Ego: Hit and Run (Taekook)

The Way Things Have To Be For Us

Waking up is hard. Period.

Waking up after having a mental catharsis, however, felt like absolute death. And Kim Taehyung felt like dying.

He had a vague recollection of being in a car after he passed out, and an even shadier memory of being brought into a house. Jeon house. And he knew that because now he remembered. He remembered everything.

Betraying his best friend for the sake of revenge. Check. Eight years of killing for his boss. Check. Almost getting Jeongguk killed because Park had him infiltrate Gwanlija. Check, check, check.

And who knew that remembering every horrible thing a person has ever done in a lifetime all at once would feel worse than a migraine. Go figure!

So when Taehyung woke up in his bed at Jeon house the next morning, his head was feeling like it was the one to take a dagger, rather than his stomach. A fissure of epic proportions had settled permanently in the back of his cranium, creating a rift of dull throbbing.

But that wasn't the worst pain Taehyung was feeling as he came to, because now that his memories had come back during his breakdown, the guilt had also hitched a ride along. The silent killer that ripped him apart from the inside, leaving internal bruises in its wake.

Because not only had he been snitching on classified Gwanlija information to a potential enemy, he was also the reason why Park had known Jeongguk had come to Japan with him in the first place, leaving him a lamb for the slaughter in that darned nightclub.

Taehyung winced as he remembered what he had said to the boy in his moment of weakness, recalling the death-bed love confession he was sure his hormone-driven mind had thought up to distract himself from his impending death.

Besides, I could never like anyone like him. Besides the fact that I could never even be attracted to another man, he's a Jeon. And I work for Park. It's simply impossible! I was just high on endorphins and was just as likely about to start praying to a God I don't even believe in— His mind short-circuited as he retraced over an important bit of information he had forgotten.

Shit. Park! He'll kill me for ghosting him! Not to mention he's probably already suspicious about the slaughter of his assassins...

He abruptly sat up from his mound of pillows, groaning out loud when his head protested with a more intense round of pounding at the sudden movement. Taehyung stilled, waiting for the pain to subside, shaking with tremors as his body seized in a vice grip of aches.

After what felt like hours of mental torture, but in reality was a mere thirty seconds, Taehyung had the strength to return to his previous task: finding his phone to contact Park. But the world didn't work that way (or it probably still hated Kim Taehyung), since his phone was nowhere in sight.

Great.

He stood up from his mattress, with extreme caution as to not aggravate his smarting brain, surveying his room for any communication devices. When he found none, his attention was diverted by an itching on his wound-site. He took one look at the state of his stitches before detouring for the en suite bathroom to clean himself up.

He was in the middle of changing his bandage (a deed he was sad to realize he needed to do since he had torn his wound right back open again), when the bathroom door swung open without warning. It happened so fast that the hinges made a squeaking sound of protest, and so forcefully that the door slammed into the inside wall of the bathroom, promptly scaring the living shit out of Taehyung's unsuspecting body.

"What the FUCK!" he yelled, clutching his chest in surprise.

He glared at the invader, finding none other than a sheepish-looking Jeon Jeongguk standing in the door way. He glowered at the younger, leaning down to pick up the discarded gauze he had dropped in his alarm.