Sorry these haven't been very consistent. I promise I'm still writing it! Thanks to everyone who's still reading <3
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Jungkook couldn't take it anymore.
He had been trapped in this room for god knows how long, staring at the four walls that made up his makeshift prison, counting the grooves nicked into the smooth stone of the ceiling as a way of passing the time.
Every day was more of the same. He woke up, tugged at his arms to discover that he was still handcuffed to his bed as a means of forcing him to rest, and waited until Beomgyu, who'd he'd discovered was the Anarchists' resident medic, would arrive to tend to his injuries and offer him food and water and, every few hours, a bathroom break. Since he could barely stand to walk on his wounds, Beomgyu had to help him hobble to the toilet, quietly standing outside the door to wait for him to knock on it to let him know he was done.
Jungkook hated every second of it.
Even if he could have been able to gather enough strength to shove aside Beomgyu, the Viper insisted on being present for every time Jungkook's handcuffs were removed, a silent warning drifting along behind him, watching for any attempt he might make to escape.
Not that he was dumb enough to try.
After the initial adrenaline and paranoia of waking up in an unfamiliar place had worn off, once the pain had settled in, he'd finally gotten a good look at the damage done to him.
A broken bone in his right leg earned from when the catwalk had buckled beneath him that sent laces of sharp, undiluted agony coursing through his body every time he allowed weight to settle on it. A long, thin cut that sliced through the left side of his face.
But worst of all were the burns.
A deep, crimson red even after a couple of days, they danced across his right forearm, leaving splashes of raised skin in their wake, trailing all the way up and over his bicep to slash through the leftover scars littered on his back. Every little movement, every scratch of his shirt against his aggravated skin, sent a new wave of pain shooting through his scorched nerves until he felt like he was drowning in it.
Beomgyu did his best to alleviate the torment, but he wasn't magic. The cool compresses he pressed against the burns could only do so much. The rest would have to be left up to time. Time he didn't have.
He couldn't stop himself from thinking of his gang. Were they okay? Had they made it out? If anything had happened to them, to Taehyung, he was going to tear Yoongi apart limb from limb, dragging it out until he was begging for the sweet release of death. He was going to make him wish he hadn't ever thought he could betray them and get away with it.
Jungkook's head lifted up at the sound of the door being unlocked.
Like every time before this, he gave an experimental pull at the cuffs, hoping they'd give, but they held firm. There was no hope of escape. Not until whoever their stupid boss was decided that he'd had enough of charity and let him go.
Jungkook rested his head back down against the pillow they'd at least had the decency to give him as Beomgyu poked his head inside the door, lugging his bag of medical supplies in behind him.
A scowl tugged at the edges of Jungkook's mouth as he spotted a glimpse of familiar red hair lingering in the hallway. "Doesn't he have anything better to do?" he grumbled.
Beomgyu followed his gaze to the boy hovering outside of the door as he shifted forward to remove the used compresses from Jungkook's burns. "If it makes you feel any better," the other boy muttered as he leaned forward to inspect the wounds' progress, "I believe he's following me, not you."
Jungkook raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to elaborate.
"He thinks that I can't defend myself." Beomgyu rolled his eyes as he replaced the compresses with fresh ones, allowing a little relief to slip into Jungkook's consciousness. "But I've been here for two years. I know the risks that this life poses and I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to join them. He's just overprotective, that's all."
"What does he think I could possibly do to you when I can't even move my arms?" Jungkook asked, yanking on the bonds for emphasis.
"Maybe you should worry less about not being able to move your arms and more about what I'm going to do to you once I no longer have to pretend to be nice to you," Taehyun called from the hall, flashing the oldest boy a dangerous smile.
"If this is you pretending, you must be a really shitty actor," Jungkook said smugly.
Taehyun's expression darkened.
Beomgyu shot both boys a sharp look. "What are you two, five?"
"Yeah, five years older than him," Jungkook grumbled under his breath. "Is it too much to ask for some damn respect around here?"
"That's the thing with this lot," a new voice said from the doorway. Jungkook's muscles tensed in anticipation as another boy stepped into the dim light cast from the weak lights within the room, a smirk dancing across his lips. Beneath the harsh lighting, his yellow hair seemed almost luminescent. "They're the rudest bunch of snot-nosed assholes I've ever met. They're practically incapable of doing anything remotely polite. If you figure out how to knock them down a few pegs, it would be much appreciated."
Rolling his eyes, Beomgyu leaned forward to inspect the splint tied to Jungkook's healing leg, making sure that it was still firmly attached. "That's pretty big talk from someone who would rather spend his time memorizing the shape of Soobin's ass rather than how to shoot a gun properly."
A snicker came from the shadows out in the hall, causing the yellow-haired boy's face to twist into a scowl, a hint of red blooming across his cheeks. "Yeah, well I could still kick your scrawny ass any day, if your bodyguard would ever leave you unprotected," he said with a meaningful look in Taehyun's direction.
The amusement faded from the youngest's face, but he made no move to start toward the unfamiliar intruder, held back by the pointed look Beomgyu shot at him.
The other boy set the last of stuff in his medical bag, twisting to give the yellow-haired boy a disapproving glare. "Was there something you came here to tell us, Yeonjun, or do you simply exist to cause trouble?"
The taller boy flashed him a mischievous grin. "It happens to be one of my favorite pastimes. But no. The Ghost sent me to fetch the prisoner." He gave a nod toward Jungkook, his eyes focusing on the cuffs binding him to the bed. "Although I must admit, I will be sad to see those go. If you want, once you heal I can teach you how best to use them. They say I'm quite good with my-"
"Alright, that's enough," Beomgyu cut in quickly. Jungkook shot him a grateful look.
The medic twisted toward the door, extending a hand out behind him toward the red-haired boy lingering in the hall. "Taehyun, the key," he called.
Uncrossing his arms to slide a hand into his pocket, Taehyun placed the key in Beomgyu's outstretched hand, his eyes narrowing into dark slits as he let his gaze fall on Jungkook. "If you try anything, Jeon, I won't hesitate to put a bullet through your skull, do you understand?"
The edge of Jungkook's mouth quirked upward into a crooked grin as he pushed himself up on one elbow as Beomgyu began to release him from his bindings, ignoring the sharp spikes of pain that went through his body as he sat up. "I wouldn't expect anything less. In fact, I think I might be disappointed if you don't."
"I like this guy," Yeonjun said through a smirk, allowing his gaze to rake over the oldest's muscular body appreciatively. "Can we keep him?"
"I thought you were seeing the leader of that gang just down the street?" Beomgyu questioned as he moved to undo the last cuff.
Yeonjun simply shrugged. "He got boring."
Jungkook sat up as quickly as his injuries would allow him once the final bond was free, trying to focus on the relief washing through his chafed wrists instead of the way Taehyun edged closer to him warily. He felt a small burst of affection go through his chest when Beomgyu slapped the red-haired boy's arm for him to move back a couple of steps as he moved to help Jungkook to his feet.
Yeonjun clapped his hands together brightly. "Alrighty then, let's get this show on the road. We don't want to keep Binnie waiting!"
Jungkook's jaw clenched together as he managed to stand straight up, a lance of pain shooting up his broken leg as he allowed some of his weight to sink onto it. Gripping on to Beomgyu's arm tightly to avoid teetering to the floor, Jungkook almost split into a wide grin when he saw the smirk Taehyun had worn when the boss was struggling to get up disappear into a fierce scowl the second he wrapped his hand around the medic at his shoulder.
Almost.
Skipping merrily into the hallway as if they were on their way to buy sweets rather than delivering the wounded leader of the most fearsome gang on the streets to their boss, Yeonjun whistled a tune under his breath as he led the way, every so often glancing back only to become deeply amused at the promise of murder spelled across Taehyun's face as he refused to so much as stray a foot away from Jungkook's side as long as the boss had his hands on the brown-haired boy.
Jungkook had heard a lot about the Anarchists' right hand, heard of how the gangs who had dared to underestimate them had faced a fate worse than death at the Viper's hands, but what worried him more was how little he'd heard about their leader.
He'd managed to squeeze a few drops of information from Beomgyu during his scheduled visits, but it wasn't anything he hadn't heard before.
They called him the Ghost. The faceless boss behind the whole organization, he preferred to remain in the shadows of their den, running things from behind the scenes. Those who were unlucky enough to have looked upon his real face hadn't lived long enough to tell the tale.
Jungkook couldn't help but wonder if he would be one of them. Had Beomgyu meant when he said about their help being genuine? Or had this all just been one elaborate scheme to welcome him into their den and make him let down his guard enough for them to strike?
A spark of red-hot determination flared up within him as he let his thumb drift to the empty finger on his right hand. He wasn't going to die this easily, not before he could learn of what happened to his gang. Not before he could hunt Yoongi down to the ends of the earth and kill him himself.
As they reached the shadowed mouth of a doorway, Yeonjun finally paused, twisting over his shoulder to look at the three males behind him. His gaze settled on Jungkook's as he gestured toward the depthless darkness that seemed to smirk back at him. "After you."
Straightening up as much as he could, Jungkook lifted his head as high as his injured body would allow him, turning to the two boys at his sides. Beomgyu gave him a reassuring nod, while Taehyun's face remained as dark as a stormcloud.
Figuring it was the best he was going to get, Jungkook forced his broken body to start forward, tightening his grasp on Beomgyu whenever he felt his control slipping. The brown-haired boy supported him as much as he could in return, shuffling along at his slow pace as was needed. It was enough to give him the strength to keep going.
For he couldn't stop. Every second that ticked by here was another one spent worrying. Worrying about his friends, about Taehyung, about his gang. Worrying about what Yoongi had done to them while he'd been chained to that fucking bed day and night, forced to bicker with little kids. If that meant walking into the shadows and facing the faceless head-on, then so be it.
There was nothing he wouldn't do for those he cared about.
Nothing he was above.
And no one was going to prevent him from getting back to them.
A shiver travelled down Jungkook's spine as they edged further into the room, his breath coming out in tiny clouds of silver. Every step brought them closer to the darkness, the shadows swallowing them whole.
And then, suddenly, they stopped.
This time when he clenched Beomgyu's arm it wasn't for balance. Through the layers of darkness swimming before him, he could feel a presence looming before them. Could feel it as clearly as if he were seeing it before him, as if he knew he could stretch out a hand and touch it.
"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Vice," a low voice purred from the shadows. It echoed around them, reverbing around in Jungkook's head until he couldn't remember a time before the words had been spoken. "I've heard much about you."
"I wish I could say the same for you," Jungkook shot back, not bothering to keep the edge from his tone, earning a sharp jab in the ribs from Taehyun's elbow, nearly knocking him to his feet.
"Watch your mouth," the right hand snarled.
Again, the mysterious voice appeared. "Stand down, Viper. He does no one any good dead."
At his side, Jungkoook felt Taehyun retreat, albeit reluctantly.
There was a new voice that appeared to the right of the first one, materializing itself in an exasperated sigh. "Must we really do this every time? The dude has literally spent days here chained to a bed and we still have to act like we don't pay the electricity bill just because you really want to be extra?"
"Oh my god, fine, we can turn the lights on."
As if on cue, the room was flooded with fluorescents, exposing the two voices for who they really were.
On a slightly raised platform, a boy that couldn't be any older than Yeonjun was seated on a high-backed chair that resembled what you would count as a throne of sorts. Beneath the waves of ebony locks that covered his forehead and most of his eyes, the beginnings of a smile tugged at his lips as he allowed his gaze to meet Jungkook's.
To his right stood the tall boy Jungkook had seen when he'd first awoken, Kai. His brown hair was carelessly flopped across his face and an openly annoyed expression rested on his face as he rolled his eyes at the black-haired boy's antics, which faded into an easy smile as his gaze rested on the boys before him.
As if to mirror the lights above them, the boy on the throne's face brightened as he leaned back in his chair, kicking his legs up onto the armrest as if they were casual friends, assessing the elder boss's injuries with as little interest as possible. "I see you've healed quite nicely," he said as monotonously as possible. Abruptly, he turned his attention to the boy at his side, so quickly that Jungkook almost forgot he'd been talking to him at all. "He's gotten a lot better, don't you think, Kai?" he asked, his voice inching up a couple of octaves as he turned to anxiously await an answer.
Jungkook cast a sideways glance at Beomgyu, who only replied in an amused shrug.
Despite having the black-haired boy's unshakable fixation pinned on him, Kai didn't seem too concerned with responding to his boss's question. He seemed much more concerned about the burns he could see poking out from underneath the other boss's shirt, still an angry red despite days of careful treatment by Beomgyu.
"He's the one who saved your life, you know," Beomgyu whispered as he leaned in closer to Jungkook. "If he hadn't voted to help you, I don't think there's any way that the Ghost or Taehyun wouldn't have left you in those flames to die."
From his other side, Taehyun gave him a tight-lipped smile. "Don't think I wouldn't turn back the time and leave you there if I could."
Jungkook wondered how much trouble he would be in if he were to strangle the other boy.
On the platform, Kai offered Jungkook a small smile, ignoring his boss with such a casual offhandedness that made Jungkook wonder just how many times a day he did this. "Your wounds are looking much better," he remarked. "I trust Beomgyu's taken good care of you?"
Yeonjun snickered a little as he pushed his way to the front of their group, crossing the room to settle himself at the foot of the makeshift throne. "Maybe a little bit too much for Taehyun's taste."
The glare Taehyun shot the older boy was murderous.
Yeonjun just simply blew him a taunting kiss in return.
Jungkook glanced between the five boys warily as he surveyed their surroundings as subtly as possible out of the corner of his eye before settling on the black-haired boy. "I must say, I really am flattered by your hospitality. Do you give all of your prisoners such a grand introduction?"
The edge of the Ghost's lips twitched upward. "You're the first." He allowed the twitch to spread into a full smile as he leaned back to cast another glance at Kai. "But anything for my sweet Huening."
Beomgyu stifled a small laugh at the youngest boy's irritated expression.
"And I'd hardly call you a prisoner," the other boss continued, returning his focus to Jungkook. "None of my prisoners have ever received such good care."
"I think Kai would beg to differ," Taehyun threw in with a smirk. Beomgyu snickered.
The brown-haired boy shook his head in barely suppressed amusement as he moved to perch himself on the armrest of the throne, nonchalantly leaning back against his boss, who seemed ready to combust from being so close to him. "Why don't you just continue with your thinly veiled, overly-possessive threats so we can skip to the part of the evening where you have to go on patrol and I don't have to look at your dumb face, huh?"
"I second that," Beomgyu grumbled. Taehyun shot him an annoyed look. Beomgyu only stuck his tongue out at the other boy in return.
Ignoring the pain that raced through his body even at such a small movement, Jungkook forced himself to draw himself up to his full height, locking eyes with the Ghost across the gap. The other boss tipped his head to the side coolly in feigned interest.
"If I'm not your prisoner," Jungkook drawled, allowing a bit of the authoritative voice he reserved for his soldiers to seep into his tone, "then you should have no problem letting me go."
Kai's brows drew together. "You're still healing. You couldn't possibly-"
Jungkook's eyes flashed, as his voice slipped into a snarl. "I am not your prisoner."
He was so tired of people controlling him. Telling him what to do, what to be. Deciding what was best for him without his consent.
All he cared about was his gang and getting back to them. He'd already been gone far too long. Who knows what had happened to them? Every night when he closed his eyes, his mind spun countless scenarios. Jimin rushing into the burning building screaming his name, shielding his eyes from the flames as he coughed on the fumes, stumbling his way forward while pieces of rubble fell all around him. Hoseok caught in between the exit and Jin and Namjoon, a blossom of red spreading across his chest as wisps of smoke trailed from the end of Jin's gun. Yoongi's hands wrapped around Taehyung's neck, cutting off his air supply, as the brunette choked through helpless pleas for Jungkook to save him.
They always disappeared before he could reach them.
An endless loop that played in front of him again and again night after night, day after day.
If he had to kill this boss and his entire gang to get back to them, he wouldn't blink twice.
Twisting to grab the small knife tucked into the waistband of his pants he stole when Beomgyu wasn't paying attention, Jungkook yanked the medic backwards with him, halting the Anarchists' moves to help their friend as he held the edge of the blade to Beomgyu's throat.
The Ghost carefully stood up from his throne, his hands outstretched toward Jungkook as if the action alone would slow time enough for him to cross the room and save the younger boy. "Let's not do anything impulsive," he said, but even he couldn't hold onto his icy indifference any longer.
At his side, Taehyun was dead silent, his eyes never straying from the knife, his hand frozen on the butt of his gun. He didn't even appear to be breathing, as if even that tiny movement would result in Beomgyu coming to harm.
"Let me go and nothing will happen to him," Jungkook said, his eyes darting to meet every other pair in the room. Although a pang of regret went through him as he gripped Beomgyu tighter, he didn't dare let go. He had to find his friends. He had to find Taehyung.
Slowly, the Ghost nodded. "You may go whenever you wish. Release him and you can walk out right now. No one will stop you."
Carefully, Jungkook began to remove his arm from around Beomgyu's neck. The second the hand with the knife fell to his side, Taehyun had lunged forward to pull the brown-haired boy into the safety of his arms and away from the elder boss. Beomgyu let him, peering a bit timidly behind his shoulder at Jungkook, who was slipping the knife back into his pocket.
Just as Jungkook was turning to retreat back through the exit they'd entered, freedom finally clutched tightly in his hands, it fell apart.
There was no time to run, no time to scream, before the blacked-out glass windows of the burst in and a flood of bullets came crashing upon them.
And just like that, Jungkook watched his one glimpse of hope shatter in his hands.