Unsurprisingly Jimin found that his legs weren't at all steady, which made it a blessing that Taehyung was holding onto his arms tightly to keep him standing upright. Without his support he would have likely been on the floor right now, his knees having unhinged and spilled him onto the hard marble flooring in a mess of limbs. That would have hurt a lot, might just have knocked him out which might have been somewhat comforting right now. But his hands were tight around his elbows like vices and so he didn't need to worry about falling. The palms of his hands were rather cold on his skin, cold from the outside weather, but also maybe cold from something else. Something like a fear strong enough to turn his blood to ice in his veins.

Taehyung's face was currently blank of expression, eyes wide and lips rather slack. His usual tanned skin had paled considerably and he was just staring at him. His gaze seemed to go right through him, not really looking at him at all. Jimin wondered if he looked like that too, all pale and dumbfounded like the other man. After a minute of silence he managed to move his lips and speak, voice coming out in a rather harsh croak.

"What'd you mean "Jeon's dead"?"

"He's dead, Tae, he was murdered in a shooting in Mapo-gu. It was on the news, all over the news, he's dead, Tae, he's-" Jimin moaned and his legs wobbled, causing him to slump forward so that his head knocked against his chest. He felt lightheaded again like he had back in the den except at least his chest wasn't hurting right now. The other man didn't even shift from the impact, meaning that he could slump forward against him. Strangely enough Taehyung didn't feel that different supporting him in comparison to Yoongi, even with the obvious height and weight differences. He briefly wondered what it would feel like to have Jungkook hold onto him like this before the other man shifted slightly and the thought was roughly pushed out of his mind.

"C'mon, sit down before you collapse," Taehyung muttered as he sat down on the chaise lounge. He dragged him down with him, pulled him onto his lap rather forcibly. Jimin didn't mind at all for it wasn't like standing was really an option. He felt his jeans brushing against his suit trousers with a series of soft rustling noises and he settled down onto his lap, arms tight around his neck so that he could burrow against his chest. "Jesus-fucking-Christ," Taehyung breathed out, words aimed at no one in particular but rather just spoken aloud to break the horrible silence.

Taehyung wasn't exactly Jungkook but he was more than enough. The warmth of his body and his touch made him feel so much more secure because Jimin knew that he was in safe hands. When he closed his eyes and tightened his arms around his neck he found that the mental image of Jeon's Ssangyong was no longer present, rather just the comforting sensation of his breath on the top of his head. All thoughts about death and misery just simply escaped his mind and that was a blessing.

Jimin wasn't entirely sure how long that they stayed seated on the chaise lounge in silence, just that it must have been a couple of hours for the sky outside of the window started to change: the blue turning a series of pinks and purples at the horizon. Taehyung's clothing had a strange mixture of scents coming from it: the pungent and rather unpleasant stink of gasoline underneath that of smoke. The scent of it made Jimin's nose itch and he wondered why exactly he smelled such a way before deciding that he didn't want to know. It would have been something bad, that much he knew. Taehyung wouldn't smell like a bonfire unless he had built one and Jimin knew exactly what would be thrown on it. The answer was not most certainly not chunks of wood. He felt like he could spend the rest of the evening just sitting on his lap like this, legs folded up on the remaining length of the cushion and Taehyung's hand on his lower back: warm and supportive. But eventually the other man shifted under him, more or less trying to get him to get off his lap. But Jimin didn't want to, he wanted to stay in place instead and so he just moved to lift his head off his chest, arms wrapped around his neck so that he could look into his eyes.

"What happened?" Jimin asked in a quiet voice. "Something must have happened today before...before what happened, so tell me what."

"We killed Lee, Lee Yoochun," Taehyung explained quietly, one hand still on his lower back so that he could gently rub soft circles into his skin under his pullover. "He had nothing, Jack shit. We're right back at the beginning and we've got nothing else to go on." Jimin listened to him talk intently, eyes not leaving his face once as he did. Taehyung's skin still looked rather pale and he was certain that a light sheen of sweat was starting to break out on his brow. "How am I supposed to sort this fucking mess out, huh?"

"Tae...Tae, this isn't a mess that you're supposed to clean up," Jimin replied with a soft head shake. "How could you? No man could clean this shit up, it's...it's groundbreaking. World-changing." Yet he could see on his face that Taehyung wasn't really listening to what he was saying. There was a sort of restless air coming off him. "Even Kookie will struggle to sort this out because no one was prepared for this to happen."

"Y'know, Jungkook keeps calling us Gods," Taehyung said in a soft voice. "As if we're fucking untouchable."

Jimin thought this over for a moment, studying his face as he did. The idea of Jungkook voicing such lofty words was not at all unexpected, especially not this particular claim. Until recently Jungkook really must have felt like a God, untouchable and immortal, but this recent spiral of events must have really woken him up from his delusions of grandeur. Was Taehyung also thinking of such a thing, or was he also starting to feel like he was waking up too? It wasn't hard to believe that Taehyung might have found himself believing it too, thinking himself immortal until he had taken a bullet in the shoulder. He could sense that the other man wanted to get up off the chaise lounge, and so he regretfully had to move off his lap and sit on the cushion instead.

"I'm...I'm gonna go see Seokjin," Taehyung said as he got to his feet. There was an erratic feeling coming from him, the way that he looked around the room without his eyes settling on anything in particular. "I need info, I need to speak to him."

"About what?" Jimin asked in confusion.

"About Kim-fucking-Jinwoo, that's what," Taehyung explained in a rather brusque tone. Jimin could see that his hands were shaking at his side. "A while ago I asked him about Kim and he told me to avoid looking into that shit to keep my ass safe. But right now my ass really doesn't matter, not after everything. Jungkook's ass is much more important."

"...OK, but be careful," Jimin said in a soft voice as he looked up at him. He felt the most pressing urge to play with his pullover cuffs and before he could stop himself he did. The soft material stretched between his fingers much too easily and would likely get ruined if he didn't stop. "Don't get hurt again, Tae, please. I couldn't bear the thought of you getting hurt again."

"Don't worry about me, yeah?" Taehyung said as he reached down and placed his hand on the top of his head. His shaking fingers ruffled his hair, tangling softly in the lengths and Jimin gnawed down on his lower lip at the contact. "I'm a God, remember?" He gave him a wry smile as he pulled his hand away, crossing the suite to leave him alone again.

Jimin didn't really want to do anything, just wanted to sit and stare out of the window rather than move. The sight outside consisted of high-rise apartments from his current height, the occasional sight of a radio tower breaking it all up, and if he were to stand up and go over to the wall of glass he would be able to turn his head and see the distant sight of Han River bridge. It was already the late evening judging from the sky and yet there had been no contact from Jungkook yet. Both he and Taehyung had waited and yet there hadn't been a single call or even a message to let them know where he was, what he was doing. The champagne cabinet in the kitchen was calling to him but he wanted to ignore it, wanted to not give into the overwhelming temptation to open one of the bottles and get drunk right now. Jimin needed to be sober for once in his life, even when he felt anxious and the thought of being left alone for too long was sheer torture. He ended up getting off the bed and wandering across the suite to go up the stairs. He didn't know why he ended up in the office room but he just did.

Jimin scanned the open files on Jungkook's desk with very little interest, recognising a few faces here and there but nothing to help Taehyung with. The computer was turned off and he could see a mostly empty bottle of Adderall not far from the mouse, Jungkook's usual poison of choice when he needed to work well into the morning hours. The top drawer was open just a crack and so he gently pulled it out to look inside. There were more files inside, all neatly sorted out with dividers. The scent of paper coming from the drawer was powerful and so he pushed it shut and tried the second. Inside that there were the hard-drives of course, the back-up ones containing everything that Jungkook possessed in terms of knowledge and information. The last drawer was so low that he had to hunker down and pull it open. There was nothing inside it beyond several filled magazines. Jimin picked one up to look at it, feeling a terrible wave of revulsion that made him put it back inside and push the drawer shut again.

Jimin didn't know what he was doing, what he was looking for exactly. Was he even looking for anything or was he just trying to distract himself from his terrified and anxious thoughts? The latter seemed more likely to him. He sat down in the desk chair, eyeing the file and sinking down into it. He could smell the faintest hints of Jungkook's cologne on the leather, almost like there was a ghost in the office with him. Jimin reached up to bury his face in his hands for a moment, taking several slow breaths through his mouth.

It seemed like just yesterday that he had told Yoongi about how scared he had been because of everything. The sudden changes, the danger. Here he was once again, numb from shock and unable to shed a single tear even when he was terrified. Jimin felt like he wasn't even awake right now, like he was deeply asleep and trapped in a strange waking dream that he would hopefully wake up from. Or maybe it was closer to a nightmare. Was this what Taehyung felt after a nice big dose of morphine? It was a sensation that he found that he hated.

Jimin ended up leaving the office and going down to the ground-floor. The TV beckoned to him and so he switched it on and sat down on the leather settee beside Wangbi. The main focus was the shooting of course, the one that had killed Jeon. According to the reports coming out and being updated every few minutes there had been a drive-by shooting at an intersection, a shooting that had resulted in several crashes and massive grid-lock all over the region. So far the death toll was nearing twenty people, most of whom were killed in the multiple crashes or were hit by flying bullets from the other vehicle, and the injuries were seventy-one in total.

Jeon's Ssangyong had been riddled by so many bullets that it looked like a colander. The photographs all over the TV screen showed a ruined chunk of metal, the back crushed from where another vehicle had collided with it. The windows had been completely destroyed, not even the slightest shards left in the frames, and the doors were punctured with perhaps a hundred bullet holes or more. The tarmac around the car was covered in broken glass, empty gun casings that gleamed in the sunlight and puddles of spreading gasoline from the damage to the body. Jimin thought that it was a miracle that the vehicle hadn't exploded like a fucking bomb and wiped out a nice amount of the street just to make the incident that much more destructive.

All of those bullets...all of that hatred and anger. He didn't even want to imagine what Jeon and his driver must have looked like being pulled free from the wreckage by the ambulance crew. He didn't want to imagine the absolute agony and horror but he supposed that Jeon might have gotten lucky and took a shot to the head first. At least it would have been over instantly for him. Despite the chaos there was something clinical and cold about the images on the screen, free from emotion: the after-effects of warfare.

It was terrifying looking at the sheer chaos on the TV screen. In all his time working under Haedogje Pa Jimin had seen death, had seen trouble, but this was something different. The casino shootout had just been the start and it seemed that this new wave of violence and terror was going to be a constant occurrence from now on. Under Jeon it had been nothing like this but now...now under Jungkook it was going to be hell. So many men were going to be slaughtered, Haedogje Pa men and innocent bystanders; so much chaos was going to erupt. This really was bordering on something that Jimin thought classified as a war and he was somehow tangled up right in the middle of it all; no way out.

This was what happened when an empire started to fall.

Jimin couldn't believe that once again something like this had happened when he had been in the den with Yoongi. It was almost as if his meetings with the other man were cursed, that something bad would happen if he went to see him. It made him feel strangely guilty even when he had done nothing wrong. Why couldn't he ever have something nice without something else ruining it?

"Maybe I'm the cursed one...?" he muttered as he shifted to lie down on the settee, using Wangbi as a pillow. The cat was so soft and warm and he felt like he could just drift off to sleep but he couldn't. His mind was far too unsettled to do anything like sleep. Not when Taehyung had been out for three hours now and he hadn't seen Jungkook in nearly thirteen. "Maybe I'm fucking cursed?"

He probably should have turned the TV off and tried to rest and yet he didn't want to. It had already been playing for three hours now and yet Jimin found that he just wanted to carry on watching the screen, curled up tightly in a ball. He switched to several channels to watch it all: KBS, SBS, MBC, and they all showed the exact same footage. Between the coverage of the shooting the stations covered smaller issues like the American presidential candidates that he didn't give a single fuck about. But it always looped back to the coverage of the shooting and he found that he noticed something new every single time that he watched it: like patches of blood visible on one of the sidewalks on the long-panned shots, like how the front window had been censored on certain angles to stop viewers from seeing too much. Not that it really mattered for the sight of the destroyed car was enough on its own. Thousands of people were tuning in to watch this, hundreds of thousands in fact. They would all be watching the most important news event of the decade and yet most of them wouldn't even have a clue. Jimin stared at the screen until he was certain that the image of the fucking car would be burnt onto the backs of his eyelids and would haunt his sleep for the rest of his life.

Jimin had just started drifting off when the door across the suite swung open suddenly and without warning and he almost jumped in surprise. He lifted his head to look over the suite and the sight he saw was Jungkook pushing the door open to step inside, hitting the light switch as he did. The sight of the younger man was just as surprising as the door opening, for Jimin had not been expecting him to return for quite some time. Yet here he was, showing up unannounced. Jimin was a little glad about this fact because he had been wanting to see him for what felt like forever now.

Jimin wanted to know that he was okay, that he was handling the situation well. As soon as he knew how he was he was certain that he could relax again.

"Where's Taehyung?" Jungkook asked as he shifted his eyes to look over the suite. There was something coming off him, something that Jimin couldn't quite figure out because he had never felt such waves coming off him before. It wasn't anger, wasn't even close, but it was something that radiated off him in a noticeable manner. It was the way in which Jungkook pulled on his collar, the tie already undone and hanging around his neck.

"He went out, darling. I think he went to Seokjin to collect anything he could about Kim Jinwoo," Jimin explained as he studied him. "Tae said that he didn't know anything about him, it seems like a good time to learn."

"There's nothing that he needs to know about him other than the fact he's a fucking cunt ," Jungkook spat at him and that was when it hit him what was going on.

Jungkook was drunk. Not slightly tipsy, not the usual mellowed out but functional level that he usually got to before stopping. Jungkook was so drunk that he was bordering on shitfaced and the sight of him standing there, leaning back against the door to support his unsteady legs, caused a rather dull ache in Jimin's chest. It was almost a pang that made him reach up to rub at the front of his pullover.

"Darling, are you alright?" Jimin asked in a soft voice as he shifted into a sitting position. He heard the younger man scoffing at the question, a drunken and rather irritating noise but he decided to ignore it. Perhaps the question had been rather stupid after all. It was apparent on first glance that Jungkook wasn't doing well at all. He looked ruined, completely devastated. "I've been waiting for you to come back home, I've been worried sick."

"I'm sorry," he replied in a soft voice as he reached up to rub at his no doubt aching head. "I'm sorry for making you worry, again." Jimin told him that he didn't need to apologise, entirely genuine. For a few seconds he just stayed that way, hands on his head and fingers lightly massaging at his scalp. Then he dropped his hands back to his side with a heavy sigh. "I needed to get away," Jungkook explained as he moved to go over to the kitchen. Jimin saw the way that he leaned against the counter, discreetly hiding the fact that he needed to do so for support. "I just needed to...to fucking get away, babe. But I can't. There's no way of getting away from all of this."

"From Haedogje Pa?" Jimin asked in a soft voice, brow furrowing in confusion.

"From life," Jungkook replied, voice as equally low. Almost a whisper in fact.

Jimin thought about that day, back when Taehyung had been brought back to this very suite after he had been shot; of how Yoongi had helped him with the injured man and they had talked for awhile. He could recall thinking of something: of how neither he nor Yoongi had willingly joined Haedogje Pa, and on the trail of that thought he had also included Jungkook. Poor Jungkook, born into a world as brutal and unloving at this one, never even given a choice to pick his own destiny. It had all been set out for him in stone, and Jimin often forgot about this fact. It was so very easy for the world to look at Jungkook and see a monster: a disgusting, sadistic monster. But hadn't he been made that way?

Hadn't Jungkook quite simply learnt from a young age that he could die at any second and so he had adapted? Wasn't all of his behaviour just hardwired instinct coupled with fear and crippling frustration? Looking at him right now, slumped over the kitchen counter in a drunken state, Jimin saw a man not yet grown. He saw a fucking child and that caused a strange surge of emotions in the pit of his stomach. Jimin hated how weak it made him feel, how his breath hitched in his throat as he looked at him.

"Well you're home now, darling," Jimin said to break the momentary silence. "You're home and you're safe, and I'm here for you. The bed is so empty and cold without you or Tae in it. Come over and lie with me, hmmm? We can just lie in bed all day long and-"

Jungkook moved across the suite and caught him by surprise so Jimin stopped talking. He watched the younger man shifting to go over to the large storage unit that held the champagne. It was stored underneath the counter, hidden from view, and he heard the door being pulled open as he collected something from it. Jimin almost felt that sudden blast of refrigerated air hitting him in the face just hearing the sound; so terribly familiar to his ears it was almost depressing. When Jungkook stood back upright he saw that he was holding a bottle in hand, a different one to the usual. It was Moët & Chandon Rose Grand Vintage, the large green bottle with the pink and black ribbon pattern along the neck, and he placed it down before retrieving the bottle opener from its usual handy place beside the knife rack.

Jungkook popped the cork out with a sharp twist of his wrist, foam spilling out all over the counter. Jimin stared at him in dumb confusion as he filled up one of the empty flutes that he had left out earlier, filled it right up to the brim so that the bubbling golden liquid sloshed free when he lifted it up. As he attempted to down the entire thing Jimin climbed off the settee to cross the suite and go to the kitchen area.

"Kookie, you've had a little too much already," he said in an attempt at getting him to stop. Jungkook just quaffed the entire glass whilst looking right at him, Adam's Apple bobbing vigorously as he tried to drink it as fast as he could. "You're going to be sick, you'll make yourself sick, darling."

"I'm already fucking sick," the younger man said as he put the glass down and grabbed the bottle to fill it up again. As Jimin reached the counter he finished topping the flute up and picked it up again.

"Kookie, darling, come on," Jimin said as he took hold of his wrist gently. "Let's go over to the bed, yes, we can just lie down and-"

Jungkook wrenched his hand free hard and Jimin almost stumbled in surprise. His lower ribs hit the counter and he felt a brief flare of pain before he managed to recover and grab hold of the side. The younger man tossed the champagne flute hard and Jimin managed to track it all the way across the room. It hit the low table by the entertainment suite and shattered with a crisp sound, shards of glass and champagne flying outward in an explosion. Wangbi had been curled up on the settee but at this she almost jolted straight up into the air in surprise. Some of the liquid landed on her coat and she dived off the settee to dart across the suite and hide under the bed.

"Kookie!" Jimin cried out in absolute shock and as he turned his head back he saw the younger man grabbing hold of the champagne bottle too, fingers tight around the neck. "Kookie no, don't-"

"I fucking hate him, Jimin, he-"

"Put that down, put it down!"

"and I did this! I goaded him on because I killed Jintae and-"

"Jungkook!"

Jimin dived over to the counter to try and stop him, to try and pull the champagne bottle out of his hand. His fingers almost grabbed onto it but the coldness had caused beads of condensation to settle on it. As a result his fingers slipped right off the body of the bottle, palms wet. Jungkook twisted away from him, upending the bottle so that quite a lot of it sloshed free and went all over the counter: all of that precious and expensive champagne wasted.

"and it's all my fault he's fucking dead!" Jungkook shouted as he threw his arm back and smashed the mostly empty bottle down onto the counter.

Jimin recoiled, throwing his arms up instinctively as the glass shattered and flew in all directions just like the flute. The body of the bottle might have been thick green glass but it broke with ease from the force of the impact. The sound it made when it connected wasn't just that of shattering glass but also a hideous thumping sound as it had hit the hard counter. The glass came apart in a mixture of large chunks and tiny slivers and shards; the former landing in the champagne on the wood and latter flying through the air like shrapnel. Jimin felt a few slivers hitting his forearms but none of them cut his flesh, just simply grazed it. He saw a few pieces hit Jungkook too, his arms and chest which were protected by his shirt. Jimin lowered his arms and he stared at the younger man dumbly for a moment before dropping his eyes to his hand.

The broken neck clasped tightly in his fingers had also broken into pieces upon impact, the sharp edges cutting his hand to ribbons. Jungkook unclenched his fingers and the shards dropped to land on the counter with the rest of the champagne and chunks of glass, finally free from his grip. Jimin watched blood steadily dripping down from his hand to land in the liquid, changing it from golden in colour to a rather murky pink. Shit, the wound on his palm was deep and pouring blood and he could only stare at the sight because he was paralysed, stuck in place from fear.

"It's all my fault."

Jungkook reached up to tangle his fingers in his hair, pulling on the dishevelled black lengths and smearing blood all over the side of his head in the process. Jimin could see a smear on his cheek and ear and yet he lacked the ability to move and pull his hands away. Instead he just let him carry on wiping gore from his hand all over himself. The way that Jungkook was pulling on his hair reminded him of how the boys and girls he had been lodged with in the past had done so; the ones that had pulled on their hair as they had rocked back and forth; that had sucked their thumbs or had quite simply stared at the wall whilst drooling all down their chins. The behaviour was something that he had long learnt to associate with depersonalisation and the fact that Jungkook was doing it unsettled him greatly. He was even rocking on his heels and making the most strangest keening noises between his tightly clenched teeth. Jimin actually found it hard to breathe watching him and he had to bite down on his lower lip just to stop himself from making any noises too.

"Duh...daddy's dead, Jimin," Jungkook said in the most broken way, voice reedy and breathless. "He's duh-duh-"

Jimin had never seen Jungkook cry before. Over the near six months that he had spent by his side he had seen a great many emotions. He had seen the younger man smiling and laughing at a mixture of things; sometimes sweet and innocent and other times cruel and sadistic. He had seen him reach levels of anger that he had never seen another human reach before. Mostly Jimin had seen Jungkook experience intense pleasure in his company. The kind that made his eyelids flutter and lips quiver, entire body shivering against his. Jimin knew him intimately, better than he knew anyone else including himself and yet he had never seen him cry. At one point in time such a human emotion might have seemed below him, impossible for Jungkook to feel. But Jimin had now discovered that Jungkook could indeed feel such things and he could cry too.

Those horrible keening noises escaped from Jungkook's mouth and they reached a loud volume before he started sobbing. Jimin was almost glad of it because anything was better than listening to those noises for another second. Jungkook scrunched his face up as his fingers snagged hold of his hair tightly, entire body clenching from the force of his sobbing. But even with his scrunched up face, tears still leaked free and rolled down his cheeks to drip down onto the counter, mixing with the champagne and blood.

Jimin looked at him, looked at Jungkook sobbing like a child, and something in him seemed to just kick into action. Something that he had never felt before. Jimin went around the counter and he reached up to grab hold of his wrists, pulling them away from his head. Jungkook just carried on wailing as he pulled him across the suite, head thrown back and shoulders still shaking. Jimin sat down on the bed and he pulled him down with him, forcing him to sit down before his legs collapsed on him. The sudden shift in positions caused the younger man to throw his arms around his ribs and drag him forcibly into an embrace. Jungkook's fingers snagged hold of the soft wool of his pullover, wrinkling it and covering it in blood. The sheer desperation was overwhelming and Jimin could barely breathe because of the way his arms were squeezing around his chest. He felt like he was trapped in a vice, a crushing vice. Yet even when he couldn't really breathe he didn't even care.

Jungkook needed him right now, needed his touch and his words and Jimin had never felt such an overwhelming paternal instinct before.

Jimin pulled him down onto the bed gently and the mound of pillows broke their fall. He managed to wrap his arms around Jungkook's neck to hug his head against his chest, securing the embrace as he did. Jimin's chin brushed against the crown of his head and he detected various scents: the stink of whiskey, the tang of sweat clumped in his hair and the coppery hints of blood under the two. Jungkook let go of him with his injured hand to hold it against his chest. There would be blood all over the shirt and he would probably have to get rid of it.

"I'muh-m crying like a fuh-fucking baby," he moaned as he burrowed against him, trying to hide his face from view in a mixture of shame and embarrassment.

"It's OK, it's OK to cry, darling," Jimin cooed as he pressed his cheek against his hair, felt the tackiness against his skin.

"Muh-men aren't suh-supposed to cry," Jungkook half-hiccuped, half-whined against his chest. He felt the wetness of his tears dampening the wool and his hot breath on his skin. His words were at a complete difference to reality however for he was still loudly sobbing, the sound not at all muted even though he was trying so hard to control himself. Well, he wasn't exactly a man. More like a boy. Jimin thought that that meant he could cry as much as he wanted, after all he had just had his father brutally murdered less than a day ago.

Jungkook deserved to fucking cry.

"After what happened, Kookie, you have every right to cry," he argued as he loosened one of his arms from around his neck to start stroking at the back of his head. "What happened to you, to your mother, anyone would cry. There's nothing wrong with crying, trust me."

"My muh-men wuh-"

"Fuck your men," he spoke over him. "Your men piss themselves when you start shouting at them. They have no right to judge you, not now not ever. Yes?" Jungkook hiccuped loudly and didn't reply. "When was the last time that you cried, darling?" Jimin asked as he carried on stroking his hair gently, fingers not snagging once but rather smoothing it down.

"I was...wuh-was nine, I think?" Jungkook said as he took a quick intake of breath. "I had a dog, I cuh-called him King because I thought it wuh-was a cool name. He died oh-of cancer, he wasn't even old but he duh-died and I got upset and started crying and..." He paused to let out a soft moan. "Mommy slapped me and tuh-told me that I should never ever cry in front of daddy or he wuh-would get mad."

That was what started him off again, made him start sobbing like a child against his chest. Jimin stared across the suite, the very top of his black hair visible at the very edges of his vision. Nine years old? The last time that Jungkook had cried had been back when he had still been a child? He had met Jungkook's mother once, completely unintentionally. She had just showed up at the penthouse to visit her son and had caught him out. The woman had looked pleasant enough, he had supposed back then: the kind of beautiful that was almost severe and strangely threatening, but now he wasn't entirely certain. The kind of mother that slapped a child for crying was not the kind of mother that he would call pleasant. Did it matter that she had done so to try and stop Jungkook from angering his father? Not really, Jimin didn't think that that excused the action at all.

Nine years old and being told to not cry. Back when Jimin had been nine years old he had been told by Nam to cry specifically, to use it to ensure that clients behaved. Yet Jimin had learnt that sometimes crying had made it even worse so he had stopped doing it and had learnt to just...stop feeling things completely. Had Jungkook tried to do that too? Had he tried to stop feeling things for fear of something worse happening?

"It's OK, it's OK," Jimin said as he nuzzled against his hair again. "You can cry, I won't hit you. I promise I won't."

It took several minutes for Jungkook to manage to catch his breath again, wheezing and hiccuping as his fingers carried on stroking his hair. Jimin could feel just how much bigger Jungkook was, in height and frame. It was strange that he was the one enveloping him when it should have been the other way around. Jimin could feel his feet against Jungkook's shins and so he moved to entangle their legs. Satisfied that he was that much closer to him Jimin lifted his head off of the pillows and he moved to look at his face instead. Jungkook tried to turn his head away, tried to press it against the pillows so that he wouldn't see his eyelids, pink and puffy from tears, or his running nose. But after a moment he stopped trying and just avoided his gaze.

"Let me see mmm, darling?" Jimin suggested in a soothing tone as he pulled Jungkook's hand free and held it up to study. The palm of his hand had a deep slash in the flesh and quite a lot of his fingers were covered in little nicks. The bottle had really cut him up and the wounds were going to require cleaning and covering. Looking at them caused another panging sensation in his chest. "Look what you did, I'll have to kiss it better," he remarked as he pressed the backs of his finger against his lips, kissing his tattooed knuckles softly. "That's the only pure way to stop pain. Forget about Vicodin, hmm, it's kisses."

"Kuh-kisses don't make anything better, Jimin," Jungkook said in a breathless voice. "I'm eighteen not eh-eight."

Jimin stopped pressing his lips against his fingers and instead shifted on the bed so that he could lean forward and press his lips against his brow. He delivered a soft kiss right between his eyebrows and then moved downward, pressing little pecks along the length of his nose and then across to his cheek. Jimin could feel the wetness of his tears against his lips and he tasted a saltiness on his lips. Jungkook's skin was so warm, much too warm because he had worked himself up into a rather hysterical state. So he kissed away the lingering wetness of his tears and then finally moved down to his lips.

"Doesn't that feel better, doesn't it feel nice?" Jimin asked as he pressed another delicate kiss against the corner of Jungkook's mouth.

"...Yuh-yes," he hiccuped in reply. "It feels buh-better, babe."

"Kisses are so much better," Jimin mumbled against his lips. "They're the perfect medicine." He pressed his mouth against his to give him a chaste kiss and then pulled his head away again, dropping it on the mound of pillows. "All good, no bad."

"But they're very ah-addictive," Jungkook said in a quiet voice as he finally looked him in the eyes again. Jimin offered him a soft smile, reaching back up to stroke his hair again. "I just keep wanting more."

Jimin played with his hair and waited for the last few tears to dry up, the occasional one slipping free when he blinked. His breathing was still uneven but he was at least starting to get himself under control and after several minutes Jungkook sniffed and wiped up with his uninjured hand to rub at his eyes.

"Give me a...a Valium," Jungkook said in a soft voice. "I want to be numb, I don't want to feel this."

Jimin thought that it wasn't wise giving him anything after the amount of alcohol that he had consumed but it was rather pointless arguing with him over the matter. Jungkook wanted to be numb and clearly the alcohol had not been enough. Withdrawing him the option seemed rather cruel and so he decided to give him one. Jimin shifted to pull the top drawer of the side dresser open and he rooted around inside until his fingers found the familiar shape of the pill bottle. So he pulled it free and unscrewed the cap to shake a single pill onto his palm. Then he handed it to him before screwing the lid back on tight. Jungkook swallowed the Valium hard and closed his eyes, tongue moving around his dry mouth for a few seconds.

"Better?"

"I will be soon," Jungkook replied in a quiet voice as he opened his eyes again.

"Let's just get cleaned up and lie in bed, mmm?" Jimin suggested as he slowly helped Jungkook up into a sitting position. For a few seconds he was convinced that Jungkook would just slump back onto the mattress and refuse to move, even when he was coated in blood and sweat. But he relented and allowed him to once again pull him across the suite in the direction of the bathroom. As the tub filled up with scorching hot water Jimin turned his attention back to Jungkook and he helped him get undressed. The front of his shirt was covered in blood and quite simply ruined, he doubted that the stains would ever wash out. So Jimin just dropped it on the floor without a care, moving down to his trousers. "You just need to rest, to recover your strength. Tae will be back soon, he'll have information, he'll find a way to help you fix this. Yes?"

"...OK," Jungkook said in a voice barely above a whisper.

"He'll be your right hand man, just like always."

Jimin ended up in the tub upon Jungkook's insistence. He had been aiming to just help him clean up yet Jungkook had grabbed hold of his wrist and he had given him little choice. So he shrugged his clothes off and let them puddle on the floor with the rest of the clothing. First he cleaned his skin, lathering a milky coconut wash until they were both covered in foam, and then he moved onto his hair. The bath water slowly started to get tinged red from his bleeding hand and bloody hair and Jimin just continued rinsing the suds away. Jungkook didn't move and left him to do so, eyes closed and breathing soft but audible for he would hiccup every now and again from his earlier crying. It was strange washing him like this, like he had had to help Taehyung clean up after he had been shot. Jimin wondered if this would become a regular occurrence from now on, him cleaning the two men up like a mother. As soon as he was finished he helped Jungkook out of the tub, lightly patting his skin dry and then roughly rubbing at his hair until the ends stuck up in messy spikes. The sight made him start laughing under his breath and Jungkook reached up to try and flatten it.

Jimin guided him back over to the bed and then he located the kit that Yoongi had given him where it always was, but of course it was of no surprise to him that the case was missing, the one with the empty bottle of morphine in. He eyed the contents for a few seconds before sighing and reaching inside to get what he needed. He grabbed the bandage roll and a single dressing, the bottle of antiseptic and the batten pads, and then he crossed the suite to get back onto the bed beside Jungkook.

"It doesn't look so bad now that it's nice and clean," Jimin said as he moved his hand onto his lap. The wound was still rather ugly to look at, a deep slash in his soft skin, but it wasn't bleeding and he thought that he wouldn't need stitches at least. He started wiping around the wound carefully, a little scared that he might cause him some pain. When he wiped the pad over the little cuts in his fingers Jungkook hissed under his breath but didn't pull his hand away. "It probably won't even scar."

Jimin had to cut the dressing with scissors to fit it onto his palm, turning it this way and that before sticking it in place. Then he grabbed the now unneeded roll of bandage and started wrapping it around his hand. Jungkook was still and silent as he watched him work, barely even blinking. Jimin made sure to straighten his fingers out and cover those little cuts too, just for the sake of it, and after getting the bandage secure with the safety pin he leaned forward and delivered another kiss on his palm. Jimin was certain that he saw the corners of his lips twitch at this, even if just for a second.

"Now it's rest time," he declared as he shifted to lie back on the mattress. Jungkook was still sitting up and so he reached up and gently pulled him down down too. Jimin placed his head on his bare stomach and he cupped his cheeks with his hands for a moment, feeling his damp hair against his palms. Then he started lightly massaging at his temples, rubbing the most softest concentric circles into his skin with his thumbs. Jungkook let out a breathy sigh at the contact and he kept his eyes closed rather than open them.

"Jimin?"

"Yes, darling?"

"I...I knew a day would come when daddy would die but I just never-" he took a quick breath and let it out in a heavy sigh. "I didn't think that it would be so soon, so fast. I thought that he would get old first and then...then it would happen." Jimin didn't reply and instead just stared up at the ceiling mirror, fingers against his temples. "Jimin, I just keep thinking about...about what would happen if I lost you too," Jungkook said in the most softest whisper. "What the fuck would I do?"

"You would have Tae," Jimin remarked as he carried on massaging his head. "You wouldn't be alone, you would have him."

"It's not the same, I want both of you - I need both of you," Jungkook said in a petulant fashion. But he didn't sound spoilt however, rather just tired and upset. "I've got no one else, nothing else. I've inherited this fucking empire but it's nothing, especially when none of my men will follow me."

"You got rid of the traitors didn't you, darling?" Jimin asked as he lifted his head to look down at him. He could only study the top of his head rather than hold his gaze. The younger man made a noise under his breath and then he told him that there was always another man just waiting to betray him no matter what. "Then Tae will just have to be there to get rid of them all, like the others yes?" Jungkook moved so that he could lie beside him, bare skin rubbing against the sheets and his skin. Jimin felt his arm going over his waist to pull him close and then his chin was settling in the crook between his neck and shoulder, breath warm on his throat.

"You won't leave me like daddy did, will you?" Jungkook asked in the softest voice. Even when he was drifting off into sleep Jimin heard his words, heard the faintest hints of desperation that laced them.

"No, darling, of course I wouldn't," Jimin managed to reply through his numb lips. His eyelids were too heavy to open and so he didn't even try and do so. "I'll never leave you. Why would I leave you, hmm?"

"Because everyone does," he replied in the most flattest tone Jimin had ever heard. "After a while everyone leaves me or betrays me."

"Mmm, not me." Jimin reached up with one arm and after a few seconds of fumbling he felt his fingers rubbing along with cheekbone. "I won't do that because I...I love you."

"Jimin?"

He forced himself to open his eyes, turning his head to look at Jungkook. He was much too tired to hold a proper conversation with him but clearly the other man wanted to speak. Even when his vision was fuzzy at the corners, blurring into a mess so that he couldn't really see his face, Jimin tried to hold his gaze as he made a soft noise to let him know that he was listening.

"Are you...are you happy right now?" Jungkook asked him in a quiet voice. "Do I make you happy?"

"...Of course," Jimin replied as he pulled his hand away from his cheek and rubbed at his own eyes roughly to try and force them open. "Of course you do, Kookie. Why would you think that you don't?" Jungkook didn't reply and instead just pressed his face against his throat a little more. Was this just because he was drunk? Jimin really didn't know but he also didn't know how to explain things to the other man.

He was happy, he supposed. In a way. But Jimin really didn't have much experience with the concept of 'happiness' and so it wasn't really something that he could define. There was material happiness, which he had in abundance, and he was certain of that. What other forms of happiness was there? Jimin supposed that love was a form of happiness and he thought that he loved Jungkook. After everything that had happened...it was love, right?

"I don't want anyone hurting you, that's why I-I keep you here, because I'm scared that they know about you. That's a fucking weakness, I know it is, I'm fucking weak because of you," Jungkook explained. "But I don't give a shit. I can only trust a few men to not hurt me and I trust even less to not hurt you. They would do it, I know they would do it to get back at me and I can't let those fuckers touch you."

"Darling, slow down," Jimin said in a soothing tone. "You're going to upset yourself again."

"I trust Taehyung to keep you safe, but if he's not around then I'm uncertain," Jungkook continued. "And I know that controlling you like that, it's like you're my fucking pet but I need to keep you safe. Like what dad-"

"What he taught you, I know," Jimin spoke over him, wanting to stop him from mentioning his father before he upset himself again. Jungkook let his breath out in an uneven sigh, lips turning down at the corners.

"I know that that might make you unhappy but...but it's to keep you safe. Safety is more important than happiness, isn't it?"

"Kookie," Jimin explained as he rolled into his side and he slipped his arm over his neck. "You need to sleep. Forget about all of that and just sleep, hmm?" Jungkook closed his eyes and the room was silent for a minute, nothing more than the soft sound of his breathing. Jimin had just finally felt himself succumbing to sleep again when the younger man spoke; his words playing over and over in his mind as he sank down deep into blackness.

"I'm not fucking happy."

Taehyung was very much planning on going to see Seokjin today for information, there was just something else that he had to do first. When he climbed into the back of one of the cars that had left the apartment pool he gave the driver in the front directions to Yongsan-gu instead of Songpa-gu, and then he settled back in the seat and started gnawing on his lower lip. The driver was nameless, just another flat cap visible over the headrest of the driver-seat and he felt no need to talk to the man but rather just stare out of the front window without really seeing what the view offered. It wasn't like he could concentrate on it right now anyway.

It had been too long now, much too long since he last dosage and Taehyung was starting to feel it bad. This wasn't like the day he had met Jungkook's parents and he had started feeling a little nauseous. This was a strange kind of pain in his lower stomach that made him convinced that his bowels were going to give in on him any second. He couldn't stop thinking of it and that was the worst part. He should have been thinking about what had happened today, about the fact that Jeon was dead and here he was just thinking about the hollow feeling inside him that demanded a hit. The stupid Valium hadn't been enough in the end and the low and weak dosage had worked its way out of this system much too fast and left him craving more. He needed a hit and his twitching fingers and aching stomach wouldn't relent until he gave in and found a way to get it.

Taehyung was aware of the fact that he was a junkie but being aware really meant nothing to him at all. It just meant that he could feel some disgust towards himself before the cravings took over again and he found something else to think about. Like his sweating and itching skin, like his aches and pain.

Jimin had told him that Jeon had been murdered in Mapo-gu, likely right around the time that he and Jungkook had been committing their own act of murder in Gwangjin-gu by setting Lee Yoochun on fire in an abandoned warehouse. The fact that the man was dead was something that hadn't fully registered with him yet but it would soon enough, likely as soon as he had shot himself up with some morphine and his mind was thinking straight again. The weight of the case was in his suit jacket pocket: the syringe and just a few more clean needle heads left in the plastic packet for him to use before he needed to get his hands on some more...or cave and start reusing. Taehyung couldn't help himself from reaching inside his pocket and pulling a very familiar vial out to look at it.

The morphine vial that Yoongi had given Jimin had ran out, just like he had been told. Jimin hadn't been lying to try and stop him from sneaking it out for there was nothing more than a dribble left in it. Barely enough to even count as more than a few millimetres. When he tipped the vial the clear liquid pitifully ran along the glass and he felt the most pressing urge to wet his lips looking at it. Shit, if it had been just that little bit more than he could have settled but it just wasn't enough. It wouldn't even give him a hint of a rush and it would fade too quickly. He ended up pressing the window button and tossing the vial right out, not even watching to see if it shattered on the tarmac or not.

When the vehicle finally stopped Taehyung climbed out of the car and he eyed the entrance for a few seconds, finding that his throat had constricted to the width of a straw and that breathing was decidedly harder than it had been a moment ago. The sky was now a dark evening hue of purple and when he breathed out his breath plumed in the cold air like cigarette smoke. He managed to cross the sidewalk and enter the building on slightly wobbling legs, pushing the door open to step inside. Like always the elderly man was standing behind the counter and Taehyung waited to see if he would say anything to him but he didn't for he clearly recognised him. Good, Taehyung wasn't in the mood to have to lie and bullshit his way into the basement and so he just stepped around the counter and went into the back room. The scent of incense and soft voices hanged in the air and he walked the short length of the hallway to get to the right room, going down the hidden staircase as fast as he could. The men in the den all stared at him as he passed and yet none of them stopped him so he carried on to the main area. Just like last time there was a man standing in front of the production area and Taehyung just shoved the door open without even knocking.

The first thing that he heard before he even stepped inside was the sound of voices, words indiscernible but audible. Taehyung looked around the door as he stepped inside but he saw that the room was empty save for Yoongi who was seated at the desk with his arms folded on the wood and his chin balanced on his arms. It seemed like the voices might have been coming from one of the computer screens and just as a rather sweet burst of laughter that sounded somewhat familiar filled the office Yoongi seemed to notice that he had entered the room and he jerked and hit something on his keyboard.

"Christ, you ever heard of knocking, Kim?" Yoongi asked as he awkwardly shifted in his chair and glared at him. The office smelled like the sour tang of marijuana and a mixture of spices and Taehyung eyed a low table to see that it was covered in the remains of food, way too much for one person alone to eat. The sight of a plastic container filled with what looked like chicken katsu was enough to make him stomach clench again, the sauce a thick and rather vomitous gloop.

"Jeon's dead," Taehyung replied, completely off-topic and rather pointlessly. But at his words Yoongi made a soft noise and he reached up to mess with his hair. "Did y'know?"

"Uhuh, yeah I knew. Saw it on the fucking news," he explained. "You were with Master Jeon, right?"

"...Yeah, how'd you figure that out?"

"Jimin told me," Yoongi replied nonchalantly and Taehyung glanced back at the table for a moment before putting it all together. That was why there was so much food, because Jimin hadn't been waiting at home in the penthouse suite like he had thought that he had. No, he had been doing his own thing it would seem, meeting with a certain drug dealer and producer whilst they had been working. Interesting. "He came here for a little while whilst you were working and then left when the...the news broke." He asked him if Jimin was supposed to be here, if he was even allowed to be here. "The fuck do I know? All I know is that he comes here just like Master Jeon does. Ain't that allowed? I mean, you're here right now."

Taehyung dragged his eyes away from the table to look back at him and he saw that Yoongi was staring at him over the top of the computer screens. There was an inquisitive expression on his face, rounded eyes tracking his movements like a hawk even when he was pretty certain that the other man was stoned. Wasn't he always stoned? It was strange how relatable Taehyung currently found this, seen as he was always doped up too.

"Why're you here?" Yoongi asked him as he folded his arms on the desk again, settling down to get comfortable in his seat. But despite his attempt at looking comfortable he was quite clearly watching him very closely. "Shouldn't you be with Master Jeon, huh?" Taehyung shifted on the spot and he knew that the other man knew why he was here. He was doing this just to make him uncomfortable and it was working, working very well.

"I need morphine, Min," Taehyung explained as he slowly moved to stand in front of his desk, hands stuck in his trouser pockets. He looked around the office for a few seconds before settling his gaze on him. "How exactly can I get from you?"

"Oh yeah, you need it?" Yoongi asked as he cocked his head at him, one eyebrow twitching. His mannerisms were starting to get under his skin. "That's funny, 'cos here you are, on the exact same day that Jimin told me that what I gave you was all used up. What makes you think I'm gonna give you some, Kim?"

"Didn't you want that dealer dead, Hong or whatever? I can kill him for you, if you want?" Taehyung offered as he cocked his head in perfect imitation and looked at him. "I can kill anyone you want just for a single vial, don't you think that's a good deal? A lifetime without any trouble for a single bottle."

"I already sorted the issue out with Hong, using my tongue instead of my fists. You could probably learn a little something like that, Kim." Taehyung thought about the fact that he had used his tongue very well so far and then he found himself biting down on it in annoyance.

"Look, Min, just gimme the fucking morphine," Taehyung said brusquely, feeling his fingers rolling up into the tight little fists. "I can't work without it and I need to work right now, I can't fuck around. Master Jeon needs me so just gimme it."

Yoongi stared at him for a moment, eyes not leaving his face once despite his rather demanding tone. He could tell that the other man was playing it over, thinking about what he should do and whether or not he should give into his demands. The way that Taehyung was feeling it would be very unwise of him to deny him it. Perhaps a minute passed and then he pushed his chair out with a heavy sigh. Then he got to his feet and moved away from his desk to go over to the wall safe, lifting the map board off the wall and lowering it to the floor. He was just about to straighten up and reach inside it when he paused, hand hovering just above the handle.

"...Actually," Yoongi said as he turned to look back over his shoulder at him. He held his gaze and waited to see if he would speak, and after a few seconds he did so. "I ain't gonna give you any morphine."

Taehyung stared at him and he waited for him to continue, to explain. Yet the other man was looking at him with a blank expression and it seemed that he wasn't going to say anything else. The den room went silent and through the thin door he could hear voices, distorted voices that he couldn't even begin to understand. Had he just...just said no to him right now?

"What'd you mean?" Taehyung asked him in a quiet voice as he stared at him, brow furrowed severely.

"I don't take orders from you, Kim," Yoongi said with a head shake. "I take orders from Master Jeon and you ain't Master Jeon. Sorry, so I ain't gonna give you any. Come back with a fucking permission slip and I'll give you it."

The den fell silent again and Taehyung just stared at him dumbly. Yoongi moved away from the safe to go back to his desk and that was when he felt a surge of anger. Before he could help himself he reached down to grab hold of his elbow, pulling him hard. Yoongi made a surprised noise that turned into a cry of pain and that was when he slapped him hard across the face. The other man reeled from the blow, head whipping to the side and his messy tangle of blond hair flying. Taehyung grabbed hold of him before he could trip over his own feet and he slammed him against the wall of the office. Yoongi's back hit it first with a loud thumping sound and then his head smacked against it, hard enough to make him groan.

"Don't take orders, huh?" Taehyung asked as he shook him hard again, arm tight around his elbow. Yoongi jerked in his grip like a rag doll and his head bounced off the wall with another loud thumping sound. The other man winced but he didn't cry out in pain this time. "Fuck you, Min, I'm above you. I practically fucking own you. What'd you mean you don't follow orders?" Yoongi made a series of noises at this, all of them sounding like a mixture of fear and irritation, eyes staring down at their feet. There was a dribble of blood escaping from the split in his lip, blood horribly vivid in colour against his pale skin. Taehyung could see a deep pink mark across his cheek from where he had hit him. "What? I can't hear you."

"You're gonna fucking kill yourself," Yoongi said in a low voice. Despite being manhandled, despite the split in the corner of his lip he didn't actually sound angry at him. "If you keep shooting that up you'll kill yourself. Maybe it'll take a few years, maybe it'll take days, but you'll fucking kill yourself."

"The fuck d'you care?" Taehyung spat at him, palm still stinging slightly from the slap. It was almost as if it was itching, telling him to hit him again.

"'Cos Jimin loves you and I don't wanna see him get hurt, you stupid prick!" Yoongi shouted at him, this time showcasing a flare of anger at him. It seemed like he had hit a nerve now, a rather raw nerve. "If you're going to fuck your entire life up, whatever I don't give a shit, but you ain't gonna just fuck yourself up so that's why I ain't giving you anything!"

"...What? You got a crush on him, is that what this is?" Taehyung asked him before snorting laughter. The other man's lips turned down at the corners bitterly, an angry little grimace on his spoilt-looking lips.

"Eat shit, Kim-"

Taehyung slapped him again, this time harder than the first. Yoongi's breath left his lips in a huff and he reeled from the force of the slap and then he wrenched him back hard by the neck of his pullover to press him against the wall again.

"Tell him that he's smart or pretty, pat him on the head a little and he'll bounce on your cock, Min. Take my word for it. He's such a good bitch."

"You don't mean that shit, Kim, it's the withdrawal talking," Yoongi muttered under his breath, hair still hanging forward in his eyes. "Y'think I haven't been through this before, well fuck you I had this shit for years. This is nothing."

"I can bring him one day, just for you. Wouldn't you like that, huh?" Taehyung offered, leaning in closer just to trap him in place that much more. The closeness of their proximity made Yoongi cringe, his slight shoulders going up and his fingers squeezing into little fists. "He's so tight you wouldn't believe it and-" the other man closed his eyes at this, a soft little moan escaping his mouth before he clamped his lips together tightly, "the three of us could have so much fun."

"No, I said no. You ain't getting shit from me, Kim."

"...Min, look I'll do it, I'll do it if you want me to?" Taehyung let go of his elbow and dropped to his knees in front of him. When he seized hold of his hips tightly he felt Yoongi jerking in surprise and he was momentarily surprised by how slight they were. He could feel the sharp and slightly curved bumps of his hipbones through the pullover. "I'll give you the best fucking blowjob of your life right now."

Yoongi looked down at him and Taehyung couldn't really read his expression from the angle he was on. He could have been one of a great many different things: shocked, disgusted, confused or maybe even horrified. Yoongi didn't even seem to blink as he stared at him, didn't seem to breathe. Taehyung couldn't hold his gaze for longer than a few seconds before looking away again, staring at his stomach instead so that he didn't have to feel the weight of his eyes burning into him.

"I'll suck you off so good you'll be seeing stars, you'll-"

"Kim."

"see fucking heaven," Taehyung continued over him in a rapid tone, "and you can fuck me too, fuck me until I'm begging you to stop or-"

"Kim, stop talking you-"

"I can fuck you, if you want?" He looked up at him again and he saw Yoongi had covered his eyes with one hand so that he didn't have to look at him. His fingers were visibly shaking however and he could feel that the rest of his body was too; his hips almost shivering in his grip. "You can do whatever the fuck you want to me, Min. I won't stop you."

"Just stop talking, please," Yoongi said in the most softest voice, hand still covering his eyes.

"I'll make you feel good," Taehyung almost whispered at him. "It's not bad if it feels good, yeah?" He let go of his hip with one hand to push up the ends of his pullover, revealing a flash of black undershorts. "And I'll make you feel so good, baby, so fucking good." Taehyung nuzzled his face against his stomach, his soft and pale stomach that was so unlike Jimin's, and then he grabbed the waistband of his underwear and pulled down hard. He had just gotten them to his upper thighs when Yoongi knocked his head away with a hard shove and Taehyung almost fell back in surprise. He saw the other man awkwardly trying to fix his underwear, trying to pull the clothing back up before he could try again.

"Shit, Min, just gimme a little something, please ," Taehyung whined at him, face contorting as the strangest urge to start crying took over. He snagged hold of his hips again, hugging his arms around him tightly so that he couldn't shove him away. "I'm gonna die, I swear I'm gonna fucking die. My skin feels like it's peeling off right now, it fucking hurts you dunno how bad it hurts!" He burrowed his face against his stomach, muffling his breathing and voice. "I can't stop fucking thinking about it, I can't!"

"Kim, I know how it feels. I know how it fucking feels but you-"

Taehyung started sobbing, unable to stop himself. He had tried everything and yet Yoongi wouldn't give in to this little demand. Why the fuck was he doing this to him? Why did Yoongi hate him so much? There were no words to explain the agony that he was going through right now. His skin felt cold one second and then burning hot the next, causing his skin to ripple with hard little goosebumps. He had long surpassed the need to kick and shake his legs and had rather discovered that most of his body was shaking instead, shaking from a mixture of shivers and aches in his muscles that seemed to go right down to the bone. But the worst part by far was the occasional strong cramps that would hit his stomach and make him certain that he was going to vomit or maybe even shit himself. It hurt right now, the withdrawal, and what hurt even more was the fact that Taehyung knew that he was giving into it, that he was weak and disgusting and pathetic. No wonder Yoongi wouldn't give him the fucking morphine.

First he had tried to bribe him, then he had threatened him and now...now he was on his knees in front of him begging and offering sexual favours for a fucking hit.

Oh, if only his team could see him right now.

"I juh-just need a little suh-something, just a luh-little I swear I won't-"

"Kim, just lemme-"

"get adduh-dicted I swear, Min," he carried on sobbing over him. Taehyung was almost certain that he felt the other man sagging against him, quickly losing this argument. "Just a luh-little something."

"Shit, I'll give you anything other than morphine alright? I'll give you another opioid like-"

"No no no," Taehyung moaned out, the words all rolling up into one big mess as he clutched at his pullover. "I don't need any other shit I just need the morphine. Just a little, just one shot and I'm guh-good, yeah?"

Just like a moment ago Yoongi shoved him away hard and this time he did fall backwards to land on the floor in a crumpled mess. His shoulder bounced off the flooring and there was a flare of pain as a result, enough to have him cry out in pain and then start sobbing again. He struggled to sit back upright, seizing hold of his shoulder as he did to try and not move it and he saw that the other man was standing in front of the safe again, reaching inside of it.

Taehyung felt a rather gleeful sensation in the pit of his stomach at the very sight and he had to press his lips together to stop himself from moaning.

Yoongi grabbed hold of a small envelope and he pulled it out of the safe and turned around to look at him. There was a pained expression on his face, lips pulled in at the corners and eyes on the floor. It was hard trying to figure out if he was mad at him or whether he was disgusted with himself for giving into him like this. He shoved the envelope at him hard, right against his chest so that he had to reach up and grab it before he let go and it fell to the floor.

"Get the fuck outta here, Kim, seriously don't come back!" Yoongi shouted at him, face scrunched up in anger. "I never wanna see your fucking face again!"

Taehyung didn't need telling twice and so he struggled back to his feet and left the office, pulling the door shut behind him. Before it closed properly he was certain that he heard Yoongi letting his breath out in a wheezy sound that could have been a sob. Before leaving the area he made sure to wipe his cheeks dry and sniff hard, finding that his nose and eyes still wanted to run long after he had stopped crying. He shoved the envelope into his suit jacket to hide it out of view and then he left the building. Somewhere at the back of his mind Taehyung felt pretty shitty for what he had just done to Yoongi but mostly...mostly he was too busy thinking about the fact he was finally going to get that hit he had been craving for hours now. He got into the back of the car and gave the address of Seokjin's casino to the driver as he slammed the door shut and settled back on the seat. The car had barely done much more than pull away from the curb when Taehyung pulled the envelope out.

His fingers were shaking as he turned the envelope over and looked at the front. There was a series of scrawled words on it that showed that the envelope was most certainly not for him and so he tore the top free and tipped it so that the contents spilled onto his lap. There was a long strip of tourniquet, a thin rubberised band like the one that Jimin had used, and that hallowed vial of morphine. Taehyung grabbed hold of it and held it so tight it was a miracle that the vial didn't crack in his grip.

It crossed his mind, sitting in the back of the vehicle whilst he shrugged his jacket off, that he was going through a ritual. The entire process was a ritual for him: from the rolling up of the shirt sleeve, to the drawing of the liquid up into the needle right up to the injection. His own fucked up little ritual that was really nothing more than an addiction. But Taehyung didn't care because he finally had his hands on morphine and he needed to use it right now. He didn't bother folding his jacket neatly but rather just grabbed the syringe from the case and set about attempting to get the needle in the head. He pricked his finger a few times and almost snapped it but eventually it slipped in place and he let his breath out in a sigh of relief. Taehyung placed it on his lap as he turned his attention to his sleeve, unbuttoning the cuff and rolling it up past his elbow. Then he grabbed the makeshift tourniquet and slipped it up his arm before grabbing the ends between his teeth and pulling to tighten it.

Next came the important part. Taehyung unscrewed the cap from the vial, held tightly in his useless left arm. The foil it revealed was virgin, not even a slight mark on the surface never mind a puncture. He grabbed the syringe and pierced it for the first time, using his thumb to awkwardly pull the pusher up. The liquid started filling it up, passing the little black lines that marked the dosage. 30ml, 40ml what difference did it make? He didn't give a shit at this point, an overdose would probably be a fucking blessing in disguise.

Taehyung had the end of the tourniquet in his teeth and he couldn't help but moan and pull on it tighter, tapping at his inner elbow until he saw the first vein appearing and begging to be injected. He stuck the needle in and depressed the pusher with his thumb and pulled it free again. A bead of blood welled and started dribbling down his forearm and when the morphine hit his system he let go of the tourniquet and dropped the syringe without a care.

"Fuh...fuck," Taehyung moaned as he tried to loosen the annoying piece of rubber, scratching at his arm until it loosened and he could slip it free. He sank back in the seat and it took only a few minutes before the hot and cold flushes stopped and the worrying cramps settled down. When he finally moved to collect the syringe his hands weren't shaking either. They were completely steady as he slipped the needle head free and tossed it out of the window again without a single care.

Taehyung completed his ritual by putting the items away again, screwing the morphine lid onto the vial and then placing both it and the syringe inside his suit jacket pocket. After some thought he decided to add the tourniquet too, just to be safe. Then he turned his attention back to his arm and he eyed the dribble on blood on his skin. Jungkook had kissed that free last time he had injected him but there was no one here to kiss it free now. Instead he just wiped the blood away roughly and pulled down on his shirt sleeve to rebutton the cuff. When the jacket had been shrugged back on and he could settle back in the seat Taehyung was amazed by how much better he felt now. He could think again clearly without the incessant craving for the morphine taking over and making him start sweating and shaking. It was rather strange that it took a dosage of an opioid to wake him up again but Taehyung tried to not think about the drug right now. There was plenty enough time for thinking later, when the cravings returned to plague him.

In the time that it took for the vehicle to reach Songpa-gu Taehyung considered calling Jungkook but decided that it was best to not do so. Just like last time Jimin had likely already called him a dozen fucking times so he decided not to. Whatever Jungkook was doing was likely important and therefore it seemed pointless to call him. What would he even say to the younger man? Asking him if he was okay seemed rather strange and unneeded, extended well beyond business and instead bordered on intimacy. Yet he had still felt the pressing urge to do so and that said something to him. If Jungkook wasn't okay then that could be a bad thing, could affect both business and his safety. But Taehyung also just wanted to ensure that he was alright. There was nothing...wrong with wanting to make sure that he was handling the situation well.

The car stopped outside the casino and Taehyung sorted himself out before climbing out of the back, fixing his suit jacket and ensuring that he looked more presentable. It was hard looking good when his skin still had a rather sickly cast to it and his hair was starting to clump together from his sweat so he just tried to straighten out any creases before shoving the door open and climbing out of the back, slamming the door shut behind him. Just like the drug den when he entered the building he wasn't stopped for the woman on the entrance desk just smiled and nodded at him. So Taehyung just pushed the curtain aside and entered the main area, crossing the floor to get to Seokjin's office. Unlike with Yoongi he made sure to knock before letting himself in a moment later.

Seokjin wasn't seated at his desk like usual but had actually been in the process of stepping out of a small side room connected to the office. Taehyung saw a large, steaming mug in his hand and the unmistakable scent of coffee wafted over to him: strong and acidic. A quick glance at the open doorway showed a small area that looked like a kitchenette, in which he had no doubt just made the coffee. Seokjin studied him for a moment, blinking slowly behind his rounded glasses as if he was struggling to figure out what he was doing in his office like this. After a temporary silence the other man shifted to place his mug down on the desk.

"Good evening, Taehyung, I didn't expect to see you this evening," he said before letting out a soft laugh. "but I guess it makes perfect sense that you would come here after what happened today."

"Yeah, makes perfect sense," Taehyung agreed with a nod as he closed the door behind him. The other man moved to stand beside his chair, not sitting down just yet for he was too busy studying him. "Today is...I guess it's probably the most historic night in Haedogje Pa history, huh?"

"I guess that it is, yes. I heard that you've been through hell, Taehyung," Seokjin said as he slowly pulled his chair in and folded his arms on the desk. "You got shot, didn't you? Got shot saving Master Jeon's life? I think that a great many Haedogje Pa men should be grateful and indebted to you for doing such a thing. Not many men would take a bullet, it shows great loyalty."

"None of these Haedogje Pa bitches are loyal, Seokjin," he disagreed with a disgusted noise. "They don't care about loyalty, just about their fucking bank accounts."

"Seems like a lot of men are exchanging bullets instead of words these days," Seokjin muttered under his breath as he fixed his glasses. "So what exactly are you here for this evening, Taehyung?"

Taehyung crossed the room to get to the other chair, sitting down without invitation. Seokjin lifted his gaze at this, watching him for a moment before turning his gaze back to his computer monitor again. The mug was currently being nursed between his hands, untouched and the perfect prop. He settled down on the seat, trying to get as comfortable as he could.

"I'm here 'cos of Kim Jinwoo and y'know why. So let's not fuck around, yeah?" Taehyung announced just as Seokjin lifted the mug to take a sip. At his words he stopped, lips against the rim. "Let's just get right to business. I know that Jinwoo ordered the attempt on Master Jeon's life and he failed. And I also know that Master Jeon ordered the attempt on Kim Jintae's life which-"

"Was successful," Seokjin finished for him as he lowered the mug. "Yes, we have all heard about that particular fiasco, the one that-"

"Caused Jinwoo to strike back and kill Jeon, yeah?" Taehyung continued over him too, seeing the other man nodding in agreement. "No, wrong, that's completely wrong. Before this clusterfuck happened me and Master Jeon got info from Lee Yoochun, not a great deal of info but he said something to us, something about steps. Master Jeon was step one, Jeon was step two. Jinwoo's been planning this all along, it wasn't a strike back it was annihilation. All of that cash that Lee had wired to him was spent perfecting his plans, and though I fucked up step one he carried on with step two regardless."

"So, Jintae had nothing to do with this situation?" Seokjin asked, brow furrowed over his glasses.

"His death might have triggered Jinwoo but I don't think so, I think that this was planned for a while just like the attack on Master Jeon. It couldn't have been sporadic, that just doesn't make any sense or Jeon would've been dead years ago if it was that easy to fucking kill him. This has been planned, that's what I think."

"You think a lot of things don't you, Taehyung?" Seokjin remarked as he lowered his mug and sighed heavily. "I know why you're here but sadly I don't think that you will find much assistance. Gathering information on Master Kim is rather pointless. I only have information regarding his activities in this country, and Kim has seemingly been abroad for the last few months. I have nothing new that Master Jeon doesn't already possess. I daresay that my...incompetence to collect more information is something I would rather not broadcast."

"Does any of your info relate to possible rebellions?" Taehyung asked as he settled back in his seat. "Anything that we should've known in advance? Anything that could've saved Jeon's life?"

"No," Seokjin replied curtly, "I've already checked several times over but my information on Master Kim is woeful. With him not being present in the country I can only observe Haedogje Pa on a whole and try and catch any men out that make mistakes. I believe that Master Jeon has better information on the situation than I do because I only ever track the men that he requests me to." Taehyung studied his face as he spoke to see that he was telling the truth, or at least being as honest as a man in his position could be. "I was asked to track Ahn and I did, I was asked to track Lee and I did. Is there a man in particular that you want me to track? Because if there is, I can."

"Yeah there is actually, I need info on Jimin."

The office fell silent at this, a deathly quiet so that he could hear the sound of the clock on the wall ticking away steadily. Seokjin was looking at him with a rather hard to read expression and he was more than certain that on the surface it was sheer surprise, but underneath that was something entirely different. Something rather hard and cold. Taehyung just held his gaze and waited for him to speak rather than explain himself.

"What do you want information on Jimin for, Taehyung? " Seokjin asked in a very quiet voice, breaking the minute long silence as he did. Taehyung sensed that the query was an unusual one, one that the other man had clearly not been expecting. Was it possible that he had maybe stepped out of line with his question? Would Seokjin contact Jungkook to let him know that he had been snooping around where he shouldn't have been or was he just assuming that to be the case? Yet there was a sense coming off Seokjin that he couldn't possibly mistake for what it was: defensiveness. The mere mention of Jimin had caused him to get defensive and Taehyung really wanted to know why exactly.

"Protecting one of your own?" Taehyung asked in a rather snobbish tone. He could see that Seokjin didn't like that, didn't like being spoken down to even when he was well above him in terms of position. It was in the way that his lips twitched and his brow seemed to lower ever so slightly. The fact that he knew that this would get under his skin meant that Taehyung was very much going to use it to his advantage. It might have also been the fact that he had once again brought his past as a prostitute into the conversation and that was bound to piss Seokjin off.

"No, not one of my own, but I usually only share information on men that have done some kind of wrongdoing. Do you think Jimin has done such wrongdoing? Do you think that there's something that you need to know about him?" Seokjin shifted in his seat and folded his hands primly on his desk, his position showing that he thought that he had raised some good points and had set this up for a debate. Just like Yoongi it seemed that he was trying to avoid giving him something, but at least unlike the situation with Yoongi Taehyung could think straight. There would be no need for threats and physical intimidation now, he was pretty certain that he could talk him into submission.

"You're kinda talking like y'know something about him," Taehyung retorted. "D'you, or are you just wasting time to put me off so that I'll leave?"

Seokjin sighed at this, his shoulders rising and falling as he closed his eyes behind his glasses. There was an air of barely reigned in resignation coming from him, as if he wasn't going to argue with him for too long. Good, Taehyung could really do without all of this today, and if Seokjin decided to play nicely then he could hurry up and get back to the apartment block in Gangnam-gu and figure out what the fuck was going on.

"OK, you wanna know why I wanna know about him?" Taehyung said as he shifted to sit upright in his seat. "I know nothing about him, and I don't like this fact. I told you that time I came here to collect info; it's my business to know who men are. The fact I know nothing about Jimin means that I wanna know about him, I wanna find out who the fuck he is instead of just accepting him as Master Jeon's newest toy, yeah?"

"That's funny, I thought that you were the newest toy, Kim," Seokjin retorted in a rather sardonic fashion, lips quirking up at one corner.

"Y'know something about him, I know you do 'cos you look guilty as fuck, Seokjin. So how about we just talk it over, huh? Talk to me about him."

"Jimin has done nothing wrong," Seokjin said, eyes still closed. "He did nothing wrong and I want you to know that. Remember his past first Taehyung, before you dare make any assumptions about him. Jimin was still working under Nam, and he had no choice."

"If he's innocent, done nothing wrong, then that's good, right?" Taehyung remarked as he shrugged at him. "He can be crossed off the list, he's perfectly clean and I don't need to worry about him. Isn't it better than I know he's innocent? So just tell me what the fuck you're talking about so we can move on from this, yeah?"

Seokjin pulled open his drawer to retrieve something and he saw that it was another USB pen. The entire drawer was likely filled with them, unused and waiting for him to copy files onto it. He uncapped the pen and then shoved it into the port on the computer. Taehyung watched him intently, wriggling the mouse and then hitting a few keys and that was when he got out of the seat and went around to stand behind him.

"Don't bother with the files, just lemme see everything now."

"...What do you mean?" Seokjin asked him in confusion, freezing in his chair and twisting to look back at him.

"I gotta check everything like this," Taehyung explained as he leaned over him. "Can't check any files at the apartment in case Master Jeon or Jimin see me, yeah? If you want to avoid causing any trouble for Jimin, just show me everything now."

Seokjin thought this over for a moment before turning back to his computer and grabbing hold of a Rolodex, a rather large one. Taehyung watched him turning it, scanning the countless card shoved inside with his eyes as his fingers lightly ruffled them, and when he found the right one he pulled it free. There looked to be a series of names and numbers scribbled onto it and he grabbed the mouse and opened up the search option for the desktop. Taehyung hovered behind him, noting the way that he entered a series of random digits rather than a name. Whilst the computer searched for the file he slipped the card back inside the machine, then he told him that this could take a few minutes. Taehyung told him that he could wait, that he had no schedule to worry about.

"How's Master Jeon?" Seokjin asked to break the silence, the computer scanning hundreds of thousands of files. "I assume that you were with him when the news broke?"

"I was but I dunno how he is, he left me at the apartment and went off without telling me where," Taehyung explained. "That's why I took advantage of the situation to come and see you."

"...I see."

It took perhaps five minutes before the computer brought back a match, a zipped and password protected folder that Seokjin proceeded to unlock. He typed so fast that Taehyung had no possible way of tracking his fingers. The folder contained just a few files in total, nowhere near the amount that Mayor Jung's folder had contained. Seokjin shifted to pull his chair out slightly, gesturing at the screen to tell him that he could look and so Taehyung leaned over and opened the first image file. At first the photographs that loaded up were that of streets, streets that he vaguely felt like he recognised and covered in snow, and so he flicked through several of them until the next photograph was that of a CCTV camera. The shot was that of a road and a black vehicle, a rather nondescript one that didn't really catch the eye, but in the following shots Taehyung saw something very interesting.

A series of photographs of a young-looking man climbing out of the back of the car that looked very much like Jimin.

"What's that around his neck, huh?" Taehyung asked as he reached over and circled his forefinger around the photograph.

"A collar," Seokjin explained. "Nam made all of his workers wear them as opposed to branding them because he thought that brands ruined the profit value." His tone was devoid of emotion, flat and cold but also somewhat bitter. Taehyung thought this over for a moment before hitting the next button. He eyed another CCTV shot to see a date in the corner of the still. 17/11/2012. If his calculations were correct then Jimin could have been eighteen or perhaps a little younger. A bar interior? Or was it maybe a club instead? So he asked Seokjin what the hell he was looking at and the other man shifted in his chair. "That's Master Kim's bar, in Gangnam-gu, it's called-"

"La Zone," Taehyung finished over him in a quiet voice.

Jimin had told him that he had met Kim Jinwoo a few times in the past with Jungkook but it appeared that he hadn't entirely been genuine with him that day. No, it seemed that Jimin had met Jinwoo another way and that had entailed him being bought in some way and sent to the bar. So why hasn't he told him that in the first place? Was it because Jimin hadn't trusted him enough at that point? Or was it because of something else?

"Seokjin, give me facts I want facts," Taehyung demanded as he turned his head to stare at him. "What the fuck is going on here?"

"I told you, Jimin is innocent and he had nothing to do with what happened the day that the photographs were taken, or with any other matter that involves Master Kim. I know what happened yes, because I've...spoken to Jimin to an extent about this issue in the past. Privately of course, without alerting Master Jeon . "

"Why didn't you alert him?"

"Because Master Jeon was not and will never be a whore, Taehyung, but I was and I know. I wanted to address the matter of Jimin being seen in Master Kim's territory when I was looking into past files and Jimin explained everything that I needed to know."

"OK, so talk and tell me what y'know."

"Jimin was sold for the day to Master Kim on behest of Nam's orders. Nam had been trying to win him over, curry his favour if you will, to allow exotic dancers and prostitutes to be present in his bars. Jimin had basically been sent as a peace offering to try and appease him . "

"Why Jimin? Why a male, why the fuck would Nam send a male prostitute to try and win Master Kim over: the notorious homophobe?"

"...You really don't know much about Master Kim, do you?" Seokjin asked in a soft voice. Taehyung could only stare at the photographs in silence and wait for him to continue. "All you need to know is that Jimin was sold to his bar for the day to do business and that was all that happened. Though I don't feel like I need to tell you such private information if it gets you to leave the matter alone I will. Jimin provided no sexual services to Master Kim...but there were unspecified services offered to some of his men whilst he was in the bar."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that it wasn't part of the deal that Jimin was informed about. Look, don't hold Jimin accountable for something he had no control over Taehyung ," Seokjin said in a surprisingly stern tone. "He was sold that day like a fucking item and if Jimin had any idea that you knew about this it would destroy him. He's been living in fear of this for several months now, even when he did no wrong. So don't hold him accountable and put his well being in danger . "

"D'you think he's in danger if Master Jeon finds out about this?"

"I think, considering everything that has happened, that the slightest thing could cause Master Jeon to explode , " Seokjin replied. "So, let's focus on the real men to blame here and not an innocent young man that got dragged into the middle of this clusterfuck . "

OK, so he wouldn't need to tell Jungkook about this particular matter but that didn't mean that the information was useless. Knowing something about Jimin that could be used against him was always good to have. Any information that he could gather that could be used against another man was good and so he made sure to burn the date of the encounter into his memory. Then he turned back to the computer monitor and hit the mouse button a few times. When the next photograph appeared on the screen he almost jerked back in surprise.

Taehyung was looking at a photograph of a child on the screen in front of him, a child wearing an elementary school uniform and posing perfectly for the camera. The little boy was seated down on a set of school steps with his elbows balanced on his knees so that he could hold his face in his hands in a rather sweet fashion. A rather chubby child, wearing a white shirt and grey summer shorts with little black patent leather shoes and a typical school hat on his head: unmistakably Jimin. Taehyung could tell from a single glance that he was looking at Jimin and the photograph caused a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Jimin was roughly...seven years and three months old in that photograph," the other man told him. "It was taken on a school picture day, there's more. There's a class photograph from when he was aged six, another of him with his younger brother, aged seven and four, almost five respectively, and the final image I have of him is a scan of his birth certificate," Seokjin explained in a quiet voice. Taehyung clicked his way through the photographs until he reached the birth certificate and he stared at it dumbly for a moment.

Park Jimin.

Taehyung finally knew his full name.

"You've known who he is all this time?" he asked as he dragged his eyes away from the screen to look at him. "Does he know?"

"No."

"Does Master Jeon?"

"No."

"Seokjin...this is his identity, this is Jimin's life," Taehyung said breathlessly as he stared at the scan of his birth certificate. "With this kinda info you could-"

"Could what, Taehyung? What exactly could I do? Set him free, let him go back to living a life with a family that has thought him dead for thirteen years? Don't be so naïve," Seokjin scoffed at him and then shook his head. "Jimin doesn't have a life outside of Haedogje Pa, and I think that the fact Jimin is oblivious to his old life is better for him. He can't have that back, he can't have normalcy. Letting him think that he could is just cruel; ignorance is bliss."

Taehyung went back to the photograph of Jimin, possibly one of the last ones ever taken of him before he had been snatched off the streets that dreadful day. Jimin had once remarked that he must have been a cute child, maybe a little chubby, and Taehyung could see with his own two eyes that he was. But when he looked at Jimin he saw nothing more than a child, not a fucking won sign. But the Haedogje Pa men that had kidnapped him had. They had seen won signs and more. It was enough to make him let go of the mouse for fear that he might tighten his grip on it and break the thing.

"This isn't a fairy tale, Taehyung, you don't get rescued like that in this world," Seokjin said in a quiet voice. "You shouldn't even be thinking of Jimin like that, thinking about him possibly managing to get away from Haedogje Pa and Master Jeon. He's just a whore, Taehyung, and it's all that he will ever be. Do you really think that there's a way that Jimin could ever have anything normal in his life? After everything that he's seen and been through, the abuses and the drugs, do you think that he could have a normal life?"

"No, but can any of us?" Taehyung retorted as he turned his head to look at him. "Can any of us get outta this and have something normal in the end, huh?"

Judging from Seokjin's expression the answer was a clear no.