. There were lights, both broken and intact, left powerless throughout the entire facility. This was the kind of location he would have never stepped in if he hadn’t been through hell and back. Nothing was creepy anymore when he knew that all of the girls were far behind.

The ground was sunken in at several places, meaning their pathway was marred by several large puddles of muddy water. This would have been no problem if they remembered to put shoes on at Jimin’s house, but they made do with what they had and walked carefully around the bodies of water. At the very least they had grass to cushion most of their path instead of harsh, grainy granite.

Despite its age and his quick assumption that it was abandoned, there were a few things that tipped him off to its continued use. None of the windows were broken, for one, but the damning piece of evidence was a shiny new padlock and chains that were here for no longer than a few days. The best part of it was that it wasn’t actually locked. He could bash open or just shoot his way through older locks, but it’d take a hell of a lot more to get through a brand new one. It wasn’t good practice to alert an entire neighborhood that you were using dangerous weapons illegally to trespass on someone else’s property. He had no doubt that Irene somehow had a hand to play in their ease of access.

He shoved the metal door open, cursing his lack of a flashlight. He once slept in a room where all of the windows were blocked by heavy curtains, which effectively made the room perfectly dark. This was the case here further into the warehouse, past several pillars where it was impossible to gauge just what was over there. There were some small holes in the roof where moonlight streamed through and made for a decent path, but there was a considerable amount of darkness and uncertainty that worked toward frightening Jimin. Taehyung stared into the darkness without a care, eventually picking up the soft sound of engines running from the far, far end of the warehouse.

He held Jimin’s hand and started walking toward the source of the sound, with some minor detours to a spot of light or running when they were in the darkness to facilitate Jimin’s comfort. Their lack of shoes worked against them more here, where the dust on the floor clung to their feet each time they took a step. About halfway through a rat skittered out of the darkness and Jimin yelled, making his panicked sound echo throughout the warehouse. Jimin patted Taehyung’s back vigorously, pleading to be taken away from the imaginary danger.

They eventually reached the end, only to find a door tucked away to the side, ‘RED VELVET’ spray painted in bold red visible even in the dark conditions. Looking around a little more, he also found a smaller bit of text scrawled to the side, near the bottom of the door, reading ‘bad boy down’. He pushed past his anxiety and did the same to the door, moving forward while Jimin stayed back hesitantly, staying out of the room entirely. He was instantly blasted by a rush of hot air. The tiles underneath him almost felt like they were burning. His voice of reason sank into the background as little more than white noise. He was far more concerned with the person tied to a chair in the center of the room, facing away. They were slumped over; head hanging, their upper body supported solely by the rope and the chair.

He rushed headlong into the unbearably hot room, kneeling down on the scorching tiles to look at the captive’s face. His eyes filled with tears when he recognized Jungkook and heard his voice again. “Tae… hyung?”

“It’s me, Kookie, it’s me. Gimme a few seconds, help is here.” He stood up and got to work untying, furiously working at the knots until they finally gave way, causing Jungkook to slump down on himself further. There was no denying that Jungkook was a shell of his former self. His luscious skin had been dried to the same consistency as a cracker, flaky and brittle. His voice, crisp and charmingly boyish, was reduced to a crackling wheeze. Even his eyes were sunken in. Taehyung took careful hold of Jungkook’s arm and started pulling him up. “We’re going to get you to a hospital.”

“Get off of me.”

Jungkook weakly struggled, causing Taehyung to gently put his arm back down. Jungkook grunted and came up onto his feet, almost crashing into a nearby screen but saving his balance just in time. He stumbled back toward Taehyung, jabbing an accusatory finger in his chest. Due to his obvious dehydration he kept pausing in the middle of his sentence, laboriously forcing out every word to make a complete sentence.

“I hated every second of that video.” There was a groan and Jungkook’s face twisted in pain. Since there were no tears coming out it was hard for Taehyung to realize that Jungkook was crying. “I swore as soon as I got out of here I would slap you. But it’s true, isn’t it?”

“Kookie, what are you talking about?”

There was a heated silence as Jungkook did nothing but point to the screen, but it eventually flickered to life again. Within seconds of the footage playing Taehyung knew what it was- after all, he was in it. The very first thing that played was him and Jimin exchanging kisses on the cheek, followed by the more intimate answers they gave to the questions. The final clip that played before the screen died again was his definition of cheating. It was edited, cutting out all of the uncertainty he had during the actual filming. There was nobody to blame but Irene.

“When two people are in a healthy relationship then any romantic or sexual activity is cheating. The problem is when it’s not a healthy relationship anymore. If a person changes, then the relationship changes.”

“I’m not your number one anymore. I missed you so much and… and-” Jungkook’s eyes fluttered and he stumbled forward again.

Taehyung wrapped his arms around Jungkook’s midsection and started hauling him backwards, calling out to Jimin for help. Jungkook mumbled something against his chest, but it was lost through the fabric. Jimin helped him carry out half-delirious and half-conscious Jungkook to the car, both of them avoiding any more communication than needed. Since the backseat was a glass hazard Jimin relinquished the front seat to Jungkook and went back to his original seat after tossing out the larger shards of glass.

In the relative silence of the drive to the hospital Taehyung had ample time to think about something he had honestly lost faith in. Jungkook was very much alive, but so was Jimin. Previously this would have been a cut and dry exchange, he’d go back to Jungkook and he’d find some way to help Jimin and his brother, but now all of their incomes were compromised. The worst part of this was that, with the death of Namjoon, Bulletproof as an organization was effectively dead until the members could regroup.  They were all, at the moment, without money.

Past that came the more delicate matters of emotion. Jungkook was easily the most jealous of anyone he knew. Whenever Taehyung and another person did something that could be interpreted in another way Jungkook had this habit he did every single time, poking his cheek out with his tongue and looking away. Just by that video Irene may have ruined Taehyung's relationship with Jungkook forever. Nobody else had proof of the relationship he was forced into, not even Hoseok.

Feeling the oncoming migraine from thinking too much about it, he shut down his thoughts again until he pulled up to the nearest hospital under the guidance of Jimin. The hospital was on the bigger side of the spectrum, relatively new and well-staffed, coupled with a good reputation. There was no time to waste with how dehydrated Jungkook had become, so he risked letting Jimin keep watch over Jungkook while he dealt with the hospital staff.

He burst through the doors at full speed, startling people waiting in the lobby and staff alike. He skidded to a stop in front of the receptionist’s desk, staring down at a diminutive brown haired guy with glasses, who spilled chips all over himself. He had to admit that it was his fault for scaring him, but seeing the receptionist eating at the desk lowered his trust for this hospital.

“S-Sir,” the receptionist stammered out. “Are you alright?”

“Of course I am!” He snapped. He was about to say more when he caught the stares of other staff, especially the security guard he hadn’t noticed up until then. He touched his cheek, finding a trail of crusted over blood that dried midway down his neck. Right. He completely forgot that, to everyone else, he looked like a bloody, barefoot lunatic dressed in dirty, torn-up clothing. “Scratch that. It’s just that my b- my friend is much worse. He’s severely dehydrated and waiting in the car with my other friend. Um, we’re all hurt, but please deal with the dehydration first. Wait! I just remembered! I need to call the police. Right now. I just need to use the phone.”

He waited for the receptionist to fly into action, but they just stared at him, completely dumbfounded. Before he could snap at the receptionist to get to action, a nurse moved the receptionist out of the way and took his place. This nurse seemed uncertain as well but showed a greater degree of calmness, politely standing with her hands clasped. The way she held herself betrayed her actual age even though she looked quite young, auburn hair tied into two pigtails, face remarkably wrinkle-free. She was older than Taehyung, but he couldn’t give a damn about the age-respect thing until he was allowed to call Seokjin.

“Sir, I’m afraid we’ll have to ask you to calm down. Could I ask why you need to call the police?”

“I’m a journalist. I was abducted by a group of girls who also kidnapped a pizza boy and my best friend. We were all tortured.” The nurse was already giving him a weird look. He had to layer on at least a little bit of credibility before he was dragged off to the psych ward or something. “I’m friends with a police officer-  Kim Seokjin. He’s a senior superintendent. He’s looking for me. I can give you his cellphone number, call him and tell him that Kim Taehyung is here, in this hospital, with Jimin and Jungkook. Please. That’s all you have to do.”

The nurse took a deep breath. “I’ll have someone call him.”

He gave a huge sigh of relief and gave her Seokjin’s phone number, adding the number of the police station he headed just in case he didn’t answer otherwise. The nurse, who introduced herself as Kim-Yongsun, led him to an office and asked about the nature of his injuries. She started to believe him a lot more when he gave her the list of problems he could remember- the random cuts on his body from the glass, the bruise at the back of his head, the expertly stitched up shoulder non-medical people couldn’t replicate, hypothermia, hell, he even mentioned his organs because he didn’t know if there was some lasting effect from the torture.

Yongsun gave him a clear pass to be seen by a doctor, leading him back into the lobby, where Jungkook was being wheeled in on a stretcher accompanied by Jimin. After the staff decided to prioritize Jungkook first and foremost, Yongsun told Taehyung to wait in the lobby while she found out about Jimin’s issues in the office. He ignored the mutters from the others waiting and leaned back into his seat, only now feeling the full effect of the exhaustion. It was hours since he left the house. He crossed his legs, bounced them, shifted in his seat, switched seats, anything he could do to stay awake, until he told himself he was just going to ‘rest’ a little bit. He sat sideways and laid his head on the top of the chair, watching the doors.

He dozed off once or twice, each time snapping to attention whenever he noticed his head was drooping way too low. On the cusp of sleeping yet again, the doors opened and he nearly jumped. Seokjin limped in, looking worse for the wear with a bruised face but completely alive. He launched himself off of the chair, practically pouncing on his friend. Seokjin switched from serious to overjoyed to concerned in record time. “Where’s Namjoon?”

“He… he’s dead. I’m sorry.”

Seokjin’s face fell in the exact manner he expected, though it was no less heartwrenching. He gulped and nodded, looking down at the floor with eyes that were quickly filling up with tears. He blinked a few times and looked up, successfully stemming the flow. Even though they didn’t speak much Taehyung looked up to Seokjin, considering him to be as reliable if not more than Namjoon. To see him crack in such a way was very telling about how deep the friendship ran. “How?”

“One of the girls hid in the trunk with a shotgun. He stopped at a payphone and she blew his head off. I wasn’t fast enough to stop her.”

Seokjin nodded, jaw locked tightly. A few stray tears rolled down his cheek but he wiped them off, trying his best to stay professional first. “I understand. Where is she now?”

He had to make a snap decision concerning the truth, but he reasoned that any lie would only end up screwing him and Seokjin more. Although, there was the problem that Irene’s actions sounded more like a lie than anything he could’ve made up. He went through the entire scenario, giving all the details his tired brain could remember from the ordeal. It took a lot of explaining to address the fact that he let Irene go, but it went much smoother when he brought up Jungkook’s safety. The only detail he left out was Irene’s real name. That was his. He’d find out who Bae Joohyun really was.

Seokjin’s side of the story was equally crazy. After he left the attic he went straight for the ground floor to help Yoongi and find the girls. Yeri must have been snooping around the second floor rooms for her to have waltzed up into the attic the way she did, unimpeded by Seokjin. From the stairs he saw the girl holding the giant axe, identified by Taehyung as Seulgi, herding Yoongi and Wendy down the stairs. It was a cumbersome task that he immediately interrupted, shooting at Seulgi and driving her down into the basement. Since she dropped the axe to escape he assumed it would be an easy chase, but she knocked the gun out of his hand as soon as he entered the basement. They had a scrap where she hurt his face and leg, but soon enough she retreated again into the room where Taehyung was waterboarded. The door was completely solid and would require backup to pry open, so he went upstairs where he met with Namjoon and confirmed a clear path for him, Taehyung and Jimin. When backup arrived the mystery captive was taken to the police station so his identity could be determined, Wendy and Yoongi were sent to the hospital and Yeri was apprehended, painfully trying to claw her way out of the room and path of glass she mistakenly made. However, when the waterboarding room was breached, the remaining girls were gone.

When they were done with exchanging stories, Jimin had finished with his triage and apparently for quite some time. The doctor was ready to treat Taehyung.

Before he knew it, it was the next day and he was laid on a comfortable bed despite the horrible memories that it gave him. He insisted that none of the curtains should be drawn just out of the fear that if they were drawn he’d wake up back in the house, locked by the ankle to the bed. Jungkook required intensive care so he was still in the ICU, but Jimin occupied the bed next to Taehyung's. It was hard to believe that everything was over. It probably wasn’t. Joy, Seulgi and Irene were all free. But they finally had two important stakes into the group he assumed was called Red Velvet in the form of two of their members.

There was so much for him to do. Most people would assume he was finished after all he went through, but this was personal in so many ways. Whether he liked it or not, he was irrevocably tied with Red Velvet and more specifically, with Irene.

Chapter Text

Seokjin proved to be a frequent visitor, though his demeanor strangled the line between professionalism and outright grieving. Taehyung knew that Seokjin blamed him somewhat for Namjoon’s death, but he knew that his friend was too reasonable to attempt to pin it on him. Most of the time Seokjin would come in deceptively calm, smiling- less detail orientated people would mistake it for his genuine soft smile, but it wasn’t.

Even though he was a police officer Seokjin loved to take selcas on his private accounts, using fake smiles for the majority of them. Seokjin visited on their third day of recovery with the selca smile plastered on his face. Seokjin did his best to avoid any prolonged eyecontact, but Taehyung managed to see the puffy redness his friend was trying to hide.

If they weren’t both practical people Taehyung would've assumed Seokjin’s preference to speak with Jimin was born out of that grievance, but the conversations were always about gathering information. Since Jimin used to date Seulgi he was of far more use than Taehyung was and he accepted it. They did their best to hide the conversation from him, lowering their voices, drawing the curtains, but their beds were very close and he could still hear it. Jimin had no knowledge of what kind of person Seulgi actually was, but hearing her name thrown around so often and hearing about her as anything other than a murderer made him sick to the stomach.

The reaction was quite unlike him- after all, this was jealousy. There was no point trying to deny it, especially to himself. He knew that he loved Jungkook but there were feelings he had for Jimin that couldn’t be written off as simple lust or infatuation. He never had trouble with relationships like this simply because he didn’t have anyone other than Jungkook before. He dated around, tried to look for someone he actually cared about and actually swore off of dating as a whole when Bulletproof was formed.

Then came Jungkook.

Jungkook had been the last member to join Bulletproof officially, striding through the doors dripping confidence, dressed more professionally than anyone else in the room. There wasn’t a dress code at the time so people did whatever they liked. On this occasion Taehyung tried to go with an all black look, leather jacket, tight pants, black cap and even eyeliner. It was hell to wear but he loved the way he looked. Jungkook, on the other hand, was stunning in nothing but a white shirt, jeans and a black tie.

It wasn’t love at first sight by a long shot. In fact, the relationship developed much like Yoongi with Hoseok- filled with playful jabs. Jungkook wasn’t supposed to be anything other than a secretary so Taehyung took every opportunity to tease him while they were both in the office. It was only when Jungkook asked to become a journalist himself that Taehyung protested and that was when he realized he cared about Jungkook a little bit more than a normal coworker or friend should.

That was their first real fight, even before they were boyfriends. There was so much screaming between the two of them and the only one who stepped in was Hoseok, who-

“Jesus!” He swatted the hand poking his cheek away, glaring at its owner, Hoseok. He must have snuck in while he wasn’t looking. The curtains surrounding Jimin’s bed shifted and Seokjin poked his head out in alarm, only to return after Taehyung waved him off.

“You don’t usually space out like that, Taetae.” Hoseok grinned and patted his shoulder.

“I’m not usually in the hospital. Took you a while to visit.” He pouted.

“I actually visited Yoongi first.” The mood dimmed briefly but Hoseok smiled through it anyway, trying his best to keep the spirits up. “The surgery went well. He’s gonna be out of commission for a while, but he’ll be back in operation in no time. But hey- I brought you the one thing you couldn’t live without.”

Taehyung raised his eyebrow but nodded appreciatively when he was handed his laptop. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be handling an electronic device on a bed, but he was totally going to blame Hoseok for everything if they happened to get into trouble. Hoseok gave him a slip with the hospital’s wifi password and left him to his own devices, which was the nicest thing he could’ve done.

The very first thing he did was get into touch with his network of informants, which had shrunken considerably. A good number of his sources were gone in one way or another, either refusing to communicate with him or just cutting the line entirely. His first thought was that they had simply moved on and gone on to serve other clientele, but he quickly refined that thought further. They went on to serve Red Velvet. How else did they get all of the names of the current Bulletproof members so easily? There was the possibility that Jungkook gave that information, but Taehyung thought higher of him.

He used the informants that hadn’t completely betrayed him to learn more about Bae Joohyun. He skimmed first, looking for any mention of the name Irene, though it was nowhere to be found. Made sense considering how meager the information he could dig up on ‘Irene’ was.

Bae Joohyun started off as a promising model with a few successful small commercials behind her, but the majority of the buzz surrounding her came when people found out she was also an idol trainee. Her rising popularity skyrocketed her into the position of leader for a group that was set to debut but never did. Before the debut date allegations were brought forth that she was in a relationship with a male idol from a popular group that effectively ruined her popularity. Although the official statement from the company was that there was no relationship, the group was put on indefinite hiatus and she never returned to modeling. She eventually faded out of the public eye and no further updates on her or the group were posted.

His hunches were very rarely wrong and he took some small satisfaction at correctly guessing what she was beforehand, but he had no idea what she or Seulgi were actually like so he couldn’t take any real credit.  He spent more time digging on his own, but every website he found generally gave the same information, except for one. There was a blog that looked at SM trainees, largely outdated and now defunct, but it served as the most comprehensive guide to the trainees of Irene’s era. There was an update dated a few months after Irene’s scandal giving nothing but an address in Cheongdam-dong. Irene’s address, maybe? That was where SM headquarters was located, but he didn’t think it was a coincidence that it was near Joy Inc. headquarters and Joy’s very own private residence.

That fact made him a bit wary since Joy’s status as a public figure guaranteed that her reappearance would be quite soon. It was likely she’d stick to Cheongdam-dong and her penthouse in particular, more than capable of harboring both Seulgi and Irene. Bringing the law in would only end up backfiring on them since Joy could afford endless lawyers. They were, for the moment, untouchable.

He sighed and shut off his laptop, looking around for Hoseok to take it back, only to find that his visitor had already left. He awkwardly set the laptop down next to his bed and waited for someone, probably Seokjin, to take it back to his apartment.

They were all discharged around the same time, with Jungkook coming away perfectly healthy, narrowly avoiding chronic kidney disease. Taehyung had a good few scars to deal with as well as permanent damage to his organs, but at the very least he was alive.

The first thing he did was talk to Jungkook, but it was clear that he didn’t want to speak. It wasn’t quite the silent treatment because he replied, but his replies were always one word or non-committal grunts that didn’t mean anything. It was so frustrating to see Jungkook coming back to his normal self and yet what was supposed to be a great reunion was soured by fighting.

Settling back into normal life after being discharged from the hospital was difficult. Jungkook had been missing so long that he was no longer allowed in his apartment, although Yoongi was kind enough to retrieve his belongings before it was all trashed. Jimin’s house was utter garbage. That only left Taehyung’s apartment, which was still good until the end of the month. He had enough saved up to keep it going for a bit longer as well.

Even though he hated the thought of Jimin being forced to go back to that house and finding a job on top of that so soon after their ordeal, he knew that there was no other option. Hoseok was going to drive him and Jungkook to the apartment while Seokjin handled Jimin. All three of them were waiting in the hospital lobby for their respective rides, although Jungkook was sitting on the opposite side of the room.

Any attempt to sit near Jungkook was met with him switching sides again, so he bitterly sat down next to Jimin, who had seen plenty of their little squabble. Thankfully, he didn’t bring it up; he had other things on mind. “So this is it, huh? This is our goodbye.”

“Don’t think of it like that. We can still be-” He stopped his sentence short and glanced over at Jungkook, still brooding. “We can still keep in touch, no matter what.”

“Do you believe in destiny, Taehyung?”

He looked back over at Jimin, noting the way he stared wistfully at the floor, like he was staring at a vast expanse of stars instead of the wood floor. The slight way the right corner of Jimin’s lip raised, the lighting, even the curtain billowing behind him only confirmed one fact in his mind: he was entranced by how gorgeous Jimin was.

“I… I’m not sure about that.”

“I do. I don’t think any of this is a coincidence.” Jimin started moving his hand toward his, but stopped just short as Jungkook shifted to stare at them again. “The world’s different, Taehyung.”

He gulped and licked his lips, trying to find an appropriate response. He didn’t think Jimin wanted an actual philosophical debate, nor was he prepared to give one. “I think I know what you’re talking about.”

“You saved me. I’m scared and my heart is freaking out, but I think I’ve figured everything out. You’re my angel, my world.”

His gaze immediately went back to Jungkook. Even though they were fighting at the moment they had plenty of great moments together. He loved that straightlaced attitude because he loved bringing down those walls, having the privilege of being the only one to see his perfect smile. He loved that feeling of being cared for and protected even if it was in an overly strict way. Jungkook reined in all of his brash impulses.

But…

“Just let me love you.” Jimin murmured.

The drive back to the apartment with Jungkook was one of the most awkward things he had ever experienced. Not even Hoseok could defuse the tension between them, although he did delay the conversation they’d inevitably have. It was surreal opening his apartment door to find everything except his laptop exactly where they were when he left them. His bedsheets were crumpled, his blanket was off of the bed entirely and a thin layer of dust was on everything, but it was all there. It was just under a week but it felt like a lifetime away from comfort, from normalcy.

To be fair, it wasn’t comfortable or normal. Jungkook immediately started cleaning up the room, tidying up everything while Taehyung stood and watched. When the room was immaculate they sat next to eachother on the bed. Jungkook was visibly tense, hunched over, face pressed into his hands, stiff as a board. He held his breath, staring at the wall until his head start swimming. Eventually Jungkook rubbed his face and sat up.

“I thought about it and I can’t blame you for everything. I thought you were dead sometimes, too.” Jungkook wasted no time in reviving their skinship, hugging him warmly. “You love me too, right?”

“Of course I do. You know I love you, Kookie.” He felt guilty for how happy he made Jungkook then. It wasn’t a lie, nowhere close. He loved Jungkook so much, but that wasn’t the issue. He loved Jimin too.

Life went on despite the difficulties. He got a pretty good job as a magazine editor, though he knew it was 90% because of his looks and not because of his résumé. He applied walking in, got noticed by a woman who only introduced herself as Yoona and dropped hints that he could be more than just an editor if he wanted to use his looks a bit more. He was honestly considering it, but he wasn’t sure if his attitude or impatience was right for a modeling career.

Jungkook, on the other hand, had a lot more behind his name to use. He ended up becoming a marketing researcher, which meant they both got a good bit of money between them. Taehyung went out of his way to set out a small amount of his salary and regularly gave it to Jimin, who only had to work two jobs as opposed to four.

He really didn’t do much with Jimin. Every time he went over to give the money they just sat around and talked about what happened recently, or how Jihyun was doing, just regular things friends did. Despite that there was always the layer of danger, that any moment would lead on to something more. Before that could happen, there was one huge event that Jimin didn’t attend that Jungkook did.

Namjoon’s funeral was roughly a week and a half after his death, much later than what was traditional, but he was murdered during a police case so processing took longer. Since Jimin was also a witness to the murder Taehyung invited him informally, but he declined because they didn’t know eachother very well. There was just something about actually entering the funeral hall that really sunk the reality of Namjoon’s death into their minds.

The funeral home was massive but pristine, filled with rooms that had their own funeral services for those grieving. Even before they actually got into the right room they were treated to wreathes of elegant flowers positioned on the doors of all the rooms, though Namjoon’s seemed the biggest. Namjoon’s father stood by the door and greeted them, exchanged bows and handshakes. There was a little podium with a guest book and envelopes- while Taehyung signed the book, Jungkook filled up the envelopes with condolence money, all of the money they could possibly part with while keeping their personal finances afloat.

They finally entered the room and took off their shoes afterward, immediately stunned by a picture of Namjoon’s smiling face staring at them, surrounded by flowers. They both teared up but continued with the rites, bowing two and a half times to Namjoon before they bowed to Namjoon’s weeping mother and sister.

The rest of the funeral was spent in a dining room, family clustered at one end, Bulletproof at the other, while other friends of Namjoon filled in the middle. Even Yoongi was there, unable to eat much due to his surgery but politely eating nonetheless. All of their problems seemed so small when Namjoon gave up his life to save others. Nearly everybody was crying. The only person who outmatched Seokjin’s weeping was Namjoon’s mother, who cried out in absolute agony. The only person who wasn’t crying was a bespectacled blue-eyed woman Taehyung didn’t recognize.

She wore way too much makeup, garish blush over too-dark contour that clearly wasn’t blended in well. He could do a better job. Not only was her makeup horrible, she stood out because she had the gall to wear a hat. Her rocket metallic hair was tied into a bun that sat just underneath a black pillbox hat.

He put her out of his mind, at least until the end of service, caring more about comforting Seokjin. However, as soon as the dinner service ended, he excused himself from the group and made a beeline for the woman, who was leaving at a high speed despite wearing wickedly high heels. He speedwalked and managed to catch her right outside of the funeral hall building, once again relying on his hunch. If he was wrong, he just grabbed a random woman’s arm outside of Namjoon’s funeral of all places.

“Joohyun?”

“Just say Irene.”

Irene knocked off her pillbox hat and untied her hair, wiping away the makeup with the sleeve of her dress. In the short time they hadn’t seen eachother Irene managed to dye her hair and put in contacts. Reasonable, but it was shocking to see her so… different. The disguise was good, but her presence here made no sense.

“Why are you here? Seokjin’s going to tear you limb from limb. I’m going to tear you limb from limb!”

“No, you aren’t. You would’ve done it while you had the shotgun. It’s a good thing your police friend thought to look for it the first night, or I would’ve stolen it from your car.”

“Answer the goddamn question.”

“Red Velvet’s hiring.”

He shook his head in disbelief. Was she trying to taunt him or was she actually saying what he thought she was saying? “Excuse me?”

“The answer’s already there. Follow me.” Irene turned around to walk away, but he cleared his throat, already tired of the usual vagueness. He felt like he was going mad, though, since it seemed like he was starting to understand what Irene was talking about without her elaborating.

“What makes you think for a second that I’m going to-”

Irene spun around and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, dragging his face down to hers. “I already chose you.”

He paused and tugged slightly backward, trying to stand back up, only to be dragged back down mercilessly by Irene. “Are you actually going to help, or are you just fucking with me again?”

“What do you think?”

“Deal.”

Red Velvet was untouchable from the outside. Now Irene was offering him a way to get back at them- and he was going to take it. Even if it took his last, cold breath he was going to avenge Namjoon properly. Irene didn’t have leverage over him anymore. Jungkook was safe thanks to her, but she even ruined their reunion. He had no idea where his relationship was really at anymore.

He was going to bring the girls to justice, kill them or die trying.