Vipers in the Lake | BTS Gang x Reader

12. Short Straw

The front door slammed open, Jin supporting the weight of a pallid Jungkook, right as the elevator dinged open at the bottom of the stairs. 

"Careful of the walls!" Jin barked, watching the poor driving as you and Taehyung swung the gurney between you around the corner. Namjoon thundered down the stairs, cell phone pressed to his ear as he ordered around the person on the end of the line, chilling authority lining his tone.

"Four medics. And a surgeon. NOW." He thrust his phone into his back pocket, helping Jin and Taehyung haul their younger friend onto the portable medi-bed. Jungkook's head rolled back, eyes glassy and skin drenched in sweat. In horror, your eyes slid down to his right lower quadrant, where the light grey of his t-shirt was turning a sickeningly dark shade of red. 

"Oh my God," you choked thickly, arms hanging useless at your sides. The men around you started to pull the gurney back toward the elevator, Jin's hands pressing a gauze firmly to the gunshot wound. You followed, eyes darting between Jungkook's midriff and the grim line of his friend's lips. Opening your mouth to ask what to do, how to help, you began to follow. 

A hand grabbed onto yours, clammy fingers sliding across your skin. Jungkook was reaching out to the side, seemingly unaware of what he was doing. You clapped your hand over his, smaller fingers slipping between his larger ones to cup gently around his knuckles. Taehyung smoothed the dripping hair back off his forehead as the elevator started to move. 

"What-" you began, stuttering wildly in panic. "What are we going to do?"

"We're going to hook him up to an IV," Namjoon's voice cut through the low hum of the elevator, confident and self-assured. "And then we're going to wait for the doctors to arrive. And then, judging by the state of that wound," Namjoon sighed, shaking his head as he stared down at his injured friend. "They'll take out his kidney."

The elevator door shuddered open to reveal Yoongi, face stern. The cursed under his breath as he saw the state Jungkook was in, turning and heading straight for the medic's room, his comrades in tow. Taking in the room, surprise settled into the pit of your stomach. The scientists, the gunmen and the people clicking away on computers seemed to just.. carry on. None stared, none looked on in horror at the chaotic scene unfolding just a few metres away. They just cleared a path through the centre of the room, and went back to what they were doing.

Wow. This really does happen often, then.

Upon reaching the infirmary, you took a step back, prying Jungkook's hand from your own, and letting the stronger men lift their friend onto a proper bed. Jin's deft fingers worked rapidly, and soon, Jungkook had wires coming out of various places, a drip beside his bed.

It didn't take long for the medics to arrive.

They swept into the room, self-assured and nodding sullenly at the gang members, who joined you beside the wall. Quick fingers and even quicker minds gathered supplies and pulled drapes over the sweating man, who now appeared to be in and out of consciousness. They cut his t-shirt, pulling the wet cloth from his skin. Your breath caught at the sight; not at the aureate skin,  stretched tight over sinewy cuts of muscle, but at the wide, gaping hole which spurted blood down and over the side of the bed.

"Okay Mr Jeon," one of the medics said, injecting a pale, clouding liquid through a venflon in the back of his hand. "We're going to put you to sleep now."

He didn't look like he heard. In fact, it looked as though he was already long asleep.

The surgeon, a burly, stern-faced man turned to look at the group hovering in the corner. "If you wouldn't mind." He said, nodding toward the door. "We don't need an audience. His condition is critical." The three men with you acted immediately, opening and disappearing through the glass door. Ina daze, you followed on heavy feet.