Chapter Text
The first piece of awareness that comes back to him, funnily enough, is the discomfort from the butt of his pistol digging into his back. The ringing in his ears, the dull pain in the back of his head where it rests against something soft, the more piercing pain in the front of his head, behind his eyes – those fall into place immediately after.
Then, his memories. The mission he thought he was in the middle of, the fence he was in the process of climbing, oh, fuck, the target he and Jungkook are currently supposed to be killing – no, who Jungkook has supposedly killed, which means they've already placed themselves in danger, they've already started the timer ticking second by second towards the moment one of them will be found, will be hurt, unless one of them already has been?
He ought to be realistic here – he himself is hurt, has clearly already been hurt by whatever the fuck just occurred. He just doesn't know, yet, how bad his situation is.
Hoseok opens his eyes. It's dark, blissfully dark, and as he blinks, the starry details of the night sky come into sharper focus. (So he's still outdoors, and not much time has passed. Good, those are two good things.) He's not sure it would be a good idea to sit up right now – that might call more attention to himself than he's prepared to deal with – so instead, still lying on his back, he draws his legs and arms back in from their uncomfortably twisted positions before extending the limbs out again, feeling around for whatever's there.
To his right, his gloved hand knocks against some collection of thin, prickly branches, his boot pushing back against what might be more of the same. To his left, though – when he feels it, he knows exactly what it is and where he must still be. The fence, that stupid fence he must have fallen from when he was getting – well, back when whatever happened to him was in the middle of happening.
So he hasn't been found and dragged off somewhere to be interrogated, at least not yet. For now, he's still concealed. (But what about Jungkook? Where is he, how is he, is he still safe?)
He exhales, allows his limbs to relax, and closes his eyes. Taking deep breaths, in and out, he convinces himself this isn't a waste of precious time, focuses on the feeling of his headache dissipating, and doesn’t try to get up until he’s sure he’ll be able to fight.
The fence is right there next to him, available for use as leverage, but he doesn't accept any help pulling himself up, trying to prove his readiness to himself. Standing against the chain link, he's still basically in the same advantageous spot he occupied before Jungkook shot the target, before anything weird happened; so it should probably be okay to stand here for a second and continue recovering his bearings.
The darkness is far from total, thanks to the bright moon and meager cloud cover, but all of the lights that were on in and around the house – they're now out, and he can't help but notice this immediately. But: why? Is this strategic somehow? Did somebody in the guard tower flip a master switch that caused... whatever happened to him on the fence, as well as whatever happened at the house?
And in that case, is there a better chance Jungkook is perfectly fine...?
But if he's fine, why isn't he saying anything? Why is Hoseok's radio quiet?
Reaching towards his TALK button, he mutters into his headset, still attached securely despite his fall. "Jungkook? Are you there?"
It doesn't seem like he is. There's no reply. No; as Hoseok listens, no, the receiver isn't just quiet. There's not even any of the noise that would come with a received signal – it's silent.
Goddamnit. Did he break it? He unhooks the radio-and-battery-pack part from his belt with an annoyed huff and after a couple attempts peels back the sticker he put over the ON LED. It's not supposed to be so easy to break, but... this light is off, too, and it remains off as he slides the power switch up and down. Fuck, fuck, he really broke it, then?
Does that mean Jungkook is trying to reach him over on the other side of the island and failing? Even if he's unhurt, does it mean he's feeling the same worry and alarm Hoseok is currently doing his best to suppress? (Hoseok doesn't want to think about it; he's going to suppress that thought as well...)
There's something else he ought to check, he supposes, buckling his radio back onto his belt (because maybe it'll start working again later?) and bending down to open one of his pants' lower zipper pockets, taking out his cell phone – which maybe he shouldn't have brought to the island with him, given the terrible odds of getting cell service out here, but oh well – and attempting to power it on.
Nothing. There's nothing. None of the buttons do anything.
He doesn't have any clue what happened, and he's growing more and more confused, honestly; but what's clear enough is that tonight's mission is not proceeding according to the plan, all the way down to the problems he thought were possible to run into.
He needs to find Jungkook so they can get out – that was key even before Hoseok got hurt and passed out, but reuniting seems especially important now that they can't communicate. So – he’s not going to freak out, he’ll keep it together, he’ll stick to the preexisting plan and get back to the rendezvous point as quickly as he can.
He runs. On this side of the fence, he doesn’t have to try to hide from cameras, so he just books it – the throbbing behind his eyes, while much less painful than before, is difficult to push to the back of his awareness, which he knows makes him more vulnerable to attack but he doesn't have time to wait and recover more – and he arrives quickly.
But Jungkook isn’t there. No one's there. Fuck.
Okay. Hands on his knees, he takes another handful of deep breaths. Time for a judgement call. At this point, he can either proceed down to the beach with the hope of finding Jungkook already at the boat; or, since he really would've expected Jungkook, if he was able, to either wait for him at this spot or to go looking for him – but, not having run into Jungkook heading in the other direction as he ran here, he'll rule that one out – he can keep going towards the island's other side with the hope (more realistically, the fear) of finding Jungkook somehow incapacitated over there...
The decision is simple, actually. Doing something unnecessary and stupid and getting himself killed is infinitely more acceptable than playing it safe and, through inaction, allowing Jungkook to be hurt.
And maybe the way he's weighing those two options is a little... off... but he can reexamine his set of values at a later date. For now, he's taking off down the length of the rocky incline, again at a run, retracing Jungkook's steps from earlier. He doesn't have a map, now that his phone doesn't work, but he thinks he remembers the path well enough; so, pistol at the ready, he dashes from shadow to shadow, avoiding direct moonlight and listening closely for any sound indicating either friend or foe.
Even as the long seconds tick on and on, he knows he can't allow himself to lose focus, so he doesn't. And his efforts pay off, about five minutes in, when the viewing angle to the mansion (including the target's balcony) is just starting to resemble the vantage point he picked out for Jungkook to use. Hoseok thinks he hears something resembling a shout, the noise coming from somewhere ahead of him, and he leaps towards the shelter of a tall bush to wait for more information before continuing.
Yeah. As he sits there, catching his breath, more of the same indistinct yelling. Something is clearly happening – and sure, he was already well aware of that, but the fact that it's happening over here is what has his pulse picking up, his hands sweating, his mind racing towards the worst possible conclusion.
Even if the worst scenario is not the most likely scenario, it's clear enough that he needs to get over there and check it out. Needs to do it now.
He cocks his pistol before stepping out from the shadow of the bush. There's a hill in front of him, and he wonders if what he hears originates directly on the other side; in that case, the top of the hill might grant him a nice vantage point, but it may also place him in more danger given he doesn't know exactly where the shouting people are.
So he rounds the side of it, finger on the trigger. With every tiny step forward, he still doesn't see anyone – hopefully because there's no one to be seen, not because of the dark – but their voices do grow more and more distinct, and he's soon able to piece together some of the phrases...
“…couldn’t have been nothing, something clearly happened, motherfucker…” This guy sounds like he’s angry with someone. “…gone two, three years without some weird fucking power outage, you can’t convince me this is a coincidence!”
“Longer than three years,” a second person adds. This one isn’t yelling; he's quieter, which means Hoseok must be closing in, which means if he makes a wrong move these people will be able to hear him. “Look, man, maybe we should get some backup—"
“Obviously we need backup,” the first guy wails. “How the fuck are we supposed to get that? All I’m saying is, if we figure out what he did, maybe we’ll be able to reverse it!”
‘He.’ 'What he did' – is it a coincidence? Or do they have any idea… no, no, don’t think about it yet. If he rounds this corner and creeps slightly higher up this incline, Hoseok thinks he’ll be on them. He desperately hopes nobody is looking in his direction – he doesn’t want a shootout, he just wants to see what’s going on. He desperately hopes –
"Well? Speak up!" Only a second passes, Hoseok still creeping upwards, honestly terrified but doing his utmost to keep his body under control; and then the sudden sound of a gunshot, the pained exclamation that jumps from-from Jungkook's throat, oh, god, fuck, everything immediately becomes real.
Hoseok curses himself and leaps the rest of the way forward, positioning himself not to hide – he wants the advantage of stealth, but it’s not the main priority right now – but rather to attack. He wishes he could comprehend the whole scene instantaneously, but it takes him multiple seconds to understand what he's looking at, eyes darting back and forth, fitting all the pieces together one by one into the chilling, comprehensive image.
At least two of the target's security guards stand within his field of view, both of them with their weapons drawn, and both of their weapons pointed at Jungkook, effectively holding him in place from two different angles, from two different distances; the first guy, the angrier-looking one, gripping the shoulder of Jungkook's vest tightly in one hand, is just now raising his gun – probably having fired the shot Hoseok just heard – back to the side of Jungkook's head. Just a couple of centimeters from his skin.
Jungkook has his arms raised in a gesture of surrender, trying to keep himself from getting hurt – although that’s clearly not working out, his face contorted into a forcibly almost-neutral expression. Clearly in pain. (But at least he’s still standing – that’s something, right?)
So, fuck this first guy. Hoseok's going to hurt this guy in the near future and he’s not going to feel bad about it. The burn of fear, terror, crawling up from the pit of his stomach, is so consuming it’s unfamiliar; he barely knows what to do with it – obviously he doesn’t know; that’s what he’s trying to figure out. Right. Fuck. Focus.
Hoseok's gaze jumps slightly to the left, where the second guard brandishes his weapon more loosely – although that doesn’t guarantee much, could change in an instant. (Useless observation. He’s wasting time. Just, keep going.) The fact that he’s calmer in this situation could indicate a higher level of competence, or it could mean nothing. Whatever. If he corresponds to the second voice Hoseok heard, he at least has more knowledge about the island. Has worked here longer.
Okay. Okay. Having likely been disarmed, and how having been hurt, Jungkook must be waiting, watching these two gentlemen argue, anticipating a better opening. And Hoseok is going to deliver that. He bites the inside of his lower lip in frustration – he just needs to decide which of these guys ought to be taken out first…
“Seriously, kid – if you aren’t going to cooperate, what incentive do the two of us have to keep you around?” the calmer of the two poses, and that’s- that’s more than enough.
He’s had plenty of time to think, waited multiple seconds too long; his hands already close to where he wants them, he fires off two shots at the first guard, the one closer to Jungkook, and both hit home, sending the guy staggering backwards before he can respond. Jungkook dives after him, the action more of a fall – so is it his leg that’s hurt, then? – pushing him the rest of the way to the ground and, no longer surrendering, doing something with his hands that makes the other man scream in pain.
Good. Obviously a step in the right direction. Hoseok can’t clearly make out what happens next, though; he's distracted by the second guard who intelligently prioritizes the new, unknown threat behind him over disarmed-injured-preoccupied Jungkook in front of him, whirling around so his weapon is vaguely – the guard scans over the whole hill, hasn't actually caught sight of him yet – in Hoseok's face, now, which is an improvement.
Hoseok adjusts his angle, shoots again, and this time narrowly misses guard number two, even though he's closer, surprised by the other loud bang that unexpectedly asserts itself somewhere in the surrounding, dark scene and the panic that crashes over him like a sheet of ice, the horrible sudden certainty that he's badly messed up, he's made everything worse, and he's just witnessed Jungkook's death.
Another loud noise, this one distorted by his panic, as if he were listening to the action from underwater, punches him in the chest – or, no, it doesn't, but that’s what he’d think if he didn’t know better. If he weren't as experienced. But Hoseok does know what it feels like to be shot, and he recognizes, a new wave of alarm following closely after all the other ones, that the bullet must have struck his torso.
Ah, fuck. Well, he reassures himself, his inner voice oddly distant – he's got his bulletproof vest on, so that should have protected him a fair amount. But, at point blank range like this, he can’t immediately tell how badly he's hurt; he’ll be able to determine in a minute whether the bullet broke skin by the level of pain, by its location...
(How is he going to get both Jungkook and himself off the island if he's bleeding to death? If one of his vital organs is giving out?)
It's okay. It'll be okay, once he recovers himself; he's putting himself in danger, and putting Jungkook in danger, shit, and he will continue to endanger the both of them as long as he isn't completely aware of his surroundings. He just has to... he attempts to return to his position, to prepare to attack again – how did he end up a step and a half backwards, one knee and one hand on the ground, buried in the grass – but the backpack, the other equipment he's wearing, the pistol he's trying to hold all seem much heavier than they were a minute ago, and he struggles.
That's a bad sign.
"Cut it out!" The second guard, the one who just shot him, yells – unclear whether the comment is intended for Hoseok or not. The other guy isn't making noise anymore; Hoseok didn't notice when he stopped. "Stand down; I’ll kill you—"
When things start happening, they happen all at once. This is the sole thought that echoes through Hoseok's brain as he finally forces himself back to an almost-upright, almost-standing position and immediately sees Jungkook, also standing and holding the first guard's gun (thank you, thank you, thank you, Hoseok might pass out from the influx of relief), fire multiple rounds into the second guard's upper back, sending him toppling forwards with a grunt.
For however long he stays there, the threat is neutralized. And the long grass and darkness make it hard to be certain, but Hoseok thinks he sees the first guard's body sprawled on the ground, limp.
So: he succeeded. For now, assuming he's not fatally injured, Jungkook is safe. Hoseok feels himself stagger, his stance unsteady, falling down again, the same knee back on the ground. The jolt of it enhances and forces him to register the persistent, burning pain in his gut, pain engulfing what feels like the entire middle right quadrant of his torso. That's from... he got hurt there? Like, a minute ago. The guy shot at him.
His vision goes a bit blurry and by the time he's blinked it clear again, Jungkook is right in front of him, bent at the waist to regard Hoseok at eye level, concern more obvious in his expression than physical discomfort. "Hyung." With the hand not holding the gun, Jungkook reaches out to gently grasp Hoseok's shoulder, more like the side of his arm.
“That was a close call,” Hoseok mutters.
“It's not over yet. We have to get out of here.” Jungkook – he’s right, it’s not over yet, and it’s good that he realizes it – glances around, scans the barely-moving bodies of the guards and the murky dark beyond. “I have no clue what's going on, but all that noise might have attracted attention. Is your radio broken, too?”
It is – or, it was, a few minutes ago. Hoseok nods, squeezing his eyes tightly shut to make the motion more bearable. “Yeah. Seemed like... some explosion. Knocked me out.”
“Me, too.” It’s kind of comforting, on the one hand, to hear that his experience wasn’t unique, wasn’t entirely in his own head; on the other hand, he wishes Jungkook could have escaped that unpleasantness somehow. “Hey, are you... Did you get hurt?”
Hoseok doesn’t think he can conceal it, so he moderates his admission. “Yeah, and so did you.”
“Well, kind of, but—"
Hoseok cuts him off. “Let’s head to the beach.” He can make it to the beach; he knows he can. Hoseok grits his teeth and pushes himself up, shocked by the pain that radiates out from his middle and seems to permeate his whole body from head to toe, but successfully standing, nonetheless.
“Um. If you’re sure…” Jungkook, backing away, doesn’t seem convinced that the conversation should end there – but Hoseok feels strengthened, warmed, fortified by his acceptance and level of trust. And it’s good to see the other walking, limping only a bit, faring much better than Hoseok feared.
All right. Come on. Jungkook is expecting him to follow. Hoseok steps forward with his right foot, and besides a new, uncomfortable stretching feeling, it’s not the worst; he steps forward with his left foot, and the pain that hits him is such that he immediately knows he won’t be able to do this all the way to the beach, or at least won’t be able to keep up the pace.
“Do you want me to carry you?” Jungkook asks, still watching him. “I’ll rephrase that. Please let me carry you.”
Hoseok doesn’t bother formulating a response. Gasping for breath, one big, painful lungful after another, he signals his acquiescence by tilting his head down, a useless half-nod. Actually, even if Jungkook's not hurt as badly as he could be, maybe he shouldn’t be carrying – but before the thought can go anywhere, before it can make itself useful, Jungkook appears in front of him again, squatting down and shifting his bag out of the way, offering his back for Hoseok to drape himself across.
And this should be simple – they’ve agreed on a course of action, and he understands what the next step is – but he hesitates. It’s… it’s not easy. He trusts Jungkook (well, to an extent. Trusts him enough) but he can’t help but wish – unreasonably, since he doesn’t want Jungkook to face this sort of helplessness and hurt – that their positions were flipped.
“Please? It’ll be faster this way.”
It will be, yeah. And he’s holding them back. Hoseok spurs himself into motion, tries to control his body’s movement, tries to mitigate the amount this will hurt him, but ultimately lands on Jungkook ungracefully, jarring his whole torso again; internally, he curses at himself, but externally he barely manages not to choke on a gasp, barely musters the wherewithal to hoist his limbs into the right positions, and barely notices when Jungkook's arms wrap under his knees and his feet lift off the ground, rising through the air.
Jungkook takes off at a moderate pace, not quite a jog – gentler than that. As he’s carried away, Hoseok's head hangs limp over the other’s shoulder, over the stiff material of his tactical vest. Rough fabric beneath his cheek, the smell of iron prickling the back of his throat, the hard edges of Jungkook's two-way radio and the other equipment attached to his belt digging into his thigh…
Maybe Hoseok should be listening to their surroundings – making himself useful, anything other than dead weight – but with the combination of sensations and chemicals firing through his brain it’s difficult to focus on anything other than himself. Difficult to focus on anything other than the specifics of his pain, how dramatically it differs from what happened to him (and to everyone else, apparently) half an hour ago. That intense external, nonsensical brightness, that overwhelming sensory input, blinding, incomprehensible, versus this, this pulsating, internal signal, an indicator that’s supposed to be helpful, a piece of information, burning, red-hot, his body yelling at him that it’s been damaged, demanding his attention.
Dark grass, bushes, rocks. His own feet, dangling, and Jungkook's, appearing and disappearing as he walks. Hoseok shuts his eyes. He could force himself to stay conscious for the entirety of this, he knows; it wouldn’t even be that hard. But he feels a persistent piece of the void beckoning from the front of his brain, from right behind his eyes, and he gives in, lets go of his nonexistent control and trusts; reaches for the darkness, even, gratefully, and seizes it.
It’s not a complete and total unawareness – he notices when Jungkook clears his throat, when he hoists Hoseok higher on his back (ouch), when the terrain underneath changes in auditory texture – but otherwise, he drifts, not bothering to track time, or space, or his own body. He does come back to himself a little at the sound and the motion of Jungkook pulling the camouflage tarp off of their boat, vaguely noting that it’s a good thing that they made it back to the beach, but still surprised when Jungkook begins to carefully lower him into the boat, hearing himself making some groggy noise of confusion and protest and clinging onto the vest in front of him.
“Sorry, sorry,” Jungkook breathes, freezing right away, suspending the both of them in place. “Are you okay?”
“Ah. Drifted off.”
“Sorry, I should have asked. Can I put you in the boat?” (All the apologies aren’t necessary or helpful, but Hoseok knows how it feels. If he had more energy, he’d be apologizing, too.)
“Yes…” It comes out as more of an affirmative croak, but Jungkook seems to understand, lowering him down little by little, the telltale thunking of his own boots against the side of the boat helping him mentally situate himself – although he quickly remembers he has the ability to open his eyes, which helps even more.
When he’s finally separated from Jungkook's back, it’s cold; but that feeling Is quickly overshadowed by the next, a pain he’s already familiar with, one that echoes through his whole body as he sinks to the bottom of the boat and settles there, not bothering with either of the benches, landing wherever he happens to land. So he sits on top of his collection of extra equipment and waits there for the feeling to pass.
And it does. He knew it would be temporary, and he tells himself that the pain lingering after a minute has gone by is actually an improvement over what he felt when he was being carried. This is better; it’s getting better.
“Um, we probably have a little window of time before anybody finds us…” From where he stands just on the other side of the hull, Jungkook looks down at him, frowning, obviously unsure. Oh, Hoseok can guess at what he might be thinking, the decision he’s struggling with. “Maybe I should try to take a look at—”
“I’m okay.” Hoseok cuts in with the firmest tone he can muster, attempting to recapture at least some of the responsibility, to take the choice out of Jungkook's hands. (Maybe he isn’t okay? But he’s not dying, at least. He remembers how it was with Seokjin – it was worse than this.) “Let’s get out of here before we do anything else.”
Jungkook's expression smooths out again to his previous level of concern, and he nods, reassured by Hoseok's little display of durability, his oversight. “And is it okay if I make noise, do you think?”
He takes a moment to consider. If one of the guards hears something, that means they’re likely too far from where their own boats are docked to come after them right away. “Yeah.”
As Jungkook pushes the boat down the rest of the way to the shore, Hoseok sits there gritting his teeth against the awful scratching and scraping of the boat against the rocks and tries to compose himself a little more, deep breaths in and out. Once the thing is pushed fully into the water, the noise stops, replaced by a gentle up-and-down bobbing that Hoseok greatly appreciates, relaxing further as Jungkook rotates their little vessel 180 degrees and then hops into the back of it, boots dripping seawater. “Is there anything special to start the motor?”
“No.”
“Mm.” A moment of quiet, only the waves and chirping of bugs and Jungkook fiddling with the starter, trying it a couple of times. “Ah, hyung?”
“It’s not working, is it.” Thinking of the radios, his cell phone, all the lights in the mansion, he doesn’t even express it as a question. If all those were affected by the explosion earlier, why would the boat not be?
“No…”
How miserable. He’d laugh if he weren’t so sure it would hurt. “Fuck.”
“We have the paddles, at least?” Jungkook points out, his brows furrowed with a determined look. “I can get us a bit farther away, and then we can try again, I guess?”
“That’s a good idea.” Since the disturbance they experienced seemed, possibly, constrained by geography, there’s always a chance it’ll work; and of course he believes they’ll get themselves out of this either way, but getting the motor back would obviously be best. “I’m just sorry I can’t… do more to help.” (If Sooyoung were here, she’d be cursing him out, whining and complaining – all lighthearted, not meant maliciously by any means, but the thought of playing along, of keeping up with her in a state like this, is tiring.)
Jungkook bends over and starts rummaging. “Don’t be silly, hyung… I think you’re sitting on the paddles, though.”
When Hoseok adjusts himself, he makes sure all the equipment is out of the way so he won’t have to move again, because it hurts. Jungkook seizes one of the paddles immediately and, pushing one end into the sand, uses the leverage to propel them further from the shore, continuing this step on alternating sides for as long as it’s feasible. Eventually (and after trying the motor again) he has to start paddling – which is slower, yes, but less strenuous, and quieter. (Not that there’s any choice.)
Hoseok's awareness is already slipping a little by the time Jungkook addresses him again. “You could drift off, if you want.”
That would be nice. “Aren’t you… supposed to be imploring the injured team member to, to stay awake? Isn’t that the trope?” He replies, sleepy, barely processing what he’s saying.
The sound of rowing comes to an abrupt stop. “But you said – you said you were fine?”
Oops. “I am!” Hoseok lifts his head and raises one placating hand. “I’m just teasing, sorry.”
That seems to do it. The paddling resumes, and Hoseok resumes his earlier position, too, so drained that he relaxes back into suspended alertness after only a few intentional breaths. It’s more peaceful out here than when he was riding on Jungkook's back – more monotonous, at least. He’d even venture to call it nice, were it not for the awful pain, the fact he’s making Jungkook do all the work, and the other unknown variables he’s not thinking too hard about. No, he’s pushing all of these things to the back of his mind… nothing can be done right now, it’s none of his concern – not at this particular moment.
He lets the time ebb away from him, lets the time flow forward towards the next hurdle - whatever it may be - that soon enough they’ll surely have to jump over: like when they pause to try the motor again and it doesn’t work, or when they’ll have to take stock of Hoseok's injuries and evaluate their urgency and it turns out none of their flashlights work, or when Jungkook's injuries knock him out of commission as well and they drift out into the open ocean… (at least they’ve got a compass…)
Because Jungkook was hurt, earlier, wasn’t he? He was definitely limping, Hoseok remembers that distinctly – but have they even addressed it? Properly, beyond acknowledging that something happened?
Hoseok opens his eyes, blinks. Whatever rest he was getting before has now fled, no hope of it returning until he asks about this a bit more. "Hey, Jungkook?"
Jungkook takes the opportunity to stop rowing, again. "Yeah."
He doesn't want to stutter or misarticulate; he speaks slowly enough that it feels like he has full control over his mouth. "Do you know... I should have asked about this sooner, but do you have a sense of how badly you're hurt? Or specifically what..."
"What happened? Uh, I haven't really looked closely at it."
Both of them look down at Jungkook's legs. Even as close as they are, in this darkness, he can't tell which one sustained the injury – but Jungkook does know, and, carefully balancing the paddle so it doesn't fall into the water, he takes hold of some preexisting tear in his pant leg and rips it further open, exposing the wound concealed underneath.
"Oh, good! I was only grazed, see?" Hoseok does see. He swallows, both relieved and queasy and angered at the sight of the gash there. Jungkook pokes at it – he probably shouldn't be doing that – hissing once but otherwise silent; when he pulls his fingers away, they're clearly slick with blood.
"And you carried me to the boat. Ah..." Fucking shit. "Even if it’s not our biggest issue, we should deal with that sooner rather than later," he suggests, in lieu of anything more colorful.
Jungkook's smile is more of a grimace as he picks up the paddle and starts rowing again, avoiding eye contact. "It's still not our biggest issue, though! You really need proper medical attention, I think. Once we get far enough away we can try to see if there's anything we can do. And we can deal with my stupid leg."
"How far is far enough away?"
"I don’t know – I wanna get to where I can't see the island anymore, through binoculars…" Hoseok nods his assent. If they can't see the island, the inhabitants probably can't see them, either. "Um, hyung – does it hurt a lot?"
What a question. Hoseok almost laughs – in what world would he reply to that with a yes? “Less than before. Getting… better.” (Ridiculous. Of course it’s not actually getting better, not miraculously healing; he does feel less overwhelmed now, though, which is something. Not a total fabrication.) Jungkook, maybe realizing the pointlessness of what he asked, doesn’t respond.
Every so often – Hoseok wishes he brought along an analog watch, although he supposes there’s no guarantee that would work, either – Jungkook stops, tests the motor, and checks the view of the island. As Hoseok expected, the motor never does start working; inevitably, though, the island’s blobby shadow can no longer be distinguished from the skyline, and Jungkook temporarily sets the paddle aside and kneels next to Hoseok in the bottom of the boat so ‘their biggest issue’ can be addressed.
“It’s somewhere… around here.” With his left index finger, Hoseok gestures to the right side of his torso, circling the area that hurts the most. Jungkook follows the motion with his eyes, frowning, grim. He wishes he could say something else, give more information, but there’s not much to work with, just a span of dark fabric, wrinkled at random intervals.
“Maybe you should lie down?”
“Ah…” With the understanding of how painful it will be, it takes him a second to agree to it, nodding eventually – Jungkook wouldn’t ask him to move if he didn’t think the effort would pay off, so. It’s a tradeoff.
“Okay. Just, try to relax, I guess – I’ll –”
Hoseok lets himself be moved, Jungkook grabbing his shoulders, the lack of surface friction in the aluminum making it relatively easy – not painless, but easy – to scoot him forward and rotate him so he’s facing the fore. For a moment, he’s paused there, sitting and waiting and observing the stars everywhere overhead, hearing Jungkook rummaging through the supplies and repositioning himself, but before a full minute has passed he feels arms supporting his upper back, warm.
“You can fall,” Jungkook says – but it isn’t a fall, really, as securely held as he is all the way down. His head lands on a more soft, more elevated surface than he expected – Jungkook's thigh? Probably. And of course it hurts – how could it not? – but he’s nowhere near passing out. “Is that comfortable?”
“Mm.”
As Jungkook leans over and studies his torso, Hoseok remains calm, distracts himself by observing the man hovering above him: the nonfunctioning headset dangling around Jungkook's neck, wires narrowly avoiding Hoseok's face; the long strands of hair having come loose from his ponytail, chaotic but still somehow pretty, especially when he tucks the mess impatiently behind his ears; the smears of what might be dirt or grease, but is probably blood, left on the side of his face; his expression of intense focus as he tries to discern what he can do to help… and Hoseok is so grateful, so, so grateful – that he isn’t alone, that he’s stuck with somebody who actually cares about him.
“I can see where you were hit.” Jungkook breaks the silence, speaking quietly. “There’s a tear in your vest; but I don’t think it’s really bled through. Not very much, at least.”
“’s on snug,” Hoseok says about the vest.
“So, I’m not sure if…” Right. The compression of the vest is an advantage, as much as any other measure they could take, out here, with limited supplies, without even having light. “I don’t want you to bleed out if I take it off. You know?”
“Leave it on.”
He can tell Jungkook is unsatisfied – it isn’t like Hoseok is happy with it, either. Everything about this is non-ideal. (Although he can’t deny his relief, grasping at the prospect of temporarily avoiding what would have been – still will be, if they can’t get to any professional – a difficult, painful, and icky medical process.) Jungkook toys with the hole in the vest, lightly. “I can’t really disinfect your wound with it like this, though. I… could pour some clean water over you, I guess? It seems silly…” But shouldn’t we do something? remains unsaid. Hoseok understands the feeling.
“I think it’ll be okay if we just leave it for now…” He repeats himself, slowly and clearly, trying to seem certain. And even if Jungkook isn’t fully convinced – and he shouldn’t be, really – he still seems willing to respect Hoseok's expressed desires.
Jungkook leans back and, after scanning up and down his body one last time, finally meets Hoseok's gaze. “I don’t like the idea of walking into a hospital with you still wearing this,” he points out – and, yeah. This getup will definitely raise eyebrows, raise questions… “But my roommates are a little more well-versed in medical stuff, and they’re not… not that far, if we can just get you there.”
Hoseok nods his agreement. “Right.”
“Okay.” Jungkook leans away even further, disappearing from Hoseok's field of view, reaching for something on his other side. “I’m going to… work on my leg now.”
“Good. Let me know if I can help.”
Not bothering to tilt his head more than what's comfortable, Hoseok observes passively, and mostly by listening. He waits, patient, lulled into an almost-dreamlike state by the boat's gentle rocking and the sounds of zipping and unzipping, crinkling, uncapping, tearing, sounds following one after another in quick succession, a lack of hesitation suggesting to him Jungkook's confidence in what steps ought to be taken; and maybe Hoseok isn't completely, mentally present, not as much as he usually would be, but as of yet – and maybe this is more indicative of his own limitations – he hasn't noted Jungkook doing anything incorrect...
"Wow," he murmurs, kind of to himself but not really. "Seokjin-hyung raised you well."
The sequence of productive noises pauses, Jungkook's thigh beneath his head briefly tensing and breaking Hoseok out of that feeling of unreality. He wants to curl up into a ball and disappear. Fucking hell. He shouldn't have said that; neither of them want to talk about or think about that; and hopefully it'll be dropped quickly, forgotten, but the topic has already been broached and damage has already been done.
"I know – I'm grateful." Jungkook's tone is lighter, more offhand than Hoseok would have expected; it's really not possible for him to tell what the other is feeling. It's uncomfortable, but he just needs to play along so they can quickly change the subject. "But, really, hyung – is that all I am to you still? After everything we've been through today?"
"No!" Oh, ouch, that was emphatic enough to strain his side. Nevertheless, he draws a smile onto his face, both laughing at himself for what he’s about to say and preemptively demonstrating the intended levity of it. "No; but you aren’t just some hot guy, either. There’s context, there’s layers."
"Oh." Reappearing in his field of view, big eyes peer down at Hoseok as if checking for his sincerity, a seemingly unguarded expression of surprise. "Well... I'm glad?"
Hoseok doesn't reply, and Jungkook doesn't say anything more – good. Crisis averted. Or, mitigated. Already close to done, Jungkook goes back to bandaging himself up, quickly finishing up whatever series of tasks he decided was necessary, putting away the supplies, and sitting in silence for a long minute before sighing.
“I should start rowing again.” Jungkook states it as a fact, but he doesn't move to get up; it’s as if he needs a moment, or more than a moment, to prepare himself to restart.
"You could rest for another few minutes, if you want." Hoseok thinks that if he was the one trying to row all the way from the island to the mainland under semi-urgent conditions, he wouldn't feel free to rest unless he was totally alone – only accountable for himself – or unless someone else encouraged him to. "We've been through a lot, but we might – there still may be more to come," he adds by way of justification. "You shouldn't over-exert yourself."
"Would that really be okay?"
"Give it another five minutes; we can't get too lost in five minutes."
"Mmkay." Jungkook exhales a deep sigh. "Five minutes."
While Hoseok remains carefully still, the body beneath his head shifts as Jungkook attempts to make himself more comfortable. And Hoseok can’t exactly see what he’s trying to do, but he assumes the other is successful, the noise and motion of rearrangement ceasing after a few moments. After another sigh, this one sounding a bit further away than the last, Hoseok feels a… hand? barely detectable at first, fiddling tentatively with his hair, fingers twisting gently around strands, a palm ghosting over the top of his head. (His headset, he realizes, must have fallen off somewhere along the way.) And the feeling is nice, actually – ‘nice’ might be underselling it – genuinely so heavenly that he, without bothering to second-guess himself, nudges his head closer, trying to wordlessly indicate his preference.
Obliging, the motions soon apply themselves with more pressure, more confidence. Pain notwithstanding, if it was physically possible, Hoseok thinks this would be the perfect moment to melt into a puddle of warm goo.
“It must be difficult,” Jungkook says, “to not think of hyung, whenever I’m around. Right?”
Oh.
Damn it. He took it for granted that they’d left the topic of Seokjin behind. (His bullet-dodging track record tonight is pretty dreadful.) He swallows.
“Honestly,” he starts – because if anyone deserves his honesty regarding Seokjin, Jungkook does – “Yes. I… might be able to get over it, eventually; but for now, that’s kind of just how it is.”
“Because that was the only context you ever knew me in,” Jungkook offers – not like he’s trying to put words in Hoseok's mouth, it seems, but more like he’s really trying to understand. And he’s probably right.
“I think so. Is it…” He trails off as the thought solidifies in his brain, in his mouth, an unpleasant taste. The unpleasant thought of Jungkook, at various events, while feeling something similar, even remotely similar, to what Hoseok was feeling, yet pushing through and trying to approach him, or even just trying to make eye contact – no, that doesn’t seem possible. His left arm reaches up above his head to take Jungkook's hand in his own, ignoring the twinge of extra pain, preemptively comforting. “Is it the same way for you?”
“No, I think my brain associates you with Yoongi-hyung more than anyone else.”
Oh, good. That’s good. Hoseok exhales and gives himself a moment to digest, wiggling his fingers to tighten his grip on Jungkook's hand, before continuing to explain. “It’s easier, though, if I already know I’m going to see you. Like, tonight, for example. It wasn’t really…” He’s not sure how, or if, he should put it – I wasn’t forced back into the worst day of my life, it wasn’t earth-shatteringly awful, it didn’t ruin my week? So he says nothing.
“Oh; I guess that makes sense.” Jungkook's voice is still casual, and Hoseok can’t empathize any more than he can detect whether it’s a front. “Because you had an opportunity to kind of… mentally brace yourself for it?”
“I don’t know what it is, exactly. But, based on this week, maybe we should contact each other in advance about what big work events we’re going to,” Hoseok says, thinking aloud.
“I’d still be contacting you unexpectedly,” Jungkook points out. “But you think that might be better?”
“Yeah.” Reliving his trauma among all his coworkers is worse than anywhere else, besides perhaps in the field. “And… maybe, if we communicated back and forth about other random stuff, too…” Which would be nice for multiple reasons, actually. “That would help? I’m sorry, I realize I’m asking for a lot—"
“No!” Jungkook reacts physically to that, his grip tightening, raising his voice in protest. “Hyung, please don’t feel bad about asking for what you need. It’s-it’s impossible to emerge totally unaffected by all the violence we’ve been exposed to. Unwillingly exposed to. I just think… people like us should be banding together, and-and trying to support each other.”
That’s kind of compelling, beyond the fact that some of the Family’s coerced thugs are total assholes, and the fact that Jungkook still doesn’t owe him any emotional labor. “You know, I think you’re right. Some kind of… fucked-up, unfortunate brotherhood.”
Jungkook's giggle gives him the courage he needs to press the topic further.
“Although, I can’t help but be reminded of what I just learned, this week, talking to Yoongi-hyung – about how he’d reached out to offer you help,” he says, “to expedite paying the debt they’re holding over your head – and I’m sorry for avoiding you and not doing the same – but you… refused? Does that… is that something that happened?”
Jungkook sighs and doesn’t offer a denial. “At that time, I felt like – and I still kind of think – if he had that cash he was willing to spend, it would be… better… to save somebody else? Like, someone who wasn’t already” (voice breaking here, Jungkook continues somewhat more timidly) “completely traumatized or, who hadn’t lived their whole life in the underworld and had some hope of, of escaping from it if a savior swooped in soon enough.”
Oh, that’s ugly. An ugly set of thoughts – not that Jungkook should be ashamed of having them, and he certainly doesn’t want to discourage him from sharing; but Hoseok wants to leap up from where he lies – he knows he can’t, and he isn’t going to try, but he wants to – and smother him, hold onto him so so tightly and not let Jungkook go until he’s knocked more sense and more self-advocacy into his head. As it is, though, his best option is probably to share his own, honest opinion, maybe to respond to what Jungkook said piece by piece.
An effective refutation will require a lot of focus on his part.
“It’s true that there are other people, in this same situation, who don’t deserve to be,” he acknowledges. “And you’re right that… swooping in and saving some naïve, semi-innocent kid, about to be coopted into a life of crime, would be objectively a good thing. Maybe hyung and I should start doing that, if and when we’re wealthy enough – but what you have to understand, is–” Hoseok pauses for a second, catching his breath and suppressing his awareness of his pain. “We care about you. Right? We might empathize with the others, but they aren’t…” They’re not mine. (Dear god, that’s presumptuous. It’s not like Jungkook is his in any way.) “They’re not our friend, our brother, in the same way – and yes, obviously you’ve been around a lot of violence already; but even so, maybe because of that, we desperately want to help you, and, and to see you choose the way you live, and to keep you safe. Are we wrong for wanting any of that?”
Ah, that was a lot. Maybe even too much? Jungkook's small, whispered ‘no’ seems to say he’s clearly affected, perhaps even overwhelmed to an extent, but there’s more Hoseok is dying to say.
“Maybe it seems like a lost cause, but you could distance yourself from this and live a mostly normal life. You could,” he insists. “I could have – I had the option once I paid off my debt – and just because I chose to remain inside, continue doing what I think I’m good at and not bother with all of the work of crafting a new identity – because it is hard – that doesn’t mean I couldn’t have done it. I could have. Don’t you agree?”
“I… Y-yeah.”
“So you can, too.” Inarguably. Hoseok doesn’t have any particular advantage that Jungkook doesn’t.
“I almost had it, before. When I went back to my grandparents’ place,” Jungkook murmurs, barely audible. “But the Family started harassing them for the rest of our dad’s debt that hyung hadn’t paid…”
“That’s how you got dragged back in?” Hoseok wasn’t familiar with the story, although what Jungkook described isn’t far from what he would have imagined. “That must have been… hard.”
“Yeah.”
“If you try again, we’ll make sure it sticks.” That’s a promise, a firm commitment, even if he can’t bring himself to say it out loud. “Please, I would really like for you to accept our help. Just because you said no, before, that doesn’t mean it’s too late.”
Water laps placidly against the side of the boat, but otherwise, it’s quiet. Off in the distance, the stars are veiled by wispy clouds, but the not-quite-full moon still shines down on them prominently, unobscured.
“I… I’ll think about it,” Jungkook finally says. “Now that you’ve brought it up again, I’ll be thinking about it. That’s really all I can say for sure.”
Fine. To Hoseok, it sounds like a ‘no’ – it’s what he’d say, himself, by way of rejection, at least – but can he really expect Jungkook to agree all of a sudden, without giving it proper consideration? Isn’t this what a ‘yes’ sounds like, too?
“But you’re not just saying this out of guilt, right?”
Guilt? Hoseok swallows, and he disentangles his hand from Jungkook's grip, bringing his arm back down to his side. It’s a difficult subject, one he’d prefer to avoid – and shouldn’t that be obvious? Why would Jungkook bring it up? “I – didn’t I just say—”
“I believe you!” Jungkook interrupts before Hoseok can reiterate any version of his previous ‘we care about you’ sentiments. “But also, you can’t deny there’s some sense of obligation surrounding what you’re saying. I know it’s not just the, um, trauma from physical violence, that you’re, that’s, – well, look.” Jungkook cuts himself off with a frustrated huff, Hoseok drowning in unpleasant, nervous anticipation. “Yoongi-hyung told me you still blame yourself for what happened.”
“He did?” Shit, that bastard – and he means it affectionately. Just how much has he been concealing?
“Please don’t be upset with him! Or, I guess that’s your choice, but – he came apologizing on your behalf for the way you were avoiding me,” Jungkook explains. Hoseok closes his eyes. “He didn’t want me to think you were just being an asshole – although that wasn’t what I would have thought, I already figured it had something to do with… yeah.” Through the haze of trepidation and mild annoyance clouding his emotions, there bursts a sudden, little spot of warmth and affection; he can’t help but feel gratitude that Yoongi tried to protect and maintain his relationships – even if it was behind his back – and that Jungkook gave him the benefit of the doubt so readily. “I shouldn’t assume, though,” Jungkook continues, musing. “I guess maybe you’ve overcome whatever you were feeling, back then—"
“I haven’t.” It comes out a bit more bitterly than intended, but it comes out, that’s what’s important, because Jungkook, if he wants to know, deserves to know.
“Oh.” Maybe Jungkook expected he’d need to press harder for a straight answer. “Well, I wanted to tell you what it looks like, from my perspective?”
Eyes still squeezed tightly shut, Hoseok doesn’t say anything. Fine. Just, please, don’t lie to me.
“I don’t know, maybe you can’t help but to feel guilty – survivor’s guilt, right? That’s a real phenomenon. But from my perspective, out of all the people I direct my anger towards, who I blame for what happened, you’re basically at the bottom of the list.” Jungkook speaks with what sounds like complete certainty, and Hoseok has no reason not to believe he feels like this… “Way below the Family, who put him and you in that situation; way below whoever you were up against; way below our dad. Basically, you were on his side when almost everyone else was effectively against him.”
You were on his side. The words dance around him, circling him and laughing, sinister. You were on his side.
“Hyung?”
He clears his throat. “Sorry. This is difficult for me to talk about.”
“You don’t… you don’t have to,” Jungkook offers. “I’ve already said my piece, so.”
“No, no, I want to clarify. Everything you just said… I have no rebuttal, because you’re right. But on the other hand, my feelings aren’t suddenly going to change. It’s just… it’s different.” He tugs at his lower lip with his teeth, wondering if he’s really going to voice this aloud. (He is. Now, but hopefully, never again. Monotone.) “It’s the fact that Seokjin-hyung and I, we relied on each other, back then, to keep each other safe. But I obviously failed. That trust was destroyed. Even if I wasn’t the instigating force, I don’t think my guilt is irrational, in that sense…” He frowns, opening his eyes slightly but not seeing, too busy re-analyzing what he just said. “Or maybe it is irrational. I… try not to think about it, but maybe I should.”
Jungkook doesn’t reply right away, probably doesn’t know what to say to that. Hoseok exhales, relieved and also feeling kind of proud of himself, having gotten through what he wanted to say.
“And – thank you,” he adds. “It was good to hear you describe the way you see it, I think.”
“I don’t think we could have hung out with each other for long without discussing all of this stuff.”
Hoseok chuckles – again, a mistake, pain flaring in his side. “I really would have tried to.”
With that, he pulls a little laugh from Jungkook as well, the other then exhaling and pushing himself back to his original sitting position, where Hoseok can see him massage his forehead with his palm, see him push a hand through his messy hair. “Fuck, I think it’s been more than five minutes.”
Hoseok manages to hold himself back from apologizing for nothing, makes no comment as Jungkook gently replaces the leg under his head with what must be one of their bags. Doesn’t comment as Jungkook once again takes up his position on the boat’s rear bench and the soothingly rhythmic sound of his paddling resumes.
They probably did talk for longer than they should have, but there’s no changing that, now. Oh, well. At least Jungkook's arms could take a rest.
It’s surprisingly easy not to dwell on those topics he doesn’t want to think about. He’s exhausted, more than he was before their conversation, as if it was the simple act of talking and thinking that drained him so completely. (It was, though. He knows it was.)
(But if Jungkook is as tired as this, then… then what? Then…)
“Hyung?”
Fuck. Hoseok jolts awake, uncomfortably disoriented, awareness of his surroundings and his pain flooding back into him all at once; and then he coughs, which makes it hurt even more. “Nngh?”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he grunts.
“Sorry about that. I didn’t want to disturb you, but… I found land? I don’t think you’ll like it, though.”
Land. Oh, finally. Land is good.
Why won’t he like it, though? He starts to get up, braces his hands in place next to his torso so he can push himself into a sitting position, but Jungkook rushes to stop him. “Wait, wait, you don’t have to do that. I didn’t mean to create suspense – the problem is that it’s all… dark?”
“Seriously? No light at all?” In his addled state, he can barely conceptualize what that would look like – or, no, he can. It would look kind of like the shoreline of the private island as they left it, earlier.
“Uh, not that I could see. I tried the binoculars, too.”
He opens his mouth to ask… something, ask whatever it would make sense to ask, but instead coughs again. “Where… is my bag?”
“Do you want water? Oh, we should have been keeping you more hydrated…”
Yes, he does want water. Again ever-so-careful, Jungkook moves the backpack in question closer and also helps him drink, supporting his head, holding the water bottle in place.
And second by second, it’s like he can feel his mind clearing. (Unfortunately, he doesn’t like the clear picture any more than he liked the blurry one.)
“So, that blast, explosion, thing, that occurred on the island. It must have affected this whole area,” he reasons aloud after Jungkook moves away.
“I guess. I don’t know why else…” Right. “And I’m not sure where to go next. Nothing looks familiar…”
“Can you help me up?” Hoseok asks. “I want to take a look.”
Jungkook helps him, of course, pulling him up and spinning him ninety degrees so he can rest against the side of the boat again. Even with prior knowledge of how much it will hurt, it’s still agony all the same. Taking (relatively) deep breaths kind of helps, and so does Jungkook's lingering, concerned grip on his shoulder; deep breaths, until the pain recedes back to its normal level, at which point he can shoot Jungkook an appreciative glance and take in the rest of the view.
And, huh. The shoreline’s barely perceptible against the surrounding ocean and sky, but it’s not terribly far away, either, the shapes of individual trees and boulders just discernible in the light of the moon. Just as he feared, though, the motley collection of shapes doesn’t give up any real clues. If he has seen this area before, he’s seen it in such dramatically different lighting that at this moment he has no clue where they are, doesn’t even know in which direction they ought to paddle to get back to their starting point, the motorcycle, the pickup truck… and who’s to say those things weren’t broken by the same apocalyptic phenomenon that destroyed their other electronics? Ah, fuck.
“I don’t recognize any of this, either,” he admits. “So this isn’t ideal.” It’s frightening, frankly – because what if everything is broken, everywhere? How are they going to get themselves proper medical care, how long will it take, and how long can he even last? “But – but it’s not like we’re in the middle of nowhere,” he says, a reassurance mostly aimed at himself. “It’s not impossible to find out where we are. We just might have to… find the next available place to come ashore, and then try to find the main road on foot.”
Glancing up to gauge Jungkook's opinion, he finds the other already frowning down at him, clearly thinking hard about… about something. He can’t help but be surprised at the nervousness that frown induces in him. There are other ways to go about this, is the thing; and Jungkook owes him nothing. Maybe he shouldn’t be so quick to assume the other, with his injured leg, is going to be willing to carry him any distance, at all, whatsoever. Maybe that isn’t even the best and safest strategy, although Hoseok thinks he wouldn’t necessarily feel any safer, waiting in the boat for Jungkook, or for anyone, to come back and rescue him.
“I think that will work,” Jungkook finally says, just as Hoseok is about to open his mouth and apologize for making assumptions. “We can head in whatever direction we think will lead us getting help faster, and… and maybe we can even hitch a ride from somebody.”
Hoseok nods, relieved, and Jungkook takes up the paddle again before setting it down again, frowning, as if struck by yet another thought.
“In any case, hyung, I want you to know,” he says, dead serious, “that I am not leaving you. I’m not leaving you behind. Maybe we don’t know what we’ll find out there, but we’ll go together, no matter what, until it’s safe. Okay?”
Hoseok stays still and silent for a moment, afraid of what weird sound is going to come out of his mouth as he tries to keep himself from crying, as he tries desperately to rein in his emotions. As the thought, something he cannot imagine himself saying aloud, strikes him - I love you so much, already, in a way that’s at the same time wistful, and terrifying, and optimistic. I wish I could look after you right now with as much care as you’ve shown me tonight. “Thank you,” is what he finally settles on. The truth, but also the bare minimum. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Oh, don’t be silly,” Jungkook scolds. He starts rowing again, the fact obvious enough from the sound of the paddle hitting the water, the feeling of being propelled forward – but Hoseok doesn’t see any of that. (All he sees is the scrunch of Jungkook's nose and his small, tentative smile.) “There’s only one real option, anyways. Let’s just go!”