Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Do you hear something?” you asked your boyfriend. You were lying down on the couch, head on his chest, watching an old movie on Netflix. This was your usual Friday night routine, and you hated that something might interrupt you. 

“Nope,” he said, continuing to stroke your hair. 

The sound of a hand pounding on the door had you both up abruptly.

“What the fuck?” said your boyfriend, as he eased you off of him. 

“No, don’t,” you pleaded, grasping at his sleeve.

“I’ll be fine,” he said, placing a kiss on the top of your head, as your mind filled with movie calibre dreams of anarchy, ghosts, and death. All were ready to ruin your run of the mill Friday. 

“What if it’s a bad–”

You were cut off by your boyfriend undoing the locks, and opening the door. 

On the other side was a tall man with glasses, big brown eyes, and a small mouth. His hair was tousled as though he had been running his hands through it frequently. His suit and tie were rumpled, and yet, he was stunning. 

“Hello,” he said. “Is this…” he trailed off before seeing you behind your boyfriend. The man called out your name that wasn’t your name. At least, not anymore.

“You!” he shouted. “Finally, I’ve found you!”

“And that’s enough of that,” said your boyfriend as he started to swing the door shut. 

The man’s shoe was quickly wedged between the door and the doorway. “Please, wait, these are for you,” he said as he waggled several large brown envelopes through the gap. “Please, I’ve been trying so hard to find you.”

“Let him in.” You rose from your place on the couch, and slid into the kitchen. “Would you like a drink?” you asked over your shoulder. 

“Water, please!” he answered. 

When you returned to the living room the man was seated on one end of the couch and your boyfriend was sitting on the other, arms crossed, a frown marring his features. You passed the man a glass of water, placing your own in front of you. 

“I don’t like this,” your boyfriend said. “Why is he calling you that?”

“It was my old name,” you answered. “I changed it many years ago.”

“Which made finding you very difficult.” The man gulped down the water so quickly, you wanted to tell him to slow down. 

“You changed your name?” your boyfriend asked, incredulous. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“We’ve only been together for six months.”

“Six months is a long time,” he said, through clenched teeth. He stood up and made his way toward the entrance. “Have fun with your new boyfriend,” he intoned, as he slammed the door shut. 

You winced at the noise. 

“Well, if you wanted to make my life more difficult, you succeeded. He’s going to be hung up on this for months.”

A thought occurred to you. “How did you even get in here? This building has fobs to open the door and the elevator.”

“I walked in after a couple."

“You’re lucky someone had my floor.”

“It took about two hours,” he said sheepishly. “But that’s not what I’m here to talk to you about! I-oh!” He paused, looking embarrassed. “My name is Jaejoong Kim, by the way. And I would like to discuss Mr Leonard Chow and his estate.”

“Mr Chow?”

“Yes, in case you don’t remember, about a decade ago you spent quite some time volunteering at a residential facility for seniors. Mr. Chow and you then continued the friendship for several years until you changed your name and left the city.”

“It’s my life,” you stated dully. “Of course I remember.”

You remembered Mr Chow fondly. When your community service edict was lifted, you still remained in contact. Your weekly phone calls had been something to look forward to every Monday night. They made Mondays more bearable. 

“I’m afraid–I’m afraid Mr Chow is no more, miss.”

You felt your heart skip a beat. This was not news you wanted to hear. You wanted to hear that he had dealt with his sorry excuse of a family and had taken a long vacation with a pretty girl. His family consisted of a herd of gold-digging children and grandchildren. As much as he laughed off their antics, you knew it hurt him. He was a human ATM for most of his life. When he was nearing retirement age, his family wanted access to his funds, going as far as to have him committed to a residential home for seniors when he was more than capable of taking care of himself and making coherent decisions. Luckily the doctors agreed about his mental capacity, though the fact that he had broken his hip the year prior was enough for the family to have him placed in a home. A home that they never visited unless they needed a cheque from him. It was disgusting. 

Regret clenched your heart. He was a good man and lent you his ear countless times. You had loved hearing about his youth, and even the drama happening in the home he was in had amused you. 

You could have called him. You could have messaged him. Hell, you could have written him a letter, even a postcard. But you hadn’t. You had just packed everything up and disappeared.  

You wished he hadn’t been alone when he passed, but you knew his family wouldn’t have been there to support him. He had certainly died alone. 

“--Estate,” you heard Mr Kim say and you snapped back to attention. 

“I’m sorry, what?” you asked. 

If Mr Kim was annoyed, he didn’t show it. “I’m Mr Chow’s lawyer, and have been instructed to execute his will. Currently much of his estate is in escrow at the moment.”

Oh no. 

“Thankfully, Mr Chow was very clear in his directives and his will.”

Oh no, no, no.

“Mr Chow has left his entire estate to you.”

No. 

Your eyes glazed over. This wasn’t what you wanted. You had a job, a nice, boring job that you went to with nice, boring people. Your neighbours were average. Your grocery store was average. Your life was painstakingly average and you meant to keep it that way. 

You could hear Mr Kim going on in the background, hearing but not computing his words as he pulled different documents out of the many envelopes. 

Mr Chow was well off, you were sure. The nursing home he’d been in, he had had his own wing and private nurses. You knew he hadn’t had any intention of bequeathing his estate to his family, but this was insane. 

“I don’t want it,” you said. 

You hated complications. You wanted a nice boring life with a nice, boring boyfriend who would turn into your nice, boring husband and with whom you could pop out nice, boring children.

This money would make it impossible to remain average. You could see yourself splurging on small things, and then it would snowball and BAM, your kid was thirteen with a Porsche. You couldn’t let that happen.   

“I beg your pardon?” asked Mr Kim. The papers he had been holding were now floating to the ground as he lost his grip. 

“Donate it,” you said.

There. That solved everything. If you had to choose, you had several foundations in mind that would be more than happy to receive some donations. 

“Miss, Mr Chow has already established how much was to be donated to charities, yearly from a trust, and that was carried out as soon as possible following his passing.”

“Charities love donations,” you intoned. 

“Miss, please. Several of the sites are currently housing relatives of Mr Chow or are families he was assisting with rental payments. If you donate everything without understanding what you have,--”

“Then I may affect an average person,” you finished. An average person who probably also wanted to remain average, and not dip into the negatives. You didn’t want to disrupt anyone’s life. 

“Yes,” said Mr Kim. “I have a short overview I prepared for you, if you would be willing to listen?”

“Sure,” you said, taking the time to finally take a sip of your own water. 

“All right. Well, there are six estates currently housing low-income renters; thirteen homes housing family members of Mr Chow, or their own renters; seven hybrids; seven estates currently unoccupied, –”

“I’m sorry, did you say hybrid ?” you interrupted, incredulous.

“Hybrids,” he corrected. “Yes, seven, I believe,” he said, shuffling back between papers. “Two larger predators, and five smaller prey.”

You took the papers away from them, hands shaking slightly. 

“They’re supposed to be free now,” you whispered. 

Mr Kim shook his head. “I know. But they were orphans, so when the legislature came out twenty years ago, they had already been in the system all their lives. Once they aged out, it was difficult, nay impossible, to find a home that would take all seven of their pack.”

Human Bridge Domestics, now colloquially referred to as “hybrids” weren’t new to your life. Hybrids existed all over the world and had for at least eighty years. Upon first release, they had been marketed as pets, maids, and nannies, but had remained rare curiosities for decades. Their population had grown significantly in the past twenty years. 

Hybrids hadn’t been seen as having the right to live their lives independently until twenty years ago. They hadn’t been able to have their own bank accounts, or rent their own homes without human cosigners. Eventually the exploitation of hybrid workers and the proliferation of hybrid trafficking rings became an issue the government could no longer ignore. Legislation was enacted that provided many supports to hybrids, now allowing them to drive, hold a job, and vote. Inter-species marriages had been made legal ten years ago, taking relationships that had been hiding in the shadows into sight. 

In the case of these hybrids, they had been orphaned, and spent their lives living in institutions. You wondered at their experience with the real world. Did they know how to get a job, rent an apartment, or even go grocery shopping? Throwing them out there with their “freedom” would be cruel if someone didn’t spend time with them and figure out each of their needs.. 

You gnawed your lip. There seemed to be a simple answer to this conundrum, but you refused to humour it.

You wondered what life had been like in those institutions. As an adoptee, you knew a little bit about government care; it left a lot to be wanted. Rooms were never truly warm, food was never quite enough, and punishments were meted out without discretion. 

You looked up. Mr Kim was giving you time to compute all of this. You were sure he wanted to get all his work done and just head back to his hotel but he had a kind smile for you. 

“Must have cost a lot of money to find me,” you said, looking back at the papers. They had very little information on them: a first name, a photo, and random names that didn’t seem to follow any pattern. 

“Well, it was urgent.” 

“You travelled halfway across the world. How long did it take you to find me?” you asked, suddenly curious. 

“Three private detectives and eighteen months,” he frowned. “You are a difficult person to find.”

“I should hope so,” you stated. You would thank the hacker who had dealt with erasing you from the internet and shutting down any connections between your new name and your old name, but you honestly didn’t know anything about them, minus their codename. The work had cost you a pretty penny that you hadn’t exactly had lying around, but you were glad it had been worth it. 

“So, where are they now?” you asked, mind back to the hybrids. 

“The name listed on each sheet is the family member who have been taking care of them for the past eighteen months.”

“They split them up?” you asked, shocked. Even the youngest of children, hybrid or human, knew that packmates shouldn’t be separated. You were pretty sure it was illegal.

“Mr Chow’s family is … old fashioned and divisive. No one could decide who would take the pack, so they all took a member. To be quite honest, they tend to ignore legislation they don’t agree with and just pay the fines.”

He sighed. “They will not be happy to see that you’re alive and well. They were hoping my sleuthing would find you also passed away. That way they would be able to divide Mr Chow’s estates amongst themselves.”

He smiled. “I’m glad to have found you though, miss.” 

“Me, too,” you said, realizing you meant it as you said it.

“They’re good hybrids, miss.” He continued. “Prior to Mr Chow’s death they were staying in a house all together. Mr Chow had food delivered to them weekly. They’re very self-sufficient. They wouldn’t get in the way.”

“You want me to take them? Shouldn't I send them to a hybrid centre? They would be around their own kind, and would be supported through this process.”

“Mr Chow trusted you. I trust his judgment.”

You frowned again. Did you have the time, the energy, the money to devote to a project this massive? 

How much sick leave did you have left, you wondered absentmindedly. 

Oh god, you had to call work. Tell them you were taking a leave of absence as you returned to the country of your birth to take care of seven strange hybrids you had never met before. 

Yep, that was going to go great. You were not looking forward to that phone call. 

“He wanted them together,” he continued. “You would be honouring a good man’s last dying wish if you–”

“All right, all right, all right,” you cut him off. “Enough with the guilt. I’ll do it. I’ll figure out what to do with the damn hybrids. 

“Now, how much money did Mr Chow leave me anyway?”

Mr Kim grinned. “Six point one three billion dollars.”

So much for staying average.

Chapter Text

The doorbell rang and you scurried to answer it. One of the hybrids was being delivered today. There had been a lot of trouble trying to get them to you: the family members who had divided them up amongst themselves did not want to let them go. They had sued, and Jaejoong was filing countersuits.

One of the main issues they brought up was that you were technically a foreigner. You had been born in the hybrid’s country but had left years ago. (Your home in the country you’d emigrated to was exactly that. Your home.) Not having lived in this country for over a decade was being used as a reason to not hand over the hybrids. The relatives’ lawyers spoke about permanency and stability. How did they know you wouldn’t pack up and leave once things got difficult?

In addition, they questioned your knowledge of hybrids. Did you understand that each hybrid had very different needs? Did you understand the importance of pack hierarchy? Could you be a stable and welcoming point of care?

The questions had worried you (and caused you to study various books about hybrid husbandry and care) but Jaejoong had insisted they were purely to annoy you into giving up on the hybrids. The more difficult they made it for you to attain them, the less motivated they thought you’d be. 

Unfortunately for them, it was the opposite. You wanted to know what was so special about these hybrids that the relatives were fighting so hard to keep them. Were they sweet? Great conversationalists? Were they talented? If so, at what? What was it about them that had the relatives clutching at them so hard?

You wondered if it was the novelty of “ownership”. Hybrids were technically all free now, so owning a hybrid was a rare thing. You wondered if the hybrids had been pets to them, only to be brought out at dinner parties and other soirees. 

You really hoped they hadn’t. Living like someone’s accessory was a sad way to live. It must have been frustrating when they had been living on their own for so long, and were suddenly under someone’s care again. 

Jaejoong had met with the hybrids already, several times, and continued to emphasize how much each hybrid wanted to leave their current housing situations and join back up with their pack. The way he spoke about them worried you. How were they doing, eighteen months away from those who knew them best?

You continued through the house. The house was relatively new, having been built within the last five years. New to you, and soon to be new to the hybrids as well. It had been one of the many estates Mr Chow had bequeathed to you. This one had been the least ostentatious, with wide rolling lawns and an outdoor pool and pond. There was a small forest toward the back of the property. And it was all secured by a large security fence with cameras. You had had the cameras put in immediately, on Jaejoong’s request. If the relatives complained for any reason, lack of outdoor space or time, poor treatment, you would have video evidence of the hybrids going out to play and relax.

The doorbell rang again. 

This particular hybrid (Jungkook, his name was Jungkook) had been released at the first mention of a counter lawsuit. He was a rabbit hybrid, and that was all your dossier had on the creature. No favourite foods, no favourite games, no favourite anything. You were working with a blank slate..

By the time you made it to the door (dear lord this house was huge: three stories, with numerous bathrooms and bedrooms, a massive kitchen, living room, and even a gym; you’d be happy to have some company) the doorbell had already been rung again. You were proud of yourself for not getting lost. 

You opened the door, eager to see the bunny hybrid. 

But all you saw were two bored looking security guards with a dog crate by their feet. (Did Jungkook come with a pet?) They both wore sunglasses and chewed gum. You could feel them glaring at you. The hatred was almost palpable and you wondered what you had done to affront them so quickly. Where they in a rush? Did you take too long to answer the door?

You couldn’t ask them, though. They didn’t let you speak, merely confirming your identity and asking you to sign papers, shoving a clipboard and pen into your hands. You stood on the wraparound porch with them as you signed everything as quickly as you could. The anticipation was starting to turn into nervousness. You didn’t want to be nervous. 

“Is he in the van?” You asked. You wondered where his luggage was. His precious items he had deemed worthy to be carted for five hours across the country. 

One of the security guards sneered. “He’s right here,” he said, kicking at the dog crate. 

“No, I mean the hybrid.” you clarified, cringing for the pet that had just been kicked. “Jungkook. Where is he?” 

“He’s where he belongs,” said the guard, kicking the crate again. To your horror, a moan of pain came out of the crate. “Where all these freaks belong,” continued the guard. “Fucking hybrids!” He spat on the floor before turning around and leaving with his partner. 

You stared at the crate in shock.

You were not equipped to deal with something like this. 

There was no way a grown hybrid was in that dog crate. They would have been hunched over, kneeling with their head to the floor. There was no way they’d put him in there. No way they had traveled the many miles it took to reach you with this poor hybrid suffering in the back of the delivery van. 

You needed Jaejoong. You needed to tell someone about this. You needed to get help. You needed—

You heard a sniffle and a hushed sob. 

You needed to help the poor creature who was stuck in that crate. 

You made your way to the crate, making shushing sounds. It was covered in a dark tarp, tied around it with thick twine. Twine you were going to need a box cutter to cut through. 

As you ran through the house, you thanked yourself for having had an interior designer organize everything about the house, from the floors to the junk drawer. You knew exactly where your box cutter was and you went to work at the twine once you were outside again. 

Once the twine was cut, you slowly pulled off a corner of the tarp. He wasn’t in a dog crate. He was in a cage. A literal cage. His poor body was basically a pretzel. It must have been hurting so much, the bars pressing deeply into his skin. 

“Jungkook?” You asked, finally saying something other than shushing noises and “it’s okay”. 

You heard a tired moan in response. 

“Jungkook, I’m going to pull this tarp off and I need you to keep your eyes closed, okay? It will be too bright for you so you need to keep your eyes shut, okay?”

You waited for an answer but heard nothing. You hoped he had listened to you. 

Once the tarp was off, you quickly figured out the latched lock and pulled it open. You tried so hard not to look at the rail thin hybrid hunched inside the cage. Tried not to notice his tattered t-shirt and too loose sweatpants. Tried not to cry at the many bruises littering his body. 

“Jungkook,” you whispered. “The top is open. You can come out now.”

When he didn’t move, you moved away from the cage and leaned against the side of your house. “I’m just going to sit here and you take your time to get up, unless you need my help.”

He didn’t move for at least five minutes before you heard him speak in hushed tones. 

“What was that?” You asked, getting to your knees. 

“Can come out?” He asked. 

“Of course!”

“Not test?”

“What? No, no tests here. All we have here is overripe bananas.” 

Which was true. You still hadn’t quite got the handle on ordering enough groceries for yourself, always overshooting. You didn’t mind, since you’d be ordering more and more food for the hybrids as they came to join you, but the bananas did start to smell after a while. 

You watched as he slowly unfurled from the confines of his cage. He held his hand over his big eyes, and looked at the floor. 

“Come inside,” you said, eager to hold him, to tell him everything was going to be alright, that he was never going back to where he’d been. But you couldn’t. There was the chance that one of the relatives would win a case against you, thereby setting a precedent for all the other cases. You never wanted to lie to the hybrids. 

He stepped out of the cage, and immediately went to all fours. 

You ran to him from your space by the wall. “Jungkook,” you said, putting your arms around his shoulders, pulling him back into a kneeling position. “Are you okay? Do you want me to bring a chair?” You thought about your computer desk chair, the one with multidirectional wheels. You knew you’d spent that extra money for a reason. 

“No crawl?”

Tears came to your eyes. What the fuck had they done to him? He wasn’t skin and bones, but he was gaunt. The full cheeks from the photo you had seen were gone. 

“No, Jungkookie, you don’t ever have to crawl here. Unless you want to.”

He nodded, allowing you to bring him to his feet. You pulled his arm over your shoulders, and pulled him inside. 

You offered him water and he nodded so strongly you both almost toppled over. Once you got your balance, you had him settled on a bar stool (thank goodness you’d gotten ones with relatively high backs), you got your cucumber water from the fridge. 

He drank like a man coming out from a week in the desert. You had to pull the glass physically out of his hands when he wouldn’t listen to you about drinking slowly. 

“You’ll throw up otherwise,” you admonished. 

He drank the rest of the water more slowly. When you asked if he wanted more he stayed silent, staring at his hands in his lap. 

“We’ll, I’m going to have more,” you said, pouring yourself a large glass and refilling his. You turned to the sink, washing the jug out before adding more filtered water. You threw in some more pre-chopped cucumbers (thank goodness for small conveniences) and set the jug back in the fridge. 

When you turned around, both glasses were empty and Jungkook looked miserable. There were tears in his eyes, ready to fall. 

“You did so well!” You complimented him. “Drank all the water like a good boy!”

He looked up at you in surprise, tears falling down his face. “Trouble?”

You shook your head with a sad smile. “No trouble here. Ever.”

You gestured to the fridge. “Are you hungry?”

He sat quietly, biting at his lips. 

“Don’t do that, you’ll hurt yourself,” you said, as you pulled his lip out from his teeth. 

“I’m going to have fruit,” you decided. Pulling out a fruit tray from the fridge, you placed it directly in front of Jungkook before sitting down next to him. 

“Mm, delicious,” you said, having several pieces. 

You could hear Jungkook’s stomach growl. Sighing, you took a piece of fruit in your hand and held it up to his lips which opened in surprise. You shoved the fruit as gently as you could, pushing his jaw up to close his mouth. 

“You better chew that,” you warned. “Or else I’ll pre-chew the next bite and feed you like a baby bird.”

An indignant noise came from Jungkook before he slowly started eating through the tray. Once about a quarter was gone, you walked around him and took the fruit tray to the fridge. You didn’t miss him putting several pieces of fruit into his pocket.. 

You really needed to talk to Jaejoong. This was looking more and more like a case of abuse. An incredibly intense one at that. 

You chattered inanely at Jungkook, telling him about the house and how you had gotten lost twice. That made his lips twitch almost in a smile which you considered a win. 

You walked him to the elevator behind the stairs. He stared at it in awe. “You and me both, kid,” you told him. You’d been living there for three months, trying to get the house ready for seven hybrids to live there for it’s you. You had had the elevator installed when you realized all the bedrooms were on the third floor. You hadn’t wanted anyone to lug their suitcases up two flights of stairs.

You wondered if any of them would have luggage. If all of them were living as Jungkook. If they would all arrive in cages. You hoped not. 

You passed various rooms on the third floor and you pointed out the many bedrooms and bathrooms. Some of the rooms had Jack and Jill bathrooms, attached on either side. Others had their own en suites, and there were powder rooms that were self contained. 

Jungkook walked along mutely, just behind you. You wondered how much he was really listening to and how much of your voice was a calm buzz. 

You pointed out the door to your room. “I took that one because it’s the biggest and had the nicest bathroom,” you admitted with a smile. “The closet actually fits all my clothes with room to spare.

“You can have whatever room you’d like,” you said. 

He pointed immediately to the door closest to your bedroom. 

“Sounds good,” you said, nodding at him. You checked your phone. “It’s about time for bed,” you stated. “Each room has some large plain mens clothing. We can buy you clothes that actually fit tomorrow. Get some good sleep and I’ll see you later, okay?”

He nodded mutely and moved toward his room. 

“Don’t forget to brush your teeth,” you called after him, thankful you had stocked the bathrooms with toothbrushes and other toiletries. 

He ignored you and shut the door behind him. 

Once your shower was complete, you walked into your room, hair tucked into a microfibre towel that had no business being as cute as it was. You were ready to slink into bed, your pajamas consisting of an old tshirt and a pair of sleeping shorts. 

You had the lights off and it wasn’t until you were ready to pull back your covers that you saw large eyes staring up at you from the bed. 

You screamed. 

The eyes continued to stare. 

You fumbled with the lamp on your bedside table. It refused to turn on after what felt like a dozen attempts but couldn't have been more than two. 

“Jungkook?” In the golden light of the lamp, he looked ethereal, large eyes staring up at you. 

“What’re you doing here?” You got on the bed, putting your hand on his forehead. It was warm but you remembered that hybrids ran warmer than humans did. You needed google and a thermometer. 

“Did you have a bad dream? Are you okay?”

He shook his head, his long hair stopping above his shoulders. It looked shiny and soft and you were glad he had made use of the shower as well. 

“Here for you.”

“Oh,” you said, a bit perplexed. “Why?”

 “Take care of you,” he said, his eyes meeting yours with a hard stare.

“Oh silly bunny,” you said, relaxing with a sigh. “I’m supposed to take care of you!” You sat back into your bed. 

He frowned and then nodded. “Okay.”

Then he started to pull his pants down, exposing himself to you. 

You shouted in alarm, turning away immediately. You waved your arm around behind you as you spoke. “No!

“No, no, no.” You began to babble. “I’m here for your physical, and emotional, and I guess mental well-being.

“Not sexual. No!”

You heard shuffling behind you and you turned around slowly, peering through a cage of fingers, trying to censor your view. He was clothed again but looked so confused.  

Well, at least you knew what you were going to yell at Jaejoong about tomorrow. 

“Go to bed,” you said. As he started to pull your covers off the bed, you corrected him again. “Your bed! Go to your bed!”

Still looking confused and a little dejected, Jungkook walked out of your room. 

You stood staring at your shut door for quite some time after. He had been abused, and intensely. Assaulted sexually. Hurt physically.  

Well, now you had a new topic to talk about with your counsellor. 

Wait, did hybrids have counselors? Could you hire one for a Jungkook? Could a human be a hybrid counselor? Or did hybrids prefer hybrid counselors? Were hybrid counselors even a thing? They must be. 

You decided all these questions could be answered in the morning. By Jaejoong. 

You crawled into bed and prayed for a restful sleep that would give you the strength to interact with Jungkook without immediately driving to Mr Chow’s relatives’ house and burning it to the ground. 

Jaejoong was an amazing support. How he made time to talk to you every day, you weren’t quite sure, but you appreciated it greatly. He had immediately begun taking notes once you explained Jungkook’s state. 

You tried to insist upon bringing it up to the judge, but Jaejoong cautioned against it. The relatives were likely to blame you for the most recent bruises which were quite extensive. The older bruising, which you hadn’t been able to examine, could be blamed on him being clumsy.  

You immediately had a hybrid counselor come to see Jungkook but he had refused to let you go, latching strongly into the back of your shirt, saying again and again that he was okay. 

Jaejoong and the counsellor had said it was okay, that you should just give him time. You worried about him though. Especially during the night. 

When it first happened, you almost screamed. 

You had turned over in bed, struggling to fall back asleep. You had trouble sleeping and would wake often during the night. You had taken to going for short walks up and down the hallways to calm your mind, which seemed to work. But nothing could keep you down all night long. 

When you had turned over, you had bumped into a softly snoring lump which, under closer inspection, turned out to be Jungkook. What the bunny hybrid was doing in your room, let alone in your bed, was a mystery to you. 

He would stay for a few hours and then return to his room. For a few days, you let it slide. Then you asked him and found out that the poor bunny was suffering from vivid nightmares. Of what, he wouldn’t say, but you could guess. 

So when you woke in the middle of the night, and you saw him there with you, you ignored him as best you could. 

Until you were walking through the hallways and heard shuffling and grunts coming from his room. 

You opened the door slightly, only to see a thrashing Jungkook, fighting off his blankets. 

You rushed to him, taking his face in your hands. “Jungkook, Jungkook wake up!” You tried to pull him from his terrors. “Jungkook!” But he was far too deep to be woken. 

So you straddled him and grabbed at his hands, pulling them together, despite his strength and your weakness. Hybrids were much stronger than humans, their animal DNA giving their muscles a boost. Jungkook seemed to lose this strength while asleep. 

Eventually he slowed his thrashing and his harsh panting breaths cooled down. 

“Noona?” He whispered, his ears flopping over his brows. 

You nodded, letting go of his wrists. “Go to sleep Jungkook, okay?” 

He nodded blearily at you as you tried to get off of him as  elegantly as you could. You were glad there was no one to see you almost lose your balance as you teetered from one foot to the other. 

And so, your nighttime dance commenced. If you caught him before he woke from his nightmares, you would pull him out and calm him down. If he woke and you didn’t catch him, you let him stay in your bed until he was ready to leave. 

You had awoken a couple times with his arms wrapped right around your waist, nose sniffling into your hair. You pretended to be asleep and he pretended he didn’t know you had awoken. 

Jungkook remained quiet for the next few days. He ate all the food you made or ordered, and kept himself and his room spotless. He was like your shadow, sitting quietly behind you, as you studied more about hybrids, as you cooked meals, as you cleaned the house. 

You hated how he seemed to be waiting for the other shoe to drop. You tried to be stable and calm. Reassuring him that everything was okay when he spilled a full glass of milk onto the carpet, his ears flopping down to cover his eyes in fear. 

You hated that fear. 

One day you lost him. You spent about twenty minutes walking through the house, trying to find him, eventually finding him in the laundry room. He was standing by the washer, a pile of clothes on the floor by his feet. One ear swiveled backwards when you entered but it quickly went back to facing forward once he realized it was you. 

“What’s going on bunny?” You asked. 

“Dirty.” 

He still wasn’t talking in full sentences. You weren’t sure if this was how he normally was or if this had been beaten into him by his previous guardians. 

“You wanted to wash them?” 

He nodded his head. He hesitantly continued to speak. “No break machine.”

“Oh, you’re worried the machines will break?”

Looking at the pile of clothes on the ground, you realized that you hadn’t taken the hybrid clothes shopping. For a week and a half. How the hell had that slipped your mind? He was walking around in dirty clothes and you didn’t even know if those clothes even fit him properly. How? How had you forgotten to take him shopping? (Your mind brought up snippets of conversations with Jaejoong, and you shook your head to clear it). You realized you hadn’t even shown him the sprawling back yard, the picturesque lake, or the small forest. 

Instead you had kept him housebound. 

“Don’t worry, Jungkook,” you said. “You can break a million washers and I’ll always just replace them, okay?”

It was early in the afternoon and you decided immediately that it was time to go shopping for a clothes. You would take him to the hybrid store and grab him some essential clothing, especially ones that would be better for his little fluff ball of a tail. Which you hadn’t seen yet, but were sure was super cute. You’d even have him help you get a handful of clothes for the other hybrids so they didn’t have to wear uncomfortable clothes when they came. (You hoped to god they came with their own clothes, and not locked up in cages, but god had been very deaf to your pleas all your life.)

“Clothes?” he asked.

You nodded. “I’ll give you a few minutes to get ready. See you in the foyer in ten?”

He nodded, and hopped away with more energy than you’d ever seen in him. 

The trip to the store passed unremarkably, except for Jungkook’s obsession with the seatbelt. He kept adjusting it again and again, seemingly amused at how it would snap back into the car. 

You found a place to park, and took Jungkook’s hand in yours. “I don’t want to lose you, okay? When the others are here, and we know what you can handle, then we won’t have to do this anymore,” you explained as you walked toward the hybrid store. It was the largest one near your house, and while you hoped it didn’t overwhelm the poor guy, you knew it was the best place to get high quality items.

Your arm almost jerked out of its socket as Jungkook yanked you as hard as he could. (Or at least, it felt like it was as hard as he could. You would definitely be feeling that tomorrow.)

“What’s wrong?” you asked him, looking around in search of a possible danger. 

“Others?”

You nodded absentmindedly. “Yeah, as soon as all the paperwork goes through the judges.”

“Hyungs?”

The look in his eyes was sorrowfully hopeful. 

“Yes, Jungkook. Your packmates are coming.”

“Hyungs?” he asked softly, tears gathering in his eyes. 

“Of course,” you affirmed. “I would never lie about this. You’re going to be with your pack again, I promise.” You smiled sadly. “It might just take some time.”

Jungkook smiled so beautifully, you were stunned. The hybrid was beautiful, that was for sure, but the innocent charm of his smile was beyond words. You were so glad he was still able to get happy and excited. 

He grabbed you in his arms and swung you around, your feet not touching the ground, ignoring your pleas to set you down, until you threatened to throw up on him. 

“Ah, Jungkook,” you said, panting, a hand to your mouth. “Warn a girl next time, okay?”

He smiled down at you. “Hyungs?”

You could see the change the thought of his pack members being around him made. 

You then W realized that you hadn’t explained anything other than the fact he was going to be staying with you for a while. You hadn’t told him how long or if anyone else was joining you. You hadn’t explained to him that while he was with you now, your goal was to move the boys to their own home, away from others, so they could live peacefully together. 

You hadn’t told him he was free to roam the house. Was that why he followed you everywhere? You hadn’t told him he could explore the backyard. Was that why he stayed in with you all the time?

You felt like such a jackass for assuming anyone had explained what was going on to him. The poor boy rarely spoke, so it wasn’t like he was able to ask questions when he was curious.

You were an asshole. You’d been failing at this since day one, and you hadn’t even realized it.  

“Yes, they’re coming to stay with us. I’m sorry, I thought someone must have explained this to you. You’re all welcome in my home until we figure out what’s the safest thing to do. 

“Now, if you could choose a few clothes for your packmates? I’d like to take them shopping myself but this will do until they show up.”

His eyes shone brightly in the light of the sun as he nodded. 

Upon leaving the store you were very glad of your new bank account balance. While it wasn’t the average, everyday life you craved, there was something about being able to slam a credit card down on the card reader and not have to worry if it would be declined. You felt powerful.

You hoped the money didn’t get to your head. 

You smiled as Jungkook carried most of the bags back to the car. You were given the lightest bag, and it was quickly snatched from your hands and placed delicately into the trunk of the car by Jungkook. He had loved the store, and while he had bought only a few articles of clothing for his packmates, you had gotten a sense of what everyone’s clothing style was. Yoongi was all black, Hoseok was charms and sunshine, and Jimin was a sultry kind of fashionable that had you intrigued to meet the hybrid. You couldn’t recall the others. 

“Did you want to see the grocery store?” you asked. You usually had your groceries delivered, but you hadn’t ordered any snacks. You wanted Jungkook to be able to have a choice in the foods he ate. 

The experience in the hybrid store had been good. Jungkook stuck to your side, but only by dragging you around everywhere. The store had been relatively empty, but vast. It didn’t seem to bother him, but you knew the grocery store would have more people.

You worried that Jungkook would be afraid or overwhelmed by all the people, but he ignored them all, his head swiveling around, trying to look at all the items at the same time. You walked slowly through the aisles, working your way through toiletries first. You grabbed Jungkook some full size unscented body wash, conditioner, and shampoo when he insisted he didn’t care what he smelled like. 

You walked into the hybrid aisle before the snack aisle. “Oh look,” you said. “Anything catch your eye?” 

You had stopped at random in front of the kibble section. Scientists had gotten good at creating food that nutritionally met hybrid’s needs while still being affordable. You had heard they weren’t the easiest to eat for humans, but hybrids had stronger teeth. You had heard, however, that the flavour left a lot to be desired.

To your surprise, Jungkook whined quietly behind you. 

“Jungkook, are you okay?” you asked. He had been totally fine seconds ago. 

He stared at the floor, ears drooping so low they almost covered his eyes. He pointed at the kibble. 

“Kibble? Oh yeah we can give you that!” You cursed yourself. You didn’t even know his favourite foods. You had been feeding him human cuisine of soups and salads, as recommended by the doctor’s report that Jaejoong had forwarded to you, the morning after Jungkook had arrived. The poor hybrid’s body wasn’t strong enough to process anything heavy for a couple of weeks. You had some kibble for emergencies at your place, but maybe he had a preferred brand? And you could always pulverize the kibble and add water? It sounded horrendous to you but–

“No,” you heard Jungkook mutter under his breath.  

“No?”

“No kibble," he said, pouting at the floor. 

You nodded. “No kibble. Thank you for telling me that, Jungkook,” you added. You wondered at the diet he had been fed at the relatives’ house. Was kibble all they fed him? (When they deigned to feed him at all?)

“Mad?” he asked, still looking at the floor, and your heart broke. 

“I will never be mad at you, Jungkook,” you said. “Okay, wait, maybe I’ll be mad at you, but I will always forgive you.

“Now let’s get out of this aisle.”

You worked through the following aisles with ease, picking up all the items Jungkook stared at for longer than a glance. In one aisle, Jungkook stared so hard at a banana milk carton display that you worried he was starting to have a panic attack. 

“Jungkook?” you asked warily, not wanting to spook him. “Do you like banana milk?” You couldn’t tell if he was ecstatic or destroyed. You walked around the cart slowly to him. 

“You want the banana milk?” you asked as you got to his side. 

Jungkook looked at you with a breathtaking smile, grabbed a box of banana milk cartons, holding them tight to his chest, and promptly began sobbing. 

The drastic change in mood was terrifying for you. You had no idea what to do. The textbooks you’d read had said nothing about what to do when a hybrid cried (sobbed really) in the middle of the grocery store while clutching at a box of banana milk. 

You patted his back softly with your hand. He looked at you and to your surprise, he was smiling through his tears. 

“Oh, are you happy Jungkook?” you asked. 

He nodded his head, sniffles drying up, wiping away at his tears with his spare hand. He shyly placed the banana milk into the cart. 

A week passed and Jungkook was no longer confined to eating soft foods. You were both happy for the change, especially when you ordered in Chinese take out for the first time. 

And every morning, after your call with Jaejoong, he asked. 

“Hyungs?” 

And every morning for a week you sadly told him no, not today. 

Jungkook had explored the majority of the house. He was no longer your shadow. He had set up some video games in one of the spare bedrooms. You hadn’t been sure what to buy or do but the rabbit hybrid had eagerly taken your phone from you and ordered all the materials he required. This included a 60-inch television with all the bells and whistles. You had been shocked at the price for it all, but it didn’t even make a dent in your wallet. 

For some reason, Jungkook refrained from going to the backyard. You weren’t sure why but the rabbit hybrid seemed to like the house more. You didn’t question it. 

He spent most of his time in the game room, but he still joined you to help cook meals. Or at least, he hovered close behind you, nose often sniffing the top of your head. And in the evenings, you still found him in your bed. 

Two more weeks passed. A lot of Jungkook’s bruises were completely faded. Unfortunately some had left visible dark splotches on his arms. The doctor had said they couldn’t be helped and may never fade completely away. Jungkook always denied feeling pain from the marks. You still hated to see the marks on his arms. 

Jungkook had been winning a very intense battle in his game when you came running into the room he used for his video games. You called it the game room. 

The poor hybrid was so surprised that he shrieked and threw his controller straight at the television, shattering it on impact. 

“Oops!” you shouted. “I should have knocked, I’m so sorry but Jungkook!” You couldn’t hold your excitement in your body. You were shaking. 

“Some of your packmates! They’re coming tomorrow!”

The two of you joined hands and jumped merrily about in a circle, hooting and laughing. 

Over the din, you could barely hear the faint voice of Jaejoong coming from the cell phone that you had carelessly thrown to the floor. 

You ignored it. This was a momentous occasion and you weren’t going to be distracted

Chapter Text

You and Jungkook were both quite excited for the return of his two packmates. Jungkook went back to being your shadow, refusing to leave you alone unless you needed the bathroom. At which point you put your foot down and had him wait by the door. (You also turned the faucet on, unsure if he could hear you over the noise.)

Seokjin and Jimin were slated to arrive today. Seokjin was a sugar glider hybrid (something you’d had to google) and Jimin was a fox hybrid. You had frowned at the paperwork, as it was again lacking much information. You’d also confirmed with Jaejoong that there had been a mistake in how many prey and predators were slated to arrive. Jimin was definitely a predator hybrid. 

You worried about him meeting Jungkook, concerned about the predator/prey dynamic. Yes they were a pack, but it had been almost two years since they were last together. You worried that instincts would overrun feelings, but Jaejoong had soothed your worries. You were still feeling cautious. 

You weren’t sure exactly when they would arrive, but you had been informed that they would be coming in the same transport. 

A part of you wanted to lock Jungkook in his room. If Seokjin and Jimin arrived the same way that he did, you didn’t want him to know, let alone witness their pain. But you knew the rabbit hybrid was incredibly excited. He kept grabbing you from behind, and hugging you tightly as you tried to tidy the house. 

You were also worried about the house. It was huge and lovely, but that only meant it was harder to clean. You and Jungkook only really used your rooms, the game room, and the kitchen. You worried about how you were going to clean it all. Wondered if the hybrids would mind a cleaning service stopping by every once in a while. You knew they were sensitive to scents and you really weren’t sure how happy they’d be with someone going through the house. At least the main floor could be cleaned, you decided. Once the hybrids were all settled. 

You hoped the others would encourage Jungkook to explore more, or at least spend some time in the other rooms. You felt like you had so many hopes pinned to the incoming hybrids. You didn’t want to overwhelm them with your own ideas though. You were sure they had their own ideas about how their futures would go.

When the doorbell rang, you were holding a Swiffer duster in your hands, reaching up to grab at some cobwebs while Jungkook shoved his nose into the crook of your neck. He knew you didn’t have any scent glands, but he had started nosing up to you a week or so ago. He was always scenting you aggressively before and after you went to meet Jaejoong for coffee to discuss the cases. (He always opted to stay home, happy with the chocolate milk you brought home for him.) 

You really wanted Jaejoong to tell the judges about Jungkook’s abuse. You were so worried that the other hybrids were suffering similarly. But there was no use. The hybrids always had clean doctors’ reports, always stated to be in the best health. They obviously had doctors on their payroll that were lying through their teeth. You hoped against hope that they weren’t lying and that the hybrids were really in peak health. Given Jungkook’s initial state, you doubted it. 

Jungkook froze behind you. You pulled yourself out from under him, as he had almost pressed you into the wall with how aggressively he was scenting you. You knew it calmed him, helped him feel more in control if his scent was on everything. Which happened to include you. You were happy to let him scent you forever if it meant he would always have that cute little smile on his lips when he decided he was done.  

Feeling both excitement and trepidation, you made your way anxiously to the door. Taking a deep breath, you pulled back the door. You couldn’t help having both your eyes closed, face to the floor. 

The security guards grunted their greetings. “Fox hybrid?” one asked. 

“Yes,” you said, opening your eyes and sighing in relief. There were no boxes at your feet. But there were also no hybrids before you. 

“Where-”

“Sugar glider hybrid?” he asked. 

“Yes,” you answered, feeling flustered. What was it with these guys and not letting you speak?

The guard who spoke nodded at the second one who had remained silent. 

“You some kinda hybrid freak?” asked the guard. 

“Am I a what?” you asked, mouth falling open in disbelief at the blatant ignorance. 

“Hybrid freak. Logs say these are the second and third. What’re you gonna do? Start a zoo?” He chuckled beneath his breath and your urge to shove your foot into his groin grew with each laugh. 

“What I do is none of your business,” you clarified. “And you shouldn’t talk about them like that. They’re human, too.”

“The day I call a hybrid a human is the day I die,” he scoffed. “Fucking freaks.”

Before you could argue, you realized that the second guard had returned. With several feet of chains in his hands. He had taken a few steps up the stairs. 

“Where do you want them?” asked the first guard. 

The second remained silent, holding the chains. He stepped to the left and you gasped. 

There were the hybrids, Jimin and Seokjin, in chains. Their arms were shackled together as were their feet, all tied to a long length of chain which didn’t look light at all, given the way the second guard was struggling. 

“Why the hell are they chained up?” you demanded. 

The guard tossed something at you before turning around to leave. You caught it as the second guard dropped the chain unceremoniously against the floor. You were sure it left a dent in the wood of your porch. But you didn’t worry about that at all, as you opened your hands. You were holding a thick key. 

“Wait,” you called after them. “What about the paperwork?”

They left without saying a word, driving away much too quickly for your liking. 

You stared at the hybrids. You could see both of them. One’s hair was shaggy like it needed badly to be cut, curling at his shoulders. He was shorter, and had pointed ears. That must have been Jimin. The other’s hair was trimmed close to his skull. He towered over you, staring at you like you were a piece of dirt. Seokjin.

He pulled his shackles in front of your nose. 

You startled. “Oh, of course,” you said, mentally apologizing as you worked the metal lock open from around his wrists .The metal came apart and you gasped at how red and angry the skin of his wrists looked. The shackles had purposefully been shut too tight. 

“Oh no,” you said, putting a soft finger lightly to the painful area. You didn’t miss Seokjin’s wince of pain, though he tried to hide it. 

“Hey,” you called behind your shoulder. “Can you grab the first aid kit?”

You turned back to the hybrids in front of you. Either Jungkook would hear and get the kit, or he wouldn’t; you would treat the hybrids inside regardless. You made your way through the rest of the locks, glad they all used the same key. You would have had a lot of trouble getting through the chain by yourself. You probably would have needed a blowtorch. 

“Come on inside,” you said as the last of the metal slammed into the floor of the porch. “We’ll deal with the metal later,” you continued. “Let’s get these injuries looked at first, though. I think it’s just the first layer of skin that’s rubbed off but I wanna look more closely.”

You put your hand at Seokjin’s elbow and slowly walked him into the house, hoping Jimin would follow of his own accord. Which he did. But he left the front door open, so you had to go around the hybrids to shut it yourself. 

This gave the hybrids time to look around and start making their own assumptions. “You’ve got more of us here?” asked Seokjin.

“What kind of a zoo are you opening?” asked Jimin. He angled his head a certain way, going from angelic to stunningly sultry. “A petting zoo?” he asked suggestively, sticking his tongue out of the corner of his mouth.

You startled at his remarks. Great, you were failing again. Right from the get go. 

It wasn’t like you had been planning for this for literal weeks. Wasn’t like you and Jungkook had prepared together what you were going to say, how you were going to say it. You’d found some of the pack’s favourite snacks, as well as some video games Seokjin enjoyed. Jungkook had been your eager helper. He was a sweet bunny with shining eyes that you couldn’t say no to. 

“No,” you said. “Nothing like that, I”m–!” 

You were cut off by Seokin grabbing you, pushing your face to the side and inhaling deeply from your neck. He shoved you away from himself, and held you at arm’s length, eyes daggers. You could feel the rage exuding from him. “What have you done to Jungkook?”

Jimin ran from his place by Seokjin’s side, grabbing at your shoulder, and sniffed you lightly. His face went from sex kitten to rabid lion. He shook you, hard. “I’ll fucking kill you if you–”

“Noona–” 

Jungkook stood in the foyer, taking in the scene. His former packmates grabbing at the woman who had freed him from his many cages. The first aid kit lay dropped by his feet. He was wearing a t-shirt, which emphasized the muscles in his arms, but also accented the dark almost-bruises that littered his skin. 

Seokjin spat fire at you. “What have you done to him?”

He turned quickly. “Baby, come here,” he said, calling out to Jungkook, arms wide. Meanwhile, Jimin gnashed his teeth at you, refusing to turn his back to you. The loud clack clack clack of his teeth echoed in the room. 

You didn’t blame the hybrids for their reactions. 

Again, this was your fault. 

You had failed to explain the situation. How would you feel if you came from a probably abusive household only to find your packmate’s scent all over a new human, along with said packmate covered in what looked to be like many bruises up and down his arms. 

“Baby, you’re so thin,” murmured Seokjin, slowly taking a step toward the frozen Jungkook, trying hard not to startle the poor thing. 

You choked on your words, your mind going a mile a minute. If you came to a strange place with your packmate bruised up, you’d go feral with rage. Maybe stab a few people. Ransack the house and then run away. Find a way to start over. 

You choked on your own spit, making a harsh gurgling noise, and Jungkook unfroze. 

“No!” he shouted, running to the two new hybrids. He grabbed at Jimin’s hands, ripping them from your shoulders. 

“Not Noona,” he said, carefully cradling you in his arms, back to his packmates. 

“It’s okay Jungkook,” crooned Jimin, hands pressing to Jungkook’s shoulders. “You don’t have to lie for her anymore,” he said.

Jungkook growled as he jerked himself out of Jimin’s hands.

The other hybrids froze in place, eyes locking with each other. After a terse moment, they seemed to reach an agreement. 

“Please don’t lie to us,” said Seokjin. “It’s us. You can trust us,” he said, voice heavy with emotion.

“Noona safe,” Jungkook said, rocking to and fro with you, dancing to a song only he could hear. He looked over his shoulder, gaze hard and angry. “Noona safe ,” he insisted. 

Jimin sighed, crossing his arms while Seokjin threw his hands in the air in exasperation.

“Fine,” growled Seokjin. “Your precious Noona is safe.” He and Jimin had another silent conversation as you pried yourself out of Jungkook’s arms. 

You turned to face the hybrids, Jungkook behind you, arms protectively wrapping around your stomach. His chin rested peacefully on your head 

“I’m sorry,” you said, to the shock of the hybrids. The only time a human apologized to them was for one reason and one reason only. To lie. 

It was always, I’m sorry, I promise this is the last time. 

It never was. 

“I should have started things off differently,” you continued. “Let’s tend to those wounds, and we can talk. Did either of you want water?”

The hybrids shared twin gazes. They both nodded. 

“Okay,” you said, headed toward the kitchen. “Jungkook, can you take the first aid kit and take them to the den?”

He nodded quickly, moving toward the first aid kit. 

“You have a den?” asked Jimin. 

“Human den,” you corrected. “A place to hang out casually.” 

“Sounds like a den to me,” murmured Jimin, shaking his head at you. 

And then you were gone. The three of them alone for the first time in almost two years. 

“Yah!” shouted Seokjin, breaking the awkward silence that had descended upon them. “Come here so I can scent you properly!” 

Jungkook smiled as brightly as the sun and ran into the arms of Seokjin and Jimin. He was nuzzled and cuddled and scented to the best of their abilities. 

“Hyungs,” they heard him whisper as they checked him over for more injuries. “Hyungs, okay?” 

“We’re fine,” they said, lifting his shirt to stare at his stomach. It was too thin, barely any fat. They continued their inspection, cataloging every mark carefully. 

An eye for an eye made the world blind, but humans worked fine blind. 

“Are you okay?”

Jungkook nodded eagerly, eyes bright.The smells of his hyungs were picking up his spirit in a way he didn’t know was possible.  

“You don’t have to lie,” urged Jimin. “Tell us, did she do this?” 

Jungkook shook his head. “No,” he said, the joy quickly disappearing from his face. “No go back,” he said, suddenly fierce. 

“No, no,” reassured Seokjin. “No going back.”

Jungkook grabbed at their hands and pulled them through a hallway until they made it to an open door. He walked in and there you were, sitting comfortably on a couch. 

“Have a seat,” you said, gesturing to the coffee table and couches in front of you. 

The hybrids shuffled around until Jungkook was tucked neatly between them on the couch. Jimin’s arm was around his waist, pulling Jungkook into his side while Seokjin had his arms around Jungkook’s shoulders. One of Jimin’s hands absentmindedly rubbed circles onto Jungkook’s thigh. 

You gestured to the glasses of water, the full pitcher of water, and the tray of fruit. “Please, eat, drink. We can talk after.”

You watched them look at each other, have yet another silent conversation, and then turn back to you. “Who are you and why are we here?” asked Seokjin. 

“You knew Mr Chow, yes?” you began.

The hybrids brightened at the name, but wilted quickly after. “They said he was gone,” said Jimin, looking bitter. “Dead.” You wished you could feed him some fruit to help wipe away the pain. A small distraction of sweetness to combat the sour taste in his mouth. 

You paused, taking time to think through your answer. 

You nodded. “Yes, he is gone.” Jungkook made a mournful sound and Jimin hugged him closer. “He passed away a couple of years ago.

“Did… did the other people explain anything else?” you asked, wondering how much you would have to share. You didn’t want to repeat old information. Something told you the new hybrids wouldn’t be happy with that. 

Jimin popped a piece of fruit into his mouth before he spoke. “They said we were with them forever.” He tilted his head, chewing softly. “They lied.” You heard the unspoken part of that statement. 

Humans always lie.

You put your head in your hands, elbows balancing precariously on your knees. You had your work cut out for you. 

“I’m going to get the first aid kit,” you stated, getting up quickly. 

You took your time meandering through the hallways. If they were anything like Jungkook, they wouldn’t want to show how desperate they were for food. You wanted them to eat well before you spoke with them.

When you returned, the water pitcher was half full and half the tray of fruit was gone. You wondered how much they had stored in their pockets. It had taken over a week and a maggot-ridden apple to convince Jungkook that food would always be available. 

You took a look at their clothes from your view in the doorway. Practical cotton outfits, in a uniform greenish grey. They didn’t look very comfortable and you knew from Jungkook and many other textbooks that a lot of hybrids were sensitive to different textures. You noticed that both outfits were too small, their red wrists and ankles bare.

Taking a deep breath, you entered the room again. Jungkook was shyly allowing himself to be hand fed by the other hybrids. His hyungs, you corrected yourself. 

You pushed away the tray of fruit and the dishes, giving yourself room to sit on the coffee table. The hybrids eyed you funny, but you just placed the first aid kit next to you and rumbled about. After sanitizing your hands, you put your hand out, waiting for Seokjin to give you his own hand. 

After a long look at you (and a not so subtle jab from Jungkook), he put his hand in yours. You winced at the redness of his wrists. 

As you began to tend to his injuries, you started to speak. 

“Mr Chow was my friend,” you said, letting the memories take you away. “My good friend. But we lost touch. Time passed, and I’m sorry to say, I forgot about him.”

You rubbed ointment as gently as you could into Seokjin’s wrist. 

“A man found me, told me Mr Chow had passed away, and that I needed to take care of his estate. This included seven hybrids, who had been living somewhat independently on one of Mr Chow’s estates.”

You put Seokjin’s hand down, into his lap, and gestured for the second. 

“I made my way here as fast as I could. I took leave from my job. When I got here, the man, Mr Chow’s lawyer, walked me through everything that had happened and what I needed to do.”

You put his hand down, and gestured for his leg. There was a pause, until Jungkook slapped at his thigh. 

You huffed out a laugh at Seokjin’s shocked face. He pulled his foot out of his shoe, not wearing any socks, and you cradled it gently in your hands, wincing again at the irritation from the manacles. 

“You guys were number one on my list. But Jaejoong, the lawyer, told me I had to be patient. Eventually he would be able to have you all released to me.”

You took Seokjin’s other foot into your lap, and treated it just as gently as the first, refusing to make eye contact with the hybrids.

“But the families are fighting it. They have strong connections within the police force and judicial system. So it’s a slow process, but I promise you, I’m bringing you all here as fast as I can.”

“Why?” asked Jimin, breaking the tense silence that developed after your last words. 

You looked up at him, surprised. 

“Why wouldn’t I help you?”

“So what, you’re an altruist? What’s gonna happen when we’re too loud, eat too much food, or break something expensive?” Jimin spat out angrily.

“I’ll go to my room, buy more food, and order a replacement item?” 

You hoped he didn’t see your answer as flippant. You were pretty sure he was waiting for you to list a ridiculous amount of rules and just as many cruel punishments. But that wasn’t what you believed in..

You made grabby hands at his wrist, before placing your hand out for his. He placed his hand in yours without looking at you. 

“That’s easy to say,” he said. 

“Then I’ll keep saying it. There is literally nothing you can break that I can’t replace in this house.”

You traded hands, his first not being too bad. 

“Besides.” you said with a smile. “This is just temporary.”

Jimin pulled back his hand like it was on fire. “You’re selling us?” His scream came out as a screechy whisper. You saw his tail puff out, his ears flat to his head.

You stared at him with wide eyes. “What? No. You’re not for sale!”

Jimin was on his feet, standing in front of Jungkook, Seokjin rising to meet him. “So you’re trading us?” 

“No!”

Jimin frowned, “You’re giving us away?”

You sighed. “Give me your hand, Jimin,” you said. The fox hybrid stood still for a moment, the only things moving were his ears, which were turning and quivering quickly. 

Sullenly he sat down, hand outstretched. Seokjin remained standing, arms crossed, brows furrowed.

You continued to speak, focusing on your task. “No one is being given away. No one is being traded. And no one is being sold. You’re conscious living beings. The only reason you need to be here with me is because you were brought up under care. They worry that you won’t integrate properly.”

“And that’s our fault?”

“I didn’t say that,” you said. “All I’m saying is that you’re safe here.”

Jimin huffed sarcastically at you. 

“And when you’re all together, and have shown me that you can function together, safely, I’ll set you up in an estate.”

“Where?” was Seokjin’s immediate question.

You took Jimin’s foot in your hands. 

“Anywhere. As long as it’s within the range of a grocery delivery service.”

“And what do we have to do?” whispered Jimin. “I’ll do it,” he said. “Don’t bother with the others, they don’t know anything.” 

His voice turned silky smooth, his gaze heated. His tongue licked at his lips suggestively. He bent forward slowly, at the waist, running his hand down his leg all the way to where your hands were. 

Your cheeks pinked up in response and your heart broke again. What had they done to him?

You pulled back abruptly from his foot, tube of ointment in one hand and a cotton ball in the other. 

“You just have to be you. If anyone asks you for something and you’re not comfortable with it, tell me. Even if it’s me.”

“So we live with you for nothing? Bullshit,” he sneered, leaning back and folding his arms. 

You exchanged his foot for the other. “I don’t think there’s anything I can say to convince you to believe me. You’ll just have to watch me, and see that I’m not lying when I say I don’t want anything from you. 

“I just want to help.”

“Who did this to Jungkookie?” asked Seokjin, changing the subject abruptly. 

“Whoever had him before,” you said, shaking your head. “He came in looking even worse, if you could believe it. The doctor says the splotches will stay with him.”

“Where was he before?” 

“One of Mr Chow’s relatives. Each of you was placed with a different family, all related to Mr Chow. How they got the judge to allow a pack to be separated like that is beyond me.”

“Money,” sneered Jimin. 

“Yes, well, unfortunately for them, and fortunately for you, I have the money now.”

You glanced at the clock, and turned back to the hybrids. “I’m sure you and Jungkook have a lot of catching up to do. Is there anything else you’d like to discuss before you head to bed?” You placed Jimin’s foot back down, unaware that you had been cradling it in your lap for so long.

Seokjin cleared his throat. 

“Yes, Seokjin?”

He sat down before he spoke. “I can cook.” He fidgeted at his sleeves, picking at the stray threads. You hoped the sweat suits you had picked up would fit. He was quite broad in his shoulders. 

“Oh, that’s nice,” you replied, confused at the abrupt change in subject, but happy that the hybrid was opening up so quickly.  “Good for you.”

“I did parties, dinners, catered events.”

“Wow,” you said, impressed. “You must be quite the chef.”

“It’s why my hair is so short,” he continued. “So there was no chance of hair falling in.”

You looked at him in surprise. “Oh, well, feel free to grow your hair here,” you said.

He frowned at you. “If I cook here… Can we eat it?” His eyes looked up at yours hopefully as he tore his gaze from his too-short sleeve. 

You tilted your head in confusion. “What else would you do with it?” Your thoughts were filled with Pinterest posts and instagram stories, of bakeries full of sweet and savory treats. All being painstakingly made, only to be wasted, as no one wanted to eat them.

It was Seokjin’s turn to eye you with surprise. “I wasn’t allowed to eat the food I cooked. Or the desserts I baked.

“Just kibble.”

You stood quickly, grabbing at Seokjin’s hands, pulling him to stand up. 

Holding his hands in yours, you promised him, “Seokjin. Anything you make in this house, you can eat. I promise.”

In the dimming light, no one could notice the way Jin’s human ears turned pink. “And the others?” he asked. 

“Them, too.” You paused. “And well, if I could try some, that would be nice.”

A thought occurred to you. “Oh, but if you ever don’t want to cook, I’ll cook! I make some solid dishes. Though Jungkook knows how much I like delivery.”

“I always want to cook for my pack.”

You let your hands fall, understanding the unsaid words. “Ah, I’ll make my own then.” 

What was wrong with you, just inviting yourself into a pack’s mealtime? You should have respected their privacy and offered to let them be alone together. 

Seokin stuttered, interrupting your thoughts . “No, no, no. I’ll cook for you, too.” 

You smiled outwardly, worrying inwardly that you had trapped him into cooking for you. The last thing you wanted to do was cause any of the hybrids stress or take advantage of them.

“Okay, I guess it’s time for bed and– Jeon Jungkook, did you eat the entire tray while we were talking?

The three of you stared at Jungkook who was looking up at you with his big eyes, fruit juices spilling down his chin. 

Jimin and Seokjin slowly moved to stare at you, as if ready for you to explode. Their eyes were wide, mouths parted in identical looks of horror. 

Your heart broke. 

“He’s all yours, boys” you said to them, as you turned around. You shook your head sadly on your way out. 

They didn’t deserve to live this way. 

When you awoke, it was not to the smell of pancakes you had been dreaming of (with extra butter) but the sudden whoosh of your blankets being pulled off of you. 

You groaned, half asleep, and tried to burrow your face into the pillow. There was weight next to you and then you were tucked into what you believed were your boyfriend’s arms. 

You murmured his name. 

“Who the fuck is that?” Someone hissed 

The harsh tone grated against your ears, but still you fought to fall back asleep. 

Wait, didn’t you break up with your boyfriend?

You tried to forget. 

But the voice kept whispering at you, and you tried in vain to drown it out with half formed thoughts and placed your hand over your ear. 

Someone growled behind you and you were pulled back and up into a sitting position. You were essentially in their lap, your back resting comfortably against their front. . 

Or it would have been comfortable if the person whispering at you didn’t start jerking about, yanking at your ankle. 

You heard a growl and you were sharply pulled from your half asleep state. You grabbed for the side of the mattress, looking for traction so you could pull against whoever was pulling at you. One hand grabbed onto the edge and the other pried at the fingers latched around your middle. 

“Why is Jungkook in your bed?” Whisper-screamed Seokjin.

You let go of the mattress and tried to sit up properly. Jungkook was attempting to burrow himself into your back. You managed to wiggle out of his grasp but the hybrid reached behind himself and pulled your blankets over and around his body. 

You turned to look at Seokjin, absentmindedly patting Jungkook’s head where it poked out of his blanket cocoon. 

“What time is it?” You asked blearily. 

Seokjin’s ears flattened on his head and his teeth gleamed in the soft moonlight, sharp and menacing. His tail flicked dangerously from side to side behind him. 

“The time doesn’t matter,” he spat out. “Get up, Jungkook,” he said urgently, trying to shake his blanketed form, but unable to reach behind you. “You don’t have to stay here!”

“He knows that,” you said. “I tried to stop him, but I didn’t want him to be alone.” Your hand continued to sweep through his hair. 

“He should come to me, not you!”

You rubbed your face with your hands. “Look, he’s obviously embarrassed at being caught here. You can take him with you if you want.”

You flopped onto your back and lay spread eagle on the bed. 

“He’s not mad at you, Jungkook,” you said, eyes closed. “He’s worried. Can’t you smell it?”

You sensed rather than felt Jungkook poking his head out of the blanket. 

The two of them had a whispered conversation which you tried to use as white noise to help you fall asleep again. Your tshirt was soft and warm and your sleeping shorts moderated your temperature well for you. 

You felt Jungkook get out of bed, and heard a murmured, “Bye-bye Noona,” and settled in to sleep again. 

Your plans for a passable night’s sleep were thwarted yet again when you felt yourself being slowly shaken awake. 

A glance at your bedside clock showed that it had been fifteen minutes since Jungkook had been escorted out. 

Seokjin stood in front of the window that usually let in the sun. It was currently letting in soft moonlight, silhouetting Seokjin as a dark god. His broad shoulders filled your view.

“Can this wait till tomorrow?” You asked, not really expecting an answer. You shut your eyes again. 

Seokjin shifted. 

“Jungkook explained that him being here wasn’t your idea.”

“No shit,” you remarked, immediately regretting your words. You were here to help and support, not to give them attitude. Yes you were sleep deprived and finally sleeping for once, but your experiences of discomfort paled in comparison to theirs. While it wasn’t the Suffering Olympics, the hybrids were all winning. 

 “I..” he stuttered over his words. “I’m sorry.”

You rolled over in your sleep, facing away from the handsome hybrid. 

“Forgiven,” you said. “Now go to sleep.”

You waited for ten minutes, trying to fall asleep but you knew you hadn’t heard your door open or shut. All you could hear were Seokjin’s slow, deep breaths. You attempted to sleep until you were annoyed enough to turn around. 

Seokjin was kneeling at the side of the bed. 

Was he praying? Did hybrids pray? Was there a saint for hybrids? Every single time you thought you knew enough, another subject reared up, showcasing your inadequacy.

“Seokjin,” you called out sleepily. “Could you pray in your room?” 

You sensed him shifting about. Was he uncomfortable? Had you committed some sort of hybrid faux pas? Was interrupting hybrid prayer a sin?

“I… I’m not praying,” he mumbled, still on his knees. 

You sighed. You were not going back to bed any time soon. 

You sat up with a huff. “Okay, what’s going on?” you asked, rubbing tiredly at one eye. 

Seokjin looked up at you quizzically before his expression hardened and he looked away from you, back at your bedside table. 

“I’m waiting for my punishment,” he said. 

You took a very deep breath and closed your eyes. You counted to twenty. You imagined your thoughts as tiny clouds floating away. You imagined yourself as a ray of white light flowing in the wind. 

Still the anger, no, the rage that you felt toward their former owners was overpowering.

You could sense Seokjin quivering. You were doing this wrong again. You’d left him alone to ruminate and think of the worst case scenarios. You’d let your rage scent the air, bitter and caustic. 

“Seokjin,” you breathed out once you had calmed yourself. You awkwardly got off of your bed. You got to your knees in front of him, grasping at his hands loosely. 

“Seokjin, I will never punish you,” you began. “Will I be upset with you for breaking a house rule or doing something dangerous? Yeah. But I’m not here to punish you.”

You waved your arms lazily through the air, pulling his hands along with you. “This is a punishment free house.”

“No go to sleep or I’ll read aloud the script of High School Musical until you leave.”

Seokjin stared at you, a puzzle he couldn’t understand. You could see all the cogs turning in his head, all his thoughts crossing across his face. 

Your heart hurt. You longed to pull the hybrid into your embrace, and soothe away his hurts. 

“Seokjin, I—”

“Jin,” he cut you off, hands still in yours. 

“Jin, please go to sleep. And when you wake up I’ll show you all the video games we bought for you.”

The hybrid brightened visibly. His tail was sticking straight up behind him, rather than loose and languid around his hips.

“Okay!” He said brightly as he let go and practically ran for his room. 

You lay back on your bed. You pulled out your phone to text Jaejoong. It was going to be a while until you fell asleep

Chapter Text

Jimin loved the clothes that Jungkook picked out for him. The hybrid had preened in his new clothes, thoroughly pleased by the fit and style. At least, that’s what you had heard from Jungkook about the elaborate fashion show Jimin had held.

Seokjin, sorry, Jin fit into his clothes all right, but his legs were a tad too long, ankles showing. You suggested going to the store again but both hybrids declined the outing aggressively. You were unsure if it was because of the large crowds, overwhelming choices, or their notion of transactional relationships. 

You had heard Jungkook explain the store with the banana milk he loved so much to Jin as Jin was cooking. So you knew they were aware of the existence of the stores, and how they worked. They also had been ordering groceries online for years before they had been torn apart. 

You worried they were keeping track of what they owed you. You worried they were scared of how they were going to pay for the things you bought them. It was one thing to eat the food at your house (they’d relied on Mr Chow for years so they clearly had no qualms with eating food a human bought for them) but it was quite another to let you buy them clothing. If the washing machine was working overtime, that was okay with you. You wondered vaguely at the idea of buying clothes online. Why hadn’t you thought of that earlier? If the hybrids ordered food for the kitchen, then they could order clothes for themselves.

You thought back to when Jin had paused upon his first walk into the kitchen, freezing in the doorway, the only sign he was alive being the rapid fluttering motion of his tail, sticking straight up and out.. 

“Is everything okay?” you had asked. 

Everything had been more than okay. It had been magnificent. Jin had told you that he couldn’t have imagined a better kitchen if he had dreamed it. There were two raised ovens, with cupboard doors that opened side to side to allow for more maneuverability. The dishwasher was state of the art, the fridge a masterpiece. Jin would have to reorganize, of course, but he knew exactly where he wanted what. 

Upon going through the drawers, he had audibly moaned at the Kitchenaid brand mixer with all of the attachments, as well as the Vitamix blender. The perfectly matching cutlery, the complete set of hibachi kitchen knives, everything had tickled his brain in the best way. Even some of the dishes were Wedgwood . 

He had spun in a slow circle, taking everything in before asking if he was dreaming. 

You had assured him he was not. And silently thanked the interior designer for their choices.

You smiled at the sweet memory. It was completely at odds with what was going on in the kitchen at the moment. You were perched on the edge of one of the stools lining the massive island, watching Jin cook. Or rather, you were watching Jin try to cook while Jimin and Jungkook both attempted to steal berries from the bowl Jin was using to decorate his pancakes. 

The two hybrids tag-teamed him, each pressing sticky fingers to his apron, asking for bits and bites of sweetness. 

“Done?” asked Jungkook, engulfing Jin in a huge hug from behind. Jimin took that chance to swipe several blueberries from the bowl, narrowly missing getting thwacked by Jin’s spatula. 

“Yah!” Jin yelled. “I told you I’d let you know when they were done!”

He shook his body, trying to free himself from Jungkook’s clutches. The bunny hybrid shook his head, rubbing his face against Jin’s back, smiling at you from afar. 

The hybrids seemed to be all right with you in their presence. Jimin was still put off by your existence, but seemed to tolerate you fine. He merely ignored you unless asked a direct question.

You were fine with this, happy he even let you be in his presence. You had been prepared to be avoided, shunned, blackballed out of the whole house by their presences. But Jungkook hadn’t let that happen. No matter what the hybrids were up to, Jungkook wanted you there, preferably tucked in next to him. You had managed to get your calls (most of which were with Jaejoong) settled as off limits, as was your time in the bathroom. As for sitting next to him, you had managed to persuade him that taking turns was fairer to everyone. He had pouted but agreed. 

It was only the first week but already you had joined them for a movie night, a video game tournament, and many of the board games you had managed to buy for the house in preparation for the hybrids’ arrivals. For movies, you ended up squeezed between Jin and Jungkook, or manhandled into Jungkook’s lap. The hybrid still scented you intensely, but you didn’t mind. Jimin scented Jungkook so much, you figured your smell was worn off often enough. Jungkook and Jin were competitive at video and board games. You and Jimin tended to fall into the background, listening to their bickering. 

Jimin tended to watch you. A lot. Blatantly and unnervingly. At first you had frozen at every instance, becoming achingly aware of every move you made. Each breath was tight and forced, your cheeks flushed. But after a week of hard glares and stony eyes, you had relaxed. It helped that he was a sweetheart when it came to Jungkook and Jin. 

It also helped that Jin tended to smack Jimin on the head whenever he caught him glaring at you. 

You startled when Jungkook pressed his chin to your shoulder. “Food, noona!” he chimed happily, before dashing away.. 

You bit your lip as you stood up and followed him to the casual dining room, instead of the dining parlour with its dark wood paneling and austere moldings. You had yet to make use of that room. Had yet to make use of so many of the rooms in this monster of a house. 

Jin had already placed the pancakes and fresh cut fruit and bacon onto the table in a beautiful display. All the hybrids were quickly piling their plates high with the hot food. By the time you sat down, all of them were scarfing down their meals. 

Jungkook frowned angrily around a bite of bacon, his tell for the food being delicious. His eyebrows would furrow and his eyes narrow as he ate. The first time this had happened, you had thought he didn’t like the food you were serving, but had realized you were wrong when he swiped at your hand when you tried to take the plate away. He had almost cried when he realized he had hit you, large eyes welling up with unshed tears. It didn’t matter that the swat had been soft and playful, he had hit you. You had ended up cuddling him all night on the couch, as he slowly ran his fingers through your hair, apologies dropping from his lips until you pinched him and continued to pinch him for each apology. His awkward squawks had had you both giggling. 

The hybrids were all digging into their food happily. You reached to grab some pancakes and Jin and Jimin simultaneously choked on their food. In shock, you stood up, your chair falling to the floor behind you with a thunk. Jimin and Jin spat out their food as you and Jungkook stared in confusion. 

The two hybrids hit the floor with their knees, hard. Both had their heads bowed and both of them were speaking over each other so urgently, you couldn’t understand what was happening. 

“Jin, Jimin, what’s going on?” you asked, your voice cutting through their babbling. 

Neither of them looked up, but they stopped talking. 

“I’m sorry,” said Jin, before getting cut off by Jimin. 

“No, I’m sorry,” said the younger hybrid.

“We’re both sorry,” sputtered Jin. “Please don’t hurt Jungkookie,” he implored, hands spread out, kneeling toward you. 

“It was our fault, we forgot,” said Jimin, also kneeling in your direction.

You and Jungkook exchanged looks, his cheeks puffy with half-chewed bites of bacon and pancake. He looked just as confused as you were.

“What… what did you forget?” you asked, grabbing your chair and righting it. 

“We, we ate before you,” answered Jimin. His voice was devoid of the usual spitefulness he invoked when he spoke to you. He sounded plaintive, subdued, and downtrodden. 

You hated it. 

You could feel the ire building in you. The hatred you felt toward their former owners threatened to overpower you. 

You also felt hatred toward yourself. How badly were you failing if the hybrids were this scared of you? You had no idea what you were doing wrong. You gave them space, (when Jungkook allowed for it), fed them regularly (at least, you let Jin feed you), and you often spoke of their packmates returning (the only time when Jimin seemed interested in what you had to say). . 

Jungkook seemed to trust you, but you couldn’t deny that he had most probably trauma-bonded with you. The connection you had, while strong, was as delicate as a spider’s web. Your bonds with each other were hazy at best. 

You breathed deep, exhaling slowly.

You sighed as you got into your seat again, loading food for yourself. “Please get up,” you requested as steadily as you could. 

“No need to be sorry,” you said calmly, gripping at your cutlery. “We talked about this before. You don’t have to wait for me.”

“That’s what you said ,” stated Jimin from his position on the floor, the venom in his voice harsh and biting. “But we know it was a test.”

You got up, walked behind the two hybrids and crouched next to them. 

“There is no such thing as a test in this house. I don’t know how they treated you where you were before, but that isn’t okay here.”

You frowned as both their heads remained bowed. 

You sighed, and went to the table. “You want to be punished?” you asked. 

Both hybrids nodded their heads and your heart broke. 

“We deserve it.” said Jin. 

“Just don’t hurt Jungkook,” Jimin said. 

You frowned at them. “And there’s nothing I can do to get you up and eating again?”

They shook their heads.Their eyes were down, refusing to look at you.  

Sighing, you reached for the table behind you, grasped loosely, and unceremoniously dropped a handful of warm strips of bacon on both of their heads. 

“AUGH!” They both yelled, grabbing at the fatty meat, oils coating their hands and hair.

“Why would you do that?” sputtered Jimin, immediately at his feet, frustration etched into his features. His eyes were narrowed in anger, normally smooth brow furrowed.

“My hair, my poor, handsome, handsome hair!” Wailed Jin, as he grabbed onto the soiled bits of his hair. Which was, unfortunately, most of it. 

“You were being silly,” you answered calmly as you walked back to your seat. Jungkook was dying of laughter next to you, his laughs big and boisterous. 

“HYUNGS!” he shouted, tears leaking from his eyes. 

“Ha, ha,” intoned Jimin as he started to leave the room. “It’s gonna be hell washing this out.”

He swatted at Jungkook on his way out, but Jungkook dodged him easily, his laughter bold. 

“This wouldn’t have happened if you ate your food like a normal person,” you said. “Don’t wait for me again.”

Jimin muttered something under his breath as he walked out that you were pretty sure you didn’t want to hear. 

“Princess,” said Jin. “When did you turn evil?” He continued to bemoan the state of his hair as he too left the room. 

You took a bite of your bacon. “That went well, didn’t it?” you asked Jungkook who nodded in agreement, a smile still wide and bright across his face.

One day you found all the hybrids sitting by the floor to ceiling windows in the reading room. They all looked so forlorn, hands pressed against the glass, noses breathing warm puffs of air in front of them, fogging the glass.

“What’s going on?” you asked.

The view they had was beautiful. The rolling lawn, and the small pond that was surrounded by little birds. The forest to the edge of the property had small squirrels roaming across in front of it. You wondered out loud if they would want to chase them, a little joke about their animal sides 

You didn’t get an answer. 

All the hybrids were sitting with their ears down, flat to their heads. 

“Guys?”

Triplet frowns stared back at you as they turned their heads as one. 

“Oh no,” you said, noticing the unshed tears in their eyes. You went to your knees immediately, holding your hands out. 

Jungkook immediately rubbed his head under your hand. After some hesitation, Jin closed his eyes and let himself be petted. 

“What’s going on?”

Jimin was the one to answer, as Jungkook manhandled you into his lap. His chin was perched on top of your head. One of your arms was then used to hug around Jin, his head resting lightly on your shoulder. You held your arm out for Jimin, unsure if he would come closer. 

Much to your surprise (and probably his as well), he joined you. It must have been pretty bad if even Jimin was seeking comfort from you. 

“When will the others come?” asked Jin quietly. 

You sighed. “As soon as possible,” you said, reaching up to pet his hair. 

“When is that?” asked Jimin as you stroked his hair as well. 

“I’m sorry I don’t know.”

“Doesn’t that stupid human lawyer know?” asked Jimin bitterly. “Why isn’t everyone back yet?” 

You ignored the insult. “Jaejoong is working as hard as he can to bring them here.” You knew he was. Every week you met him in person, reviewing the results from his work, showing how diligently he was trying to have the hybrids released to you, and every week he showed you how diligently the opposition’s many lawyers were trying to block his efforts. The fact that you talked almost every day, and not always about the hybrids, was something you tried not to think about. 

“It’s been two weeks,” said Jimin. “How do we know he’s even bringing them? How do we know you’re not just gonna keep us and let the others go?” His voice, which started off strong, went huskier and softer as he continued. “We need them,” he whispered. 

“They’re coming,” you answered softly. “I promise Jaejoong is trying as hard as he can to bring you all together.”

“How do we know that?” asked Jin. 

“Well, he got you guys out right?”

They hybrids all paused at that and then nodded. 

“We just have to give him some time to get through all the paperwork and red tape.”

“I’m good at cutting stuff,” said Jimin, flashing his hardened nails. 

“Not that kind of red tape,” you said with a smile. “Now why don’t you all go outside and enjoy the sun?”

“No,” said Jungkook from behind you. 

“No?” you asked. “It’s for you, though. You’re allowed anywhere on this property. You’re not stuck inside.”

“We won’t go till the others can go, too,” explained Jin. “We want to explore together.”

Your heart swelled with emotion. These were the sweetest hybrids. You didn’t understand how people could hate them so much when they were so kind and loving. 

You loosened your hold on the hybrids. “I’ll let you guys be alone–”

Three growls erupted from around you. “Or not,” you stated, laughing quietly, continuing to comb your fingers through their hair, avoiding their animal ears.. 

You stayed together for several more minutes, your hands stroking Jin and Jimin’s hair while Jungkook scented the back of your neck. Eventually Jimin got up, tail swishing happily, complaining about a crick in his neck. 

The other hybrids let you go and left the room with him. 

You turned and stared out the window at the lush greenery. You hoped the day would come soon when all the hybrids were outside and playing. You could almost imagine it.

One night, as you lay awake in the darkness, you heard disgruntled whispers and groans. At first you believed it was in your head, a waking auditory hallucination. You had heard your fair share of mumbled conversations as you fell asleep each night..

As time passed, the more and more certain you became that they weren’t imaginary noises. 

As you got up to investigate, the sounds got louder and louder. You rushed down the hall, passing Jungkook’s open door, where the hybrid was quietly snoozing, realizing the noises were coming from what was now Jimin’s room. You hesitated to knock, but after a particularly loud groan you rushed to the door, whipping it open, eyes wide. 

“What’s–”

The image before you was striking. Jimin naked, on his back, ass perched at the edge of the bed, legs splayed elegantly around Jin’s narrow waist. Jin stood crouched over Jimin, body gleaming with a thin coat of sweat, torso stunning, his hips slotting in against Jimin’s like they were meant to be together. 

It was obviously sex, and although he caught your gaze, Jin didn’t stop his pistoning hips. The two hybrids groaned in tandem and your whole body flushed with heat, your core tightening involuntarily. 

How long had it been since you were last intimate with someone? Flashes of Jaejoong came to your mind, unwanted and confusing. It was almost nine months since you broke up with your boyfriend and made your way here to the hybrids. 

Jimin moaned your name so sensually you could have melted. 

“You going to join?” he asked, breathless and jolting with each of Jin’s strong thrusts.Jimin was a vision from the gods, angelic but with the wickedest grin that disappeared when a particularly hard thrust shook his body. This whole time, Jin had been continuing his efforts, punching gasps from Jimin’s body.

For a second you entertained it. For a second you thought of how it would feel for Jin to be thrusting into you, Jimin holding your legs open, calling you a good girl for how wide you could stretch your legs for Jin. For a second you thought of Jimin eating you out like he meant it, tongue flicking and licking every inch of you. For a second you thought of Jungkook, his thick cock (you had felt it pressed against your ass and it was big ) opening you up as he went deeper and deeper.

Another groan broke you out of your reverie, suddenly aware of just how horrifyingly inappropriate you were being. You slammed the door shut, standing just outside of it, head pressed against the wood in keen embarrassment. 

These were your hybrids. You were trying to prepare them for the real world, not for having sex with random humans. If anything, that was what you wanted to avoid. The hybrids being self-sufficient and never needing to resort to anything of that nature to survive was the whole point of them being here. 

You should have seen this coming, you thought to yourself. Hybrids were highly sexual creatures. You were surprised this was the first time you caught them. As you walked down the hallway, you considered whether some of your earlier hallucinations these past weeks had been remnants of their lovemaking, echoing down the long halls.

You couldn’t believe that you had just stared like a creepy voyeur. Worse, you had fantasized about them. Imagined them in compromising situations, naked and wanting.  

You shook your head. How were you going to tell Jaejoong about this? 

Maybe some things were best kept as secrets. 

Jin and Jimin didn’t bring up the event in your presence. You were beyond thankful for their silence. You blushed when you got caught looking at them for too long. You tried to hide away in your room, except that Jungkook would whine loudly at your door for you to join the hybrids. You tried to keep your distance, and while it seemed to be working with Jin, Jimin was always behind you, always around you, and constantly falling asleep with his head in your lap. 

Speaking of sleep, the other two hybrids slept like the dead, unlike you and poor Jungkook. Even with the return of his previous hyungs, he still suffered from sleeplessness and nightmares. The nightmares tended to disappear when he slept with you in your bed, but that wasn’t always the case. Several times now you had had to awaken the poor hybrid from the throes of a particularly nasty nightmare. He would wake, panting, eyes wide, muttering under his breath. 

He was lucky in the sense that after that first nightmare, his sleep evened out for the rest of the night. 

Your heart still ached for him. And you might have felt just a touch honoured that the hybrid had chosen you as his designated nightmare partner. As much as you wished he didn’t have them, you were glad he trusted you to take care of him in such vulnerable moments. You had honestly expected him to rush to the beds of the others when they arrived. It had been a sweet surprise when he didn’t. 

You tried your hardest to fall asleep, but it was to no avail. You decided to go for a walk to the kitchen downstairs for a change of scenery, carefully extricating yourself from Jungkook’s firm grasp.

When you returned, he was gone, the only memory of him being the warmth of the sheets when you lay down for another sleepless night.

One week later, you rushed out to the hybrids who were all in the TV room, watching old action films that Jungkook promised were good. 

“Yoongi is coming!” you screamed. 

All three of them got up and started dancing around. Jin and Jungkook joined hands with you, JImin grabbing their other hands. You all danced in a circle, arms up and voices loud. 

“Yoongi! Yoongi! Yoongi!”

You all shouted, Jaejoong forgotten once again on the phone that was lying haphazardly on the floor. 

The boys spent the next morning preparing a banner for Yoongi, as he was arriving that afternoon. You had awoken to bright, shining eyes, and had almost screamed, until you realized it was just Jungkook, too eager to start the day. You’d normally struggle getting up that early but Jungkook was practically vibrating with how excited he was. 

Balloons had been ordered, as well as a cake and multiple noise makers. The foyer was covered in confetti from practicing popping the handheld confetti cannons. You worried the stimulation would overwhelm the new hybrid but the other hybrids were so excited, you let your worries go. 

When the doorbell rang, everyone froze. Jin was blowing up a balloon, as was Jungkook. (They were currently racing to see who could fill the most balloons. Jungkook was winning but only because he kept making funny faces at Jin, who would lose control of his balloons.) Jimin was deciding what colour noise maker to use. 

Using his hybrid speed, Jimin raced to the front door. Luckily you were also nearby the door, so you reached him seconds after he opened the door, just as he loudly blew his noisemaker in the face of a surly looking security guard. 

The guard took up all the space in front of the door. He was massive, towering well above your height. He held a clipboard in his huge hands, which looked tiny. 

He called out your name, and you nodded, pressing yourself in front of Jimin to stand between him and the guard. Jimin, while shorter than the others, was still easily able to see above you. 

The security guard pressed the clipboard into your hands, along with a pen. You tried to read the paperwork carefully, but you couldn’t seem to read, your heart racing in your chest. You breezed through the papers, glad that certain areas had been highlighted for you to sign. 

Upon finishing, you gave the clipboard back to the security guard who walked away without a word. Jimin grabbed at one of your shoulders, his other hand reaching for the guard. 

“Hey!” He shouted after the guard. 

The guard ignored him and started to make his way to the van he had driven up in. Another guard was slowly leading a dark haired hybrid out of the van. 

Your first impression of Yoongi was darkness. Literal darkness. His hair was jet black, his eyes shining shards of obsidian, the hollows under his eyes dark and deep. His hands were chained together behind him and he walked awkwardly, tilted, as if in pain, one shoulder jutting up uncomfortably. . 

“What happened?!” Shouted Jimin as he rushed past you. You couldn’t have held him back if you tried. He snarled at the guard walking him out, gnashing his teeth at him, startling the man. 

The guard dropped the chain in shock, taking several quick steps back, and Yoongi groaned as he felt the full weight of the chain on his body. You could see him struggling to stay upright. 

“Where are the keys?” you asked, urgently. “Someone unlock him!”

Your voice got the burly guard moving, clipboard in hand. He unlocked the chain from Yoongi and the hybrid would have collapsed had Jimin not been there. He struggled under their combined weight until Jungkook came dashing out, eyes wide in panic, Jin hot on his heels. 

Cries of “Yoongi! Yoongi!” filled your ears as the guards drove away, completely unbothered. Yoongi was caught in a huddle of arms, the hybrids excited to see him. 

“Guys, we should get him inside,” you called out from the porch. “His shoulder seems to be injured.”

You didn’t see how it happened but suddenly Jimin was leading Jungkook, who was holding an exasperated looking Yoongi in his arms, bridal style, up the stairs and into the house, Jin following close behind. You followed them in, excusing yourself to find the first aid kit. You really needed more of them, and more accessibly placed. There was no use in the kit if it took five minutes to find it. 

When you went to the den with the first aid kit, you could see the hybrids had settled around Yoongi. Someone had brought a tray of cut fruit and some water bottles from the fridge. Yoongi was settled between Jimin and Jin, the older pressing lightly at his left shoulder joint, pulling soft groans from Yoongi. Jungkook was kneeling over Yoongi’s feet, knees on the ground, his chin perched cutely on his hands that were carefully clasped over Yoongi’s knees. He stared up at Yoongi, eyes bright as- galaxies. 

Yoongi watched you carefully, eyes taking in everything and cataloging it away. You felt like a specimen in a lab, ready to be dissected. You weren’t fond of this process. The initial hatred, the anxious blustering, the sheer anger at the whole situation. 

“Noona!” cried out Jungkook, jumping to grab the first aid kit from you and hop right back to his place by Yoongi’s legs. Jimin took to hand feeding Yoongi, an amused smirk on his lips when he pulled the fruit forward at the last second. It took one silent look from Yoongi for him to blush and hold the fruit steadily. 

Yoongi’s eyes were on you, the hybrids introducing the two of you. 

“Hi,” you said with a small, awkward, half wave. 

He blinked at you before turning his attention back to the fruit and basically ignoring you. 

A man of few words, you thought. You could get used to that. He must become friendlier over time, otherwise you weren’t sure what the sweet hybrids you were taking care of had in common with the stoic hybrid.

“Can we have a look at your shoulder?” you asked. 

Yoongi shrugged, everyone else getting up around him to allow you room to examine his shoulder. He removed his threadbare shirt and you gasped at what you saw. 

His shoulder was a mass of bruising, bruises on top of bruises. The skin was a dark purple, almost black. You had never seen such an awful injury.

“I’ll get a doctor to come by tomorrow, first thing,” you said, wincing as you imagined how much the bruising must have been causing.

Yoongi’s large hands suddenly clasped your hand tightly in his grip. HIs eyes were focused on you and you couldn’t decide whether you liked this intensity or if the previous nonchalance was easier on you 

“No doctors,” he said, eyes earnest. 

You frowned, biting at your lip. “At least let Jin rub some ointment on it,” you compromised. 

He nodded, lithe fingers letting go of your hand and turning to Jimin, mouth open. 

“Yah, feed yourself,” huffed the younger hybrid, squeezing in next to Yoongi again. His actions belied his words, as he carefully chose a choice piece of fruit to press against Yoongi’s lips. 

You took that as your cue to leave. 

One night you were making your way around the house, your sleeplessness hitting you harder than usual. You heard voices coming from one of the hallways where the boys had created their hobby rooms. Jungkook had his little gym, Jimin his dance studio (complete with a wall of mirrors), Jin had a small room, full of electronics to help him play the many games he loved, and Yoongi had a music studio where he dabbled in things beyond your understanding. 

The noises were coming from the studio, where the door was half open. The voices became more clear the closer you got. 

“Want everyone to see,” murmured Yoongi. 

You stayed behind the door, curious about what was happening. 

You and Yoongi hadn’t interacted much, excluding him showing you careful lists of music equipment he required. Those were the only times he spoke to you, unless he needed you to pass the salt at the dinner table. The hybrid was meticulous, his careful scrawl barely readable. He always thanked you when you gave him his many boxes, 

You shook yourself out of your reverie and listened in..

“Want everyone to see what a little slut you are,” Yoongi continued, shocking you to your core. You froze immediately, unable to move even if you had wanted to 

You missed Jungkook’s response as your brain restarted, but caught on to the conversation again quickly. 

“Showing off your hole like this,” Yoongi continued, voice dripping with seduction. Jungkook moaned deep in his throat, the noises awakening something inside you. 

With that sudden clenching of your core, you knew you had to leave. This was obviously a private moment, one where they had forgotten to shut the door. 

You stepped to the side, ready to shut the door for them, so they could avoid more awkward situations. You used your foot, thinking it would be the most non-intrusive way to shut the door. But somehow your feet got mixed up and you ended up opening the door more. 

You froze in shame, eyes darting up to see if anyone had noticed what had happened. 

Yoongi was staring at you, a smirk on his lips, locking his gaze with yours. Jungkook was in his lap, naked, body flushed and shining, legs parted, Yoongi completely clothed in black. Jungkook’s body was stunning, a testament to the time he spent in the gym. He was thankfully looking away, eyes shut in rapture. Yoongi was cupping his balls up, pulling them and pressing Jungkook’s cock against his stomach so his dusky hole was visible to you.. 

You blanched. It was visible to you, and also the mirror that stood right next to the door. Yoongi must have been watching in the mirror. Must have been forcing Jungkook to look at what he did to him.  

Yoongi held your gaze as he pressed a finger into Jungkook’s wet hole. It was dripping with lube, slick and shiny. It went in smoothly and you knew right away that they had been at this game for a while. Jungkook’s moans were being seared into your brain, his whimpers pressed against your ears forever. 

Yoongi’s long finger moved slowly in and out, Jungkook panting with every move. 

“Want everyone to see how wet you are for me,” he said, eyes still locked with yours. “Only get this wet for me, right?” 

Jungkook moaned his answer, a drawn out yes music to your ears. 

Another finger joined the first and Jungkook’s cock started to thicken. Yoongi kept the same pace, smiling at the noises he was drawing out. 

“Want me to fuck you, don’t you?” he asked, fingers suddenly pistoning in and out of Jungkook’s sloppy hole, Jungkook moaning in response. “Wish my cock was inside you, right now,” he continued, smiling lewdly, his tongue pressing out against the side of his cheek

You turned around and ran up the stairs to your room, heart pounding, not understanding any of your feelings except that you were horny as you’d ever been. 

The Yoongi you had just experienced was miles away from the stoic, serious hybrid you were used to. Throughout this past week. although he complained loudly about his noisy packmates when they dragged him along to movie nights and video game tournaments, you always saw him sitting with them, quietly watching their actions. When he did speak, it was always curt, and yet somehow a drawl, his opinions welcomed by all. 

What you had seen tonight, that was a Yoongi you had never known existed. There had been nothing quiet or withdrawn about the hybrid. You had stepped into something that had not been for your eyes, and Yoongi had given you a show.

The worst part was that the only person you could think of to talk to was Jaejoong.  

There were times when you didn’t mind not having friends, but right now you greatly regretted not having anyone to talk to. There was no way you were sharing this with him.

Two weeks later, Taehyung was due to arrive. Thankfully Yoongi never mentioned the incident in his studio, and you kept your distance as best you could. Jungkook made that difficult by his need to have you nearby almost all the time. You blushed every time you saw Yoongi watching you, cursing yourself for noticing him so much.

But Taehyung was coming, and you let that take over your thoughts. You and the hybrids were ecstatic. Their little family was coming back together piece by piece. 

You had managed to get all the hybrids to wait inside as you dealt with the four security guards. (You may have told the hybrids something along the lines of who could make the biggest balloon for Taehyung as a form of busywork.)

Much to your dismay, Taehyung did not arrive like Yoongi or Hoseok. Taehyung arrived like Jungkook: bent over and pretzeled into a crate that was much too small for his frame, no matter how small he was. It was covered in thick protective plastic, and chained all the way around. 

You fell to your knees at the crate, making soothing noises, hoping Taehyung could hear you. 

“Can I have the keys please?” You asked, not wanting to look at the guards any longer. 

“You’re going to open it?” Asked the guard with the key. He exchanged wary glances with the other guards. “Your funeral,” he said. 

“Why, what’s wrong?” You asked from your position by the crate

“He’s muzzled,” said one of the guards. 

“Fucker likes to bite,” sneered another. 

“Bit three of my guys before they got the muzzle on him,” stated the first guard. 

“Can I just get the keys?” You asked, hoping to get Taehyung out of his misery and back into the loving arms of his pack. 

“Like I said, your funeral,” said the first guard as he tossed the keys at you. They clattered noisily at your knees as you missed his throw. 

You breathed in deep and slow, steadily trying to calm your nerves. You grabbed at the keys, flustered and shaking. 

“Taehyung,” you called out. “It’ll be over soon.”

You worked away at the heavy locks, wondering if you should call the rest of the pack to help. You wanted to shield them from the pain of seeing Taehyung like this. But you knew you couldn’t hide this from them. It wouldn’t be right. 

“Guys?” You called back into the house, glad the door was open and that the hybrids had superior hearing. “A little help?”

By the time the pack had run onto the porch, you had almost all of the locks open. 

You heard the hybrids coming, feet thundering across the cold tiled floor. 

“Where is he?” asked Jimin happily. “I won the balloon contest!” 

“No, me!” shouted Jungkook, ready to fight for his place at the top. 

You could almost pinpoint the exact second the hybrids realized something wasn’t right. You heard several knees thudding to the ground. 

“Is that–”

“No, not in–”

Everyone spoke over each other until silence fell. You heard the hybrids whining in distress behind you, and could hear Jimin and Jungkook quietly sobbing. 

“We need to get him inside,” Jin said, breaking their silence, pulling them into action. “His eyes will be sensitive to the light.”

The hybrids grabbed at the crate, still covered in thick sheeting, and dragged it into the foyer. The balloons lay forgotten, scattered like dead flower heads after a funeral. 

You opened the last lock and shrieked as the crate started to shake. 

Yoongi palmed the many light switches, turning them all off. The only light was faint and came through the windows, barely illuminating the scene before you. The hybrids could see clearly in this light, but your eyes had to adjust. 

“Taehyung!” Jimin called out his name before throwing himself at the opaque plastic sheeting. He tore the sides along the crate, managing to swipe a chunk off the front with his nails. 

Taehyung emerged majestic. 

He jumped out of the crate, blind. His eyes were bound, blindfolded, his hair a tousled, matted mess. He thrashed about like a wild animal, grappling with the muzzle on his face. 

The pack descended on him. Yoongi attempted to untie his blindfold while Jin worked hard at the straps of the muzzle behind his head. Jungkook tried to hold him in place but Taehyung vigorously fought against them all. 

Jimin was on his knees in front of Taehyung, hands reaching wherever they could find purchase on the threadbare clothing Taehyung was wearing. 

“Tae!” He shouted over and over. “Tae, it’s me! It’s us! You’re okay!”

Jin clicked off the muzzle and Taehyung roared so loudly you swore the windows shook. With a solid yank, Yoongi ripped off the blindfold. 

The first thing Taehyung saw was you. Standing plaintive and quiet, staring at him with too big eyes.  

“FUCK YOU!” He screamed at the top of his lungs, eyes locking with yours. 

“Fuck you, you fucking human! I hope you fucking DIE!” He lunged at you, snarling and biting, and the pack tried to hold him back, tried to get him to focus on them. 

“Tae! Tae it’s me!” Shouted Jimin, tears freely flowing down his cheeks. The rest of the pack called out similar cries. Jimin choked back a sob, grabbing Taehyung’s head in both his hands. “It’s us!” He pressed their foreheads together, despite Taehyung’s wild movements, his eyes still on you. 

Taehyung growled so loudly you swore you could feel it in your bones. How Jimin kept a steady gaze with him, you didn’t know. 

“Jimin?” Taehyung stilled. His head tilted and he sniffed at the fox hybrid. 

“Jimin!” The change in his demeanor was jarring. He wailed, throwing his arms around the smaller hybrid. He kept his face pressed to Jimin’s scent glands, breathing in eager mouthfuls. He reared back, still on his knees, eyes wild, desperately trying to take in all that was around him. 

Yoongi caught his eye, his tail erect behind him. 

“Yoongi-hyung?”

“What, you blind now?” Scoffed Yoongi. 

Taehyung abruptly began sobbing. “Is this real?” he asked. “I’ve dreamed so many times…” he trailed off into more tears. 

“It’s us! We’re here!” Called out the others. They managed to all get a hold of Taehyung, rubbing and scenting against each other. 

You left the room, quick to return quickly with a tray full of delicious smelling fruit and a pitcher of water, with a glass. 

By then the pack had unfurled somewhat from each other. They were all  basking in the presence of each other. So close to being fully together. 

You approached them cautiously, hesitantly optimistic now that Taehyung seemed to have settled. 

Taehyung caught your scent, eyes narrowing, teeth bared in a growl. “Who the fuck is that?” He demanded. 

You put the tray down on the floor in front of him and refused to catch his gaze. 

“Noona!” Smiled Jungkook. 

“Yeah,” coughed Jin, clearing his throat and wiping at his eyes. “She brought us here.”

“Hi,” you said softly with a hesitant wave. You couldn’t let a smile grace your features, not with the snarled glare Taehyung was giving you.. 

“You!” Taehyung sneered. “Why didn’t you come sooner!” He grated the words through his teeth, each one an angry barb piercing your thin armour of hope. 

“We could have been together if you’d just shown up!” He was yelling now. “I heard them talking! I know you just fucking hid forever on the other side of the world!”

“I didn’t know,” you said pleadingly. “I didn’t know–”

“You didn’t even know he died! If you’d just fucking cared, this wouldn’t have happened!”

He continued to thrash and gnash his teeth, lunging for you as Jin and Yoongi struggled to keep him away from you. Jimin tugged his face into his neck, petting at Taehyung’s hair, struggling to subdue the hybrid. 

“I’m gonna go,” you said quietly, as you scurried out of the foyer. 

You’d done it again. Fucked up yet another homecoming. Something that should have been a loving, glorious time for the pack was instead marred by your presence. Why had you wanted to be a part of this when it was so clear you didn’t belong? When truly, you were the cause of all their griefs?

You rushed to your room, eager to spill your heartaches out to Jaejoong.

Chapter Text

The next day, you tried hard to avoid the hybrids. They needed time to bond with Taehyung, and Taehyung needed time to be okay being in your presence. 

But your wish to avoid them was cut off the second you awoke. Jungkook was the first thing you saw, bright and hyper. He whisked you away to breakfast, where Jin had made waffles and sausages and prepared a thin gruel for Taehyung. You had stocked up on broths and other soft foods when you had first gotten to the house. The hybrids were so thin when they arrived that the vet (whom the hybrids refused to see via anything but FaceTime on your phone) recommended clear broths and bland foods for the first week or so. 

Jungkook nuzzled you strongly until you pulled away, grabbing at the food on the table, piling up your plate. You tried to be quick and focused on yourself, until you heard Taehyung growl. 

Everyone was looking at you. 

“Sorry, I wasn’t listening,” you apologized. “What did you say?”

“Of course she wasn’t listening,” snarled Taehyung. You could barely understand him with all the gruel he was frantically cramming into his mouth. 

“Say it, don’t spray it,” admonished a tired Yoongi. 

Taehyung responded by opening his mouth wide and chewing even more loudly. 

Jimin cleared his throat, fingers dancing anxiously over his cutlery, “Taehyung would like a room for himself as well.”

You nodded, chewing through your food. “Okay.”

“Not, not a bedroom,” Jimin continued softly, his fingers licking up speed before abruptly stopping. “He wants a room where he can paint.”

There were more than enough rooms in the house for each hybrid to have a room for their hobbies, and still have several rooms to spare. Why were the hybrids suddenly asking if Taehyung could have a room? Everyone else had merely gravitated to a room and demanded (Jungkook had begged, and oh, how you didn’t want to remember pulling him up off the ground, asking him to promise never to beg again) items to decorate or paint. Jimin’s room was waiting on the installation of flooring suitable for all the dancing he did. It was passable now, but no one wanted there to be any construction (loud noises, strangers, humans ) in the home when a new packmate was potentially returning.

“Of course,” you answered. “But why are you asking?”

None of the hybrids met your eyes. 

After several awkward moments, where all the hybrids shifted quietly in their seats, suddenly fascinated by their plates, Jin spoke. 

“We weren’t sure if you would let him, since– since he yelled at you.”

“You and Jimin have both yelled at me,” you countered, immediately. 

Jin and Jimin blushed, cheeks pink, eyes again turned away. 

“I’m sorry,” they spoke in unison, eyes on their plates. Both of them had their hands clasped tightly together in their laps. Your appetite disappeared at the sight of the two usually brilliant and cheerful hybrids suddenly turning morose and quiet.

Great. They thought you were harbouring a grudge from the first days you’d met. What an amazing supervisory job you were doing. Instead of slowly growing more and more comfortable with human interactions, you were making them fearful of you. The hybrids probably thought you were keeping score, writing down nefarious accounts in a notebook, locked deep in your room, only to come out when the rage inside you finally overpowered you. Where had these new feelings come from?

This wouldn’t do at all. 

“Apology not accepted,” you said, sighing as you pushed your mostly full plate away from you. 

“Join me in the den when you’re done,” you continued. As you stood up, ready to take your plate to the kitchen, you spoke again. “All of you.”

You stood quietly in the kitchen for almost ten minutes, trying hard to keep your breathing steady and your heart calm. 

It wasn’t working. 

The more you went over what you wanted to say, the less you wanted to speak. Why had you told them all to join you in the den? They were probably going nuts, running themselves into tight, anxious knots. You knew Jimin especially could be combative when he felt he was cornered. 

You made your way to the den, pausing in the doorway as you saw that the furniture had been rearranged so that all the hybrids were able to sit on a couple couches, pressed against each other. Jimin and Taehyung were draped all over each other, a tangled mass of limbs, Taehyung scenting Jimin strongly. Jungkook was tucked between Jimin and Jin. 

There was one seat across from them. You never felt more alone than when you set eyes on the lone seat, an island surrounded by isles of joy that interconnected, but sadly, would never touch yours. 

You cleared your throat even though you knew none of the hybrids needed a reminder that you were there. With their advanced hearing and sense of smell, they always knew where you were and where you were headed. 

You sat down in the chair. The only sound was the swish swish of several tails in the air. 

“So,” you said, eyeing each hybrid in turn, though Taehyung refused to catch your eye, preferring to glare off into the distance. “So, what happened?” you asked candidly. 

The hybrids exchanged glances, or at least the elders did while Jungkook bit nervously at his lip, and Taehyung stared at a corner. 

“C’mon guys,” you cajoled. “We were doing so well yesterday.”

“And what happens when you drop the nice act?” demanded Jimin. 

Taehyung sneered at you from behind him. “Don’t lie, I know humans. All they do is want more and more.”

“I don’t understand what you’re implying,” you confessed. 

“What happens when the pack is ready to your satisfaction?” demanded Taehyung. “Will that be with or without Hoseok and Namjoon? Is that when you’re going to sell us?”

You sighed, eyes closed, heart broken. All it had taken was one night with Taehyung for all your hard work, the camaraderie you had, to fall apart as it was nothing. You knew that the friendships you had been crafting with the hybrids were fragile. You just hadn’t realized how fragile. 

The mornings you had spent with Jungkook, Jimin, Jin, and their latest arrival, Yoongi, weren’t enough. They had thousands of mornings together, each memory sweeter than the last. The fact that you bought the hybrids everything they asked for, wasn’t enough. The hybrids asked for basic amenities, all of them happy to live a life of less. 

“I understand you’re scared,” you began, shakily. “I’m scared, too.”

I’m scared that I’m not enough. 

I’m scared I’m doing the wrong thing. 

I’m scared I’m hurting you. 

I’m scared I’m fucking this up. 

I’m so very, very scared. 

“Bullshit,” scoffed Taehyung. 

You clenched your teeth, jaw aching from unspoken words. You had to be the adult here, had to take the higher road. 

“I’m scared because I don’t know what happened between last night and today. We were fine yesterday, and now you’re all walking on eggshells. What happened?”

Taehyung snarled from the loveseat he was occupying with Jimin. “I reminded them of the truth.”

“And what is the truth, Taehyung?” You asked. 

“Humans are liars,” he started. “You lie and lie, and when we think you’re finally telling the truth, it’s a lie again. I bet Mr. Chow isn’t even de–”

“Don’t,” you interrupted, eyes hard. “Don’t talk about him like that. He was a good man and he was my friend.”

Taehyung sneered.  

Yoongi began to speak. “We can’t trust you. The people we were with before you were vicious, evil even, but they were honest in their cruelty.”

“You’ve been nothing but nice,” added Jin. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“If there are evil people in the world, doesn’t it make sense that there are good people as well?” you asked. “Or even people who are neutral?”

The hybrids looked skeptical. 

“She’s trying to confuse us,” said Taehyung. 

“I’m not,” you interjected. “But have I ever acted in a way that was not neutral or kind toward any of you?

“Have I ever acted cruelly? Have I ever punished you?”

You could see the hybrids churning through their memories, trying to think of an incident where you had wronged them, hurt them, punished them.

“No punish,” whispered Jungkook, into the silence. 

Jimin stood up, finger pointed straight at you. “You punished us for eating first!”

Taehyung stood up at that, growling at you, Yoongi looking at you in alarm.  

Jin sighed from his place next to Jungkook. “Jimin, sit down. We asked her to do that. And all she did was put bacon in our hair.”

Jimin paused as he thought back to the situation. Then he nodded dejectedly, settling back onto an antsy Taehyung, before whispering, “Yeah, I guess we did ask.”

“Why did you want bacon in your hair?” asked Yoong. 

“It’s a long story,” said Jin, cutting the conversation short. 

“No punish!” stated Jungkook much more loudly. He looked at Taehyung and stuck his tongue out at him. 

Taehyung rolled his eyes. “Yeah,” he started. “You’re good now, but what happens after?”

“After what?” you asked. 

“After you get tired of us, or your buyer backs out? What is your plan then?”

Your lips pursed tightly at his words. You went back through your memories, trying to remember a day when you had mentioned what the plan actually was. The plan to bring all the hybrids together, and let them live freely as a pack in their own pack home… had never been explained. Maybe once in the beginning days of spending time with Jungkook you had waxed poetic about how wonderful it would be for his packmates to join him but since then?

You were a terrible guardian. 

“The plan is to join all seven of you together,” you stated. “After that, we work on any skills you want to improve. Then when you’re feeling comfortable, someone from Hybrid Affairs will assess you, and let us know if you are ready to go back to living on your own.” 

The hybrids stared at you blankly. “And?” prompted Taehyung.

“That’s it. That’s the plan.” 

Taehyung scoffed. “What about the plans to rent us out like slaves? To whore us out to the highest bidder? To sell us to depraved and violent humans?”

“That’s step two,” you answered, unthinking. 

Why the fuck had you said that? 

Now was not the time to joke. Not when you were trying to gain their trust. Not when everything was teetering on a seesaw, one side desperation and the other side hope.

The hybrids reacted fiercely, recoiling into the couch cushions, eyes wide, ears down, tails stiff. Taehyung looked ready to jump you, Jimin in his lap be damned. 

“No, no!” you corrected. “That was a joke. A really bad joke.”

You tried again. “No one is getting sold! No one is being rented or traded or shared or whatever other idea you come up with. You are all staying together. All by yourselves”

“Noona stay?” came a pitiful whine from Jungkook. 

“No Jungkookie,” you said, pressing your hands to your knees, a sad smile on your face. “You’ll be with your pack. All of them. You won’t need me.”

“Need Noona,” he demanded, lower lip sticking out in a pout. 

“I have questions,” said Jimin, interrupting Jungkook’s mini pity party. Apparently Jungkook hadn’t realized that living with the pack meant just that. Living with the pack. There was no room for you there.  

“Shoot,” you answered, as you settled more comfortably into your chair. 

“How do we know that you’re not going to sell us?” he asked. 

“You’ll have to just trust that I won’t.”

“How do we trust you?” Jimin continued. 

“How have you been trusting me so far?” you countered.

Silence fell once more. This was in your top five most awkward conversations. 

“Hope,” whispered Jin. “You give us hope that maybe there’s someone else out there like Mr Chow. Someone who isn’t driven by money, who sees us, not just dollar signs.”

“Please hold on to that hope,” you said. “All I ask is that you treat me as I have treated you. Kindly and with respect.”

Jimin squirmed in his seat. “Soo, does that mean Taehyung gets a painting room?” He yelped as Taehyung jabbed him in his ribs. 

Yoongi answered as he got up, strolling out the door. “Duh.”

The other hybrids quickly followed, all throwing you small, tepid grins, while Taehyung gave you a suspicious glare. 

You got up slowly, shaking your head. You hoped the hybrids continued to listen to reason. You knew Taehyung was just scared, scarred from his past experiences. Hopefully with times he would come to trust you. 

The next day, you again decided to avoid the hybrids. They needed room to bond with Taehyung, and regain those strong pack connections. You hoped the space you gave them would allow them to do so in peace.

Thanks to Jungkook, that was, again, not an option. You were forced to hang out with the hybrids in the newest movie room (of which you had three, as the hybrids kept getting more and more daring with the size of the televisions they ordered). 

You were haphazardly manhandled into a position between Jungkook and Jimin, Taehyung on Jimin’s other side, his head on Jimin’s lap. Yoongi and Jin lay on the plush bedding, sprawled closer toward the screen, their tails idly swishing by your legs. . 

You watched them enviously. All the hybrids had such a way of understanding each other. Even after their petty fights, they joined back stronger than before. They were friends, true friends.  

Maybe one day you could be their friend. 

But friends didn’t look at each other the way you kept catching Jimin and Yoongi looking at you.

At first you thought you were imagining it.  

But Jimin was still coming too close. His hands were always on you somehow. One hand always found your calf, your ankle, or brushed against your thigh. 

Sometimes a tad too high on your thigh.

Did they talk about you?

And how you stared and stared? God, you hoped not. How embarrassing to catch them in such compromising situations. Such hot situations. Such blush-inducing situations. 

Your mind unraveled slowly. 

What if you pushed your legs open, needy and wanting. Jimin pressing his hand against you, cupping you gently over the fabric of your leggings. How long until he could feel how badly you wanted him, your arousal soaking through your panties, wetting the gusset of your leggings. 

A game of cat and mouse. 

Who moved first? 

Jimin or you?

In the end, you were victorious. Jimin hadn’t been able to control himself. Smug and rich, you smiled as you trapped his hand between your thick thighs. Now was when the fun began.  

You snapped out of your reverie abruptly. 

Jimin’s hand was still on your thigh, arm moving, letting his hand change positions however he wanted.

You said nothing. Not even when Yoongi grabbed your ankle and pressed his face into the side of your calf. 

Because even this much comfort was more than you deserved. How could you think such depraved thoughts about the hybrids? Especially when they were under your care? You were supposed to protect them, not lust after them. And here you were, fantasizing while they were in the same room! While they were touching you!

You wished and wished that you had a friend who was a girl that also owned hybrids. At least you’d have the option of confessing your thoughts instead of being tormented by them. 

You just needed to remind yourself that you loved living a boring, average life. Boring people didn’t get involved with hybrids. They dated humans. They lived their lives with other humans. They worked with other humans. 

So why did you feel so empty as you thought of your future without the hybrids?

Over the next few days, Jimin unexpectedly went through a phase of vandalism. Taehyung joined him. Unsure of what to do, you let the hybrids continue. Jaejoong had explained that Jimin was testing your limits, now that Taehyung had convinced him you weren’t who you said you were. Jimin wanted to see what happened when you were angry with them. Because he didn’t trust you not to hurt them.

After the sixth lamp and third vase broke, you decided to take action. There was only so much shattered glass you could pick up without getting annoyed. You still hadn’t brought up the idea of a housekeeper to the hybrids, not wanting to interrupt their healing. 

For the lamps, you bought museum gel. The curious substance made it so that the lamps and vases were virtually glued to the surfaces they rested on. With a house this big, it was crazy how long it would take you to outfit all the lamps and fragile items.You used the time to think to yourself about the past few days. You’d been able to give the hybrids more room, thanks to Taehyung. 

He was sketching everyone and kept asking the hybrids to come to his studio for a live sketch, in duos, or trios, or all together. Jungkook was too busy trying to hold still to bother you. 

Yoongi was the one who ditched the current sketching session first and so Yoongi was the one who walked in on you as you were working on the last few rooms. 

He looked at you, raising his well groomed eyebrow at you. Did hybrids do their eyebrows? Was that a thing? Were there hybrid waxers? You knew there were hybrid friendly makeups and skincare. You would have to go through the hybrids’ past orders and see what kind of hygiene products they were using. You worried they were just using the generic hygiene products you had bought out of necessity. You were more than willing to shower the hybrids with literal shower products, regardless of the price. 

Yoongi coughed, and you flushed, finding yourself frozen, holding an upside down vase with gel in your hands, and staring straight at him. 

“Um, I’m gluing down the fragile items, so that Jimin and Taehyung can’t knock them over anymore,” you confessed, ducking your head to focus on the case. 

You looked up and we’re so glad you did. Yoongi grinned and you wished you had a camera. If you could lock that moment in your mind, you would. His gummy smile was so sweet and charming. His head tilted in just the right way making the light hit his face like he was an angel.

He grabbed some of the glue and a vase, and started applying the glue to the bottom. You worked silently together, getting things done much more quickly than you could have by yourself. 

You were finishing up the last vase when you were overwhelmed with the warmth of a toned body. You froze. 

Yoongi was behind you. Yoongi was behind you and he was pressing himself dangerously close to you. Your position was awkward, with you stretched over a side table, placing a vase on a higher up shelf. 

“Yoongi?” you asked hesitantly, afraid to move. 

He nuzzled his face into your hair. You could feel him breathing, his breaths hot and heavy against your neck. Your brain malfunctioned and you shuddered. You swore you heard him chuckle. 

“Yes?” He drawled, stretching his arm slowly along yours, dragging the fabric of your sleeve forward along your arm. The heat of his body was tantalizing. You started breathing harder, unable to control your heartbeat. 

He was scenting you. You were sure of it. And yet it couldn’t be true. 

“What’re you doing?” You asked, afraid to hear the answer. 

“Yeah, what are you doing, hyung?” Came Jimin’s angelic voice, saccharine and angelic. 

Yoongi slowly rolled his body off of yours, the last point of contact being his very hard cock against your ass. 

“Helping put away a vase,” Yoongi drawled, the picture of detached elegance. 

“Oh?” Smirked Jimin, a sweet smile on his face. 

“Oops,” he said as his tail thwacked against a vase on the table beside him. He immediately yelped as his tail hit the vase and bounced right off. 

His frown deepened as he continued to bat at the vase with his tail, getting more and more frustrated. 

“What have you done?” He asked, teeth in a snarl. 

“Nothing,” you and Yoongi stated in unison, as Yoongi sauntered off deeper into the house. 

Jimin huffed, holding his fluffy tail in his hand. His eyes were dark, and his brows were furrowed. You wanted to smooth out the lines with your finger but you didn’t want to cross any lines. 

Jimin stalked over to you, silent on the pads of his feet. He tended not to wear shoes, just like the other hybrids. Some of them loved the cute fuzzy slippers you had bought, though. 

You took several steps back before leaning back against the same side table Yoongi had trapped you against. You had been here moments before with Yoongi and somehow this felt just as dangerous. 

Jimin stopped a step away from you, so close you could touch him if you lifted your hand. His tail whipped excitedly back and forth behind him and you fought the urge to reach out and touch it. You were constantly stilling your hands, afraid to touch what you weren’t allowed to. You settled on staring at it whip back and forth. 

“Hello,” he said in a way that was far too sensual. Jimin had a way with movement that made him devilishly enticing. Even his face, with a waggle of eyebrows or the lowering of his eyes could bring a reaction out of you. And not always one you liked. 

You tried to back away but you just bumped it to the side table behind you. You took a step to the right but Jimin took that moment to press his hand against the right of the side table. And as you moved to the left, he boxed you in. Your body felt tight as a spring ready to explode. You contemplated turning around but nixed the idea instantly. The last thing you wanted was a cranky, unpredictable hybrid behind you. 

“Hello?” You answered back, pathetically late. 

He smiled at you, running his arms up and down yours before planting his hands on your shoulders. You knew he was going to do or say something extremely inappropriate (and god how you wanted to stay!) and make everything even more uncomfortable. He tilted his head to the side and then lowered his gaze to your lips. 

So for once you took action, putting your hands on his hands, and spinning the two of you around. He followed you, surprised at your touch, and your sudden movement. 

“Gotta go!” You shouted as you ran off, fully aware that the hybrid could but would not chase after you. Jimin had standards and you knew he’d never be seen chasing a human around. 

You ran to your room, just in time to catch your phone ringing. You saw you had five missed calls, all from Jaejoong (who else would it be?), and answered quickly. You should have had your phone on you, as you always did, but you’d been too excited to try out the museum gel to remember. 

You listened carefully, and confirmed the news before throwing your fist in the air with a jubilant scream. You started talking details with Jaejoong and were quickly interrupted by Jungkook, followed seconds later by Seokjin and two of the other hybrids. 

You screamed, startled at their sudden appearance. Jungkook grabbed your phone and threw it across the room. Then he pulled you down to sit on the bed. 

“Noona? Noona okay?”

You sputtered inelegantly. “Did you just throw my phone?” You saw movement and noticed Taehyung standing uninterested in your doorway. 

“Scream phone! Phone bad!” Explained Jungkook to the best of his abilities. 

Yoongi picked up the phone, “Screen’s shattered,” he said dispassionately. “Your call is still on,” he said, disdain clear on his expression. 

“Oh dear,” you said, holding your hand out only for Jin to stand up and end the call on your behalf. 

“Jin!” You whined. “That was important!”

“More important than us?” Asked Jimin

“Technically—” 

You were cut off by Taehyung yowling. “I knew it! We mean nothing to you!” He yelled, face an instant glower. He hunched over, fists tight. 

Jimin looked at you utterly disappointed as did Jin. Yoongi’s face had gone blank. Jungkook looked up at you with watery eyes. “No important?”

“No you silly geese,” you said, wiping away the tears that started to shine right under Jungkook’s sparkling doe eyes. “That was Jaejoong,” you said, trying to explain. Some of the hybrids groaned while Jungkook only pouted harder.  

“Hoseok is coming!” 

To be honest, you shouldn’t have been surprised when the hybrids all piled on top of you, Jungkook acting as a shield, holding the others above you. He had been hitting the gym hard, building stronger and bigger muscles every day. They were coming in handy right then. And they would be even more useful when you tried to shove all the hybrids (who were all tickling each other now) out of your room. 

Hoseok arrived with very little fanfare. The thought of celebrating another packmate arriving scarred and starving felt off putting. The hybrids were all scarred from the last arrival. Especially Taehyung. 

He had taken his time, but had grudgingly and gradually became tolerant of you and your presence. He still scented everyone extra hard after they spent time with you, almost knocking his packmates over with the ferocity of his nudges. All the while, he complained noisily of human stink. The last time he went on and on for so long that Yoongi smacked his head and told him to chill out. Surprisingly, he quieted. But not until he sent a chilling glare your way.

Right now he was quiet and sitting back in an armchair. Jimin and Yoongi were squished together in another armchair, the seat only just too small for two people. Jin was pacing, and Jungkook was trying to alter his path by hugging him or pulling him down to the floor. 

The doorbell rang. 

Everyone remained silent. 

“I’ll get it,” you said, slowly getting up and making your way to the door. You had been sitting for hours, so your joints ached as you got up. 

You made for the door, sure that a line of hybrids would follow you. 

The doorbell rang again and you opened the door. 

You saw a smiling, bushy-tailed hybrid. He waved at you cutely before the security guard shoved some paperwork into your hands. You took the pen, still staring at the hybrid, and scribbled somewhere over the paperwork. 

You ignored the security guard,  kindly handing back the paperwork, eyes only on the hybrid. 

“Hoseok?” you asked. 

He grinned even more cheerfully at you. “That’s me!”

And you took a long second to really take a look at him. Bright, full eyes, and a narrow nose. His cheeks were pink and plump, his figure lean. He wore a fitted black t-shirt tucked into light jeans. He carried a black duffle bag behind him. 

He looked… healthy. 

You could hear the boys playing rock scissors paper behind you. You sensed more than felt Jin slide behind you, heard him take a deep breath as he looked up. 

“Hoseok-ie?” he asked. 

“Did you get a haircut?” asked Hoseok. 

“Hoseok!” shouted the other hybrids, running out onto the porch, jostling you in their rush to grab their packmate. You left to find some food, and a first aid kit. 

When you arrived in the den, Jungkook was in Hoseok’s lap on a cushion on the floor, and the others were sprawled haphazardly around him, all attuned to him. 

“Hoseok, BABY!” shouted Jungkook. You placed the two trays of fruit down on the table, along with a bottle of water you had shoved in your suspiciously deep pocket. (Had you bought mens jeans by mistake? Or were these jeans just incredibly well crafted?) 

You raised an eyebrow as you sat down, Hoseok already trying to correct Jungkook. “I worked in a nursery with toddlers,” he explained. “It was a lot of fun. I tried to teach them to dance and some of them had good rhythm.”

“And the others?” you asked. 

He shrugged his shoulders and you laughed. 

“Do you have any wounds that need to be treated?” you asked, pressing your hand on top of the first aid kit. 

“I have some blisters,” he answered, as Jungkook carefully fed him pieces of fruit. “But they’ll heal.”

“We have bandages,” you offered.

“No need,” he smiled.

“Do you have any questions?” you asked. 

“I’m sure the pack will answer them if I have them,” he said, smiling sweetly. 

“Well, I’m sure you have a lot of bonding to do, so I’ll leave you to it,” you stated, realizing you were politely being dismissed. You were glad it was polite and not in your face. 

You made it to the stairs before you felt someone following you. They grabbed at your shoulder, and you turned slowly. It was Hoseok. 

“Jungkook,” he started before clearing his throat and beginning again. “Is he… is he okay?” he asked, looking concerned. 

“He’s talking … different.”

You smiled sadly. “The therapist I spoke to, one he didn’t want to talk to, said it was probably a trauma response. We just have to give him time. He knows he’s talking like that. He just can’t help it.”

Hoseok nodded sagely, throwing you a quick smile, and walked back to his pack. 

You walked despondently up the stairs to your room. Alone.  

Hoseok fit into the pack so smoothly, it felt like he had always been there. He’d give a corrective sharp eyebrow twitch when the younger ones (and Jin!) got too rowdy, and was always there to support Yoongi, with whom he seemed to have a deep connection. The past two weeks had been the smoothest so far, with minimal snark from Jimin and Taehyung. 

As long as you didn’t count the night you crawled into bed, saw a Jungkook already there, and tucked yourself in on the other side. That night, when Jungkook had hugged you from behind, you’d felt his fingers moving delicately up and down the side of your arm, raising goosebumps. He’d nosed against the nape of your neck, and when he planted a firm hand on your hip, slowly sliding it forward, you jumped out of bed, dragging the blanket with you, draping it across yourself. 

Jimin was in your bed. “C’mon Noona , won’t you let me play, too?” He smirked in the moonlight and you foresaw how devilish he would be. Bringing you to the edge over and over, only to smirk and taunt you more. You imagined yourself, breathless and panting, clad in nothing but your own skin, on display for his eyes – 

Bad idea.

The only way to get him out had been to hit him repeatedly in the head with your firmest pillow. Even then, you knew he was just humouring you. He could have had you on the ground in a second with his hybrid strength.

“Want Namjoon-hyung,” whined Jungkook from his perch behind you, knocking you out of your reverie. You and the hybrids were playing hair salon for Jungkook and the bunny had retreated behind you when he looked in the mirror and saw his bangs. (They’ll grow! Jimin had insisted.)

“Jae says it shouldn't be too long,” you soothed. 

“I hate Jaejoong,” muttered Jimin and Taehyung simultaneously under their breaths. 

“This Jae guy talks a lot,” stated Hoseok, as he put the second and final pigtail in Jin’s now much longer hair. 

“No he doesn’t,” you answered, continuing to comb through Yoongi’s silky hair. You’d been doing it for quite some time but there was something so soothing about the motion. Yoongi didn’t seem to mind either, especially when you went over a certain area that made him purr. 

“He’s the only human you talk to and you talk to him every day,” said Taehyung in a voice that sounded surprisingly sulky. 

Were you neglecting the hybrids? You tried to keep your conversations short but they often ran for hours, you and Jaejoong’s talking about anything under the sun. 

“Yeah, why do you have to phone him every day?” Asked Jimin, joining in on the complaining. 

“Noona,” whined Jungkook from behind you, rubbing his nose against your back. “Noona, phone Jungkook.”

You sighed, a bit exasperated and petted Jungkook’s hair. “I don’t need to phone you, Jungkookie. You’re right here.

“Besides, none of you have cell phones.”

You paused, the information taking a second to sink in. 

“Oh no, none of you have cell phones!” 

Yet another item you had failed to provide for the poor hybrids. You would be lost without your phone. How had you not thought about this? You needed to sit down and make a list of all the things the hybrids could possibly need. Including clothes. Did they have enough clothes? You hadn’t been monitoring the phone that they used to order things online. You needed to get on top of that.

“We’ve never had cell phones,” intoned Yoongi.

“We need to get you some,” you decided. “So you can call each other in case of an emergency.”

Yoongi harrumphed like an old man. “Unlike you humans, our packs stick together.”

“But what if one of you wants to take driving lessons?” you asked. “Maybe dance classes in a real studio for Jimin, or a gym with more equipment for Jungkook? Or art classes for Taehyung?”

They hybrids grudgingly agreed. Yoongi grabbed at your hand that had stilled, getting you started on combing his hair again.

You shuffled down the hall, eager for a glass of water. 

You heard voices and your face flushed. You’d managed to steer clear of more accidental peep shows by carefully avoiding the bedroom hallways. But this time when you walked downstairs the voices only got louder, not quieter. 

“It was so bad,” you could hear Jimin. His voice was soft but unmistakable. 

He was hushed by whom you were sure was Yoongi. You started slowly down the stairs, hoping to avoid the two and grab your water. Luckily they seemed to be away from the stairs and kitchen. They were probably hidden in one of the many padded nooks of the house. 

You got your glass of water and slipped as quietly as you could to the stairs. 

“They made me dance,” said Jimin, sounding flat and lethargic. “They made me dance… naked.” 

He sobbed quietly and your heart broke. 

“And then I let them touch me,” he continued, a heartbreaking explosion of emotions. 

Yoongi growled fiercely and in your mind’s eye could see him pulling Jimin into a heartfelt hug. 

“No, they made you!” Corrected Yoongi. 

“I stopped fighting,” confessed Jimin, voice as soft as a flower, heart as broken as crushed glass. “I stopped fighting because it hurt. It hurt so much, hyung.”

“That’s okay,” said Yoongi over and over again. “That’s okay.” 

You made your way quickly up the stairs, feeling intensely like a voyeur of the worst kind. You had invaded a deeply emotional scene that you had no business involving yourself in, even as a listener. 

It wasn’t until much later in the night, with a warm Jungkook by your back that you realized that with their superior hearing, both the hybrids must have known you were outside the room when they were divulging their secrets. 

Your heart ached once more, and you pressed your hand tightly over where Jungkook was holding you.

After a day out, meeting Jaejoong and going over more paperwork, (there was always more paperwork), you entered your home, and slowly made your way to the coat closet. (Of which there were three, but you preferred this one as it was closest to the door.) 

You walked absentmindedly, typing a text out to Jae, thanking him for his continued support and hard work. You weren’t looking up, eyes focused on your phone screen. 

You were engulfed. 

That was the only way to explain it. 

You were free and then you were engulfed. Engulfed in the thick scent of Taehyung. You could barely see anything, your body tucked tight against his, face pressed into the crook of his neck. All you knew was Taehyung. 

“Stink,” was all you heard before you felt him scenting you, desperately. You felt his tongue a few times, and shuddered at the raspy texture. You checked to see if he would let you go, and pulled away from him but he wouldn’t let you. Flustered and annoyed, you settled in, waiting for him to finish. He lifted his head, and immediately pulled you so his face was rubbing against the other side of your neck. After a minute, he seemed to be satisfied, but not until he gave your ear a little nip. 

You yelped in surprise, putting your hand to your ear. 

“You stank,” he said, talking in what you like to call TaTa voice. He looked innocent as the devil. 

“I do not stink!” you yelped, fighting the urge to lift an arm and smell your armpit. You swore you wore deodorant today. 

“ Stank ,” he emphasized. “I fixed it,” he said. “You smell like us now.”

“What did I smell like before?” you asked, curious. You had never asked the hybrids what you smelled like. You wondered if you shouldn’t have asked.  

“Like garbage.”

You shouldn’t have asked. 

“You just don’t like Jae,” you accused, pulling off your coat and putting it into the closet. “He’s the only other person I spend time with, so he’s the only other person I could smell of.”

“Time with him is time that could be spent with us,” came his careful whisper, sending shivers down your spine. He was behind you. (Why were they always behind you?) He wrapped his arm around you and clasped one hand firmly over your soft stomach and used his other hand to pull your hair away from the back of your neck.

You stumbled over your words. “I… I need to meet him to sign papers,” you explained. 

“Can’t do that online?” he asked, mumbling against your neck. 

You frowned, wetting your lips. He was right. But you needed someone, anyone, to spend time with you and let you know you were wanted. Even if you didn’t want them back. 

Being around the hybrids all the time was stifling and a slap in the face. You had left your boyfriend for this, your friends for this. And now all you had were daily calls with Jaejoong, who, while being extremely cute, was still technically under your hire. The friends you’d had, you’d drifted apart during this almost year long journey. You’d been so busy, and Jaejoong had been so kind….

You took too long to respond. 

You felt a soft press of lips against the back of your neck and then he was gone. 

When Namjoon arrived, it was a surprise.

The doorbell rang, and Jungkook ran to answer it. Grabbing the groceries you had delivered every week and carefully lifting them into the kitchen was fun for him. He got to show off his muscles and strength, as well as sneak extra treats if Jin wasn’t watching him carefully. (No you can’t drink six banana milk in one go! Jin has shouted once.). 

This time, there were no groceries. 

Jin tore into the room where you were sitting, listening to Yoongi’s latest song. You were encouraging him to send it to a music company, and see what they thought. The hybrid had a lot of potential. At first he had thought you were pushing him to send it so that he would have an income and the hybrids could all move out. But you’d had a very serious but short talk about his and the pack’s future. 

They would stay here until they were ready to leave. End of story.

Jin spared no time, grabbing the headphones off your heads, and hauling the two of you to the front door. He didn’t say a word, merely pulled the two of you along. 

At the front door, you signed the paperwork as best you could. Your hands were shaking. Your fingers smudged every signature you wrote. 

There was a box. 

A large box, covered in tarp. 

Jungkook and Taehyung dragged the box inside, and Yoongi dimmed the lights. You were having deja vu. The worst kind of deja vu. One that had actually happened. 

Jimin took his claws, and scratched open the tarp. Inside was a bent over hybrid. “Namjoon!” you heard someone gasp, but couldn’t take your eyes off of the hybrid in question to see who had spoken. 

Jimin finagled with the lock a little bit and stepped back. Jin took the lock and snapped it open. 

Everyone was quiet. 

Namjoon didn’t struggle. He rose a warrior, back straight, shoulders back, head high and proud.. He wore a t-shirt and black knee length shorts.  

He was muzzled like Taehyung had been, and blindfolded as well. 

“Keep your eyes shut,” you said, the first to speak. “You need to let your eyes adapt.”

Yoongi sliced the long length of cloth that was hiding Namjoon’s eyes. Jin stood in front of Namjoon, working the clasp at the back of the muzzle with deft hands. 

Namjoon took a deep breath, his first of many. 

The muzzle came off and he smiled, and you swore you saw heaven in those dimples. 

“Jin,” he breathed out. 

Jin grabbed him in his arms, sobbing. Namjoon slowly raised his arms to hug him back. His joints must have been stiff from being stuck in one position for so long. 

The others rushed in, all putting hands on Namjoon, eager to touch the beloved hybrid. 

It wasn’t until you cleared your throat and mentioned how it might be nice for Namjoon to step out of the crate, and into the den that the hybrids realized Namjoon has been standing on metal bars for the whole reunion. 

Jungkook knelt before Namjoon slightly, offering to piggyback him to the den. You went to find fruit, surprised that Jin came with you. 

“This is the last time,” he said, as you pulled water bottles from the fridge, and he stacked fruit trays in his arms. 

You nodded solemnly, choosing not to say anything. 

This was the last homecoming. This was the end of your time with the hybrids being lonely. Jungkook would probably run to Namjoon’s bed now. It was your understanding that he was their pack leader. How much had it hurt to be separated from his packmates for so long? Never knowing what was happening?

“I was a tutor,” he said as you made your way into the den, putting down your supplies. “They got mad recently because I refused to write the exams for the eldest son. They didn’t like that so when they sent me out, they showed me the crate. Told me I was being exported.”

The hybrids and you gasped. “Exported” was slang for being sold as food in other countries. Some countries were full of farms where people could hunt hybrids for their sick enjoyment. Hybrid meat was seen as a prized delicacy.

You felt dizzy at the thought of it.

“You didn’t panic,” you stated. Everyone turned to look at you. “I … I would have panicked.”

“Panicking wouldn’t have gotten me anywhere,” he answered. “So I decided to stand strong, just like I knew my packmates were standing strong for me.”

“Cool Namjoon,” breathed out Jungkook, obviously impressed. 

“You’re cool, too,” answered Namjoon. 

The sunny smile Jungkook returned was beautiful. And though you wanted to see all his smiles, and all the other hybrids’ happy faces, you made your way out of the den. Jin was already tending to Namjoon’s wounds, with a first aid kit that Yoongi had had the forethought to bring in. 

You walked up the stairs, alone again. 

A couple of weeks passed with Namjoon being with the pack. There were minor squabbles, mostly about who got to sit with Namjoon. But they were ended almost immediately. The pack was less unsettled. And everyone was more tactile. 

Everyone except you. 

But the hybrids are still bringing you down to take part in their shenanigans. Jin demanded you sit in his lap as he played his video games, but after he shouted too loudly in your ear for the third time, you escaped. Yoongi kept pulling you onto his lap to listen to the new songs he heard or was trying to write. Jimin and Taehyung had taken to grabbing onto either side of you and snuggling, hard. You’ve had to excuse yourself a couple times when you felt certain parts of them hardening up against you. Jungkook was still crawling into your bed, but he did it less often now. And you were happy for him. Really. 

Your attempt at convincing yourself was pathetic. You missed him. 

You were in your bed when you heard the tell-tale sounds of Jungkook shouting, squirming in your bed. A nightmare. And it sounded like a bad one. 

You straddled his hips, grabbing at his hands. “It’s okay, Jungkookie,” you cajoled. “It’s me! Shh! Shh!”

He was deep asleep, the nightmare taunting him from the depths of his psyche. 

“Shh,” you tried, trying to hold his hands to your chest with one hand. You pressed a hand to his forehead, but still he bucked and whined.  

The lights switched on and you flinched from the brightness. 

It was at that moment that you realized that the door hadn’t been shut. Which meant the soundproofing wasn’t working. Which meant the hybrids would have most definitely heard Jungkook shouting and fussing.

“WHAT THE FUCK?” screamed Namjoon, slamming into the room. He wrenched Jungkook out of your hands, throwing you back onto the bed.

“How could you?” screamed Taehyung from behind you. 

By this time Jungkook was awake and looked terrified. “Noona!” he called out, arms struggling to get to you.. 

“No, wait!” you shouted, as Jimin and Hoseok ran into the room. 

“Take Jungkook out,” commanded Namjoon. Hoseok and Jimin followed his order, no questions asked. You saw the true strength of the pack then. 

“Wait,” you said. “Please, is he okay?”

Namjoon stared straight at you. “Better than you’re going to be.”

A/N: If you failed to read the note at the beginning, this is your warning that next up is an explicit rape scene. Please proceed with caution.

The hybrids were vicious in their motions. Once gentle grips were violent, sure to leave dusky marks. 

“You don’t understand–” you stammered. 

Taehyung snarled at you. “NO, YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND!”

And with that, your clothes were painfully ripped off of you. Item by item, sharp claws decimated your outfit until you were clad in your bra and panties. You thought absentmindedly about how they didn’t match today. Laundry day was tomorrow. 

“Let me explain,” you said, hunching over, trying to cover yourself. 

“You’re just like the others,” continued Taehyung, crawling onto the bed. “I knew it! I knew it!” 

He pulled you against him, his body hot against yours. “What were you planning on doing to Jungkook?”

“Nothing, please,” you begged, tears flowing down your cheeks as your panties were cut off of you. Bright red was blooming all over you in thin stripes, blood listlessly pilling at the edges of the shallow cuts. 

Namjoon glowered at you from beside Taehyung. 

“Yoongi, get her ready,” he said. 

Taehyung smiled devilishly, interrupting the hierarchy. “No.”

You struggled to move, to hit him in any way but he was too powerful. Your arm slipped free from his grip at some point, and you managed to knock your fist against his nose. 

That only enraged him more.

“Stupid fucking human,” he snarled as he pulled down his sweats and underwear. You could feel him moving about beside you. 

You tried to keep your legs together as best you could. “Jimin, Jimin help me!” you called out. 

All you could hear was Jimin’s laughter and then the pain hit you. 

Taehyung, being a hybrid, a predator hybrid at that, had a massive cock. It wedged between your legs, and you refused to look, couldn’t look, the pain was too much. 

And you were sure he had only put the tip in. 

“Was this what you were going to do to Jungkookie?” he demanded. 

He pressed against you again. “So fucking tight, human,” sneered Taehyung. “Are you a virgin?”

Jimin finally showed up, pulling Taehyung back so he was no longer looming above you. An angel, Jimin was an angel. 

“Jimin, Jimin thank you,” you panted, exhausted already from fighting Taehyung.  

“Don’t thank me just yet,” smiled Jimin before spitting on Taehyung’s cock. The two of them kissed passionately as Taehyung tried again to press into you. 

All you could feel was the horrible burn. You screamed and instantly regretted it as Yoongi took the opportunity to shove his thick cock in your mouth. 

“Fucking human,” he disparaged. “Only good for your holes.”

You tried to bite down, and Yoongi pulled you back by your hair so hard, you saw stars. 

“No teeth,” he demanded.

You choked, arms desperately grabbing at the sheets, trying your best to ground yourself. 

This wasn’t happening. 

The pheromones in the room must have been insane. This many hybrids, all of them pumped up in righteous anger, all of their scents egging each other on. 

Taehyung tried to press his cock deeper into you and you tried to scream, but Yoongi was in the way. He thrust his cock back into your mouth. Taehyung took the opportunity of your shock to thrust his cock deeper. You were bleeding, you knew you were bleeding. 

You choked on your own spit when Yoongi finally pulled himself out. He came all over your face making you cough and hack. Someone grabbed your hand, and you tried to hold it, but were instead greeted with Namjoon’s cock. It was the biggest one yet, an absolute behemoth. You were terrified at the thought of it entering you. At the moment, he seemed to be happy with the awkward handjob you were granting him. 

By this point, the tears were streaming down your cheeks, pressing unfortunately into the mess on your face. Snot was caught in your nose, and you could feel some of it threatening to dribble down. 

“Please,” you begged. “Please, I didn’t–” you were cut off with a slap to your face as your bra was quickly cut off. Someone bit you on your breast, deep.

Hoseok turned on some music. Probably to drown out your screams.

It didn’t work. At least, not for you. You could hear every scream you wanted to shout, clear as a bell in your mind.

You could also hear someone at the door. Someone was bashing against it over and over. Too bad all the doors and doorways in the house were reinforced to handle hybrid strength. You were stuck here until this, whatever this was, was over. 

You could hear someone sobbing. 

Was that you?

Yes, but also from outside the door. 

Someone was wailing, “Noona, Noona!”

You felt your body flip and you were on your stomach. You laid down quietly, desperate for rest. Desperate for this to end. 

You felt wetness on your ass, someone must have spit on you again. You jerked as someone else came on your side, the cum cool against your burning skin, covered in thin claw marks. 

Then someone tried to shove their cock at your ass. 

It was Hoseok, and he took several thrusts to get the thick tip of his cock past the tight furl of your asshole. 

You were pulled up like a rag doll, lifted only for Namjoon to slide under you. 

But you knew he was so big and you were so small and also not a hybrid. He would tear you apart. Rip you from the inside out.

No

Please

“Shut up,” someone screamed, and you felt, rather than heard, a loud thunk.

You knew you were bleeding. You felt the shallow scratches, the deeper lacerations. You also felt the bite marks. All of them deep enough to be categorized as serious wounds. 

You didn’t know how many times they raped you.

At some point it ended. You laid there. You thought your eyes were open but you didn’t know. 

It hurt to think.  

“Don’t you ever fuck with Jungkook again,” screamed Taehyung. 

Jimin switched the music off. 

The hybrids could hear Jungkook sobbing in the hallway. Taehyung grabbed you by the hair lifting your battered and lifeless body. 

“He’s still fucking crying!” he shouted in your face. 

You had no reaction. 

Taehyung slapped you across the face, but again, you had no reaction 

“Hyungs, open the door, please!” begged Jungkook, his voice strained and warbling. 

“Want their pound of flesh,” drawled Yoongi. 

“OPEN THE DOOR YOU DAMN FUCKING IDIOTS!” screeched Jin as loudly as possible. 

Namjoon went to open the door and tripped immediately, falling flat on his face, luckily on a pillow. 

Jimin opened the door, Jin and Jungkook stumbling in, both choking on the thick scent of sex and blood and pheromones. Their eyes darted around the room. 

“Tell me you didn’t–”

“We did what had to be done,” intoned Namjoon as he got up from the floor. 

“We showed her what happens when you mess with us.” Taehyung smiled. “She won’t hurt Jungkook ever again.”

“Noona…” whispered Jungkook, slowly walking toward the bed. Taehyung had already released you, and you were laying limbs akimbo on the bed, peppered with scratches and smeared in blood and half-dried semen. 

“Noona!” Jungkook started rocking back and forth on his perch at the side of the bed, taking your hand in his.  

“Why is there so much blood?” demanded Jin. “Why, why would you do this?”

“To teach her a lesson,” answered Hoseok, proudly. 

“Nightmare!” shouted Jungkook. “I had a nightmare! She was waking me up!”

He sobbed, pressing a hand to your body. His quiet sobs were the only sounds in the room, the other hybrids deathly quiet.

“Oh no, there’s so much blood.” He looked up at Jin, eyes big and imploring. “Help, Jin-hyung help!” 

“What do you mean you were having a nightmare?” asked Yoongi quietly. 

“There’s so much blood,” stated Jungkook, ignoring Yoongi, continuing to stare at you in horror. 

“He stays with her,” explained Jin as he moved toward you. He slowly took your blood and semen covered hand in his. “She wakes him up from his nightmares.”

“No,” said Taehyung. “She was trying to hurt him. She was on top of him!”

“I had a NIGHTMARE,” screamed Jungkook, head thrown back, cheeks covered in streaming tears. “Why wouldn’t you listen to me?”

Jimin vomited noisily in the corner of the room. Hoseook looked ready to follow him.

“We have to take her to hospital,” said Jin. “I can’t, I can’t see anything with all the blood and… with the blood in the way.”

“They’re going to take us away,” stammered Hoseok. “We have to leave.” 

Yoongi, ever the eloquent one, shouted, “Fuck. FUCK!” He kicked some of the fallen furniture around the room and pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes. 

“I’m not leaving her,” said Jungkook fiercely, grabbing your hand out of Jin’s and into his own.. 

“Jin, where’s her phone?” asked Namjoon. After a quick search, they found it on the floor, under some stained bedding. 

Namjoon held the phone carefully in his hands, as everyone went silent around him. “I’m going to call the hospital.” He looked up at them all seriously. “I’ll tell them it was me.” 

“Why the fuck do you take the fall?” demanded Yoongi. “It was me!” 

“You’re a cat.” 

“I did just as much damage as you did!” 

“So did I,” piped up a teary-eyed Hoseok, and a nauseous-looking Jimin.

“Quiet!” shouted Taehyung, grabbing the phone. “I’m going to call that man who she talks to everyday. Jae or whatever.”

He scrolled through your recent calls, seeing all of them being to the same Mr Kim. He put the phone on speaker, everyone listening to the ringing. 

“Hey!” answered Jaejoong, voice joyful and cajoling. 

“Hello? Mr Kim?” asked Jin

“Who is this?” Mr Kim demanded seriously. He was obviously expecting you, not a strange male. 

“Please come quickly. We have an emergency.” 

Mr Kim started to talk, but Jin hung up immediately.

“Don’t… shouldn't we have said something?” asked Jimin timidly.

“What, we just gang raped your crush?” sneered Yoongi.

Jungkook fretted over you, ignoring the others. “We need warm water and clean cloths.” 

“No, we need to keep the evidence on her,” answered Jin.. 

“Our bites are evidence enough,” spat out Yoongi 

“Let’s move her downstairs,” commanded Namjoon.

The hybrids paused to look at you again. To really look at you and your beaten body, vividly bruised blue and purple splotches all over. Both eyes were swollen shut, lips split, cheeks bruised. The tear tracks were long replaced with scratches and thin lines of blood, as well as the remnants of several of their orgasms.. 

Jungkook could see a patch of your scalp where your hair was missing. He looked at your eyes again and realized that they were open. He could see your iris and pupil, but your gaze was vacant, and unknowing. 

“Noona!” wailed Jungkook as he pulled you into his arms. 

You dangled lifelessly in his hold. 

Chapter Text

Jaejoong rang the doorbell violently, contemplating banging on the door. The cryptic call he’d received from the hybrid was stark in his mind. What could have happened? What could been bad enough that you couldn’t use your own phone? 

He started pounding at the door, only to have it opened by a discoloured hybrid. 

His mind refused to compute what he was seeing. A blood-stained hybrid. 

Was it paint? 

Was it food? 

No, no it was definitely blood. 

Why was the hybrid covered in blood?

“What’s going–” 

“Help, help her!” sobbed the hybrid as he pulled Jaejoong inward. Jaejoong frowned, trying to remember his name.

He was dragged to one of the spare bedrooms on the main floor (of which there were many), and then Jaejoong forgot everything as he saw a blood covered body laying on the bed, a bunny hybrid (Jungkook? His name was Jungkook, he remembered) bawling at her side. 

“What the fuck?” Jaejoong screamed. “Is she even breathing?” 

He rushed to your side, pushing Jungkook away, grabbing at your wrist, but finding it crusty with dried blood and something else he couldn’t immediately identify.

“She’s lost so much blood,” came mumbles from behind him. Everything was distorted. He felt like he was underwater. Because he knew what that was. He knew exactly what that was.

That substance was cum. 

“I’m calling the doctor,” he stated immediately, autopilot kicking in as he searched his pockets for his phone. The family kept many doctors on retainer but he knew which one to call. The one who dealt best with confidential incidents. The one who dealt best with the worst case scenarios. 

The one who could be paid to be quiet.  

As he dialed the number, he called out to the hybrids behind him. “Out. Everybody out now.”

Some of the hybrids heeded his call meekly, making their way out of the room. Jaejoong didn’t notice, his eyes only on you. You looked gruesome. His eyes were blurry with tears, but even with the distortion he knew this was bad. This was worse than bad. How had this happened?

“But, noona–” came Jungkook’s garbled voice. 

“Now!” shouted Jaejoong, eyes still locked on you.. 

Jungkook, now bawling in earnest, not bothering to keep his sobs quiet, was escorted out by an ashen-faced Jin. 

They congregated in Namjoon’s room. Jimin was hiccuping, remnants of tears thick on his face. The others were looking equally sorrowful and disconsolate.

“We’re going to die,” intoned Hoseok, bleakly. 

“No, not Jungkookie,” stated Yoongi. “Or Jin. They won’t find their bite marks on her.” 

Jungkook turned on Taehyung. “Why? WHY?” He smashed his fists against Taehyung, surely leaving bruises. 

Jin pulled him back, trying to get Jungkook to scent him, anything to calm him down. 

“NO!” Shouted Jungkook, fighting Jin’s efforts. “I want Noona!”

The others remained quiet. And Jungkook stopped struggling, just frustratedly slapped at the perpetrators that were closest to him. Hoseok and Taehyung took the hits in stride, Jin putting his head in his hands.

Namjoon looked at them all solemnly. “When they come for us, we need a solid story.”

“I don’t want a story!” screamed Jungkook, fists clenched. “How could you?”

“Are you talking normally?” asked Namjoon, suddenly noticing the stark change in the bunny hybrid’s speech. 

Jungkook paused, hands clenched tight around the tips of his ears, fighting not to hit anyone anymore. “Don’t change the subject!”

“The shock must have had an effect on you,” continued Namjoon dully.  

“I don’t care!” shouted Jungkook, stamping his feet, and letting his ears go to curl his hands into tight fists. “All she’s done is be nice to us. She clothed us, fed us, brought us all together again!”

He shook his head, eyes down. “I don’t understand how you could do this!”

He looked up, eyes blazing. “Especially with what happened, with what happened to me, to you, to all of us !” 

WIth that he broke down into ugly sobs, tears leaking from his doe eyes as he sniffled hard to control the snot that threatened to leak from his nose.  

Jin sighed before walking over to Jungkook, arms outstretched, ready to pull the bunny hybrid into his warm arms.

“Jungkookie, I–” 

“Don’t touch me!” shouted Jungkook. He jerked back viciously, leaving long scratch marks on Jin’s arms. “You’re on their side, aren’t you?” 

Jin stood quietly, head to the side. “There are no sides, Jung–”

“Fuck you all!” shouted Jungkook as he made his way out of the room, stepping hard on anyone’s feet that got in the way. 

A beat of silence passed before anyone spoke.

“That went well,” intoned Taehyung. 

“Shut up,” said Jin, as he whirled, eyes ablaze. 

“Why wouldn’t you open the damn door? Were you that scent drunk?” he demanded. “Were you so out of control that you couldn’t pull yourselves back?”

The hybrids all looked down ashamed. “It wasn’t like that,” started Hoseok. 

“Oh, what was it like?” asked Jin, tapping his foot, arms crossed against his chest. 

No one spoke. 

“You were lucid,” Jin intoned, not wanting to understand, but acknowledging what their silence meant. 

“No,” said Hoseok. “We were gone with the pheromones.”

The shame that ran through the hybrids’ veins was icy. It hit them painfully as Jin turned. He left the room silently.

The silence was overwhelming in its loudness. None of the hybrids could bring themselves to speak. Not that it was exactly quiet. Jimin was softly crying in the corner, tears running down his face in a continuous stream. His sniffling was the only sound they could hear.

It was Namjoon who broke the tense silence. Just as it was Namjoon who they all followed. Just as it was Namjoon who they looked to for direction. Just as it was Namjoon who had not only condoned their disgraceful actions, but had participated as well. 

He cleared his throat. 

The silence continued, unbroken. 

“I–”

“We need to apologize,” interrupted Hoseok. “If we apologize, it shows we’re sorry.”

“Are you?” asked Yoongi, interjecting moodily.

“What they fuck do you mean?” asked Hoseok, ears up, teeth bared. 

“You seem to be very goal-oriented right now.” spat out Yoongi. “Have you no feelings? We ruined her. An apology isn’t gonna do shit.” 

“An apology shows that we want to make amends–”

“You just don’t want to be carted off again,” seethed Yoongi.

“And you do?” bit out Hoseok. “You want to be separated? Away from all of us, away from Jungkook for so long?”

“Newsflash!” shouted Yoongi. “We are away from Jungkook!” 

Hoseok sank back, frustrated tears in his eyes. “I’m just trying to help!”

“No, you’re trying to get your ass covered,” continued Yoongi 

“ Our asses covered!” shouted Hoseok.

Namjoon growled, quieting the bickering duo.

“Things got out of control,” he admitted. “We got lost in the pheromone haze. It was impossible to stop.” 

“Will she believe us?” asked Taehyung. 

“I wouldn’t,” interjected Jimin, all eyes immediately on him. “If I didn’t know about what a pheromone haze was,I wouldn’t.” He paused, sniffling. 

“Do you think she knows?” he asked pitifully.

No one answered him. 

Namjoon spoke. “The onus was on me as the pack leader. I should have calmed everyone down. I should have figured out what had happened. I shouldn’t have reacted… the way I did.”   

“No,” spat out Yoongi causing the others to look at him in surprise. 

“The fuck you mean no?” asked Hoseok angrily. “We should never have–”

“No,” interrupted Yoongi. “No, Namjoon is not allowed to take the fall for this. Pack leader or not, we all played an active role in what happened.” 

“Which is why we should apolo-”

“Say apologize one more time,” seethed Yoongi “I dare–”

“You think she wants to see you?” hissed Jimin, cutting Yoongi off. “She loathes us now. Seeing us is the last thing she’d want.” He shuddered, body racked by chills. “It was the last thing I wanted.“

Taehyung pulled Jimin into his embrace, but Jimin fought him, pushing away from the tiger hybrid’s firm chest and soft hold.  

“How could we? How could I?” lamented Jimin. He broke down into tears again.

The hybrids sat in silence punctuated only by Jimin’s defeated murmurs and tears. 

“Jungkook?” asked Jin. 

Jin was worried. He knew that the scent of everything was permeating through the air. Knew that it would slowly diffuse, but only by entering all the rooms nearby. 

Which included Jungkook’s. 

Having Jungkook bathed in the scent of what the others had done was not a good idea.

“Jungkook,” he asked again, rapping against the door with the back of two fingers. “Jungkook I’m coming in.” 

The door was unlocked, thankfully. 

Jungkook was on the floor, curled up tight in a ball, ears drooped and tail still. He was wrapped up in a small lap blanket that Jin knew had to be heavily scented with you as you had been snuggling into it during a movie night the other day. 

“Jungkook,” he started, only to have Jungkook throw the blanket over his head. 

“Jungkook, you have to get out of here.” He stumbled over his words. “The... the smell is going to get here soon.” 

The bunny hybrid let out the most distressed whine Jin had ever heard him make. He ran to Jungkook, immediately pulling back the blanket to check on the younger hybrid. 

“Are you okay? You’re not hurt?”

Jungkook stared daggers at him. “Go back to them.”

Jin shook his head. “No, I’m staying here with you. And we’re leaving this room. Grab anything you need and we’ll head to mine.” Jin’s room was thankfully at the end of the long hallway. 

“No,” mumbled Jungkook as tears fell from his eyes. “I’m waiting for Noona.”

Jin blanched. “Jungkook, please. We need to get away from the room. You were in shock earlier so you couldn’t smell it but it’s bad. Please listen to me.” 

Jungkook stood up. He wrapped the blanket around himself tightly and meekly put his head down. He accepted Jin’s hands on his shoulders as he slowly walked out of his room and into the hallway. In the hallway, Jin made sure to hold a corner of the blanket against Jungkook’s sensitive nose. 

Once they got to Jin’s room, Jungkook flipped. 

He grabbed a chair from a corner and slammed it against the wall, over and over, until he was panting. He stood, breathing heavy, a detached chair arm in one hand, and a leg in the other. The rest of the remnants of the chair lay unrecognizable on the floor. insulation peeking out accusingly from the many holes in the wall. 

Jin sat on the bed, eyes on his clasped hands, Jungkook’s vortex of pain washing over him. 

Jungkook threw the remnants of what used to be a chair to the floor. Chest heaving he remained standing for several minutes. 

When he made his despondent way to Jin, Jungkook fell into his lap, but not before wrapping the blanket tight around himself.

“Hyung,” he murmured, deep into the crook of JIn’s neck “Hyung!” he called out, plaintively. “Hyung why?” he sobbed quietly into Jin, wetting the shoulder of his sweatshirt. 

Jin sat back on the bed, pulling Jungkook along, until Jungkook straddled him, allowing the hybrids as much contact as possible. Jin petted Jungkook’s hair as his sobs grew harder, and he kissed the top of Jungkook’s head as the poor hybrid cried himself to sleep. 

“I hate them,” Jungkook had murmured. “I hate them and I hate them and I hate them.”

Jaejoong didn’t know what to do. He called your name, but you didn’t respond. He clapped his hands in your face, right in front of your swollen eyes, and you still didn’t respond. 

You’d gone catatonic

He tried to clean you up as best he could. Tried not to judge the beasts hiding, cowering upstairs. 

How had this happened? Freak pheromone event? Roleplay gone horribly wrong? A revenge situation? But what on earth could they have wanted revenge for?

Fifteen minutes passed of him pacing up and down the room. At one point he took water from a knocked over glass and sprinkled it on your face. 

Nothing happened. 

The doorbell rang, breaking him out of his trance. Hurriedly, he brought the doctor through the maze of a house and to the room you were in.

“Well fuck,” said the doctor, taking a deep breath before looking straight at Jaejoong. 

“Hybrids?” he asked, seemingly unsurprised.

Jaejoong didn’t say a word. He couldn’t. He had heard of these kinds of cases. Hybrids going insane in a fucking frenzy, their pheromones too intense, setting each other off and continuing to build until they were insatiable. Pheromone haze was the term he’d heard.

“There was anger here,” said the doctor coolly, pressing his fingers against a bite mark. You didn’t respond. 

“Rage.” 

You didn’t make a sound as you were treated. Didn’t move when the IV was placed in your arm. Didn’t jump when the doctor pressed on your wounds. 

Jaejoong paced anxiously behind the doctor, watching his every move. The doctor went over every inch of you, taking note of all your wounds. He got Jaejoong to bring wet towels with warm water from the ensuite, and carefully wiped away the dried and crusted bodily fluids. He needed to be able to see all your injuries. 

Despite the doctor’s washing you still smelled faintly of blood and sex. 

“What do you think?” Jaejoong asked, anxious for a prognosis. For an idea of what was to come. 

“I think those hybrids should be put down,” stated the doctor, slowly examining one of your legs. “Fucking disgusting.” 

“About her!” Jaejoong clarified. “What do you think about her?” 

“She’s in shock.” said the doctor, pressing his hands against a brutal bite mark on your hip. “She needs to talk to someone once she comes out of it. Counselor, therapist. Whatever she prefers. Feed her liquids, then go to soft foods in a week. Her throat is ruined.” 

The doctor babbled on about painkillers and prescriptions, stating he’d be back to administer most of the medications. You would have to be put on antibiotics since the hybrids had bit you and there were known cases of humans getting sick from hybrid bites in severe cases. The doctor had also done swabs for an STI panel. 

“But she lost so much blood?” asked Jaejoong, honestly terrified. 

“She’ll be fine,” said the doctor. “Physically she’ll have many scars, and mentally she’ll be a wreck. But she’ll have a functioning body by the end of it. 

“She just needs plenty of rest and therapy. She’ll need someone to help her move around. Also, some of the bites on her hips are quite deep and require stitches. I’ll stitch them now, and then come back next week to remove them.” 

Jajeoong bit at his lip. “Should I hire a nurse?” 

“Would she want one?” countered the doctor. 

Jaejoong sighed. “Thank you for your help,” he said, bowing deeply. “I understand that you will be discrete,” he murmured. 

The doctor looked at him sternly. “It would go against my duty as a doctor not to report this.”

He brought out a medical kit and prepared to begin stitching you up. He injected you with a local anesthetic prior to suturing you concisely, paying close attention to each stitch.

“You would be appropriately compensated for your services,” continued Jaejoong. “As always.”

The doctor clucked his tongue as he continued his work. “Those were for hybrid services. This is a human.”

Jaejoong took a deep breath. He knew what he wanted to do in this situation. He knew what Mr Chow would have wanted to do. Although they were at great odds with each other, he knew Mr Chow’s views were the ones he had to follow. Regardless of how you or anyone else would feel, he knew Mr Chow would have wanted the hybrids to have had a chance to, at the least, start over elsewhere, rather than being immediately exported.

“Again you would be greatly compensated for your services,” he continued. 

“Again, this is a human,” countered the doctor. 

“Sir,” began Jaejoong. “We don’t know what state she’s going to be in when she wakes up. If she wakes up and finds out the hybrids are… no longer on the estate, I don’t know if that would be good for her mental state.” 

After all these months, Jaejoong would like to say he knew you. And while you may have hated the hybrids at this point, he knew you couldn’t deal with their deaths on your hands. Whether they deserved it or not. 

The doctor frowned as he continued his work. The silence stayed strong for the remainder of his work. When he was done, he carefully wiped at all the wounds you had with disinfectant, applying gauze bandages to the deepest wounds, of which there were many.  

“She must improve within my timeline or I’m raising hell. I don’t care how much you pay me,” stated the doctor. 

Jaejoong nodded. “Of course.”

He walked the doctor to the door and walked back to your room. Not before he noticed several hybrids huddled near the landing at the top of the stairs. 

They had been listening. 

He found he didn’t care. 

He went back into the room. He took off his jacket, and quickly sent off some emails. You were in his care now. He knew you had no friends here and he didn’t trust any care aides, who were essentially strangers. Which left him to take care of you with the assistance of a nurse. 

You weren’t looking much better than when he first saw you, but now that you were cleaned up and the wounds were bandaged up, it didn’t look so bad. 

At least that’s what he tried to tell himself. 

He sat on the edge of the bed and held his head in his hands. He was lying to himself. 

You looked horrific.

You woke up one day to someone slowly applying lip balm to your already moist lips. 

You groaned. 

You heard someone shout out your name. 

Automatically you turned your head. Or at least you tried to. Your head hurt, your muscles ached, and you felt like you had been run over by a truck 

It was a struggle to keep your eyes open. 

“Jaejoong?” your voice was raspy. Why was he here? Where was here? And why did your throat hurt so much?

Jaejoong, a handsome man, came to stand by your side. The woman who had been applying lip balm took the chance to slowly press a spoonful of lukewarm broth to your lips. Jaejoong seemed to be undisturbed by the woman so you swallowed the soup. 

It was delicious. 

“How, how are you?” Jaejoong asked, faltering over his words in a way he had never done so before. He was a very eloquent man, most of the time. 

“What–” before you could finish your sentence, you were caught in a violent coughing fit. The pain was intense, more than you expected. More than you had known before.

And as you coughed, you remembered. The yelling, the begging, the ruthless bites and claws pulling through your skin— 

You couldn’t breathe. Tears came to your eyes, falling freely, leaving hot trails behind. 

“Oh,” you breathed out, finally able to inhale. Breathing seemed hard, so you focused your mind on breathing in and out.  

“You remember,” Jaejoong stated, clasping a hand of yours in both of his. 

The woman tried to spoon feed you once more but you waved your arm at her and saw that you had an IV. 

“How long?” 

Just those few words had you tired beyond measure. Your voice was hoarse. Your throat felt like sandpaper had been raked over it, while your body had stripes and patches of fire burning all over. It was impossible to get comfortable. 

“Five days,” he answered. 

You looked away. Five days. Five days your body had been recovering quietly on its own, doing what bodies do. Meanwhile, your brain had been cocooned in gentle swaths of cotton, bandaged up, and left to rest. 

The woman took that moment to press several tablets into your mouth. She followed them up with cool water, which felt like nirvana to your damaged throat. 

Jaejoong cleared his throat. “If you didn’t wake up in two more days, the doctor was going to report the hybrids.” 

Your gaze went somewhere far away. The hybrids. Your thoughts were muddled. Were they okay? Had they been fed? You knew rationally that these thoughts were of no consequence. But you couldn’t let the other thoughts in yet. 

It hurt too much. 

You continued to sip at the broth the woman offered for a few minutes. The only sounds were your soft sips. 

Your vacant stare was probably unnerving but you didn’t care. Jaejoong didn’t seem to mind either. The nurse was probably used to it. 

With your gaze fixed on nothing, it was easy for you to see the movement by the door. 

You froze, breath catching in your throat. 

The door had been pushed open barely an inch. Showing you a large doe eye, shining with tears. 

You continued to look at nothing, unable to move until he disappeared, punctuating his departure with a sob. Jaejoong startled at the noise, not having noticed Jungkook, but definitely having noticed his noisy retreat.

You sighed between sips. Even this much talking was tiring. 

The medication began to affect you. “Good night,” you called to Jaejoong. 

You were out before you could hear his answer. 

Jaejoong had been putting it off but now that you were awake, or at least, waking up every so often, he knew he had to talk to the hybrids. And get their side of the story. 

You refused to speak about it. And he never pressed, having been told by the therapist that these things took time. 

He had moved a futon into the room so that he would be there whenever you woke. He liked to think that his being there was beneficial in some way. He also had three nurses on around the clock care. 

He didn’t want to do this. To confront the monsters who had left you like that. 

He thought back to when he had first seen the hybrids. They had been docile. The men with leashes and chains had taken each of them away from the house, one by one. Namjoon, the leader, had been trying to keep everyone calm, telling them that this was only temporary. That they wouldn’t be separated for long. 

How wrong he had been. 

He moved his way to the front of the stairs. Head down, he stared at the first step. 

Did he want to do this? He’d been putting it off for so long. 

His phone rang. Checking the display, he saw that it was you. You needed him. Needed him calm and collected. Needed him to be a steady presence in your life.

He didn’t go upstairs.

A couple of weeks later, Jin went to Yoongi. 

“We have a problem,” he hissed at Yoongi. The cat hybrid was lounging in his room, eyes shut, headphones playing a harsh rap.  

“Yoongi,” he hissed again. 

He gave up and slapped Yoongi on the ass. 

Hard. 

“The fuck!” shouted Yoongi, shocked. He sat upright, rubbing at his rear. 

“We have a problem!” whisper shouted Jin. 

Yoongi took his time rearranging himself, hiding his tail behind him. He would never admit it, but pulling out the fur of his tail was calming to him. And in the past while, it had been very stressful, resulting in several bald patches on his tail. 

“What?” asked Yoongi petulantly. 

“We can’t all hide in our rooms anymore!”

“Why not?” hissed Yoongi.

“We’re almost out of food,” said Jin, a grim look on his face. 

Yoongi froze. “Fuck.” 

The pack meeting was held in Namjoon’s room. The memory of the last time they had all been together was fresh in their minds. 

Jin dragged Jungkook in, allowing him to sit in the corner, eyes on nothing but the fringe of a pillow, knees dragged up to his chest. . 

Jin decided not to beat around the bush. “We’re almost out of food.”

This got a reaction out of everyone, even if Jungkook looked down again quickly. 

Everyone spoke at once, but Namjoon was the one who’s voice cut through the others’. 

“Order from the phone,” he suggested. “The one in the front room.” 

Jin grimaced, “It’s gone.” 

They all looked at him shocked, Namjoon breaking the silence “What do you mean it’s gone?”

“It’s gone,” Jin intoned again. 

“Well one of us needs to order the food,” said Yoongi. “Do any of us know her banking information?”

“We can’t do that!” interrupted Jimin.

“Why not?” asked Yoongi.

“It’s stealing,” said Jimin.

“Is it stealing if we’re starving?” demanded Hoseok.

“We’re not starving,” said Taehyung, speaking up. “Lets just ask JaeDouche to order more food,” he said. 

“Banana milk,” muttered Jungkook from the corner, his one addition to the conversation. 

“I’ll make a list,” said Jin, grabbing a pen and pad of paper from Namjoon’s desk. 

“Any other requests?” he asked the room. 

“Biotin,” muttered Yoongi. “For hybrids.” 

The rest of the hybrids actively looked away from each other as Jin added it to the list. Then they called out other items they wanted.

“Okay,” said Jin, finishing up. “Who wants to give the list to that guy?”

“Not it!” spoke up Jimin immediately. 

“You can’t call not it!” countered Taehyung. “Also not it.” 

“Guys,” said Namjoon in warning. 

“Let’s settle this the old way. Rock paper scissors,” suggested Jin.

The group groaned collectively but grudgingly moved into a circle, hands outstretched. 

When Jungkook tried to wedge his way in, they tried to block him. He growled deeply, fierceness shining in his eyes, and they let him join. 

Miraculously, he was the first one out. . 

The tournament continued until it was down to Hoseok and Jin. 

Jin was sure that Tae and Jimin were betting on them. He didn’t know how he felt about it, but he knew he wanted his pack happy and healthy, so he didn't call them out. 

Hoseok won. 

Jin stood at the door, heart beating in trepidation. He held the list tightly in one hand, the paper crumpled. 

He knocked on the door. 

Jaejoong opened the door, and stared dangerously at Jin. 

Jin froze, trapped by the anger in Jaejoong’s eyes. Why was he here? What had convinced him this was a good idea? How on earth could this possibly go well? Why hadn’t they just shoved the note under the door and ran?

Jaejoong sighed, and looked away before slowly pushing the door closed. 

Jin awkwardly waved the crumpled paper in Jaejoong’s face “We need food,” he finally said. “The pantry’s almost empty.” 

Jaejoong took the paper and shut the door in Jin’s face. 

“I want to get up now.” 

Jaejoong quietly sighed from the corner of the room. You had recovered more quickly than the doctor had expected you to. The doctor had been coming every few days to check on you and each time, you had surpassed his healing expectations. 

You remained asleep mostly, but in the past week had been wishing, and now demanding, that you be able to walk around. 

The doctor was not convinced. “I understand that you want to move, but your internal injuries are still quite severe. There will be an excessive amount of unnecessary tearing and you will disrupt your scar tissue formation. It’s not safe. I cannot recommend it.” 

“Put me in a wheelchair,” you demanded. 

“I don’t trust you not to use your arms to wheel yourself around.” 

Jaejoong snorted at the thought of you in a wheelchair, whizzing around the house. Thankfully there was an elevator so if it came to that, at least you could get to your room. 

His snort had gained both your and the doctor’s attention.

“What on earth could you find funny in this situation?” asked the doctor, absolutely appalled. 

“I… “ Jaejoong faltered. “What if I carry her around?”

You stared at him. You must have hit your head harder than you thought. You were pretty sure Jaejoong had just suggested that he CARRY you around the house. As if you were some sort of baby.

“That will do, I guess,” said the doctor with a shrug.

“Wait, don’t you have a job?” you croaked. You were pretty sure you were too heavy for Jaejoong to carry around the house. You tried to think of reasons for him not to become your personal valet.

“My vacation has been long overdue,” he intoned, not meeting your eyes. 

You read between the lines. You were alone. You had no one but your attackers. Attackers who had yet to show their faces to you. Attackers whose faces you didn’t want to see. 

Jaejoong still didn’t have the full story and you didn’t think he would ask. You hoped he wouldn’t. 

You nodded in affirmation. If it got you out of this damn room, you’d be for it. 

Your mind went back to its earlier worries. “Are you sure you can carry me?”

Jungkook’s bulky sweater came off. Underneath was a form fitting white t-shirt. His muscles were on blatant display and you couldn’t help the little breath you took in surprise. He was built. His finely toned body was sensational. 

How long had he been hiding that for?

He flexed his arms, and you watched the muscles tense and relax.

“I can handle you,” he said with a smile. 

The doctor made his goodbyes. “Nurses stays until you can apply your internal medications yourself. You are to continue on the soft foods diet. And consume more protein.” 

He handed you his card, eyes sincere. “Call me at ANY time,” he intoned seriously.

You understood he was taking a risk. Not reporting the hybrid attack, and letting you recover at home were very much illegal. You would have done far better in a hospital, with a proper team of medical professions who could tend to your every need. 

But hospitals would ask questions. Questions you didn’t want to answer.

An alarm rang by your side. Counseling. Awesome.  

A day before the hybrids were down to breaking into the last of the pantry came several large packages. 

The hybrids descended on the packaging, all having been called down by Yoongi, who noticed the parcels first. They gathered all the parcels into the pantry.

Taehyung ripped open the first box, spilling part of the contents onto the floor. 

“Taehyung,” hissed Jin, angrily. He knew he was the one who was going to tidy the pantry when everything was done.

He bent to the floor, quickly grabbing a handful of…. kibble. 

The hybrids were all slowly stopping in shock. Box after box, carton after carton of store brand kibble.

Each hybrid froze. Memories of  unending days and nights of kibble for every meal of the day came to them. The monotonous bowls of dry, crumbly kibble. The chalky, bland taste of stale kibble. The disaster that was kibble and water, left for them when their injuries were too bad for solid foods. 

Kibble.

Kibble.

Kibble.

“It’s all fucking kibble!” screamed Taehyung, eyes wide and angry. The others tore through the packages, desperate to prove Taehyung wrong. 

But he was right.

A tentative voice spoke up from the doorway. “Banana milk?”

“Do you fucking see banana milk?!” asked Namjoon, immediately regretting it.

He shuffled through the dusty floor, now covered in a faint crunchy brown sheen.  

“Sorry, I’m sorry Jungkook,” he said, enveloping the bunny hybrid in his arms. 

For once Jungkook didn’t squirm out of his grasp. Instead he broke down into deep, heartbroken sobs, leaving the pack speechless, and surrounded in a mess of kibble. 

You hated your counseling sessions. You had them twice a day everyday and everyday you were reminded. 

Reminded of the pain. The terror. The horror. The experience you could not end no matter how hard you tried. 

Counseling was helping you though, you thought. It had been a few weeks, and you were still  feeling emotionally fucked up, as was to be expected. But you were moving around. You were able to walk now, but relied on Jaejoong as you got tired so easily. And honestly, it was easy to fall asleep on him while watching a movie, listening to his stable heartbeat. 

You worried you were getting complacent. 

You spent a lot of time journaling, working out your feelings. Art therapy was proving useful as well. You always felt better after a session. You were so glad you could easily afford all of these services. 

The hybrids continued to avoid you. You weren’t sure how you felt about it. You missed the sweet times you had spent together. But every time you thought of them, your eyes watered, and hot tears would run down your face. 

You didn’t talk much. That was the first thing the hybrids noticed once you started exiting the bedroom. They spied on you and Jaejoong as best they could. Hoseok called it gathering intel. 

Jungkook, who still wasn’t speaking to anyone but Jin, called it stalking.

Mostly you slept. Awaking to be moved from the living room to the bathroom to the bedroom multiple times a day. Jaejoong didn't break a sweat moving you around. Jungkook hated seeing it. 

Jungkook’s lips were ruined. No matter what the others had warned, cajoled, or threatened, he bit at them with a ferocity that brought out blood. It was always thick in the air now .

The hybrids kept upstairs, Jin and Jungkook in Jin’s room, Jin only exiting to get food for the two in the middle of the night. The rest of them followed suit, eating only at night, barely sleeping, in fear of missing a summons from you, or a shouts of alarm.

Everyone was a wreck. 

Jimin’s eyes were permanently swollen from all his tears. Yoongi had tufts of hair missing from his tail where he had pulled them out in anxiety and anger. Hoseok had taken to laying in his room, only coming out to eat or use the bathroom. Taehyung was gaunt. He hadn’t been eating, no matter what the others said. And Namjoon was constantly staring into space. 

He knew there was only one way this would end. They would be leaving. 

There was no question about it. 

They had assaulted, both physically and sexually, their protector. Their buffer between being in a hybrid home for the rest of their lives and the freedom you had promised. Of living in a secluded area, groceries, entertainment, and anything else they could want or think of being delivered straight to their door. No more interactions with humans. No more interactions with other hybrids, even. 

Just freedom and anonymity. 

And they had ruined it. 

Had let their emotions and pheromones go wild. Had let their animal side out and viciously attacked the one person who was hoping to help them. Only the second person who was ever kind to them, and they had almost killed you. 

They had ruined you. That was for sure. 

They all took turns keeping watch, updating each other with little tidbits of information. You went to the living room earlier than usual. You spent longer with the nurse today. You graduated to soft foods. 

You were never alone. There was no chance for Namjoon or Jin to see you, to talk to you, to explain what had happened. To express their apologies for the horror they had put you through.

But that man was with you all the time. The nurses they could write off, they were merely doing their jobs. But that man was the one who had found them, corralled them up and split them into those horrid houses. 

And he was there, tending to you. 

A fire burned in Namjoon’s chest that he couldn’t understand. 

How could they ever atone for their sins if they never had a chance to see you?

Though, who said they were worthy of forgiveness?

Chapter Text

It was a month later, late in the afternoon, when Namjoon went to the stairs to start his watch of the downstairs. The hybrids stood on the landing and listened in on what was happening downstairs, ears straining to catch your laughter or your tears. They had taken to making a schedule so all the hybrids had a chance to listen in. Namjoon would be relieving Jungkook of his shift. 

But Jungkook wasn’t there. 

His search led him to Jin’s room where he found a cranky Jin, grumbling about pancakes in his half-asleep stupor. The hybrids had all been eating the horrid hybrid kibble. It was a huge step down from the meals they were now used to. It was edible, though, and not stale, and kept restocking. 

The kitchen had also been restocked with a few basics. Milk, berries, bread, deli meats. The contents revolved in each of their minds as they chewed through their tasteless kibble. They dreamt about cooking again (or at least about Jin cooking again), but they didn’t know if they were allowed free use of the kitchen anymore. It didn’t help that the amount of groceries was always only enough for two people at most.

That fact that the man continued to buy kibble was a good sign, though, right?

Namjoon shook his head. He was doing poorly as a pack leader. No one spent time together except for Jin and Jungkook and a lot of the time, all he could hear was Jungkook whimpering. 

He continued looking, not starting to get worried until he made it to Yoongi’s room and he still hadn’t found the rabbit hybrid. 

The others had heard the commotion he was starting to cause and came out of their rooms, all of them congregating in the dimly lit hallway.

“I don’t know where he is,” he admitted angrily. “I went to switch spots and he wasn’t there.”

Yoongi stared down the hall, tail wrapped right around his waist. “It’s obvious,” he answered. “He’s downstairs.” He clenched his fur tight. “With her.” 

“And him,” added Taehyung sadly. 

Taehyung was shattered. He couldn’t believe he had lost himself so completely. Had become the one thing that the orphanage had warned him he would become. They had told him it was inevitable. It was in his nature to harm others, they had said. It was in him as a predator hybrid and he couldn’t cut it out of himself, no matter how hard he tried. 

He was bound to hurt someone, it was only a matter of time. 

And he had. He had hurt the one person who could keep them safe. Who could give them an escape. He had doomed his pack to a life of torturous pain. 

“What do we do?” asked Jimin, his ears pressed down tight to his head. 

Hosek was the one to answer. “One of us has to go down and get him.”

The air grew tense.  

It grew even more tense when Namjoon uttered the thought that had just occurred to him. “How long do you think he’s been doing this?”

Jin swore, and started to make his way quietly down the stairs, putting a stop to their increasingly louder and louder whispers. 

He found Jungkook outside of her room on the main floor. The door was open barely a sliver. 

One of Jungkook’s ears swiveled, canting up and back, toward Jin, while the other remained upright, trying to hear everything from inside the room. 

Jin could only hear deep breathing. 

He slinked as quietly as possible to Jungkook, placing warm hands on his shoulders. “Jungkook, we have to go.” 

“No.” His scent was resolute, back straight, legs set firmly. 

“This isn’t safe,” Jin hissed, trying to pull at his shoulders. But Jungkook was strong, even after several months of kibble and no exercise program. He had been too upset to exercise and then too sad. Yet he remained strong.

“Hello?”

Jungkook’s eyes widened, bottom lip trembling. He slowly, slowly edged the door open, whispering his way into the room. Shuffled his way into the room where you were perched on the bed, your back supported by pillows and the headboard, while your legs were laying comfortably under the blankets. Jin followed, too scared to say a word, too scared to say the wrong thing and ruin whatever peace this was. 

“Noona? Jungkook whispered from halfway across the room. His hands were fisted, his eyes bright with unshed tears. 

You put your book down to the side of you, and answered, voice still raspy. “Hello Jungkook,”

Jin watched you carefully, hands on Jungkook’s shoulders once more. You weren’t looking at them directly, staring at them through the giant picture window behind you. 

Jungkook burst into tears, eyes streaming immediately. “Noona!” he shouted as he flung himself toward you. 

You screamed, curling your body into a tight ball. The fear, the terror radiated off you in waves, stinking up the room.  

“No, no, no,” wailed Jungkook. “No, noona, not me,” he continued, tears leaking freely, steps away from your bed. His hands were up, heart screaming at you to know that it was him, him, your sweet, sweet Jungkookie. Your Jungkookie that nibbled at berries from your hands and followed you around the house like the overgrown pup he was. 

He tried to freeze, but ended up almost falling flat on his face. He would have, if Jin hadn’t grabbed him roughly by the shoulders. 

“We need to go,” Jin hissed, pulling at the younger hybrid. 

“No,” came your voice. Now it was time for Jin’s eyes to widen in wonder. You smelled terrified but you were breathing slowly, in and out. 

“Stay back,” you ordered. 

After a few minutes, you uncurled yourself, and lay back on the bed, pressing yourself against the soft pillows. (Jaejoong had spoiled you with these genuine goose down pillows, and now you could never go back.) 

You slowly turned your head to face them, eyes shut. 

Jungkook stood, teeth biting into his bloodied lip, hands clenching and unclenching.  

“Noona! Noona, are you okay?” He caught your gaze as your eyes opened and his cosmic eyes stared deeply into yours like he could read the truth in them. 

You were not okay. You would never be okay. And it was all their fault.

“Well, I’m alive aren’t I?” you asked with a wry grin. And coughed. Your needed water. You’d been so entranced by your book that you had forgotten to hydrate yourself like you had promised Jaejoong you would.  

“You sound funny,” he continued. “Does it hurt”

You cackled internally. Does it hurt? Does it hurt ? To be honest, the physical pain had become manageable by last month. But Jaejoong had been adamant about carrying you around, acting like your personal Prince Charming. The doctor was okay with it as long as you continued to do your prescribed exercises.

The emotional, mental pain, that was a whole other story. 

“A little,” you whispered, eyes wary. The whole time you’d been talking, Jungkook had been inching closer and closer. 

Your hand reached out for his lips, unthinking, pressingly lightly at the torn skin and fresh blood. “What happened here, Jungkook?”

He sobbed, arms hugging himself. He looked so, so sad. He would have done amazing on posters for the last generation’s hybrid adoptions. He was the poster child for poor, abandoned hybrids who only needed a loving human home to take care of them. To fix them.

“It’s okay,” you said, pulling your hand back. You felt awkward and cold like winter. None of your usual warmth was there. And you didn’t know where to find it again. 

You took the time to glance at Jin who had been hovering by the side of the bed, looking like he was already one foot out the door. 

“Hello Jin.” 

“Hello,” he intoned. His eyes were red with unshed tears. “I’m so–”

“No,” came a stern interruption from Jaejoong. 

You all startled. Jin and Jungkook must have been so focused on you that they hadn’t realized that Jaejoong was in the room, too. He had sneaked in behind them, and shut the door quietly. 

Jaejoong continued. “You talk about it when she talks about it. If she ever does.” 

You agreed. You couldn’t hear an apology right now. 

You didn’t know if you ever could. 

“Okay,” said Jin, his tail wrapping around his torso, head drooping. 

He looked up slowly, with bright eyes. “Noona,” he said. “Is there anything you want to eat?”

You startled everyone, including yourself with your quick shout, “Oh my god, yes please!”

You looked sheepishly at Jaejoong, feeling guilty. He had organized all your meals for you, ensuring nutritionally adequate meals. But a girl needed flavour to survive. 

“We’ve been ordering from salad bars for ages,” you admitted. “I need something home cooked.” 

“Hey,” interjected Jaejoong. “I choose some pretty decent meals!” .

“You keep feeding me soup! And protein shakes!” Your tone was accusatory. “If I have to drink soup one more time, I will end you!”.

Jaejoong merely rolled his eyes. “The doctor said soft foods–”

“For four weeks! Four! It’s been over twelve and I am ready to riot!”

“Noona, noona!” shouted Jungkook excitedly. “I’ll help Jin-hyung make you food!” He smiled shyly at you, eyes still bright, tear tracks fresh on his face. 

You smiled, and then stared, with wide eyes. “You… are you talking in full sentences?” you asked, absolutely confused. The hybrid counsellor you had spoken with, when Jungkook had first joined you, had said it would take time and care and nurturing for him to start talking in full sentences again. He needed a safe and stable environment. He must have finally agreed to see them, after your incident. And he had healed. 

You felt the sting of not being enough, but you were so happy for him.

You smiled wider, cheeks pink. You were so proud, and you would show it. 

“He is, we think… we think…” Jin trailed off. 

“The trauma probably did something,” interrupted Jaejoong. 

Jin hissed at him, eyes narrowed, tail bristling. Jungkook remained the same, looking even more dejected, head down.

“What do you mean probably?” you asked, your eyes narrowing. How could he not know definitively? The hybrids you could understand, kind of. Maybe Jaejoong didn’t want to share medical information without you present? But Jaejoong seemed just as clueless as they hybrids. If Jungkook had been seeing the counsellor, did it not stand to reason that the counselling was what helped him heal?

“I mean,” Jaejoong tried to continue. “I mean, what if he was able to talk properly this whole time and just–”

You threw your book at him. Hard. 

You missed. 

Fuck.

“Don’t you dare,” you seethed. “Don’t you dare make out like he didn’t suffer! Don’t you dare suggest that!” Your eyes blazed, alight with your anger. What the fuck was Jaejoong on to suggest something like that? This was not the Jaejoong you knew.

“What I meant,” you said through gritted teeth. “Was why probably ? Why do we not know for sure?”

From the corner of your eye, you saw Jin starting to step back, tugging at Jungkook with tight hands. 

You swung your gaze at them. “Don’t you dare leave,” you said, freezing them in their tracks. 

You took in their forlorn forms. Was their hair more disheveled, their fur less lustrous? Was their skin dry, slightly ashy? Were their clothes looking more than a little raggedy? You knew that hybrids tended to go through clothes quickly, their sharp claws often getting caught on their clothing. And you were seeing far more tears and rips than you liked.

“What kind of care have you been receiving?” you asked them directly. 

Jin and Jungkook looked at each other in confusion. 

“Look,” said Jaejoong, coughing awkwardly into his fist. “We should really discuss this in private–”

“What kind of care have you been receiving?” you repeated icily, completely ignoring Jaejoong.

And you knew it was wrong to demand answers as if you owned them and they owed you their answers. In your eyes they were already free and owed you nothing. 

But you needed to know.  

Jin shuffled his feet before clearing his throat, raising his arm to rub at the back of his head. “Food and board?” he stated, tone lifting at the end as if he was unsure. He glanced quickly at Jaejoong and then back to you, then his feet. 

What. The. Fuck.

“Jaejoong.”

“Yes?” he asked, tongue peeking out to wet dry lips.

You decided to ask the most pertinent question first. Clothing could be easily arranged. Shampoos could be bought. Lotions delivered. 

“Were the hybrids given counseling and medical attention?”

Jaejong cleared his throat, pulling at the collar of his shirt with his hand. “Well, it wasn’t very high on my priority list with–”

“Is that a no?” you whispered, voice tight. 

Jaejoong nodded his head, eyes on you. He lifted his hands placatingly. “But you need to know–”

“Why not?” The room was so quiet, your voice seemed to echo. 

“It slipped my mind–”

“How the fuck does something like this slip your mind ?” You were ready to pull out your hair. The sheer ineptitude of him was astounding. This was the man who had been carefully caretaking for Mr Chow’s estates for years?

“You’re supposed to be taking care of them in my stead! Counselling, medical attention, therapy of all kinds!” you threw the words at him

He went silent. 

“Organize it. Now. Prioritize it. It better not slip your mind .” You sneered. “And do something about Jungkook’s lips!”

Jaejoong nodded, eyes still down. 

And suddenly you couldn’t look at him anymore. You couldn’t look at any of them. 

“Out,” you whispered quietly, your rage on behalf of the hybrids burning down to a simmer. “All of you, out.”

The hybrids scrambled out of the room, rushing in their attempt to obey you. 

“Bye noona!” whisper-screamed Jungkook, as he was pulled out the door by a quick-footed Jin. 

Jaejoong was still standing there. Looking like a kicked puppy. You hated it when men did this. When they fucked up and knew it, they knew it and they still tried to get on your good side. To try to convince you it was a mistake. 

It was never a mistake.

You stared at him until he finally looked away, leaving with his head down and shoulders slumped.

This had been no small oversight. He had denied them medical attention. Counselling. 

Why the fuck would he do something like this? This was gross mismanagement of the hybrids. You thought you knew him better than that. He had never been incompetent in his tasks before so this was utterly perplexing. 

While you had been here, healing, the hybrids had been in the exact same house, suffering. You tried not to imagine them alone and hurting. Picking miserably at their meals (you were so jealous of Jin and Yoongi’s cooking) while in pain. 

But a part of you wanted them to suffer. A part of you wanted them to break down into a million tiny pieces, sad ghosts of their own lives. Shadows of their former selves. Doomed to roam the earth with the heaviest of hearts and the guiltiest of consciences.

But that wasn’t all of you. 

You had learned from the doctors and the counselor who specialized in post-hybrid attack care. Learned and done research of your own. You now knew every intricacy of pheromone hazes. Of how they were completely involuntary, pheromones blinding and binding packmates as one. Of the exponential effects packmates could have on one another, each one egging the other one on like a row of dominos. Of the blinding need to fix the smallest of perceived slights to the most egregious of insults. Of the intense need to bite, to harm, to make submit. For the good of the pack. 

For the good of the pack, they would do anything. 

And they had.

Forewarned was forearmed. And you had not educated yourself on this even being a possibility. And it had been. A big one. Four predators in one pack was not often seen precisely for this reason. The chances of pheromone hazes occurring was too high to be comfortable. To be safe. 

And you, ever the fool, had missed this key bit of information. 

You had just dillydallied away, playing house with the hybrids that were meant to leave you. Never thinking to educate yourself more. Being perfectly content to interfere in their lives. When they were meant to be out on their own one day. Meant to be free. 

And here you were paying the ultimate price for your ignorance. 

The hybrids gathered in Hoseok’s room. Hoseok was bundled up, pallor off color; the kibble did not sit well with him the most.

“She said what?” he asked.

Jin repeated himself for the third time, “She said yes when I asked if she wanted me to cook something for her.”

The hybrids sat quietly, each digesting the information. Then they all began speaking over each other. 

“What’s the first meal?”

“Who’s getting the groceries?”

“Will dogbreath order them?”

“Are the rest of us allowed in the kitchen, too?”

“Do you think… she’s forgiving us?” 

The last question was uttered by Jimin. 

“No,” answered Namjoon. “She doesn’t see or hear us until she asks for us. We go by her timeline, whatever it may be.”

“But if we don’t apologize–” 

“Taehyung, enough,” said Yoongi. “Namjoon’s right. We have no right to demand she forgive us–”

Taehyung rose, indignant. “I am not demanding she forgive us! I want her to know we’re sorry!”

“We already told her. Tell her. With the letters that the man lets us write to her.”

Jaejoong (known as “Dogbreath” to Taehyung) begrudgingly took their carefully written letters every week. At first, they had wanted to write every day, but he had said once a week or nothing. So they took their letter to him once a week, each filled with prayers and dreams of healing.

The hybrids poured their hearts out into the letters. More than one was tear-stained. But each was earnest and heartfelt. Namjoon had tried to explain the pheromone haze, as an explanation, not an excuse, but it was difficult without the phone to look up sources. He had wanted to be as accurate as possible. Seokjin mentioned meals you would share together one day. Yoongi’s letters were scrawled all over, half thoughts and half musical notes, always looking for the perfect way to apologize, to atone. Hoseok shared his poetry, something he never even showed his packmates. Jimin wrote “I’m sorry,” over and over again until his hand cramped, and then he wrote some more. Taehyung always included small portraits of you, which were becoming more and more abstract. He didn’t want to admit that he was starting to forget what you looked like. And Jungkook wrote to you about the happenings of the house, keeping you well versed in the comings and goings of a family of birds that had nested next to his window.

They hadn’t received a single reply.

“She hasn’t replied, so we wait,” said Namjoon. “It’s her timeline, and no matter how badly we want to fix this. We can’t.”

The younger three started to whine. “How do we even know she’s getting the letters when–” 

Yoongi ended all their bickering. “There’s literally no point in worrying; she’ll talk to us when she’s ready, and not a moment before. We do not rush her. And as for the food, we’ll find out when we go downstairs.”

“I’d give it an hour, at least,” stated Namjoon. “That’s a good amount of time for the groceries to be ordered and delivered.” 

“A watched pot never boils,” stated Jin sagely. “But I’m too excited at the thought of cooking to stay here!” And with that, he left the room, feet thundering down the hall. 

Jungkook jumped up, leaving the room to follow Jin. 

Yoongi sighed, getting to his feet with a groan. “Guess I’d better join them.”

In the end, all the hybrids went down to the kitchen. The pack spent two hours sitting quietly until the food was delivered directly into the kitchen, Jaejoong following the deliveryman carefully. He raised a single eyebrow at them before walking away.  

Jin dived into the bags, eager to see what he had to work with. Soon enough, his forehead was wrinkled, lips tight. 

“What’s wrong?” asked Taehyung, catching onto his souring scent quickly.

Jin sighed heavily. “He ordered only enough for two or three people, max.” He was cooking for the two of you, and the two of you only. 

The hybrids all swore heavily, cursing the bastard in more and more colourful ways.

That didn’t do anything to change the fact that they would still be eating kibble. 

Upon deeper investigation, Jin realized that the idiot of a man had, however, bought an excess of eggs. Four dozen. He must have hit the wrong number when selecting them.

This he could work with. 

The hybrids were settling down a week later, getting ready to eat lunch. They were all in their seats and Yoongi had just sat down after dishing out their meals. Kibble with scrambled eggs. Thankfully Jaejoong had continued to order an excessive number of eggs.

Suddenly, all the hybrids stilled. Ears swiveled, and noses twitched. 

It couldn’t be.

A minute later, you walked into the room, empty dishes in hand, pausing in the doorway. It was your first time seeing all the hybrids at once. You waited for the panic to grip you, but instead, you were frozen. 

You felt nothing.

Jimin rushed up to meet you, the first to break free from your shared panic. You were still frozen. You couldn’t think, couldn’t scream. You blinked at him.

“You didn’t need to bring those!” he yelped, grabbing the dishes out of your hands. 

You knew your lunch, in fact, all your meals, were always brought in and removed carefully by the hybrids. They seemed to do it in turns, a new hybrid for each meal. You always kept a wary eye on them as they moved in your space. But today you had felt like stretching your legs. Jaejoong wasn’t in for the first time in forever, citing a series of business meetings he could not miss. So you decided to return the dishes yourself. 

You hovered in the doorway as Jimin took the dishes to the dishwasher, willing yourself to walk away. 

“Lunch was great,” you said, instead, unsure of what was compelling you to speak. “Thanks so much.”

The pack stared at you, gazes focused in a way that was starting to raise your heartbeat.  

Namjoon went to grab his water glass, but accidentally flung his bowl halfway across the room, spilling the contents all over the floor. You would laugh (Namjoon the gentle giant was always breaking something by accident) but the food had clattered all over the floor. 

Clattered. 

You reached down to pick up a piece off the floor, heart sinking as you realized what you were holding. 

Maybe you were wrong. 

Did freeze-dried tofu exist?

“What is this?” you asked, holding the crunchy-looking, brownish-grey pebble in front of you. 

None of the hybrids would meet your eyes, all of them frozen. Jimin had made it back to the table in record speed. All of them were staring at their meals like they were the most interesting things in the world.

“Jungkook,” you said quietly, knowing he wouldn’t deny you. “Is this kibble?”

Your eyes began to sting when he nodded, still refusing to lift his head. 

You must have been missing something. Each hybrid had shared a horror story with you about eating kibble. Too dry, too stale, too flavourless. Soaked in lukewarm water, bringing it to a tasteless, grainy gruel. Withheld for days as punishment. 

They would rather eat dirt than eat kibble willingly. So why on earth were they eating kibble?

You asked them directly, never having known them to lie to you. “Why are you eating kibble?”

They sat in uncomfortable silence, until Yoongi spoke. “That’s all there is.”

Your mind reeled. “That’s all there is?” You stalked deeper into the kitchen, opening cupboards and drawers. “What do you mean…” You trailed off, opening empty cupboard after empty cupboard. Empty drawer followed by empty drawer.

You walked to the oversized pantry in a daze. Opened the door and stared. 

Kibble. Crates and crates of kibble. Generic, cheap quality kibble. Where was the carefully crafted pantry Jin and Yoongi had worked so hard on? Where were the snacks Jungkook always whined for, but got in the end because no one could say no to his big puppy dog eyes? The cheeseballs Jimin would scarf down by himself, so fast that you were afraid he would choke?

You swung around, slamming the pantry door behind you. You couldn’t look at it without wanting to cry. What was this? Where was all the food? Had you been eating heart warming meals all week with Jaejoong (all these past three months!) while the hybrids had been eating kibble?

You stared at the hybrids, horrified. “Why didn’t you order more food? Why kibble?”

Was this some twisted self-flagellation? A self-imposed punishment? You couldn’t believe it. Not with their history. 

“The phone is gone.”

Your stomach lurched. “What do you mean it’s gone? Why don’t you use one of …” You trailed off. You never got them phones. You completely and utterly forgot to get them. None of them ever expressed interest in activities outside the home so it hadn’t been a priority. 

“How long, how long have you been…” You trailed off, wetting your lips with your tongue, your mouth suddenly dry. There was only one person who could have taken that phone away. 

Still, none of them would meet your eyes.

You shuffled slowly to the table, grabbing your phone from your pocket. You swiped in your password and cleared the many notifications from Jaejoong. You handed the phone over to Jin, taking care to take two large steps away from the table immediately after, knowing exactly where you were and who you were with. 

“Order everything you need,” you told them, voice cracking as you strained to remain calm. “Everything. You can drop the phone off when you’re done. 

“I, I’ll be in my room,” you stammered, as you ran from the hybrids.

Your mind was racing, thoughts going back again and again to Jaejoong. 

Kim Jaejoong. 

How much did you really know about this man? The man who had so easily melded himself into your life? How well did you know him? You knew he liked to read, and enjoyed watching action movies. That he was strong, and used to fence. He was blessed with a great voice (and an even greater physique).

You decided to snoop. (Was it snooping if it was your house?) 

Jaejoong had turned a room on the main floor into his office. Sometimes you read on the couch while he worked on lawyer things. He told you it was all boring stuff about the estates, and the various legal battles with Mr Chow’s many offspring. It was here where you carefully read over proposals and counter proposals, each jargon-filled to the max, before you signed them. Jaejoong was always urging you to just sign the papers but you couldn’t help it. Mr Chow had always warned you to read everything before you signed it, no matter how close you were to whoever was handing you the paperwork. 

Not that you thought Jaejoong would get you to sign something untoward. 

Right?

You walked boldly in the room, settling yourself easily in his chair. After some quick shuffling, you realized that there was nothing of importance on his desk. There was, however, a locked bottom drawer of his desk. 

Immediately you got up and went to the shelves located to the right of the desk. Once, in a half asleep stupor, you had half awoken to him fumbling at those shelves. You hadn’t thought of it until now. 

There were several figurines on the shelves. And only one was clear of dust. You lifted it and found a shiny, silver key.

Bingo. 

You hurried back to the desk, unlocking the drawer and falling to your knees so you could easily go through the files. They were in reverse chronological order, the papers at the front being the newest.

The first things you came across were order forms. For kibble. All signed off by Jaejoong. A couple of sheets further back in the folder were copies of letters sent to Mr Chow’s children, insisting on the nutritional value of kibble for all meals. 

What the fuck. 

There was a single sheet detailing weekly confidential shredding. You figured it had been put in the drawer by accident. Simple office privacy policies had nothing to do with the hybrids. 

You went to another folder. This one contained letters from your doctor. All of them asking about the hybrids and what kind of care they were receiving, post-incident. You flinched at that, “incident’. What you went through was so much more than an “incident”. 

The letters became more and more concerned as you worked your way to the latest letter. The last letter demanded that the hybrids be given counselling as a bare minimum. If not to help them process their feelings, then to stop a second incident from occurring, as a result of gross negligence. 

Jaejoong’s final letter was a notice of termination of employment. It included a very hefty severance sum. It was dated one month ago. 

Was that why your doctor had changed? The previous doctor, a stoic man of few words, had been good to you. The new doctor was acceptable, but you hated how positive he was. He was too chipper to deal with. Especially early in the morning. 

So Jaejoong had willfully denied hybrids medical attention and counselling, going against direct medical advice. Why on earth had he done that? 

You put the papers back and went to another folder. A letter to Mr Chow’s children, outlining how the hybrids would be split up into each of their houses. Signed by Jaejoong. You stared at all the letters of acceptance of terms and your heart hurt. 

It had been Jaejoong’s idea to separate the hybrids. It had been his idea to deny care. His idea to feed them kibble.

You had promised Jin. You had promised him that he could eat all the food he cooked. And Jaejoong had made you break that promise.

This was not the Jaejoong you knew. There must have been a mistake. But the papers were there in front of you in black and white. Were you misreading them? Was this  highly realistic fever dream?

You had to talk to him about this. You had to figure this out. But how? Oh hey Jaejoong, I went into the locked drawer of your desk and went through all your files, care to explain what’s going on?

You couldn’t. 

But you could hire a private investigator. 

You tried to push your revelations to the back of your head. It was easy when Jaejoong was so calm, so polite, so perfect. You couldn’t imagine him dooming an innocent pack to separation and all the pain it entailed. The damage it did to body and psyche. You couldn’t imagine him forcing the hybrids to eat kibble day in and day out. 

You kept dropping off your dishes in the kitchen while the hybrids had their meals. Your counselor said it was good exposure therapy. The kitchen was so large and airy, it was easy for you to stroll in while they were chowing down on their (now delicious and nutritious) food and still feel safe. 

Tonight, you showed up before dinner was served. You were feeling restless, and weren’t quite sure what had led you to the kitchen. 

Jaejoong was gone again for the day. More immovable meetings. 

You were struggling to keep your composure around him. A part of you desperately wanted to confront him. To yell at him, scream at him, throw things at him. You wanted to hurl all those figurines straight at his head. 

But you smiled. And you laughed. And you tried desperately not to tip him off on your new information. There was a part of you that was convinced he had gone down the “hybrids aren’t humans” pipeline. That somehow he had been brainwashed into thinking that hybrids were subhuman. That they were lesser. 

And that was fixable. He just needed to spend more time with them, get to know them like you knew them. But you knew they were like oil and water, separating at the mere mention of the other. They refused to be in the same room for longer than it took for one of them to leave.

Jungkook broke you out of your reverie. “Join us, noona.” he pleaded, eyes wide and shining. 

You shuddered. “I can’t,” you said, heart racing at even the idea of joining the hybrids for a meal. It was ludicrous.

But he came to you, and took your arm. You felt yourself being guided to the table. You were glad to see that his clothes looked less worn, that his hair looked more lustrous, the fur on his ears shining. 

Jin was finishing up putting full dishes of food on the table. Once he was done, he sat on one side of you, while Jungkook sat on the other. 

Oh, you were sitting down.

At some unknown cue, the other hybrids started entering the room, all of them jostling to get to the table first. Until they saw you. And froze. 

Just like you did.

“Don’t just stand there,” said Yoongi, whacking Taehyung on the back of his head as he walked past him. He sat down and started shoveling large amounts of noodles onto his plate. 

The others followed suit, each of them taking a seat and serving themselves. Jin took the liberty of piling your plate high with food. It smelled delicious, but in a distant kind of way. 

You felt like you were in a tunnel. Everything was narrowing down to a single point.

Everyone was silent as they stared at their food, eyes often darting to you furtively. They all played with their food, moving it from side to side on their plates.

And you sat there with them, panic rising in waves, heart hammering in your chest. What were you doing? You weren’t anywhere near ready to have a meal with the pack when you could barely walk through the kitchen with them in it. How had this happened? You just wanted to see Jungkookie and-and-and–

Jin put his hand over yours, and gave it a squeeze. “You don’t have to stay,” he murmured, hand warm over yours. 

“Say something,” you pleaded, mouth drying out as you spoke. You needed someone to talk, to fill the abysmal vacuum of terror you were stuck in. Preferably before you started screaming into the abyss. 

“I... we don’t know what to say,” said Hoseok, trying to fill the silence.  

Your expression was flat, features neutral, but inside you was a tumultuous storm. “Neither do I.”

You needed to leave. You needed to leave, now.

You breathed heavily, and instead of leaving, you spoke. “What you did was wrong. Horrifically, horrifically wrong.”

You looked up and found that the mood around the table was dark. Jungkook was sniffling, clearly trying not to burst into tears. The other hybrids were in similar states, faces red, eyes shining. Jimin’s face was already wet with tears.  

You couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“I’m not angry,” you continued, word spilling from your lips in a nervous, jittery blur. “At least not right now. I have been and I will continue to be angry. That’s the nature of healing.” 

You looked around the table at the broken faces, heart still threatening to burst from your chest, and asked the stupidest question in an effort to keep the silence a bay. 

“Are you guys okay?”

Jimin burst into sobs, crying noisily as he fought for air, and you flinched at the sudden outburst. Jin tightened his grip. 

You had to leave, you had to leave–

Yoongi, with tears in his eyes, asked, “How can you ask that after what… after what we did?”

You honestly weren’t sure how you were sitting there with them all without screaming and shaking. You wondered distantly if you were going into shock. Maybe you were already in shock. 

“I got counseling,” you said, mouth moving of its own accord. “And I’m still getting counseling. You’ve had no support. 

“Have… Have you been getting counseling?” Distantly you felt yourself cross your fingers under the table, wishing, hoping. 

Hoseok answered, “In a few weeks. We’ll be doing individual and group therapy."

Your heart lifted. So Jaejoong had organized therapy for everyone. Maybe you hadn’t understood the papers properly. You had been so stressed, going through them. It was possible you misread them, misconstrued them, misunderstood them. You had probably read them wrong. Jaejoong hadn’t tried to break apart the pack, causing them indescribable pain. There was no way.

He couldn’t have. 

He wouldn’t have. 

He couldn’t have. 

He wouldn’t–

Namjoon interrupted your thoughts. “We haven’t approached you because we know… we know you needed space. We know nothing we say can ever make up for what we did…”

“But we are so, so sorry,” finished Taehyung, tears making their way down his face. 

“That’s the worst part,” you whispered, finally finding your strength, removing your hand from Jin’s warm grip. “I know you are.”

You stood up, chair clattering noisily behind you as it fell over. You raced out of the kitchen, spell broken, leaving the weeping hybrids in your wake, tears streaming down your face. 

You struggled for your phone, knowing it was in one of your pockets. Fuck immovable meetings, and fuck shady paperwork, you needed Jaejoong and you needed him now.