Six years ago.
For the first time in his twenty-one years of living, Yoongi felt truly alive.
For the first time, he didn't feel like it was an effort to drag himself out of bed, didn't feel like he had to spend every waking moment working his ass off just to prove everyone wrong. To prove he mattered.
And for the first time in a long time, he felt almost... happy.
It had been almost one month since he'd been strapped down to that chair as Hendery had taken delight in his pain. The General, who was the leader of the gang he'd come to realize was called the Purgatory, had told him everything once Mark, the boy with the gentle touch, undid Yoongi's bindings.
He told him of how he'd heard of Yoongi and Jungkook's operation and how he'd known immediately that he needed people like that. Someone young, bold, different. Someone who could take the Purgatory to the next level. The second that he'd offered them a spot in his gang, Yoongi had agreed.
It was everything he'd ever wanted. All he'd been racing towards ever since he'd promised himself that he wouldn't be another nameless face, another unimportant boy with daddy issues and an absent mother who never did anything with his life.
Now, he was important. Now, he had a home inside the gang's den, a room which he shared with a group of other boys around his age. Now, he ate freshly cooked meals that the den's resident cook made each day instead of microwave dinners. Now, people smiled at him as they called out his name in greeting in the hallways.
It wasn't enough to fully erase the first few shitty years of his life, but it was the start of a better one.
It was the start of a blossom of hope that he had tentatively begun to cultivate these past few weeks.
He could see it now.
He would rise through the ranks as the General began to see his full potential. He would be tapped to be the next leader and would spend his days training him to be ready. Jungkook would stay by his side as his right hand when he took over the gang, his only true friend in this world, and together, they would run the streets. They would amass such wealth and fame that no one would dare think to touch them again. Jungkook wouldn't have to play into his father's antics anymore and Yoongi could finally prove to his how wrong he was for ever deserting him. They could finally be themselves.
That was the mantra he repeated to himself every night as he watched the gentle rise and fall of Jungkook's chest as he slept in the bed next to him. He knew just how much the younger was putting on the line just by being here. Every second he spent at the den instead of school, instead of his house, was another second he risked his father's finding out. And while the raven-haired boy had never been completely honest with him about his relationship with his father, Yoongi knew that whatever fate awaited him once he discovered just what, exactly, Jungkook had been doing all this time wasn't a very welcoming one.
"What are you thinking about?"
Snapping out of his reverie, Yoongi twisted to watch as a familiar boy crawled up to the perch he'd claimed on a little ledge that overlooked the spacious room set aside for training and weapons practice in the sprawling den. Mark nestled himself comfortably upon the stone slab beside Yoongi as if it were something he did every day, shooting the other boy one of his signature sweet smiles, which Yoongi found himself mirroring before he could process what he was doing.
"Nothing," Yoongi answered, adjusting his position as he looked back over the small clusters of soldiers milling about the space.
Mark gently knocked his shoulder into one of Yoongi's playfully. "Oh come on. You looked a million miles away." The bright smile dimmed only a fraction into a more serious tint as he focused his chocolate stare on Yoongi's. "You can tell me anything, you know."
And at that, Yoongi could feel his heart, which had been so cold for so long, melt a little. It had been so long since someone had cared for him like that, since someone had actively sought to be the one to ease the mess of burdens he called his life. Not even Jungkook, who had long since stopped trying ever since Yoongi had sharply shot down his attempts to ask him about his mom and refused to talk about it ever again. They had an agreement. He didn't ask about his dad, and Jungkook didn't ask him about his mom. That's the way they were.
But, despite the icy glares Yoongi had leveled at Mark every time he tried to approach him, the other boy hadn't taken no for an answer. Instead, every time Yoongi found himself shutting a door between them, Mark somehow found a way to wrestle it open.
It wasn't something Yoongi was familiar with.
He was so used to other people simply leaving once he slammed that door shut that he'd almost forgotten it could even be opened.
The edges of Yoongi's smile disappeared into a frown as he noticed the back of Mark's hand that rested on the stone beneath them.
"What happened?" he asked, reaching out his own hand, gently pulling it closer to assess the backs of the younger's split knuckles.
Mark looked at his hand and simply shrugged. "It's just a result of training." He turned his gaze up to Yoongi's. "The General told me I needed to train harder, so he's been having me put in extra time with Ten."
Yoongi scowled at the mention of the General's right hand. The stormy-faced boy nicknamed Shadow whom he'd met on that first night hadn't managed to leave much of a good impression on him, only placing below Hendery on his list of enemies within the den.
"Why is he having you train with that psychopath?" Yoongi growled, his grip tightening around Mark's hand just at the thought of him having to spend all that time at the mercy of the other boy. There was a reason the assassin had been chosen as the General's right hand, and it wasn't a very warm one. How could he ever allow the sweet boy to be subject to his harsh teachings?
"He's not all that bad," Mark said with a shrug as he readjusted his position. "He does his job." A small half-smile creeped up his face as he twisted his hand in Yoongi's grip to squeeze the older's hand softly before letting go. "But I appreciate you being worried about me."
A faint blush of red bloomed across Yoongi's cheeks at the small action. But before he had the chance to say anything, he was interrupted.
"Are we gossiping up here?" Jungkook asked as he climbed up beside the two older boys, settling himself down with an easy smile. "Because I may or may not have insider info that Lucas has a sock puppet collection that he names after male idols. But you didn't hear that from me."
Mark's smile brightened at the appearance of the younger, turning towards him as if he were a flower and the other boy a sunny personification of what he strove to obtain.
"Did you just come from training?" Mark said, gesturing to the slight sheen of sweat that caused bits of Jungkook's raven hair to cling to his forehead.
The youngest just nodded, turning his attention quickly to the quiet black-haired boy beside him. "Hyung," he said cheerfully, "guess what they had in the kitchens today!"
Yoongi's eyes widened in delighted surprise as the youngest produced a small orange fruit from his pocket. "Tangerines?!"
Jungkook smiled as the other boy took the fruit from him excitedly, already digging his thumbnail into the smooth peel. In the two years he'd known the elder, he rarely ever got to see him like this; unburdened, childish, carefree. Sometimes it was easy to forget he was only twenty one years old.
But it just made Jungkook appreciate those few moments more.
"Do you want one?" Yoongi asked, the corner of his lips pulled up to reveal a hint of a smile, the most he ever let show, as he held out a slice to Mark.
Jungkook's own mouth twisted into a slight frown as Mark accepted the fruit from Yoongi, popping the slice between his teeth. The frown deepened as Yoongi continued to pass the other boy the bits of tangerine as they ate, until Mark had eaten most of the small fruit and Yoongi had only eaten about a third of it.
His gaze slipped over to the black-haired boy, watching the flickers of emotion that crossed his usually impassive face carefully, as if hoping a hint would mysteriously materialize from the minuscule movements and tell him what he should do.
He'd seen Yoongi get his heart shattered again and again from high hopes that never lived up to his unrealistic expectations.
Jungkook couldn't watch him go through any more.
Because, despite all of the elder's insistence that he didn't need anyone's help, despite the wall he placed between himself and the rest of the world, Jungkook wasn't sure how much more he could take before he was broken beyond repair.
• • •
For a moment, all Jungkook could do was stand there, even as bullets rained down around them. Before he was even aware of what he was doing, he found himself on the floor, crouched behind the closest piece of overturned furniture in a feeble attempt to protect himself, the fiery lance of pain in his leg now dulled to a distant throb in the wake of the pure adrenaline coursing through his bloodstream.
As if in a daze, he could see where Yeonjun was huddled behind the throne-like chair, Soobin squeezed in beside him, the black-haired boy's hand clenched tightly around Kai's arm as he tucked the youngest close to his side. He could see where Taehyun had yanked Beomgyu into the doorway of the room, curled around the medic tightly as if he meant to shield the other boy with his body as he pushed them as far into the wall as he could.
Across the room, Jungkook's eyes met Beomgyu's. He hoped all the regret he could feel hammering out an uneven rhythm in his chest was showing in his gaze as they locked eyes.
But he was torn away from the boy's answer by the voice that echoed out over the gunshots.
"Choi Yeonjun! I know you're in there. If you come out and face me instead of hiding like the coward you are, then this can end right now. If not... I don't care how many of your friends I have to kill to get to you."
Jungkook cast a glance over toward the throne, where Yeonjun had turned a shade of yellow almost as startling as his hair, his lips flattened into a thin line as shocked murmurs escaped them. "It can't be- I didn't-"
Kai's sweet face twisted into one of confusion. "Isn't that that boy you were seeing-?"
Yeonjun turned an even sicker color. "About that..." he started nervously, his gaze darting in between the black-haired boy beside him and the floor. "I may or may not have... ya know, sort of may have been ghosting him for the past two weeks because I'm scared to actually end things with him because I'm afraid he may get his right hand to assassinate me in my sleep."
"You fucking idiot!" the Ghost yelled, the anger in his voice not even dimmed by the cacophony of noise. "You're going to get us all killed just because you can't man up and break up with the guy?!"
"He's a boss, Soobin, what am I supposed to do?" Yeonjun shouted back.
"I can think of a number of things you could do," his boss, Soobin, hissed back. "Starting with taking a long walk off of a short pier. You know, I have half a mind to get Taehyun to tie you up like the pig you are and send you out there myself, you fucking asshole, I should just staple your dick to the inside of your leg if that's what it'll take to get you to keep it in your fucking pants-"
Kai, eyes wide, yanked on the black-haired boy's shirt to cut him off at the look on the yellow-haired boy's face, sparing him the rest of the Ghost's wrath. "He obviously didn't mean for it to lead to this, hyung. Can't you just-?"
"Look, we have much bigger problems right now than whatever Yeonjun did to piss off that boss," Jungkook interjected, his dark eyes sharply fastening themselves onto Soobin. The other boss stared back at him unflinchingly.
"'We'?!" Taehyun echoed as he twisted around to face the others, venom dripping from the single word, an effective companion to the pure fury etched across his face that burned Jungkook with just the sheer force of it.
Beomgyu grabbed Taehyun's shirt quickly, holding the other boy back from any movement he might think to try. "Don't," he said softly.
Incredulity rippled across Taehyun's face. "You can't be serious, Beomgyu. He held a knife to your throat! He was going to kill you! Give me one good reason I shouldn't just shoot him right now."
Beomgyu cast a sad look at Jungkook. "He just wants to get back to his friends. How can we blame him for that? Wouldn't you do the same if you were trying to get back to me?"
A muscle feathered in Taehyun's jaw but he remained silent, finally twisting away from the boss across from him.
"All of this empathy and understanding is really touching and shit," Soobin interrupted with a scoff, "but did we all forget that there's currently a gang outside there trying to kill us?"
Kai shot him a look. "Then what do you suggest we do about it, huh? Because so far it's seemed like your only plans of action have been blaming other people and whining like a little baby."
"Well I don't see anyone else with an idea," Soobin retorted.
"I have one." Yeonjun didn't even glance up from the floor. Lifting his head, he met Soobin's gaze impassively. "I go out there."
Beomgyu stared at him in horror. "Hyung, no. That's what he wants! You don't know how many people he has out there or what his plan to do with you is. He could kill you!"
"At least he won't have harmed any of you."
"No," Kai snapped, his voice ringing firm. "We're not letting you go out there. End of discussion."
Yeonjun's nostrils flared in indignation. "But-"
"No."
Jungkook was the first to break the tense silence that had fallen upon the room. "I'll do it."
A dark smirk played on the edges of Taehyun's lips. "Now this I like."
Beomgyu ignored the red-haired boy steadfastly. "Jungkook, don't be ridiculous. You can't even walk."
Jungkook opened his mouth to argue that he was perfectly capable of handling himself, but he never got the chance.
"Looks like your time's just about up, Junie," the same voice as before purred, a snake slipping down Jungkook's spine. He whirled around just in time to see the outline of a figure sliding through the empty window frame, a curtain of excess gunsmoke clinging to him as he picked his way through the graveyard of broken glass.
Yeonjun paled at the sight.
The boy that emerged from the spectral remains of gunpowder flashed him a wicked smile. "I've been looking for you," he started, cocking his head to the side as he took a step closer. A gun dangled in his hand at his side. "I went to our meeting spot but you never came. I went to your den, but you weren't here. I asked your gang members where you were, but they could never seem to tell me. You haven't been hiding from me, have you?"
"Jay, I can explain," Yeonjun said as he slowly got up from the floor, his hands out in front of him as if he meant to prevent any attempts at violence with the simple motion.
Jay's lips were an unforgiving line as he pointed the gun straight at the older boy's chest. "For your sake, I hope you can."
"Maybe this was why he hid from you."
Jay's head snapped in his direction, anger flashing in his eyes as he searched for the owner of the voice. When his eyes finally settled on Jungkook seated on the floor however, it morphed to one of surprise and dark intrigue
"Jeon Jungkook," he breathed, giving the boss a quick once-over. "What an interesting turn of events." Letting the gun fall back to his side, the yellow-haired boy behind him completely forgotten, Jay crept closer, the beginnings of a smirk starting to form on his face. "You're supposed to be dead."
It was a logical assumption for the world to have assumed him dead after disappearing in a fiery inferno, an easy explanation as to why no one had come looking for him, but for some reason the thought of it made him want to throw up.
Taehyung, Jimin, Hoseok...
They all thought-
"I guess Yoongi doesn't know you escaped," Jay continued in that same sickening tone that made Jungkook want to curl into a tight ball and start screaming and never stop. "Otherwise he would have ripped your heart out just to make sure you really never came back. I wonder... What prize do you think he'll bestow upon the person who brings him his undead enemy?"
Jungkook's stomach twisted as the realization of what he meant hit him. "You wouldn't dare," he breathed.
Jay smiled. "Oh, but I would."
Heart pounding an uneven rhythm against his ribcage, Jungkook searched the area around him desperately for something small and sharp enough to be used as a weapon. Something he could use to delay Jay so he could find either a way out or a gun. He didn't even glance in the Anarchists' direction. He knew they wouldn't help him.
He'd been in this position enough to know what came next. Injured, defenseless, alone. There was only way this could ever play out.
And Jay seemed to know it too.
"Maybe he'll reward me by giving me your little pet," Jay said, creeping closer still. "What was his name? Taehyung?"
Jungkook froze.
"He's quite beautiful," the other boy intoned, a dark greed seeming to envelop him. "You know, for a cripple. I wonder how good he'd feel."
"Don't you fucking touch him," Jungkook snarled between clenched teeth.
Jay clicked his tongue in disappointment as he shook his head back and forth. "It doesn't work like that, Jeon. You see, I have a gun and a whole gang of soldiers outside who listen only to me. What do you have? A tattered reputation and a broken leg?"
Turning to look over his shoulder at the soldiers who had invaded the space, silently surrounding the Anarchists in case they tried anything, Jay beckoned over two of his men. "Grab him. We're taking him with us." Over his shoulder, he flashed Jungkook a sly smile. "And this time, you won't live to tell the tale."
• • •
Extra long chapter to celebrate the end of spooky season :)