Don't Come Inside • Jungkook

xxvi.

Jungkook sat at the kitchen table, hands shaking, eyes twitching as he stared down at the wood. The door was locked; he'd checked it, six times now. She couldn't get in, and they couldn't, either. No one to watch him here. No one to condemn him. He was safe. He was okay. It would all be okay.

Jimin was fine. Hoseok and Taehyung, too. They were all okay, they were just hiding. Waiting for the right time to escape. Yoongi had only told him they were dead in order to trick her. The police would find the building, and then they'd all come out.

The refrigerator hummed, and Jungkook startled, his arms jolting out, his right arm hitting the edge of the table and falling off. He pulled his arms in, wrapping them around himself. It would be okay. He'd be okay.

A sudden knock at the door had him falling out of his seat, his legs hitting the kitchen floor, knees grinding against the tile. He pushed his legs out in front of him, kicking against the floor and pushing himself against the wall. They couldn't get him in here. He'd be safe in here. He just had to hide until...

The police.

Jungkook jolted again, shoulders slamming against the wall. The police, he'd called the police a while ago. They said last time that they'd send a unit over to his apartment.

No, it can't be them, Jungkook reasoned, his head twitching to the side as his eyes made out the digits on the oven. It was almost 4:00 AM. He'd called a little after midnight. If they'd been that busy, they wouldn't have bothered sending anyone over to his place, would they have?

But what if it was them? What if they needed more information? What if they'd think it was a prank call if he didn't answer? What if this was his one chance to fix everything?

Jungkook bit at his finger, blood welling at the tip and trailing down, rolling over the knuckle and heading for his wrist.

He realized that the apartment had gone quiet.

They'd left.

The police had come to help him, and he'd let them leave.

"No, no, wait," Jungkook mumbled, his voice hoarse as he stumbled to his feet, pushing his hand off against the wall. "Wait, p-please," Jungkook said, his voice getting louder as his desperation surged. He hurtled through the apartment, banging his shin on one of the kitchen chairs, pushing against the kitchen counter to send him towards the door, his shoulder catching on the drywall. "Wait!" he screamed, falling into the door, fingers scrambling over the chain, unable to slide it, and then he was ripping at it, fingers bleeding as he scraped them recklessly against the metal, clawing for purchase, and then the chain was removed and all that was left was the deadbolt and he flipped it and put his hand on the doorknob and yanked the door open and reached out to stop them from leaving him alone with the guilt and the doubt and the fear and the knowledge that he was weak and helpless and utterly pathetic and-

His hand grasped empty air.

There was no one there, no one to reach out to, no one to stop.

The hallway was empty.

They'd already left.

"No, please," Jungkook whimpered, hands coming up to hold his head, spreading streaks of blood across his forehead and around his eyes. "No," he repeated, staring at the elevator doors in the distance. They mocked him, remaining firmly shut. He had wanted to keep everyone out, but now, when he needed someone the most, those doors had taken them away from him. "It wasn't supposed to happen like this," he mumbled, fingers widening and threading into his hair, clutching at his scalp, ten points of pressure digging into his skull. "I was supposed to get help," he said to the empty hallway. "I was going to get help, and...and everything was going to be...everyone would be okay...Jimin...Hoseok...Taehyung...everyone...I was going to...they were all going to..."

Slowly, Jungkook lowered himself to the ground, his legs giving way beneath him, no longer able to hold up the weight of additional guilt.

That's when he saw them.

Three new packages.