Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Book Two Release Date: October 2025

Which Side Are You On? 

_________________________________________

Setting sun cast stripes across the ornate wooden banisters and blue sprawling rugs. Dust floated through the beams to rest on aged surfaces, untouched and unbothered. That was until the cleaning staff moved in, rags gentle and loving as they caressed the lines and curves of the shelves–the swooping body of the guitar that stood in the corner or the delicate neck of a violin. Whatever they touched was wiped clean, the last run through before darkness fully settled and they were free to return home.

The house was empty, yet somehow the needle of the Victrola always managed to bounce along the worn-out grooves of a frail record, calling out with fuzzy lyrics to fill its melancholy and dreary emptiness. It creaked and wept with loneliness. Like the beams that held it up moped with curved spines and drooping frowns, for there was no one to run through its halls and serenade it with laughter. The children it devoted its life to house and nurture were gone.

The cleaning staff moved quickly, sweeping through the house without exchanging a word with each other. Everyone wanted to leave. No one wanted to bear witness to the house's inevitable tantrum, where it would implode from the force of its own misery, taking anyone left inside down with it.

Their headlights sliced through the twilight, the incoming darkness looming over them not a threat–but a promise to deliver. The last of their vehicles turned down the winding hillside and vanished onto the main road with a left-handed turn, leaving the house behind until morning. Pale yellow high beams filtering through the trees, too far away to catch the outlines of the figures that blurred through the trees in a blind terror.

Wet sneakers hit cold, damp soil, beating it to a pulp in their haste to tear across the fallen leaves and broken branches. From all sides, Y/n could barely hear the stampede of feet that followed her over the rasp of her own labored breathing, and she prayed–for the first time since her childhood she really prayed–that all of them were still running.

She whipped her head to the side as she ran, barely catching a glimpse of Taehyung keeping step with her, clothes splattered with browns and a red that made her skin crawl. That pushed her feet forward faster. She didn’t dare call out for him, or anyone for that matter.

There was no way to see who was still left without giving themselves away.

“Hide!” A voice hissed from her side, a hand encircling her wrist and yanking her behind the thick trunk of a tree.

Y/n barely held back a scream, or the proceeding sobs of relief that threatened to break through when she registered Yoongi’s face staring back at her, eyes compelling her to stay quiet. Sweat made his skin glisten and dirt stick to his skin, but his expression was riddled with barely contained fear. From her peripheral vision, she could see Taehyung mimic her actions, pressing himself flat against a neighboring tree on her left-hand side and trying to silence his own breathing.

Y/n didn’t even realize Yoongi's palm had been pressed to her lips until it slipped back down to his side, digging into his pocket to pull out their handgun, the metal shaking in his hands.

Y/n looked around him, a new wave of relief washing over her when she met Jungkook’s burning gaze from where he peaked around the tree to their right. His chest rising and falling rapidly like all of theirs was, his hunting rifle pointed towards the ground, entwined with the first webs of black smoke that started to leak from his palms and coiled around the finger lever that he pushed back to load his next shot.

She did not see anyone else.

A ragged wheezing approached from where they had just run from, staggering steps slopping against muddy earth, punctuated by beastly snarls. Y/n looked back to Taehyung who mouthed to her a phrase that filled her belly with doom.

‘Hold your breath.’

Y/n wanted to cry–her lungs burned and her body ached, her legs threatening to collapse out from beneath her at any given moment. But she did it, sucking in her last deep breath and holding it, watching Yoongi and Jungkook do the same.

The creature closed in, their steps nearly behind the tree her and Yoongi stood against. A whimper tried to crawl its way out of her throat but died on her thinly pressed lips, and as though pulled by a magnetic force, her eyes gravitated back to Jungkook. The eight-foot gap between their trees felt wider than an ocean, but his energy steadily ebbed across from it like he was standing just beside her, his voice echoing in her mind.

‘Just look at me. Don’t turn around–just keep looking at me.’

Y/n did as she was told, even as Jungkook knocked the buttplate of his rifle on his shoulder and aimed the barrel at something behind her.

‘Don’t move.’

It was painfully quiet. All of their breathing stifled by their own fists, and their pursuer’s footfalls stopped. Y/n could feel her hovering right over the edge of the tree and Yoongi stilled, knuckles white around the handle of his gun.

Feel her breath hitting the back of her neck.

Jungkook’s finger rested on the trigger, his face starting to turn red from lack of oxygen. Y/n didn’t know how much longer she could hold her own breath–a pressure starting to build in her chest that threatened to pull her under.

Jungkook pulled the trigger, and Y/n’s head vibrated from the aftershocks of the thunderous crack, air whizzing past her ears. She stood perfectly still as her vision began to blur, counting the shots as they went by.

One.

A shrill cry responded to the sound immediately, the woman behind her howling out as the first shot sliced through her flesh.

Two.

Something hot splattered across Y/n’s back, burning through her sweater and sizzling against her skin. Another growl ripped from the demon’s throat that forced Y/n to clasp her hands over her ears to keep them from bleeding.

Three.

Then there was nothing.

Chapter Text

Kitchens are a place of solace; home to connection of the deepest nature–places to create, to nourish, and to love. This one was no exception. With walls painted a pale blue, and decorated with all of the classic oceanic themed wall hangings a beach rental had to offer: white starfish models, seashells, and an abhorrent amount of kitschy signs with phrases that are meant to be inspiring, but end up coming across as borderline dubious in nature. All of which was lit up by dimmed overhead lights and thrown open windows, blasting them with fresh salty air, and the crash of distant waves pummeling down upon the sand. And to go the extra mile, Ella Fitzgerald serenaded them at a low volume while they worked, tying the dreamy atmosphere up with a silk bow.

The men moved around in a coordinated dance to her song, wielding sharp knives and sliding past each other to stir sizzling ingredients like this domesticity was second nature. Jungkook’s hair was tied back to keep any long strands from getting in between him and perfectly julienned bell-peppers, while Taehyung’s had started to grow fuller in recent weeks, the longest parts just barely curling around the cusps of his ears becoming his favorite thing to complain about–yet not long enough to have to pull back with anything other than a clip in the front if their meal was particularly messy. Right now, he was running one of his hands through it and humming along to the familiar tune, carefully observing the meat he had been cooking all morning. The recipe came straight from his uncle and he was determined to do it justice.

Everyone was anxious. The tension showed up in Taehyung’s tousled hair and Jungkook’s perfectionistic approach to sliced vegetables, a sense of needing to keep them even making his brow furrow with his unbroken concentration. Hoseok and Yoongi were dragged to the shore by Jimin, and Namjoon was getting in his much needed rest on one of the reclining porch chairs, the book he had intended to read propped open over his face to shield the sun from his eyes while he napped. Every five minutes or so, Y/n would see him jolt to life from the window, lifting the corner of the book to check and see if Jin’s car had arrived in the driveway yet while he was asleep.

So much for his rest, Y/n mused to herself, hands picking distractedly at the edge of the dining room table.

Though Y/n couldn’t be one to talk–she had barely slept since her phone call with Jin two weeks prior. He wasn’t able to come out right away, he needed to “get things in order” as he had mysteriously ended the call with, sharing that he would reach out to them at a later date with his expected arrival. Well, that notice had come in the form of a text early that mornin. And if her math was right he was set to get here any minute, joining the group of them for dinner to hopefully try and get some questions answered.

Her mothers revelations left them all confused and reeling, bouncing off one theory after the next, moving like she hadn’t given them any answers at all. Never had it crossed their minds these past nearly 6 months that she could be helping them–it was too hard to turn off the hatred they all had brewed for her so easily. Their distrust for her was held hostage in their gut, their self-preservation instincts clawing to it and refusing to let go. Because if they did let go, it meant they had to face the reality of having nothing.

Whatever Jin had to say had the power to twist their hesitation into compassion or further their disdain, and only time would tell which one would reign the champion.

Y/n’s leg bounced, watching Jungkook and Taehyung toss vegetables in spices and oils until they glistened in her peripheral vision. The only thing she could stay focused on long enough was one of the ridiculous signs strung up between the basement door and the hallway leading from the kitchen to the front door. It was the group's current favorite thing to mock: a little white ship sailing in front of a sunset that had been edited to oblivion, the entire photo looking like it had been through a printer from 2010 and got stuck there with its high saturation and blown out pixels. Below it in cursive font read “When the waves knock you down, don’t rush to get back up, but instead learn to swim towards the light~”. It made Hoseok laugh out loud when he had first noticed it. For one, it makes almost no sense; and two, he immediately interpreted it as ‘hey, when you get knocked down, don’t get up–die!’. Which has become their running joke as of late whenever any minor inconvenience occurs.

But right now, Y/n looks at it with new understanding. (Desperation does that to a person–makes them relate to cringey inspo-porn and Dolly Parton quotes–she realized with a grim shake of her head). It did sound pretty tempting to dive head first into the ocean and let the waves suffocate her so she wouldn’t have to deal with the anticipation of Jin's arrival. Most importantly, she couldn’t wait for Matilda to stop her incessant demands for him.

She wasn’t allowed in the house, but she would show her face on the stoop regularly with pounding fists and howling winds until Jimin would call out to her with a “He isn’t coming today!”, and only then would she stop. Maybe her impatience was infecting them all, crawling beneath their skin until it hummed in their skull like a hoard of bees, not letting them rest.

Y/n tore her eyes from the dingy boat and looked out the window towards the shore line, her eyes just barely able to make out Jimin and Hoseok’s distant figures bobbing in the gentle waves. She probably should’ve gone out with them, it would’ve helped her sooth her nervous system enough to lower her new resting heartrate.

An engine rumbled down the uneven driveway, sitting idle for a few moments before cutting out. The heads being battered by the sea moved erratically back to the shore until their bodies became visible, the group of them rushing to towel off and climb back up through the sands to the house. Namjoon’s book fell from his face and clattered to the ground, while the cutting board Jungkook was washing slipped through his fingers and clanged into the sink, eyes dark and locked on the front door.

“He’s here.”

Time was a blur after the front door opened, lost in the middle of tense greetings, metal forks scraping against glass plates, glasses chuffing wooden tables, and the words left unspoken that lingered over them in a heavy cloud. Jin was more soft spoken than what was usual for him, head tilted down towards his plate, his bangs tousled from the open windows of his drive and cheeks nipped pink from the wind. No one had the guts to say much other than the common pleasantries that come with showing someone to their room and serving them a hot meal. There was just too much to say. Too many questions to ask that she didn’t even have the words for.

Y/n made eye contact with Yoongi over a bite of a spiced blanched spinach, the stormy look in his eyes telling her that he was feeling the same way she was. The greens tasted sharp in her mouth, fresh garlic and chilli coating her tongue enough of an excuse to keep from speaking for just a few more seconds. She told herself she was savoring the flavor, though her teeth had ground the leaves to almost nothing in her mouth. She was stalling.

Jin lowered his utensils to his plate, letting his wrist wrest on the edge while he peered over at her. Knowing. Always knowing. “You can ask me whatever you’d like. I know you probably have a lot of questions.”

“How long?” Y/n blurted out, surprising herself with how quickly she had something to say. “How long did you know?”

Jin maintained their eyecontact. “Since the day she died.”

Y/n let her eyes slip closed, her fist clenched around her chopsticks until one almsot splintered. “Why didn’t you say anything? Tell anyone?”

“I did.” Jin cleared his throat and lined his utensils up neatly on the napkin next to him. “I told my parents. And your mom.” Y/n opened her eyes to look at him–really look at him–his hands shook as he folded them over one another on the table, and his lips were red and swollen from how much he chewed on the insides of them. “I actually warned them the night before that something was going to happen. And I hold so much guilt that I didn’t push harder. That I didn’t stop them from taking her out of the house that night. I didn’t know it was–”Jin bowed his head down, his hands falling into his lap. “I owe your parents. I failed my divinity. I failed my family. And now I have to pay for it. Repent.”

“What does that mean?” Y/n croaked across the table to him.

“It’s a long story…” Jin tailed off with a weak smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Well,” Yoongi stood with a grunt, leaning over the table to scoop more meat into his bowl. “We have all night. So spit.”

_________________________________________

“ ‘...When he had cut enough wood for the burnt offering, he set out for the place God had told him about. On the third day…”

Jin was barely listening to his grandfather’s frail voice narrate the stories which he had heard countless times by now. The whirl of the herbal concoction in his cup was more thrilling to him, his head finally tall enough to see over the lip of it from his spot at the dining room table. He still sat like he did every other evening, patient and silent while his grandfather read stories he wasn’t sure he believed.

Someone nudged his elbow, jerking him back into the present and away from the few loose tea leaves that floated in slow circles. Jin tried not to let his reaction show, casting his eyes to the side briefly to take in the emptiness to his right where his listening companion should be. If he reacted with too much enthusiasm his grandfather or his dad were sure to notice. And that would only make things worse for him.

Still Jin couldn’t help but ask himself who it was even if he knew he shouldn’t. The answer came before he could stop it, even just the mere thought of asking was enough to call upon the answer.

Seonggi Kim.

No one said the name, nor did he see his face or hear his voice. Just the voice in his head answering almost immediately to his request.

That’s how his brain worked. He would ask, and something would answer. His family called it divine intervention, while he thought of it more as a nuisance. It was strange the way his grandfather venerated the gift as just that–a gift–while also somehow speaking with a tone of condemnation when he would mention it. An honor and a burden. A curse and a blessing.

God’s cruelest contradiction.

Nothing felt right unless they said it was right. If he used it, it was worthy of repenting for doing something so vile in the eyes of god–but if he didn’t, it was a waste of his gift. The rules were arbitrary, muddled by convoluted scripture and greed. What Jin was grasping was that if it was what they wanted him to use it for, it was good. If he used it on his own, it was a sin.

The first member of his family to have it was someone of the first and second generation. The first member of the Kim family born on US soil. The matriarch of the house at the time, Johanna, was such a devoted christian that she convinced them that it must be a sign from god that he was ready for them to convert to his teachings. That God had chosen them.

Jin bit his lip to keep his sigh from being audible.

Whether his family had chosen to convert themselves of their own accord, or because it was the safe choice when pressured to conform in a foreign environment–he hated it either way. Every night when he would be tucked into bed he’d hear those words: ‘God chose you,’ whispered down to him as their goodnight. Never what he wanted to hear.

Prophet was the name they were each given. Serving alongside the Wörners and offering them their aid as an advisor that never failed to make the right calls. They would ask, and god would answer (or so they say). It was job security at its finest.

There were rules that prevented them from becoming too powerful. For one, they were never allowed to use their powers for personal gain or meddling. It was sinful, greedy. selfish–work was the only place it was allowed. His only teachings on how to manage the gift was on how to control it from running wild in his mind. It was something he struggled with controlling. He’d find himself asking questions in his mind before he could stop himself, and the guilt would eat him alive each time he did.

The second rule was the most important: Never use it on the Wörners unless it is business related. Helping them or others by stepping over God's plan for them was wrong.

Jin presumed it was a self preservation method more than anything. If Johanna and the others thereafter had thought of it as a threat or something devilish then his family would have never made it past the first generation. They would have been exiled. It’s funny how they speak of the devil like he is the greatest of all evils, but his face is ever changing, and his personhood shifts to fit whatever narrative they want it to. The only reason Jin isn’t seen as the devil himself is because he is useful.

Don’t use his gifts or use them. Both were wrong depending who was judging him that day.

Jin let his thoughts wander to his friends, his fingers fiddling with the edge of the ornate table cloth and his gaze honed back in on the tea leaves. None of them looked at him like that. He wondered how cold they were, or how many snowmen they had managed to build by now without him. He wondered if Jimin was doing alright on his own…

He is at the library. Reading. This was a guess at best since he hadn’t formerly asked, but the overwhelming feeling in his belly told him he was right. Thsi was different than the straight forward repsonses. If he thought about it intently, he could almost say they are two seperate entities inside of him, both with different preferred methods of communication. Nausea burned at the back of his throat at the thought–perhaps half of him was the devil.

Jin’s nose twitched. A give away to his discomfort and his preoccupation of the mind.

“Are you paying attention?”

Jin’s head snapped up to his grandfather and father looking at him expectantly, tripping over his own tongue in haste to answer their question. “Y-yes I am, sir.” He hastily brought his cup to his lips to hide behind the tea that had long lost its steam.

His grandfather clicked his tongue in blatant disappointment and continued on despite the obvious cover up. “ ‘Abraham looked up and there in a thicket he saw a ram caught by its horns. He went over and took the ram…’ ”

Jin let his guard fall once his grandfather sunk back into his previous rhythm. His eyes began to drift out to the yard, watching the other children leave deep footprints in the snow covered grounds in a snowman centered mission he so desperately wished he could be a part of. Not sitting with his eyes drooping and lips chapped from the dry heat that rumbled from the radiators like a steady baseline to his grandfather’s reading.

He didn’t quite get the chance to join them that afternoon, though he took extra care to help Hoseok’s mother Misuk prepare hot chocolate for them when they lumbered in with frost kissed noses and snow dusted lashes. Their bones were stiff from the cold, the bunch of them headed off with creaking joints to hot showers and warm pajamas. Jin counted their heads as they passed, smiling to some and wrestling soaked hats from others. He organized their shoes from oldest to youngest, and laid their scarves and knitted hats on the radiators to dry, lining them up one by one next to one another. He pinched the edge of a green one between his fingertips, rolling the wool over itself just to feel it. It was heavier than the others, drenched from melted ice and cold sweat. It belonged to Y/n.

He knew he shouldn’t. Jin knew that asking for the sake of her wellbeing was forbidden–it was personal matters. His eyes bore holes into the woven wool, the weight of it in his hands pulling him downwards. Casting a nervous glance over both shoulders, he looked back down to it and asked the question in his mind.

‘Is Y/n going to get sick?’

Jin felt his stomach churn.

Yes.

Shame washed over him as well as worry, prickling his skin and twisting his stomach like it would wring out the tea he had sipped all afternoon. This was forbidden.

“Jin?”

The boy whipped around, startled by the high pitched inquiry, his heart slowing down only a little at the sight of the little girl before him.

“What’s up Til? Do you need something?” Jin did a quick scan of Madilta, still swallowed in her thick pink snow suit that was so dense it pushed at her cheeks up until they puffed, making her resemble one of the marshmallows Jin had poured into a shared dish more than human.

“I need help. I can’t get it.” Jin watched her little hands still coccooned in knitted mittens fiddle with her zipper that had gotten stuck a quarter of the way down, a pout making her bottom lip jut out.

He skipped over and reaching out to gingerly take the zipper in his hands, shimmied it until it unclipped from the first layer of waffle pajamas underneath. He held her hands as she stepped out of the sodden suit, and helped her tug off the mittens and line them up on the radiator next to the others.

“There you go.” He gave you a pick pat on the head, and a warm smile. “Go head upstairs. They are probably waiting for you.”

Matilda opened her mouth to complain, but it was swiftly cut short by Y/n’s voice calling for her at the landing.

“Come on Gänse, You should go first. And I’m waiitttinggg~” Y/n dramatically flopped over the railing for extra emphasis.

“Why should I go first?” Matilda huffed, crossing her arms defiantly.

“Because you’re littler. That’s the rules.” Y/n shrugged. “Shouldn’t have been born after me if you didn’t want to take showers first.”

“Well whoever gets out first, gets their hot chocolate first.” Misuk stuck her head out from the kitchen door, narrowing her eyes at the two young girls. “Up. Both of you.”

There was a split second where Y/n and Matilda stared at each other while processing what Misuk had said. And then they were off–running full speed up the stairs and down the hall, bickering and shoving at each other as they raced to reach their shared bathroom first. From a distance away he could hear their eldest sister, Amelia chastising them for running, and Hoseok egging them on like he usually did.

Misuk pursed her lips, restraining herself from giving them a light scolding of their own for running. Instead she turned to Jin, gesturing to him with her chin. “Since you’re the only one down here, you can make first requests for dinner. Any ideas?”

Through the kitchen door he could hear Mariah and Yoongi’s mother Hye-won laughing and clanging cookware out of the cabinets. He cast one last long, nervous glance back at Y/n’s hat, remembering what his gut had told him. Jin shifted under Misuk’s expectant stare, looking up at her through his bangs with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Stew maybe? Something really warm…” He paused, vaguely remembering something his mother had said about vegetables keeping you healthy and strong, making sure to add "Something hot with lots and lots of vegetables!”

Misuk’s eyebrows disappeared beneath her hairline. “‘Lots and lots of vegetables’? My, what your mother would probably give to hear you say that.”

Jin flushed, and gave his best convincing shrug. “It just sounds…good.”

“If you say so~” Misuk disappeared into the kitchen once more where he could hear the faint conversation of her sharing what Jin had said, earning her a chorus of chuckles and half-hearted jokes from the other women.

But Jin felt no joy in what he had done.

In his pockets his fists were clenched, keeping the guilt he felt locked in his palm to worry over later. He would have to keep there until he prayed over his bed–for when he begged God to forgive him for what he had done. He could afford to ask for forgiveness later if it meant keeping Y/n warm.

_________________________________________

Jin sat on the stairs, knees to his chest so his chin could rest comfortably on the tops of them. The rest of the children were busy building wooden cities or concocting the ‘longest railroad this house has ever seen’ (courtesy of Hoseok and Matilda); the group of them distracted and rowdy in the playroom behind him, unaware of how the world was turning upside down around them.

“Do you want to join us?” Amelia politely called down to him from the door, a board game tucked under her arm. “Yoongi and I are gonna play Candy Land!”

Yoongi popped his head out of the room to survey the area, stopping on Jin with a soft tilt of his head. “You okay?”

“No thank you–my stomach hurts. I’m just taking a break, you two go ahead. I’ll join next round.” Jin nodded to them, his hands growing sweaty against his jeans.

Yoongi looked at him blankly, not entirely buying his excuse, but still slinking back into the room with a mumbled “suit yourself”, to which Amelia followed shortly after. Jin sighed with relief at their exit, dropping his chin back onto his knees and straining his ears to listen.

“We need to take you to a doctor. This is getting entirely out of hand.” Mariah’s voice was muffled from down the hall, the office door left slightly ajar.

“A doctor isn’t going to help him, and you know it.” His own father responded instead of Anselm. “We need to act now before this gets any worse.”

Mariah scoffed. “If you have any advice to offer that doesn’t involve getting the Vatican's approval, by all means, go ahead.”

“We just need to stay diligent,” Hoseok’s father Jeonghun’s telltale cheery tone cut through with an uncomfortable laugh, sensing the rising tension. “Keep our eyes open and the children out of trouble. Nothing to be too concerned over.”

“There is nothing to be diligent over.” Mariah’s voice moved closer, the door opening a few more inches to let out more sound. “We will be taking him to get the help he needs, from a doctor–not a priest.”

“I don’t think that is the best idea,” His father tried to reason again. “We have heard of this kind of thing before. My grandfather–he wrote about-”

“They were all completely out of their minds.” Mariah cut him off sharply. “All of them. My in-laws, and yours included. They came from a different time where these things were dismissed as spiritual afflictions or moral corruptions. I have read a few of the records you had left on my desk. All it proves is a long history of unmanaged, and undocumented mental illness that was undeservingly your grandfather’s burden to bear. This ends here.”

“And my son?” Jungkook’s father interjecte, voice low and teetering on the edge of a challenge.

There was a pregnant pause, the tension rising out into the hall Jin had started to tiptoe down to listen.

“What about him?” Mariah finally spoke again, careful and slow.

Sanghun’s chair creaked as he must’ve stood. “Do you consider my son mentally ill, Miss Wörner?” Another pause, his tone bordering on dangerous. “My wife?”

“You know that is not what I said.”

Sanghun chuckled, though the action was void of any humor. “You can’t cherry pick. You should know by now that there are things that happen here that are anything but normal. That are not caused by any mental illness.”

“Jungkook is differ-”

“And what of mine?” Hye-won Min was next.

Jin’s father didn’t speak. He didn’t defend himself or Jin in front of the room. Jin couldn’t be sure if the rest of them even knew about them–but he couldn’t deny the rush he felt at whatever they were insinuating about the others. Maybe he truly wasn’t alone…

Mariah audibly floundered. “That is all different. Those are controlled abilities–anomolies. This is something else entirely. You all have eyes that can see, look at him! Look at what he is becoming!”

Jin had one hand on the wall and the other pressed to his mouth to keep his breathing quiet as he inched closer to the office.

“We can all see it. But it is in our best interest in my opinion, that we turn to what the generations before us have done. Maybe Margaret left something behind in one of her journals for us to reference. What I have on my side is written like it’s in riddles.” Jin’s father sounded nervous–feeling the pressure to de-escalate the rising discontentment amongst the parents–and Jin could almost see him playing with the cuff of his button-down.

There was a lingering pause before Mariah relented. “If you think that’s what is best.”

A shuffling of movement and a few muttered goodbyes let him know it was time to flee, and Jin turned to speed back towards the stairs, sinking onto the bottom one and willing his heart to slow. The parents dispersed, some of them going back to their rooms or staying behind in the office.

Jin’s father and Jeonghun walked side by side, whispering to each other in urgent hushed tones.

“We can’t get too involved,” Yeongjin urged the latter. “We can’t. We know what that costs for us.”

Jeonghun heaved an audible sigh. “But the children–”

“They are exactly who I’m thinking about.” Yeongjin silenced him.

“If we stand to the side and do nothing then who knows what could happen to us all.”

“If we step in too far, then you know what else could happen. This is Wörner business. They made the deal–let’s not be the ones to break it.” Yeongjin finalized.

Before Jin could even realize how close their voices had gotten, the two of them rounded the corner, exposing Jin’s hiding spot to them. Jeonghun’s protests died at the hands of the beaming grin he shot down at Jin.

“Jin! How’s it going kiddo? Why aren’t you up there with the others? Is Hoseok bothering you again?”

Jin shook his head, his cheeks burning, “N-no Mr. Jung. I just have a stomachache.”

“Ahhhh that’s too bad.” Jeonghun clicked his tongue. “Do you need one of us to get you something?”

Jin shook his head again, his hair falling into his eyes. “No thank you. I’m alright.”

The rest of whatever Jeonghun had said after that fell on deaf ears, for Jin was stuck in place, eyes locked on his father's that were wide, his breath falling in inaudible short puffs from his nose as he stared down at Jin. He knew.

He always knew.

And Jin wasn’t sure what scared him more–getting in trouble for eavesdropping, or the blatant, unbridled flash of fear that came from his own father upon the realization that Jin had heard parts of their discussion. Something he had rarely ever seen on his face.

The look on his face haunted Jin. It followed him through dinner and up the wooden steps, slipping in and out of the shadows like a ghost. A similar look was taking over his own face while he brushed his teeth at the mirror in his bathroom. He could hear Jimin, Hoseok and Y/n running up and down the hallways outside his door, getting the last few bursts of energy out while G-min slowly followed after them with warm laughter and guiding hands.

He let the sounds distract him. Let them sink into his mind and bring forth fantasies of his own where he was running alongside them–his pulse pounding and his cheeks sore from smiling too much.

Jin spit his toothpaste out into the sink, watching it slink down the sides of the porcelain bowl for a few seconds, then washed it away with cold water. Washing away his fantasies with it.

With his pajamas on and his knees tucked below him, he tuned out the rest of the world and whispered into his folded hands all of the things he had done wrong that day. He begged for forgiveness, and went through his usual routine of asking God to protect his friends and his parents–naming everyone in the house one by one in fear that if he forgot one, God would forget them too.

When his parents came in to wish him goodnight, it was swift, his mother's kiss warm and inviting, but his father’s stare was distant. Like the moment he caught him was haunting him as much as it did Jin. His mother whisked herself away with a quick goodnight, slipping around to the left-hand side and into Jimin’s room to do the same.

Yeongjin lingered, fingers frozen on the lightswitch near the door, mouth pressed into a disgruntled scowl. Jin waited for the punishment that never came.

“Make sure to stay in your room during the night from now on. Even if you hear your friends going out and about. Don’t ask why.” He flicked the light off, and closed the door until there was just an inch remaining for him to whisper through. “Goodnight, Jin. Remember-god chose you, so do the right thing.”

The antique clock marked the seconds with robotic ticks, its glass face grinning down at him from above. He kept repeating what his father said, over and over again. A new pressure added to his shoulders, piled onto the many he already carried. It was almost as frightening as the fear he had let slip through earlier that day.

His father’s words meant nothing to him as the days drifted by, snow melting into the false security of spring–just a vague warning that was all bone and no meat. Jin never left his room anyway, so why would he start now? He was good. He wanted to be good.

Nights came and went, the dawn of late spring making his room warmer than usual, and he couldn’t sleep from the sticky heat. He spent the minutes musing to himself that the ticking sound the clock made could almost sound like an old man’s hearty laugh: slow and crashing out deep from his chest. He had even given him a name–Sir Kim, an old face from a time long forgotten, there to protect him in the night.

A floorboard creaked underneath an unknown weight, just outside his door.

Jin hunched up on his side, shoulders to his ears and eyes wide to take in the outline of the door through the darkness. Uneven steps scuffed the rug outside his door. Hovering. Shifting from side to side like they were uncertain.

An attempt to tug the covers up to his chin left him startled, for he found his limbs frozen and unresponsive. It suddenly felt hard to breathe, a weight pressing down on his chest while he gave each limb its own try, none of them working like they should–not even a twitch of his fingers. The only thing he could move were his eyes that darted about the room in a panic, roaming over every surface and latching onto the face of his clock for a familiar comfort.

His doorknob twisted once, then stopped suspended at an angle, like whoever was on the other side was trying not to wake him by turning it too quickly. When it heard no commotion on Jin’s side of the door, it jolted back to life–finishing its rotation until the bolt no longer held the door between him and the intruder. It opened if not but an inch, enough for one bulbous golden eye to poke through, flitting about his room until it landed on his that were wide open. They stared at each other, Jin still frozen in place and trembling with terror, and the other locked on him, drinking up every reaction from him they could with rapt interest.

Then the door swung open entirely, taking any scraps of safety he had left with it in a swinging arc. The woman before him was unkept, hair wild and bouncing down over her gaunt face that was warped with deep purples, drawing attention to her mouth that was left hanging open–vast and empty. Wet feet slapped against the wooden planks that peeked out from beneath ornate rugs as she crept closer to his bedside, standing bent over him so her earthen, rotting stench could rain down on him.

Jin gagged, unable to stop his stomach from spasming and sending the remnants of his dinner spilling down the side of his bed–but still he could not move. She bent down lower, pulling forth another wave of nausea that squeezed his digestive tract for whatever it could find left in it. Her mouth opened, gum smashing against gum in a tongueless crawl for words. One of her hands, filthy and clammy, slid over his cheek to rest on his face. And it was then words started to flow into his head like her touch had connected the two of them somehow.

“Can you help me get what I want, Prophet?” Her fingers danced across his cheekbones, lazily drawing down his chin and tapping along his skin. Her hand clasped around his jaw with crushing strength in an effort to tug him closer to her. “Together, we can do what needs to be done…”

There was a storm of hurried steps that thundered down the hall, spilling into his room with a calamitous commotion and lunging right for the woman. In a blink, the two figures were gone from his sight–having completely blipped out of existence like magicians–yet still he could feel their tumultuous collision around his room, whirling around one another in a dance of violence and fury. Seokjin was stuck still, his limbs regaining their composure but his mind still reeling from the encounter.

He wasn’t sure what he should do–find his parents, or clean himself up on his own and return to bed like nothing had happened. The indecision holding him hostage in his bed, the sharp acidic smell and swelling humiliation offering him no help with his decision. Fate seemed to take pity on him, deciding with its weighty gavel just what his sentence should be without Jin even needing to have stood up from his bed yet.

“Are you alright Jin?” Jimin’s small face poked around his doorframe, fingers curled around the wood and digging into it for security.

Jin looked at him, glassy eyed and uncertain. “I’m o-okay.”

Jimin gave him a disbelieving once over, his eyes flickering to the middle of his room and lingering there, before turning back to Jin. “I can get your mom if that’d help?”

“No–it’s okay. I can-”

Jimin had already vanished, having no interest in waiting for an answer, scuttling down the hall on nimble feet to escape down the stairs and wake his mother.

Something unseen bumped into his dresser against the back wall, sending an old picture frame and a perched stuffed bear tumbling to the ground on his rug. Jin leapt upright, hands clutching his soiled comforter as the air whooshed around him, the ghost of footsteps chasing after Jimin, leaving his room empty and void of its previously charged energy.

Jin was ready to chase after it–to stop their pursuit of his friend with unsteady legs and shaky breaths–but Jimin’s voice was already returning up the stairs, his mother following not far behind.

To his horror, as his mother rounded the door frame to press her hands to his forehead and cheeks in a frenzy, his father followed after. And hidden beneath the mask of concern and fatigue was that same streak of fear Jin had seen him wear those weeks prior. The same one that had fear of his own curling up in his belly and rendering him useless.

When their eyes met, Jin knew that he had known what had transpired. He could see it in the faint twinge of guilt in his eyes that Jin could recognize easily since he wore it so often himself. In that moment Jin felt seen by his father–like they could connect over the shame of using their gift for selfish reasons if only his father would admit to it.

And as Jin’s mother wiped his chin and cheeks with warm clothes and guided him into the bath, he watched his father through the open bathroom door perch on the cushioned chair in the corner of his room. His head was tipped down over his clenched fist and his mouth moving in swift prayer. A request for forgiveness Jin knew all too well.

_________________________________________

Summer rolled in with a rowdy temperament. Beautiful, wind-blessed days scattered in between raging thunderstorms that pushed the children into communal spaces and blanket forts. All of them strewn together by Jungkook, Jin and Yoongi, while Y/n manned the flashlight station–having made a game out of pretending to be a light merchant set on bargaining up the price higher than necessary to the poor peasants begging for entry.

Jin tuned Hoseok and Y/n’s bickering out, focusing on getting some kind of movie on the screen and clipping up the blankets where Yoongi would tell him to. His goal was to get them rounded up and in the fort as soon as possible, his nerves never having fully recovered from the incident in his room, or the dark figures he had seen moping around the corners of his vision after. More specifically, the shadows of the woman that lurked around door frames and wandered along the grass while they played.

When their heads were all locked on the TV screen, Jin would pray to himself with his eyes locked on the last spot he had seen her. And it was then that Jin noticed that Jungkook too would look in the same direction periodically, jaw set and determined as he would pluck up Hoseok’s rogue foot that had escaped the fort and toss it back in, or tuck Y/n and Matilda in with another blanket. Once, their eyes met when a flash of lightning illuminated the dark halls, outlining her figure for Jin to see. An unspoken acknowledgement of what they had both seen floated between them, and Jungkook averted his eyes back to the tent as soon as it had happened–leaving Jin to think on it alone.

If Jungkook could see her too, that meant she must have bothered him–and Jin couldn’t stand the thought.

He took his role as the oldest seriously after that, giving him a goal to focus on other than fretting over whether or not he had asked the wrong question or made a mistake under the eyes of his father and their god. His goal was simply to keep the younger ones from going through what he had–without abusing his power. It was simple in theory, but difficult in practice.

He could never ask himself how they were doing, or who was where–he almost had to shut his brain off and hope to make guesses instead of questions. Theories instead of answers.

It’s funny how the human brain can lie to itself–the amount of hoops it can conjure up to make one thing seem so different from the other with so little contrast. Jin discovered that if he conjured up a theory, his gut would still ring true, but it was less of a clear answer and more of a feeling. This, he told himself, was different from sinning. This was simply listening.

So when Mr. Wörner would come around the children, a grin just a tad too wide and his brow twitching in a manner unlike himself, Jin would listen to the voice in his gut that told him to get everyone else away from him. He wasn’t breaking any rules, and he wasn’t hurting anybody. He was listening.

This mental game was something he played rather well, even going as far as to grow almost comfortable with it. It felt safe.

Until it didn’t anymore.

The night air was warm and humid, sticking to his face like a second skin. Light refracted all around him from sparklers, firecrackers and glowsticks atop children’s heads as they whizzed by. He could distantly make out the muted argument between Matilda and Y/n–something about the boxy camcorder they tugged back and forth between them. It all happened in a blur. The argument escalated until Mrs. Wörner swooped in to cart the youngest away on one hip, her lips pressed into a thin line and the camera shoved back into Mr. Wörner’s hands.

At the same time, Jin’s hair rose to a stand, tickling his arms and sending a cool chill down his spine. He whipped his head around to look at the front porch, eyes searching for the woman he could feel but not see. It was Jungkook that gave her away, a quick flash of his eyes towards the garden before he ushered Y/n further out into the grass and clover towards Hoseok.

Through the tall stalks of gladiolus and stretched out arms of the peonies, he could see it–a dark shape crawling across the dirt before vanishing from his sight. What is she even doing here? Jin remarked to himself bitterly, kicking a stone away from his shoe and sliding a pair of glowing glasses off his nose. There goes his night of fun.

She’s coming to take her away.

Jin, having gotten so used to not asking questions, bristled at the unexpected slip up. The answer slithering up his subconscious and coiling there, a challenge to do with it what he pleased. A threat.

Jin took off across the grass, following after Mariah and bounding up the stairs–not without one last sharp look to Anselm that he returned with more bewildered than cutting. Jin ignored his confusion, and took to the stairs as swiftly as he could.

Who? He asked himself, watching as Matilda disappeared into her room with a nasally, high-pitched cry. Jin didn’t have to wait for the answer–because his gut already told him it was the same little girl that was-

Jin came to a halting stop.

Y/n.

That was not who he was expecting. His gut was telling him one thing, but the voice of ‘God’ was telling him another. It was as though he had been split down the middle, his body and his soul fighting over the right answer. Jin was at an impasse.

Mariah found him dazed in the hallway, his youthful complexion splattered with red and his breathing rapid and shallow. She whisked him down the hall, his body betraying him into an inconsolable mess of confusion and guilt all the while, and guided him to sit on the edge of his bed.

“What’s wrong, honey? Are you feeling alright?” Mariah smoothed warm palms down his clammy cheeks and brushed the bangs from his eyes.

Jin’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, cheeks stained with tears that he couldn’t control. One of them was in trouble, and he didn’t know who. Something that had never happened before–and if he asked for guidance from his father he would be punished for using his gift so flippantly. The weight of the knowledge hung down on him like a low-bearing axe against his throat. It was his job to help them–his job to protect them-

“Honey, I need you to breathe.” Mariah gripped his shoulders with a bit more fervency, shaking him just enough to force their eyes to meet. “Let’s take some deep breaths, okay? Count with me.”

She led him in a show of measured breathing and did not stop until his own had more or less evened out enough to her liking. Mariah looked like she had needed the moment just as much; tired and weary from having to wrangle so many young children on such a bustling night. Jin felt the fists of guilt curl in his stomach and punch it down towards the floor for adding onto her stress.

“That’s better,” She whispered, giving his small shoulders a gentle squeeze. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on, or do you want me to get someone else for you?”

Jin shook his head violently, spitting out a quick “No ma’am!”

Mariah looked unmoved, one of her brows rising towards the ceiling. “No you don’t want to tell me, or no to me getting your parents?”

“Please don’t tell my parents!” Jin begged, the tightness in his chest starting to return at the thought of it.

“Okay! I won’t–at least not just yet.” Mariah’s expression pinched with worry. “Can you at least tell me what’s going on?”

Jin waged a war within himself–he needed help, he was incapable of making any moves by himself. But telling a Wörner could be just as bad as telling his own father, because it would mean he’d have to admit to breaking the biggest rule.

“I won’t be upset with you Jin,” Mariah urged, “I just want to help you.”

“Something’s wrong and I don’t know what to do!” Jin finally broke, splintered down the middle with a harrowed sob. He collapsed into her, throwing his arms around her middle and pouring himself into her shoulder.

Mariah hushed him, cradling his head to her shoulder with soothing strokes. “What do you mean? What’s wrong?”

“Something’s going to happen…” Jin sniffled, recalling the way his body recoiled from the fleeting dark shape, and the ominous warning that struck fear deep into his bones. “Something bad.”

Mariah stiffened. “Is this your…gift talking?”

Jin nodded helplessly into her blouse.

“Jin-” She put him at arms length and looked at him with desperation. “-what kind of bad? To the hotel, or the house?”

Jin shook his head yet again. “To one of them. To-”

“Is everything alright up here?” The floorboards groaned under Anselm’s weight, his frame taking up most of the doorway that he lingered behind.

Jin’s throat closed up against his will, his intuition telling him to run from the man before him who had been nothing but kind to him. There was something about the way he stood–uneven and leaning up against the wall near the door like his body was difficult to maneuver—but the rest of him seemed normal. Almost too normal. Too perfect. Different from the bewildered man he had just pushed passed.

It made Jin want to throw up.

Mariah seemed to sense the shift in his demeanor, casting a cautious look to Jin before standing up to greet her husband. “Everything is alright, I have it under control. He just got a little shaken up by all of the noise. We will be back down in just a moment.”

Anselm hovered still, unsatisfied by the answer. His eyes raked over the two of them–slow and deliberate in his calculations, weighing their honesty on a gold plate in his mind. The shape of his face almost morphing into someone else entirely in the trick of the light.

“If you say so.” He relented, shuffling back down the hall in an uneven gait. “Don’t be too long, the first wave of fireworks is going to start soon.”

Jin listened to his retreating steps, the beat mimicking the pace of his pulse that drummed in his ears. He turned to Mariah again, whispering to her urgently.

“Something is wrong, and I don’t know how to fix it. She is coming for one of them. I can’t tell which one.” He kept his eyes locked on his door, ears straining to hear if Anselm was returning. “My gut says one thing, but…” Jin tripped over his own words, choking on the single syllable that should be easy for him to say. “...God says another. It's n-never happened before.”

“The girls?” Mariah asked breathlessly. “Is it about the girls?”

Jin nodded solemnly in return. Mariah’s expression cracked, her spine curling downwards as she sunk to the floor before him. “I hate to ask this of you Jin, but which one?”

Jin gulped. “I don’t know.”

Mariah shifted to rest back on her heels, pursing her lips and gripping his comforter to stop her hands from shaking. “What does God say?”

Jin hesitated.

“Y/n.”

Mariah exhaled sharply, the edges of the breath singed with a withheld sob. “And what does your gut-”

“Seokjin Kim.” His father’s energy billowed into the room, hand resting on the door frame with such force Jin was worried he’d crack the wood. “That is quite enough.”

Jin’s spine straightened immediately, his head bowed and his hands curled into fists over his knees.

Mariah spoke first, rising to her feet. “Yeongjin, now isn’t the time for formalities and rules. My girls–somethign is wrong and we need to-”

“I’ve heard enough and so have you. You have enough information to act on. Do not ask my son for anything else.” Yeongjin pushed past her and pulled Jin to his feet, angling himself to separate the two of them from Mariah. “The rules are in place for a reason.”

“Mr. Kim, you know better than anyone that I do not care about rules. It doesn’t bother me if you-”

“I didn’t ask if it bothered you. And excuse me for being frank, I don’t care. This goes back a lot farther than you would even like to admit.” Yeongjin cut her off sharply. He commandeered Jin towards the door, pushing him ahead of himself and out into the hall. He spun on her, voice dangerously low in volume that he intended for Jin not to hear. But he did.

“You have been willfully ignorant of our advice for months now. Don’t start acting like we didn’t warn you. Act now, or you will regret it.” Yeongjin faltered, his voice just a hair softer. “You have to think of your children, and I have to think of mine. I hope you can understand that. The rules weren’t made for you.”

Jin’s father gripped him tightly by the arm and whisked him away down the hall and away from Mariah, down the steps and steering him into the kitchen only to spin on him, crouching down to his eye level with a fever in his eyes.

“What do you think you were doing? We explicitly told you-”

“Dad, something is going to happen to them! I can’t just-”

“Yes you can!” Yeongjin shook his shoulders so intentionally his head jerked back and forth. “We all have to. It’s the rules!”

Jin’s rage simmered into despair. He felt as though his ribs would cave in and his heart would stop at any given moment. His chin shook as he looked up to his father, eyes welling up with tears. “Rules don’t mean we let our friends die…”

Yeongjin’s face split, conflicted–like he was trying to grab for the pieces of his stern facade as they cracked and fell from his face. He squatted down lower so there was no distance between them.

“No one is going to die tonight.” He let one hand rest on Jin’s shoulder to give it a soft squeeze that was supposed to be reassuring. “God wouldn’t let that happen, okay?”

Jin pressed his lips together, brows furrowing in confusion. Jin may not enjoy the scripture readings with his grandfather and his dad, but he had heard enough to know that God had a track record of letting children die for his cause. What was wrong with those children that their deaths were okay? And what did Jin need to do to make sure Y/n or Matilda didn’t suffer the same fate? Jin didn’t understand. It was all too much.

“I want to go to bed.”

Yeongjin looked down at him, puzzled. “Already? But the fireworks haven’t started yet?”

Jin turned his head away so his father wouldn’t see his eyes that had turned hard and spiteful. “I’m tired.”

His father sighed, and stood with his hands planted on his hips. “If you say so. I will send your mother in to say goodnight.”

Jin stood there, alone in the kitchen with his mind desperately searching for any sort of memory of the stories he had read, and what he could do to secure them the mercy of ‘God’. His name left a bitter taste on Jin’s tongue.

“Jin?” His mother crept into the kitchen, hands splayed on the door frame she leant against. “Are you feeling okay? Dad said you wanted to go to bed early tonight…”

Jin didn’t answer. Instead, he padded up to where she stood and buried his face in her stomach until the ball that was lodged in his throat lessened. She walked him to bed with one of his hands held in her own, a crease in her brow signaling her subdued displeasure that Jin had grown to recognize as an indication that she was angry with his father.

She tucked him in gently, leaving the imprint of a warm kiss on his forehead as she murmured down to him. “If you change your mind, we will just be outside.”

The seconds ticked by, melting into minutes and oozing into hours that felt faraway to Jin, who had curled up under his covers to block out any and all thoughts of reality. He was stuck between the impossible–crushed between four walls that kept closing in on him in the dark of the evening. He listened, counting the heads of his friends as they returned to their beds one by one: the slow drag of Yoongi, the steady strikes of Jungkook preceded by the casual amble of Namjoon, rounded up by Jimin’s quiet shuffle into his room.

He let the clock’s hands move down another number before he peeled back his covers and swung his legs over the side of his bed. The hallway was dark and foreboding, teeming with energy that played tricks on Jin's eyes and making him see strange shapes in the shadows. He snuck across the landing, keeping close to the wall to crane his neck down towards the girl’s room–the door shut and untouched.

Jin didn’t know what he was hoping to accomplish with his adventure, but he couldn’t just go to sleep and pretend that he wasn’t being eaten alive from the inside.

“You too, huh?”

Jin spun on his heels at the intruder, gasping sharply as he did. Mariah stood behind him, swaddled in one of her robes with her arms crossed and face riddled with lines of worry.

Jin swallowed, unsure how to respond.

“I won’t tell.” Mariah whispered, stepping past him to track down the hall towards their bedroom. Her hand shook as she twisted the knob to steal a peek at the girls that were strewn haphazardly across their beds, tangled up in their sheets. Satisfied with the sight, she closed the door once more and turned to face Jin with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry for what I did earlier Jin. It wasn’t fair to push you like that. You can go to bed. They are safe, the doors are locked, and I checked for any choking hazards when they were brought up for bed.”

She came to stop next to him. “I will try and check on them again later. It’s not your responsibility to look after them–it’s mine.”

Jin let her walk him back to bed even though his nerves were far from settled. He wished more than anything that Sir Kim could make his fears go away tonight with his gleaming face and unstoppable pulse.

But they didn’t.

It just became a background noise to his thoughts that leapt from one thing to the next. Did they put their shoes away properly? Did they all drink enough water? He forgot to check. Hoseok had tripped before he had come inside–had someone gotten him a band aid while he was away?

Were the shoes put away properly?

Jin was up again, taking the stairs one at a time until he reached the foyer. As opposed to his first venture where the house felt busy, the halls felt utterly empty. Quiet, like it had been seduced into a dreamless slumber that weighed down on Jin’s own eyelids.

He shook the fatigue from his eyes as he scanned the shoes lined up near the shoe bench, eyeing the color and arrangement of each of them. They were wrong, and he needed to fix it lest it make his skin crawl the rest of the night.

They needed to be in the right order. Everything needed to be right, because if it wasn’t–maybe that would be the final nail in their coffins, no pun intended. Jin had to do anything he could to make sure everything would be okay, down to the smallest detail.

He took to work immediately, sliding the shoes into a perfect line from eldest to youngest, his hands hovering over Y/n and Matilda’s sneakers. He lifted Y/n’s into his hands and prayed over them, wishing with all of his might that nothing would come to Y/n that night. He tucked them in between Jungkook’s and Matilda’s, moving to lift her little shoes in his hands before another voice stopped him.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed kiddo?”

Bile rose in Jin’s throat, coating it until it turned his mouth into a bitter wasteland. He twisted around to look at Anselm with wide, frightful eyes and the shoes clattered from his hands onto the rug.

“Y-yes sir.”

Jin couldn’t explain the fear he felt under Anselm’s watch as he swiftly nestled Matilda's shoes back next to Y/n’s. It looked like him, moved like him–but it didn’t feel like him. It felt like his shadow was going to swallow Jin whole if he stepped in it, so he maneuvered around the stretched out image of him that spilled across the carpet and nearly tripped up the stairs.

“Jin?”

Jin stopped at the landing, looking down to Anselm obediently. “Y-yes?”

Anselm looked up to him with an unreadable expression, his voice growing hoarse. “It’s not safe to leave your room at night. You could accidentally hurt yourself in the dark. Go back to bed, okay?”

Jin nodded slowly, not particularly liking the way Anselm’s glistening eyes made him feel–almost flashing at him with the color of liquid gold in the moonlight that filtered down from the windows.

“Yes sir.”

Jin sailed across his threshold, diving into his covers the moment his door was closed and locked to get away from the man that had wandered back towards the ballroom as he left. He knew he should listen–knew that the warning he had been given by not one, but two of the adults should be enough to keep him locked away in his room for all eternity.

But it wasn’t.

Not when through his light slumber, he heard the telltale playful giggle of Matilda, from down the hall, waking him instantly. He listened again for it, hearing it jingle again, followed by someone’s voice whispering back to her.

The internal battle for what he should do raged forth with unprecedented fury, until his eyes burned and his skull thrummed in beat with his quickened pulse. His father told him to leave it be, that god would protect them–the rules. Mariah had said she was watching over them.

But that wasn’t enough for his nagging mind.

Jin needed to make sure it was okay.

His palms were slick with sweat as he clenched them at his sides, walking aimlessly towards their approaching voices where they had paused at the landing. It was Anselm again.

“Mr. Wörner?” Jin tried carefully. He tried not to visibly recoil when the man hissed at him through his teeth, sounding more of an animal than a man. Bravery was hard to find, but he clung to the hope of it like a vice. “Are you…Are you two alright?”

“Oh! Of course we are! Nothing to be worried about here.” Anselm resituated himself with a laugh that hit Jin’s ears like nails on a chalkboard, giving Matilda’s hand a gentle tug. “Right, little one?”

“Yep!” Matilda’s eyes shined up at her father with mirth.

“Oh. Okay…” Jin wanted to believe it, but something nagged at him–prodding the wounds his worry had left behind until it felt suffocating. He turned to Matilda instead, looking at her earnestly. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Positvalutley!” Matilda chirped, gesturing for him to turn around. “We are going to a su-”

“-She needs a drink! She had a nightmare and got thirsty. I have it covered kiddo. You head back to bed, alright?” Anselm gently shuffled Matilda further behind him out of Jin’s line of sight. The look he gave Jin was anything but friendly, and if Jin had thought he had difficulty recognizing him earlier in the evening, now it was like he was looking at a complete stranger. His voice even sounded odd to his ears, the cadence different what it was just hours before.

The urge to ask God or his intuition for his answer was nearly impossible to ignore–but he refrained. Instead, he put faith in what his own father had said and Mariah’s reassurance. He had broken the rules enough, and nothing good had come from it. He didn’t want to anger God for fear that it would make them all susceptible to his wrath. Perhaps his obedience would be their only hope to get through the night.

Anselm was her father after all, and it was probably Mariah that had sent him up to check on them in the first place.

Jin hid his inner turmoil with a nod, turning robotically back to his room with a muttered “If you say so…” He started back down the hall, calling back to them softly with well wishes before tucking himself back in bed for what he hoped would be the last time.

A noise tore him from what little sleep he had managed with a start. The sensation of fingers digging into his forearm so tightly he was sure bruises would form yanked him up into sitting position, his head spinning as blood rushed to catch up with the change. He swiveled his head this way and that but didn’t see any signs of life in his room except for the incessant ticking of his clock and his own labored breathing. His door hadn’t even been opened.

Sir Kim told him less that just minutes less than a measly half-hour had passed since he had reluctantly let his eyes close.

Jin rubbed furiously at his sore eyes, red from both how much he had cried the night before and the restless sleep he couldn’t seem to catch. He just wanted this all to go away so he could sleep.

“Help me! Hurry!”

Jin yelped, tumbling from the side of his bed at the sound of a high-pitched voice, the speaker no more than a few inches away from his ear. When his head popped up over the edge, his eyes didn’t find any child that the voice could have belonged to–but he could feel her. Her presence didn’t necessarily frighten him; on the contrary, it felt quite familiar. Its softness and innocence filled his stomach with dread.

His limbs started to tingle, all of them falling heavy and cold upon the realization that he knew exactly who this voice belonged to.

“Please Jin! I’m scared!”

He stared at the empty space where the disembodied voice seemed to come from and let the question fall audibly from his lips.

“Where is she?”

Ice wove into his veins, winding round and round his throat until it felt hard to breathe, each breath burning his lungs until he doubled over in a fit of uncontrollable coughs to fend it off. Jin was inconsolable–god and his father be damned. The answer far too dastardly to accept.

He didn’t remember how he got to Mariah’s door. Just that when she opened it he could barely speak.

“Matilda is gone! She’s–she’s-” Jin couldn’t even finish his sentence before he became a blubbering mess, clasping at her hands to bring her towards him.

“Seokjin! What are you-” Mariah didn’t bother to finish her sentence, the two of them bounding up the stairs until they were standing side by side, breathing heavily in the girls' open doorway where the two of them slept soundly in their beds undisturbed.

Jin stumbled over himself, the world falling out from beneath his feet. Something wasn’t right–and he knew it. That couldn’t be Matilda in her bed! Not when he had heard her calling out to him so clearly from the other side.

Mariah closed the door carefully, turning to him with eyes swirling with emotion. “Let’s get back to bed.”

“No!” Jin whispered up to her in horror, tears still running down his cheeks. “Something’s wrong! I know what I feel!”

Mariah’s face was pulled down into a tired frown, brows creased with worry. “Why don’t we go to your parents room?”

Jin resisted, leaving Mariah with no choice but to forcefully lift him away before he could wake either of the girls up, carting him all the way down to his parents' room on the first floor. He begged for her to believe him, his cries dying in the raw cage of his throat when Anslem stepped out from their room as they passed with sleep still in his eyes, confusing him further and sending him sailing into a full mental breakdown in Mariah’s arms. When his father opened the door, his mild irritation morphed into something Jin couldn’t read as he whisked him into their shared room with a brief apology to Mariah, his mother trying to soothe him with hushed whispers and soft kisses to his forehead until he passed out in their bed from the sheer exhaustion of it all.

Mariah’s alarmed shouting from the other side of their door woke him not more than a half hour later. And of course, Jin had suspicions as to why.

_________________________________________

Dirt clung to his pants from where he had fallen, eyes locked on the cold, lifeless body of Matilda that jolted under the merciless pummel of CPR on her small ribs. Anselm wouldn’t give up, even when they heard her ribs crack or when G-min pointed out how blue her lips were with a gentle hand on his shoulder, urging him to stop.

Y/n was gone, taken by Jungkook’s father amongst the commotion of it all–but Jin remained. He couldn’t look away, not when bile buzzed and crackled in his throat or his hands went numb.

He didn't feel like he had a right to. It was his punishment to watch.

G-min was the one who forced him away from the scene, zombie-like and entranced in his shock. The entire house succumbing to screams and the broken wails of grief was what he was welcomed with, everything moving in a blur as though in slow motion, words meshing and melding together like his ears were stuffed with cotton. His mother clasped her face in his hands, urging him back to the present as she cried–but he couldn’t find it.

Yeongjin met his eyes over his mother's head, and in that moment–for the first time in his entire life–he found sympathy. He found an understanding that only the two of them could possibly share. He felt the burden lift from his shoulders ever so slightly as his father approached.

“I told you to leave it be.” He lamented to Jin in a murmur, engulfing him in his arms. “This is why we don’t engage in personal matters. It hurts too much.”

He stayed in his parents' room for days following her discovery, hiding away from his friends to keep the shame he felt to himself. The guilt of not doing more. The guilt of turning away from them and going back to bed.

Jin kept what he had seen to himself for a month. An entire month of holding onto the image of Anselm standing on the landing with Matilda’s arm in his grasp, or his strange demeanor as he wandered the dining room after catching Jin realigning the shoes. He told himself he couldn’t possibly have done something to her–not when he loved her so dearly and had seemed so genuinely distraught at finding her in the lake.

But his gut knew better. It always did.

Thoughts of the overheard discussion from earlier that year haunted him each day, swirling around him and blinking like a neon sign. He knew he would have no choice but to tell them. So he did, one unsuspecting Wednesday evening in mid-August while locked away in the Wörner office, shaking with nerves and sinking with guilt.

“That’s not possible. He was–he was in bed with me when I got up. There would be no possible way for him to return from the trail, shower, make his way back to bed and fall asleep in such a short amount of time.” Mariah shook her head violently.

“Are you questioning my son again? After what happened?” Yeongjin scoffed. “You asked him to abuse his gift and now you are refusing to listen.”

Mariah laughed, utter denial painting her features. “Because it’s not physically possible!”

“I think it’s about time you start accepting that what’s happening here doesn’t abide by the rules of our world, Ms. Wörner.” Yeongjin set his jaw, boring into her with poorly concealed rage.

“This is ridiculous. I will not be humoring the idea that my daughter died because of some…some curse or supernatural reason. That is absolutely absurd.” Mariah dismissed with a wave of her hand.

“Ask him.” Jin surprised himself with his sudden interruption, gripping the edge of the table with his fingers until his knuckles turned white. Everyone turned to look at him in differing levels of shock, so he gestured to Anselm with his chin, hiding his own nervous tremors behind a mask of calm. “Ask him.”

Mariah threw her hands up in exasperation, chuckling at the absurdity of it. “Yes of course. Why didn’t I think of that?” She twisted herself on the office sofa to face her husband, looking at him expectantly. “Did you kill our daughter?”

Silence blanketed them. The kind that was heavy with the unsaid, dragging their stomachs down through the floor.

“Anselm–” Mariah laughed again, nervously. “This isn’t a difficult question to answer.”

Anselm kept his head bowed, his spine curled inwards on the plush red office chair he was slumped in. He looked to her, eyes glistening with emotion.

“Anselm.” Mariah narrowed her eyes at him, tone falling short of cutting.

Anselm took in a shaky breath, letting it fall from his mouth in a disheartened sigh. “I don’t know.”

Mariah was paralyzed by his admittance–resembling more of a photograph to Jin than someone sitting in the same room as him. She wasn’t even breathing. She finally opened her mouth, speaking through clenched teeth. “That’s not an answer, Anselm.”

“Well, it’s mine.” Anselm murmured, finally glancing up to meet Jin’s eyes. “I remember getting out of bed to stretch my legs after a bad dream. And I remember seeing you organizing the shoes.” He looked straight through Jin. “But I don’t remember anything after that. Even the memory itself is hazy, like that too could have been a part of the dream.” He turned to his wife. “I don’t remember ever going back to bed.”

Mariah looked washed out and tense, her fingers digging into the sofa cushions next to her. “That doesn’t mean you-”

“I was with Matilda in my dream.” Anselm cut her off. “And we were at the lake.” He lifted his hands to look at, flexing his fingers into fists and relaxing them. “In my dream, the voices–they were telling me things. That she was an imposter–a demon mimicking my daughter. That she was going to hurt us if I didn’t act.” He choked back a sob, clawing at his own throat as though to keep it in or rip it out–Jin couldn’t tell. “It was like I couldn’t stop myself. I remember seeing fireworks, I remember being, so enraged. Like I wasn’t in control of my own body, watching it from behind a screen like a bad dream.” He hung his head low, shoulders shaking as he cried. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Gott vergib mir….”

Mariah was sitting rigid on the sofa, then before Jin could blink she was up and on her feet, wrenching open the door that separated the office from their bedroom and slamming it shut behind her.

Yeongjin gripped Jin’s shoulder, shaking him gently. “Go find mom. I will find you after.” He shot a guarded glance over to Anselm who was too busy melting into a puddle of his own misery to notice, then disappeared after Mariah. Jin couldn’t help but utilize Anselm being distracted as a moment of opportunity, sneaking up to the door and pressing his ear against it to listen.

“I can’t do this. I can’t–” Mariah was heaving through her sobs. “I want a divorce. I need to get the other girls away from him–he needs help, Yeongjin. I can’t look at him ever again.”

“Yes you can,” Yeongjin soothed. “You have to. It will only make things worse.”

“No.” Mariah held strong. “I’m taking him to a hospital and I’m leaving him there to rot!”

Jin’s father sighed sharply, and he heard the floorboards creak under his striking steps. “Listen to me! I’ve been trying to tell you that something would inevitably happen for months now. No hospital is going to help him! It’s time you woke up to see what’s been staring you in the face for far too long, Ms. Wörner.”

There was a pause before she spoke again. “Okay! Fine!” She audibly sniffled. “What do I do?”

“I can’t help you now.” Yeongjin conceded apologetically. “Things are already in motion. If we interfere–it could hurt our children too.”

“How am I supposed to do all this on my own?! How am I supposed to fix a problem I don’t know a damn thing about!” Mariah began to breathe heavily. “This is why I never wanted to buy into any of Margaret’s mysticism. It put all the weight on my shoulders! Why can’t he fix it?”

“Because he’s compromised,” Yeongjin rebutted, doing his best to keep Mariah’s volume low.

Mariah scoffed. “Well he wasn’t compromised his whole life now, was he?”

“Maybe.”

Jin heard Mariah slump onto one of their ornate ottomans in front of their closet right beside the door, taking deep breaths in to control herself. “If I am to fix this mess, I’m going to need some kind of help. I don’t even know where to start.”

“Start with what we’ve already given you, and whatever you can find from what Margaret left behind. I’m sure the historical society will prove rather useful.”

“This is crazy…” Mariah’s voice fizzled out. “Can I ask you one thing, Yeongjin? Or is that forbidden?”

His father’s weight slumped across from her on the vanity stool on the opposite side of the door, and his head thumped back against the wall where he rested it, unknowingly sandwiching Jin between their defeated sighs. “Just one. I can’t promise any kind of answer.”

Mariah exhaled sharply, cursing under her breath before Jin heard her fall onto the ottoman entirely, her voice smushed by the cushion digging into her cheek–sounding almost juvenile in a way Jin had never heard her sound. “My other girls. Are they safe?”

Jin wanted to shout through the door his own answer, but bit his cheek instead, listening to see what his father would say.

“You know…” Yeongjin clicked his tongue a few times as he meticulously formulated an answer. “I heard that Hershey has an amazing boarding school program. It would keep them away from the house for most of the year while still close enough to visit.”

The silence lasted so long after his answer that Jin had started to move away from the door, barely catching Mariah’s seething whisper.

“Take him away from me. If I see him right now, I might kill him myself. I need time.”

_________________________________________

Jin became a regular in their office. He was, after all, a key witness and most valuable asset in whatever was occurring. Whatever childhood Jin had was stripped from him that year, and hung to dry through the bitter winter and budding spring. His father refused to help them–as did all of the other parents. Each one of them wordlessly took a step away from any more hefty discussions or late-night meetings, as though this response had been programmed into them, lying asleep beneath the surface until something triggered it to activate.

But Jin wasn’t one of them.

There were too many nights spent crying–wishing he had taken the extra moment to pray over Matilda’s sneakers, or resist the parents’ reassurance. He would lie there for hours scrutinizing every little mistake he had made leading up to the moment she died, from the direction his cup had faced that morning at breakfast down to how many times he scrubbed across his teeth with his toothbrush. Like underneath all of the mundane, he would find the true reasoning lurking at the bottom of his daily schedule. Like it was the undeniable truth that somehow it was his fault.

Jin wouldn’t call himself a manipulator, but if there was one thing he had learned from his father’s own answer that night, was that bending the rules was the only way to survive their gift. Each morning, he would disguise his request for security as a prayer, praying that he hoped each of his friends by name would be safe that day from whatever was lurking in the walls of the house. And if something in his gut twitched–he knew who to keep an eye on that day.

That summer, when he had predicted Hoseok’s fall from the rafters of the summer ballet down to the very moment it was to occur, was when he stopped believing in god. Because no matter what little actions he made to try and keep Hoseok from going that night, fate inevitably ran its course. He could only let so many of his friends suffer because “god” didn’t want him to intervene before he would throw the towel in. So he stopped asking ‘God’ for answers entirely, settling for the other ‘being’ within him that had no face, and no name. For if it was the devil, Jin found him better company.

He read the bible regularly with his father, pushed forth by a newfound interest, much to his mislead delight. He wasn't doing it because he believed, but instead soaking up the stories of wrath and vengeance, finding holes and weak threads the men who translated left behind when they used God to justify death, loss, and war. Hatred and self-righteousness. All of it bubbling over into his life until his prayers with his father turned bitter and cynical, sounding more like a one-sided interrogation than an act of reverence.

It wasn’t that he hated god per se, more so he hated how easily he let people abuse his name. How he just sat back and let people brandish his name for whatever they thought was important. He just wanted answers–a reason why Jin would be considered selfish and sinful for helping those he loved, but those who used him as a shield to remain blind and indifferent to suffering were not.

Years ground on like rusted metal cogs, all of them feeling the same when one no longer found solace or identity with their youth. As was the case ninety-nine percent of his childhood. However, there was that one percent, where the planets seemed to align just right and give him the perfect amount of shadow to hide away in for just a short while.

“Jin!”

His nose twitched, the loud whisper barely distrubing him from his daily assigned reading.

There was a small huddle of hushed voices that convened on the other side of the propped open study doors–the sound of trouble Jin could easily recognize. Their meeting ceased, and the same voice called out again, impish and tailing off into a small giggle.

“Jiiiinnnnnn~”

Jin let his eyes snap up to the doorway, counting the stacked heads of the four usual suspects he could easily pin for any crime around the house. Y/n’s eyes gleamed at him from around the wood, a mischievous grin stretched out over her features. She procured a neon orange toy gun from behind her back and held it out for him to see like she was auctioning off a prize on a game show.

“Care to join us? We are playing capture the flag and we need one more person.”

Jin shook his head on instinct, eyes flitting back down to his book. “I see four of you. That looks like an even number to me.”

Y/n groaned theatrically, cradling the fake weapon to her chest. “Yes, now it looks even. But Yoongi said he’d join us if we left him alone for the afternoon, which makes it odd.”

His lips quirked to the side in thought, pinching the pages left of his mandatory reading with a minute frown. “I don’t know. I have to finish this–plus my dad would-”

“Your dad’s not home.” Yoongi drawled from the stairs, sauntering into frame with tired eyes, looking pointedly at Jin. “If I have to do this crap, then so do you.”

Jimin gasped, scandalized. “You said a bad worrrddd!”

There was a chorus of teasing ‘oooooooo’s that came when one child got in trouble under another’s watch.

Yoongi glared in a way that conveyed no real anger, playfully shoving at whoever was closest–who just so happened to be Y/n–with a cocky smirk. “And I can say a lot worse ones if you’d like.”

Jin noted the way Y/n seemed to grow flustered momentarily, stammering over her words as her attention fixed back on Jin. “W-what do you say Jin? We won’t tell.”

The preteen in question looked down at his book, weighing the pros and cons in his mind. It’s not that his father never wanted him to play–in fact, he actively encouraged it. It was just that the group in front of him had a reputation for taking things too far in ways his father didn’t approve of. Jin nibbled at his lip, a part of him begging to just snatch the toy and run off with it without question. The other half worried about doing what he thought was right.

Y/n stepped closer, jutting her bottom lip out and giving him her best puppy-dog eyes. “Pleeaassseeee!”

Jin looked up to her from his spot on the couch, and in that moment he let himself ponder the activity in a way he had been taught to view as silly and selfish. Envisioning the game, and the mental image of his father to see what his ‘devil’ told him. When no thoughts of scolding or true trouble plagued him, he stood.

They all waited on baited breath for his answer, Hoseok already beginning to make some comment about how much of a buzzkill Jin was when the answer came to him.

A smile, truly bright and joyful took over his features and he closed his heavy book and dropped it onto the coffee table. Y/n rejoiced as he took the toy in his hands and let her lead him through the foyer and down the winding halls to the back door.

“Okay, so teams of three. You, me, and Jungkook on one; Yoongi, Jimin, and Hoseok on the other.” Y/n leapt from the top step and landed barefoot on the grass. “No shots are off-limits because we aren’t a bunch of babies. Just don’t lie if it doesn’t stick to your shirt.” She gave a pointed glare to Hoseok.

The teams naturally split, the trios fanning out in opposite directions across the yard. “Three shots and you need to get tagged back in by another player. And then the usual capture the flag rules. Here, put this on.” Y/n tossed him one of the mesh shirts designed so the foam bullets would stick to them.

“Got it.” He shimmied the fabric over his t-shirt. “Where’s our flag?”

Jungkook grunted, gesturing him to follow into the tree line. About twenty-five yards in Jungkook stopped tilting his head back at an awkward angle and pointing to the sky. “Here.”

Jin shielded his eyes from the filtering rays of sun to see the red triangle hung from a tree branch nearly ten feet off the ground. “Jeez! How’d you get that up there….”

“I just climbed.” Jungkook blinked at him as though the answer was obvious.

Jin nodded in approval, ruffling his hair playfully. “Good job, Kook.” The younger boy grumbled, swatting the elders hands away.

“Offense or defense?” Y/n asked, skipping to a stop next to them.

“Huh?” Jin took his hands from Jungkook’s head much to the latter’s relief.

Y/n sighed. “Do you want to guard the flag or take the field? Jungkook always plays mid.”

Jin felt the grip of his responsibilities already start slipping away and his eyes lit up with a playful gleam. “Guard the flag. I’m the eldest of course, and the most responsible. Obviously.”

Y/n rolled her eyes but giggled nonetheless, grinning at him. “I was hoping you’d say that.” She looked back over her shoulder to peer through the trees back at the yard. “It looks like they are just about ready. What’s our team name gonna be?”

“Duh,” Jin gestured to himself sarcastically. “Team Seokjin.”

Y/n deadpanned at him. “Absolutely not.”

“Absolutely yes.” Jin corrected, holding up a finger in the air triumphantly. “I am the oldest, I get final say.”

“S’fine with me.” Jungkook shrugged, tying his black belt made to hold extra bullets around his waist.

“See! He has taste.” Jin smirked down at Y/n. “It’s good luck you know.”

Y/n scrunched her face up in distaste, not batting an eye when Jungkook stalked over to fix her ammunition belt, securing it tighter and slipping a couple of his own bullets in the holder. “How?”

“Because I’m on the team.” Jin shrugged. “And majority rules anyway.”

“Fine. But you better prove that it’s good luck otherwise I’m choosing our name next round!”

Jungkook and Y/n took off back towards the yard shortly after, Jungkook crouching low at the edge of the woods and Y/n staking claim on the grassy field, a set of twin toy pistols loaded and ready to shoot. The weapon they gave Jin was longer, designed to resemble more of a sniper rifle than the handguns Y/n wielded. Jin lay down on his belly to hide himself and avoid giving away their exact location, sliding himself under some of the brush and propping his weapon towards where the other team should come from.

He heard Y/n shout out a countdown, and then the yard turned into a blur of color. Neon orange and yellow dots flying in all directions as Y/n dodged them, leaping side to side, tangled in a brutal standoff with Jimin before she made a break for the other side with Jimin hot on her tail. Jungkook slinked more like an animal along the brush, awaiting for any signal from Jin or Y/n to act fast.

“Jungkook! I’m down!” Y/n screamed from across the lawn and out of Jin’s sight. “Avenge meeeeee!” As expected, Jungkook took off in an instant, leaving Jin to defend this side of the field alone.

The urge to prove himself to them was overtaking him. This was something he didn’t get to do very often, and he didn’t want it to be the last time they asked him. So again, he was incredibly selfish–something that contrary to his expectations, actually made him feel good for once. Happy. And what did it matter anymore? He didn’t believe in god anyway. Right? What punishment could he receive from someone he doesn’t believe in?

He thought of Hoseok and Yoongi, and the flag behind him flapping idly in the low wind, letting the sounds surround him as his heartbeat thudded in anticipation. The answer didn’t come like one of God’s answers, it came like a gentle insinuation in his brain. Like there could be no other possible answer.

Another smile wormed onto his face–this one confident and boyish–and cocked his toy gun to ready his first shot.

As the second eldest, Yoongi may brand himself as distant and sort of standoffish, but deep down he was still like the rest of them–a kid who wanted to win. He had his cold and prickly facade to give Y/n and Jungkook the element of surprise, for no one would expect him to be the first choice for the offensive player. Well, everyone except Jin.

Yoongi’s sneakers crunched across the fallen twigs and piled up underbrush as he leapt from one patch of earth to the other, spine curved low so his dark clothing would blend into his surroundings as much as possible. His thin legs moved expertly, each step confident and and assured. But he had yet to see Jin.

Jin tracked him with the nose of his weapon, one eye closed to give himself the best chance. Yoongi paused, neck stretching up to scope the area above the bushes and exposing the top of his vest to Jin’s mercy.

He pulled the trigger without hesitation, landing one foam bullet at the collar of Yoongi’s shirt just as Yoongi ducked down at the sharp sound. Yoongi let out a string of his promised curses from behind the foliage, sliding along his belly to avoid another hit. Jin moved with him, crawling parallel to him as to not lose his next chance. When Yoongi tried to roll from the end of that line of brush to a moss-ridden tree, Jin landed his second shot on his back, grinning to himself as the bullet wobbled upon impact. Jin scrambled to his feet as Yoongi disappeared behind the tree and stamped himself to the back of the same trunk, holding his breath so Yoongi wouldn’t hear his proximity.

Jin didn’t even have to think about it this time; he was so invested that he just knew which side Yoongi would try to slink around. He matched their steps, sidling against the tree trunk and out of the other boy’s sight. He peered around the edge, watching as Yoongi dropped to a crouch and looked from side to side, staring at the spot where Jin had originally hunkered down with a clouded expression.

Taking his chance, he swung his weapon around and barely aimed, finishing Yoongi off with his final blow.

The Younger boy shouted in protest, groaning in frustration as he fell. “I hate this game…”

Jin grinned triumphantly down at him, reloading his gun and propping it on his shoulder. “Maybe you should just get better at it.”

There was a victorious shout from across the field, Y/n was running full speed back to the treeline with Jungkook at her side, the red flag of the opposite team scrunched in Jungkook’s fist.

They played three rounds–and team Seokjin won all three of them.

Jin played offense the second time, letting his intuition guide him freely without thought straight to their flag. No strange voices and answers in his head, just his feeling–just him.

“That’s no fair–you guys must have cheated!” Hoseok whined from his seat, watermelon juice dribbling down his chin, which Jin on instinct reached out with a napkin to swipe at.

“Nope. I’m just older and smarter than you. Maybe you should’ve asked me to be on your team.” Jin shrugged.

Yoongi looked at him as though trying to pick him apart, eyes squinted nearly closed. “Uh huh. Sure.”

“It’s the truth!” Jin gestured his with his watermelon slice with a theatrical flair. “The luck is in the team name, losers.”

“I guess Team Seokjin is lucky.” Y/n giggled from her spot near him, sandwiched tightly between Jungkook and Hoseok while Jimin tried not to look like he was pouting on the other side of the outdoor table.

Jin practically glowed with enthusiasm. “Of course it is! Because it’s named after the wisest one of the bunch.” He shoved a rather large chunk of watermelon in his mouth, the fruit exploding on his tongue and nearly choking him.

“I don’t know. I still think you all were up to something.” Yoongi maintained his glare, still bitter for his loss for someone that didn’t even want to play in the first place. “Something fishy…”

The afternoon passed by like a drifting ship, gliding through the hours and offering Jin the moment to be free from it all. The pressure, the weight of knowing, the need to obsessively check the shoes by the door and the restless unease he always felt let him go while he was with his friends, locked in a tumultuous game of Monopoly–a game Jin figured out that his gut couldn’t always help him with.

Y/n and Hoseok wanted to go about their usual evening brigades of chasing the insects around the flora, all while the others watched from the porch, tired out from their afternoon games of chase. Yoongi took up the porch step next to Jin, who brought out his reading to flit through while he kept an eye on them from afar.

“How do you read that stuff? Whenever I hear it, it’s always so boring.” Yoongi dropped his chin onto his palm, looking blankly at the book in Jin’s hands.

Jin’s nose twitched. “I’m supposed to. Plus important to read things even if you don’t necessarily agree with them. It helps you form opinions.”

Yoongi hummed. “Do you?”

“Do I what?” Jin blinked at him with wide eyes, not sure he understood him.

“Agree with it all.” Yoongi gestured to the book. “I know I don’t.”

Jin hesitated, too scared to voice his answer aloud. Yoongi watched his silent battle, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards into a half-friendly smile. “It’s alright if you don’t. I won’t tell on you.”

Jin looked over his shoulder at the glass doors to the living room, half expecting to find his father looming there, ready to catch him in the act. When he found no such image, he turned back to Yoongi and leaned in close, finding comfort in whispered secrecy.

“No.”

Yoongi leaned in too. “Cool. But why are we whispering?”

“Because they can’t know. I’m not supposed to think this way–I’ll get in trouble.”

“Oh.” Yoongi frowned slightly, looking up to Jin like he could see his anxiety plan as day, responding with rare sincerity. “I really won’t tell.”

Jin looked to him gratefully–it truly felt good to confess what he has been mulling over out loud. “Thanks.”

“Yeah.” Yoongi nodded, staring out into the grass while fidgeting in his seat for a few moments like he didn’t know what to say. He then turned back to Jin and bumped his shoulder playfully with his own. “That means you’ve joined the rebel group now, huh?”

“W-what? No!” Jin flushed immediately. Being a rebel meant being ‘bad’.

“Defying the rules and sneaking around is the definition of a rebel, don’t fight it.” Yoongi got to his feet and skipped down the last two steps at a leisurely pace. “I’m going to help the two dimwits who just knocked over the garden fence. See you later.”

Jin moved to stand too, the name given to him made his behavior today feel more real, and he wanted to escape back inside to the safety of the study and the routine it nourished. He was stopped by Yoongi’s voice again.

“Hey Jin?”

“Yeah?” Jin turned to face him quickly, hands icking at the leather of his book.

“I had fun with you today.” Yoongi nodded up to him with a crooked smile. “Rebellion looks good on you.”

_________________________________________

Yoongi’s reassurance stuck with him like his words had funneled straight from his mouth and into his skin, branding him with a tattoo only Jin could see. Even as the years chugged onward, he remembered it. Not that Yoongi did it knowingly–there was no way he could have–but it was the first time he had been complimented after doing something for himself. Comforted instead of disciplined by his parents or by fate. In a way he owed his newfound freedom to him.

For his first act of intended rebellion was music.

Playing his guitar on the guest house porch offered him refuge from it all. It was a safe place to express himself freely without judgement, to explore and learn away from his father’s watchful eye. To sin in ways his father would never approve of.

His second act of rebellion was vastly different and about ten thousand times more extreme. To say he took leaps and bounds would be an understatement. It was in the place he had grown much too comfortable in over the years, draped in red curtains and burgundy sofas, locked away from any prying eyes where he did the unthinkable.

Jin was there, reminiscing over the details of that cursed night in July on a piece of notebook paper that he would then “accidentally” drop onto the floor for Mariah to pick up in a few minutes upon her return from work. On the bottom of the page, he would write out whether or not he had gotten any strange murmurs in his gut that morning and who and what they were referring to–or whether or not he had any spiritual encounters and every small detail he had on them.

On this particular night, he was exhausted. His head ached so terribly he thought it mind explode, and his face was tender and puffy. He had eaten through multiple tissue boxes that week and if the world could run on sniffle-powered energy, he would have the entire country acounted for from this week alone. It made him weak–both physically and mentally. Jin was one dose of cold medicine away from just forfeiting this ridiculous ritual and speaking to Mariah upfront. Whatever he could do to bring justice to Matilda and sooth her soul that was so full of unrest as of late.

His free time was plentiful. His apprenticeship under his father was going smoothly, and it left his afternoons open for whatever else he pleased. He had half a mind to go down to the historical society and start digging himself–if he wasn’t conscious of what that could mean for the rest of his family. Mariah never fully involved him, never told him any details that could put him in harm's way. But he was growing anxious, for both himself and Matilda. He knew there was more than met the eye with her situation, and wouldn’t rest until he found the answers he sought.

The door the office opened, and Jin didn’t bother straightening himself from his slouched position on the couch. He was sure it had to be Mariah anyways. But before he could register the footsteps pounding across the rug, the paper was ripped from his hands with a shout.

“What are you doing!” His father hissed down at him, eyes scanning the paper too fast for Jin to stop. “This is–is this what you’ve been up to in here? Meddling with their business? Putting all of our lives at risk?”

Jin felt his anger bubbling back to the surface, brows creasing as he jumped up to snatch the paper back from his hands. “I’m helping a friend–that hardly accounts to meddling.”

Yeongjin’s face may have started to show signs of age–a few wrinkles on his forehead that always seemed to be present or the faint sunspots on the backs of his hands–but his look of admonishment was still as sharp as it was when he was a kid.

“That is meddling! I didn’t raise you to be so reckless-”

“No, you raised me to be a coward!” Jin bit back, surprising even himself. Yeongjin looked taken aback as well, taking a half step back towards the door.

His father leveled a finger at him, lips pressed into a thin line. “You will not speak to me that way. I am your father and you will listen to me when I tell you to stop this–now. There are things you don’t understand about what you’re messing with. The lengths it will go–” Yeongjin cut himself off with a huff, and held up the crumpled piece of paper. “This? Ends tonight. You are no longer allowed in this room alone.”

Inside Jin was screaming. His anger had turned a shade darker, ravishing his insides and turning them into a boiling liquid that toiled behind his lips he had to bite to keep closed. It was then that his father tossed the paper into the fireplace, letting it erupt into flames in tandem with Jin’s restraint.

“Well it looks like I will just be writing another one.” Jin shrugged with enough sass to get him grounded if he wasn’t an adult.

Yeongjin narrowed his eyes at his son. “You won’t.”

“I will,” Jin replied simply. “I’ll write them at work, in the bathroom–heck I’ll write them at the church and walk them down to the post office to mail to her. Whatever it means to keep my friends safe.”

“Safe?” Yeongjin laughed bitterly. “You’re putting them in danger. Why don’t you understand that?”

“I can’t understand what you won’t tell me!” Jin challenged.

“ I don’t need to tell you anything. I will share it with you when you are ready.”

Jin rolled his eyes. “Oh right–when ‘God’ says it’s the right time. How could I possibly forget…”

An ear-ringing silence took a hold of the office as Jin realized what he had said. He had no interest in taking it back though.

“Excuse me?” Yeongjin looked at him with deadly dark eyes.

Jin almost fell to his father’s look he had feared so much growing up, almost backtracked and felt his childhood self start to wither beneath it. Almost.

“Let’s not pretend like you aren’t aware of how I feel. How I’ve felt for a long time.” He finally forced out, his hands shaking from the adrenaline of it all. “How could you expect me to still love a god that killed one of my friends, and tried to kill another?” That shames me and guilts me into hating myself?”

His father tensed. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I don’t believe in him anymore. Even if he is real, I don’t want to devote myself to someone who watches people suffer.” Jin seethed, fists clenching at his side.

Yeongjin was on him in a second, gripping his shoulders and shaking him in a fear-induced fever, one hand clamping down on his lips to keep any more words from coming out. “Don’t say any more.”

Jin didn’t expect to see such unbridled terror on his fathers face–his wide eyes washing over him like a bucket of ice water.

“You can’t–We can’t say that…” Yeongjin shook his head. “I don’t care what you believe in–but you will act like you love him. Put on the best show of your life as you pray to him! But you will not say that you don’t believe in him. Not here.”

“Dad…” Jin pried his father’s hand from his mouth and looked to him with worry.

Yeongjin released him, stumbling back towards the door with unsteady breaths. “Listen to me when I say this–follow the rules, put on your best show, and stay out of their business. Please.”

His father didn’t wait fora response, his fingers coiling around the office door handled and turning it.

“Do you believe in him?” Jin asked suddenly, stopping him in his tracks.

Yeongjin sighed, looking back to his son with something akin to pity. “I do what must be done. And so will you.”

Jin stared at the empty space where is father had been, replaying his words over and over again in his mind until they embedded themselves deep in his brain. His eyes danced with the orange glow of the hearth, taking to watching the ashes of the note sift to the bottom of the fireplace. And he didn’t think twice when he wrote up another one, leaving it to sit on the cushion of the sofa for Mariah to find. His father’s fear may haunt him, but so did Matilda. And she deserved just as much respect.

That wasn’t to say as the weeks passed that his father’s confession didn’t follow him–poisoning the well of his memories for him to replay over and over again, thinking of every interaction he’d had with him to date and picking apart the smallest of differences. Taking note of where he might have seen him falter.

There was no denying the fact that it felt good to be seen that way–as much as it flipped his entire world upside down. But it left him wondering just why his father was so keen on keeping up with a religion he didn’t believe in, and so fervently nonetheless.

He never dared to test it–not yet at least. He played the part his father played, the two of them going to church and reading together by the fire of the study at night. Mariah stopped asking him for updates, and Jin assumed it had something to do with his dad having a word with her behind closed doors.

Y/n’s graduation had come and gone, and after plenty of celebration, something stirred within Jin’s belly as he watched her follow her father around the property, catching the cracks in Anselm’s mask form when she would turn away or brush too close to him. Like a caged animal threatening to break through at any moment.

And to Jin’s surprise, it was Anselm that had come to Jin first, begging him to meet them in his office one final time.

Of course he obliged, even if seeing him still brought a sense of unease that never seemed to go away until he left.

“I’m going to kill her. I know I will.” Anselm’s confession hung over Jin and Mariah heavily. “The more she trains under me, the more I feel it growing. I can’t sleep anymore. Whatever is inside me wants me to find her–and I’m worried I won’t be able to stop myself again.”

“Then we need to send you on another trip. Get you out of the house for a bit. “ Mariah paced behind the sofa. “I have everyone here to help me care for Roland–we will be fine here until you come back.”

“No, that won’t be enough.” Anselm lamented. “We need to…She can’t take over after me. That’s what they are angry about. They want Roland to take over.”

Mariah froze. “No. That’s not an option. That will break her Anselm and you know it. We can’t do that to her–we can’t give in.”

“We have to.” Anselm flopped back against the couch, rubbing his eyes with his hands. “It’s the only way.”

“You can’t be sure of that…”

Anselm’s hands dropped to his lap, his eyes flashing an inhumane gold. “I can.”

Jin’s breath hitched at the energy shift in the room. It was surreal, watching him move his eyes that seemed to pulse in his skull like they were going to burst.

“We need to do it soon. I can’t…I can’t hold them back much longer.”

“What can I do to help?” Jin spoke up, unsure what he was needed for in the first place. Both eyes turned to him, and Anselm coughed into his sleeve, his voice growing rough.

“I need you to tell her so she will believe me–Will I kill her if she stays?”

His skin crawled under his swirling stare, but his intuition that had now become easy to control switched on anyways, answering easily. “Yes.”

“Then…” Anselm cleared his throat. “We have to tell her we’ve changed our minds.”

“‘We?’” Mariah parroted hopelessly. “This is your decision. Not mine. I can’t do that to her–

I’ve lost enough time with her being gone at boarding school as it is. She’d never forgive me.”

Anselm looked to her, begging. “You have to. If whatever this is takes hold of me, she will hear it in my voice. If she fights it might trigger it…”

Mariah through her hands up in the air with a stifled cry. “Are you not even going to try?”

“I’ll try. I promise.” He held a hand out for her to take, and she did so with a squeeze. “I promise I’ll try.”

_________________________________________

January was a bitter kind of cold. Made all the more blistering by the absence of Y/n–this month marking an entire year since Mariah had been the one to chase her off. Like lightning cracking a path down a tree trunk, splitting it open like an ugly wound, Y/n’s departure scattered them all. Namjoon disappeared for university, Jungkook became reclusive–only talking to Jimin and Hoseok if they were lucky. Yoongi was gone–not that his leave particularly surprised anyone.

Hoseok remained under the pretense of being unsure of where to go next, but Jin knew the real reason. Thus, he made it a point to spend time with him on any evening he could tie him down in the dining room long enough for a card game. This became a comforting routine for both of them, especially when the blow of their hiring Taehyung to take over during Hoseok’s indecision struck his friend like a firing squad: a blow to his ego, a blow to his heart, and a blow to his motivation. Hoseok never spoke of it though, keeping the hurt to himself as he fiddled with cutesy go-fish cards or spun bingo cages.

His notes to Mariah slowed, for there was almost no one left to write about. No one left to check in on in the morning.

Jin felt souless.

Who was he if he wasn’t caring for them? He had spent so many years fretting over every little detail that when faced with the prospect of individuality and freedom, he didn’t take it.

Mariah had kept him out of whatever it was she was doing still, and he latched on to that. It felt wrong not to be a part of it. His parents were starting to spend more time away now, making memories with each other again, now that he was an adult of his own. They had two years to fly around until Jin was expected to graduate anyways, so why not make the most of it? It gave him more room to do what they explicitly told him not to do.

He found himself at the lake, crusted over with thick sheets of white and littered with tree branches snow. The cold turned his nose red, and his fingertips numb, his breath freezing in the air in front of him where he stood, boots shuffling over the edge of the ice as he willed himself to just ask the question–reopen that door to a god he wanted nothing to do with.

Jin’s lips parted with a puff of steam, his voice smaller than he imagined. “What happened here?”

A bird flew overhead, flapping dark black wings as it zipped into the barren branches. Squirrels bounced in frantic paths across the snow. He grit his teeth, waiting.

“What happened here that night?” Jin tried for a second time. “With Matilda.”

Serene was the scene before him, the usually quiet woods muted to something more than silent from the layer of snow that swallowed any noise nearby. Nothing was stopping the clear voice in his head that used to scare him into submission so much as a child except it's own refusal to make an appearance.

“This is why I can’t trust you,” Jin began, hot anger clashing with the frigid air. “You never show up when I need you to. You never do anything that makes any sense. Where are you now after putting so much pressure on me as a kid? Why did I deserve it then and not now?” He whirled around to take in the vast, empty world of white, speaking to nothing. “Where are you?”

He laughed bitterly, smacking a hand on his thigh like he was just told the best joke he had ever heard. “That’s right! You’re not here!” He looked up, squinting into the overcast sky. “You’re not here because you’re not real. Is that it?” He dropped his hands again, throwing them into an exaggerated shrug. “Actually, don’t bother answering that. I don’t care. I wouldn't want to believe in you even if you did.” He spun on his heels, trying to blink away the dark shapes burned into his vision by the sun.

Jin screamed. White hot pain scorched through his shoulder as what felt like thousands of needles punctured through the skin there, straight through his coat and sweater, soaking his chest with heat. Hands flailed, catching on slippery skin and shoving the animal off of him. He still couldn’t see well, eyes adjusting from the sun-splotches to focus on the shape in front of him.

“Repent. For he is our god.” The woman in front of him might as well have been an animal for all Jin knew, with multiple sets of eyes blinking from concaves in her cheeks, and skin hardened and stretched thin over protruding bones. She spat at him through rows of sharp teeth dyed crimson from his blood. A true demon was looking at him through yellow black eyes and coming onto him-fast.

Fingers dug into his shoulders, pressing into his open wounds until he cried out. He was shoved to his knees before her, completely at her mercy.

“Say it.”

“Say wha-” Her palm met his cheek with a sharp crack.

“Say it, or be punished. This is no way to thank him for what gifts he has given unto you and your family.”

Jin breathed heavily, his mouth tasting of iron. He was shaking. “I’m sorry. He is…he is our god.”

All of our eyes blinked down at him, each with its own individual rhythm. Studying him. “Not good enough. Again.” His face stung as her hand came down upon it again.

“H-he is our god!”

“You did not apologize.”

His lip split with her next blow, and her fingers curled deeper into his wound. He cried, begging for relief with as much passion as he could put into his voice. “I’m sorry! He is our god!”

Her hand lifted from his shoulder, coming back to grip the back of his head and yank it upwards to look at her. “Do you think that is good enough?”

“I don’t know what else you want me to do!” Jin winced, his shoulder throbbing so violently he almost couldn’t think of anything else. “I’m doing what you told me to do!”

“I want you to do better than that!” She pried his mouth open with two fingers, pinching his tongue between them with a pressure that made his eyes water. “How about I take this out, then maybe you will learn to speak to him with respect.”

“That is enough!” Another voice commanded from over the hill, and the woman’s neck snapped to greet it.

“You!” She hissed, long black tongue making a clicking sound behind her teeth. “You disgraceful witch!” The woman lunged at the newcomer, leaving Jin to collapse onto the snow. She moved liked a spider, all wild limbs and unpredictable.

Running to meet her was a much younger woman, around Jin’s age with dark wavy hair pulled back and our of her face. Her hand outstretched in front of her, dangling a string of beads in colors of black, white and green. From her pocket, she threw a handful of what Jin could only describe as flower petals at the demon, who recoiled from both.

The demon clicked her teeth together, red and black viscous fluid dripping down her chin onto the snow. They circled one another in a tense standoff.

“Seokjin, get up. Come here.” The younger beckoned to him, setting herself between him and the demon.

Jin struggled to his feet, grunting through the pain it took to come to a swaying stand. Once he stumbled to her side, she gave him a quick once-over from the corner of her eye and bit her lower lip. She nodded to the demon in front of them.

“He has apologized like you asked. Now let him go. A deal has been made with them, you can not just break it so carelessly.”

“Carelessly? Did you not hear him? He broke it himself–more than once today. You have always been so demanding. So callous and disrespectful. Perhaps it is you who needs to be punished!” Spit flew across the gap, landing on the woman’s cheek and sizzling upon contact. She didn’t flinch.

“Do not bother trying.” The younger woman stood steadfast. “Do these not look familiar to you?” She shook the beads in her hands, and Jin was able to see them clearly. It was a rosary not unlike his own, the silver cross dangling proudly out in the open. “They are holy. They were yours.”

“No!” Many eyes blazed with fury, teeth barred as a threat–the demon growing impatient. “Do not tell such lies! That is a talisman of the devil!” She attempted to lunge at Jin again, incensed and snapping, but the woman’s hand stopped her.

“No. That is what you have been told to think.” Finally, she angled her head to speak to Jin. “You must run, child. I will hold her back.”

Jin nodded, hesitantly stepping back towards the crest of the slope, shaking eyes never leaving the demon in case she tried to come for him again. To which the creature grinned, sickening and vile in its stretch, and moved faster than his own eyes could see to follow him.

The woman leapt after her, arms thrown around her waist in a futile effort to stop the creature that was stronger than she. “Run, Seokjin! Take these!” The beads were launched into the air, making a divot in the snow where they landed.

He scooped them up in his hands, gripping them tightly. “What about you…You…”

“I’ll be fine! Go!”

Thrashing in her arms, the demon shrieked with laughter. “There is nothing fine about you, dear Adelaide. You should never have shown your face here–punishment awaits you. And you, Kim. You will pay for betraying us!”

Jin looked at the younger woman once more in surprise, her face suddenly brining forth memories of old blurry photos and tales told around the dinner table. “Adelaide?”

“Say it louder for all the forest to hear–yes!” Her brows furrowed, her hold on the demon weakening. “Now go! Her energy will weaken, do not worry about me.”

He didn’t wait to hear more, turning on his heel and moving as fast as his battered body would let him, almost thankful for the bitter cold and how it felt against his shoulder. He could only hear the sound of his breath burning his lungs and stinging his throat, stumbling down the slippery trail all the way back to the estate. His feet didn’t stop moving until they were outside Mariah’s office door, not knowing who else to go to–not knowing who would even believe him if he tried to tell anyone what he had seen. He didn’t know if he believed it was real himself, even his wound screaming at him that it was very real.

“What can I–” Mariah gasped, hands coming up to shield her mouth as her face turned dull from shock.

Jin grimaced, hand cupping his shoulder to apply pressure to it. “It was me. I was the one we were supposed to watch out for today.”

Mariah ushered him in, running into their bathroom to locate wet rags. And upon calling for someone to take them to the hospital, she waited with him–wiping at his mouth with a cloth that kept coming back red. “What happened to you?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” Jin squeezed the rosary in his fist, the beads making dents in the skin of his palm. Maybe this is what his father had been trying to warn him off–maybe his father knew about the demon at the lake.

She eyed the motion, then flickered her attention back to his face. “The parameters for what I can believe is possible have changed. Why don’t you tell me and we'll go from there?”

Jin never spoke to, or of God again after that day. Each time his mind wandered, he thought of the demon’s teeth in his shoulder, or her hand raised to his cheek, and his mind was flooded with the taste of iron and bile. He struggled to sleep from the nightmares of her many eyes and her horrid voice. The only good thing (depending on who you ask) to come of it was that he found someone new to pray to while faking his evening prayers, or when he was at church on Sundays.

Adelaide.

He would bow his head, muttering thanks to her, telling her of his day and the ongoings at the estate and hotel–and sometimes, he would catch glimpses of her face in the back of the chapel, shimmering to nothing as quick as she had appeared. But nothing more. Even when he begged for it.

It did, however, spur him in the direction of taking up Mariah’s side, weeding his way into her activities so he could do something. Especially when more of his friends started showing their faces again and trying to get involved.

_________________________________________

“When Yoongi came back, I was officially involved.” Jin cleared his throat, folding his napkin for the tenth time, the same exact way as before. “I was in charge of keeping tabs on him–making sure he didn’t get himself killed or anyone else. Then, when things became more complicated, I had to keep you separated so things didn’t get messier.”

“How?” Namjoon prodded. “How did you stop spirits from hurting him? Or any of us for that matter if what Mariah said is true.”

“Right,” Jin finally let the napkin rest, smoothing his hands down his jeans. “My…gift, without whoever this ‘god’-” he brought his fingers up in quotations “-is a matter of interpreting my feelings, less so clear answers. Sometimes I can be wrong, but that’s circumstantial and rare. I can get the general gist of something, but not super detailed answers. When I would be around any of you, or whenever I would really focus on you–I’d get feelings. And then Mariah would hold up photos of different family members for me to get a feel for. Then she’d leave these….gifts for them. Try to sway them away from whatever they were planning.”

Yoongi made a face that pinched downwards in thought. “What kind of gifts? Like offerings?”

“If that’s what you want to call it, sure. When we had Hoseok we would use whatever information he could pull from that individual to find things they liked. Things they hated. Then she’d take that and try and speak to them.” Jin shrugged.

“What about all of the times they succeeded? Hadwin in my room, Candida, the ghost that burned Jimin–hell, the day I saw you at the cabin and we all almost died. What happened then?” Y/n listed off, lip curled in mild distaste.

“Like I said, I’m almost always right. Sometimes, one of you or one of them would make a split decision during a gap of time where I hadn’t checked in. Think of it like this-” he plucked his fork and his spoon up, and shook them “-pretend these are game pieces. If they are following the rules and moving in one direction around the board, without any intention of changing direction, I can gather that information from the choice they made to keep moving forward. However, let's say the person playing the fork picks up a card that lets them make an unprecedented move, if I don’t run through enough options in my head of what that card could say and ask the right questions to myself–they could make an unknown move before I get any sort of feeling of what it could be. They could fly halfway across the board or move backwards and it would take me by surprise. If I’ve played the game a lot–which I have–I have a better chance of asking the right questions. That’s why most of the time, I’m right. I just can't ask about something I don't even know exists.”

An apologetic smile pushed up his cheeks as he gave Y/n a pointed look. “And let’s just say–you are rather unpredictable sometimes. You made a lot of different pieces pick up wild cards that I had a hard time keeping track of.”

There was a lull of silence as they soaked in his explanation, but as always Yoongi didn’t let it last very long.

“So what exactly are you two up to now, then? We’ve been gone for a hot minute.” Yoongi narrowed his eyes on him.

“Cleaning up. Cooling off. We have to push it in waves. If we push too hard too fast, I could get punished,” Jin explained, tugging down the collar of his long sleeve to display shiny white scars on his shoulder where the ghost had sunk her teeth into him, before hastily covering it back up again. “Mariah and I take turns caring for Anselm. With Y/n being back, he’s gotten worse by the day. It’s been hard to make any kind of progress when we spend nearly every day trying to keep up with whatever you’re doing.”

“I want to see him,” Y/n choked out, visions of what her dad could look like at this very moment sucking the breath out of her.

“Absolutely not.” Namjoon and Jimin chastised at the same time, followed by a much more vulgar exploitive from Yoongi.

Y/n ignored them, pushing onwards. “I want to see him. I want to see what could make him do something so out of character.”

“I think you already know….” Jin pressed his lips into a thin line. “Do you remember what happened that night? When you were…”

“Possessed as fuck? I do now.” Y/n finished for him. “And I saw him that night–the way he looked. He was possessed too, wasn’t he?”

“He is.” Jin corrected. “But by whom, we aren’t sure. We have some theories as to who it could be, though.”

“You mean your brain-thingy doesn’t just tell you right away?” Hoseok snorted, spinning his fork in his hand idly.

“Nope. That’d be too easy.” Jin sighed. “When it comes to this particular issue–the issue of that night I mean–it’s like my gift disappears. Like I’m blocked from seeing anything to do with whoever is behind this. All we know is that it has something to do with the family, and it’s angry.”

Jimin laced his fingers through Y/n’s under the table, sliding both of them onto his thigh to hold close. “What theories do you have?”

Jin’s lip quirked up on one end, fixating on Jimin. “Actually, I was really hoping you could help with that. Put our heads together and join teams.”

“All of us?” Jungkook demanded more so than asked, the uptilt of his voice at the end a forced courtesy.

Jin nodded. “All of you. It’s not like any of you would stop if we asked anyways. As you’ve proven time and time again.”

“What can I help with in particular?” Jimin hesitantly refocused the group back to what Jin had said.

“If it comes from the family, we need someone who knows the family at the forefront. We’ve been doing our best, but for obvious reasons, we can’t let Anselm get involved–and he has the most information.” Jin reached into his back pocket, slipping out pieces of folded paper. “This is the lead we are trying to work on now. If this is a bust, we are shifting focus. Perhaps you can help us find our next target. There’s two of them–one written to her sister, one written to Adelaide.”

He passed the square over to Jimin, who gingerly peeled the two sheets of yellowed paper apart. Y/n tipped her head over his shoulder to see what was written on it, finding elegant lettering and inksplattered words. Jimin began to read out loud for the table to hear as her eyes followed along:

“March 12th 1929,

Dear Candida,

I am writing here to send you my deepest condolences to both Alain and yourself for your loss.

Emilio and I will be leaving tomorrow on the first train headed north, however it pains me to say that we will not arrive in time to attend the funeral. We are set to arrive by the twentieth of the month, and as so this letter will have to hold over our absence until then. I will be writing to Adelaide and our father to let them know when to expect our arrival as well, so don’t worry yourself about any of that.

I will stay as long as you may need me to.

With love and a heavy heart,

Lisolette Medina”

Jimin coughed, then began the second:

“March 12th, 1929,

To Adelaide,

We are set to arrive at the train station on the morning of the twentieth. Despite your previous reassurance, I have still chosen to leave our daughter at the ranch under the care of Emilio’s family. While I trust that you would do everything in your power to secure her safety, I am sure that you could understand my hesitation in bringing her to the Estate in light of the most recent events.

It took a whole lot of convincing for Emilio to even let me return.

I look forward to hearing from you in regards to Candida’s most recent doctor’s visit. She has refrained from mentioning anything of it to me, and I know now is not the time to pry into a broken hearted woman's privacy. Though her most recent letter worries me.

Forgive me for being brazen, but I think it would do her some good to take some time away from the house. Perhaps you can help me convince her and our mother that some time spent down in Texas with me will do her some good. I know my head always feels lighter the longer I am away from the Estate.

Sincerely,

Lisolette Medina

P.S. Try and keep my mother together, won't you? For Candida’s sake. Her head is screwed around enough as it is, and she doesn’t need her adding stock to the pot–though I’m sure you know that already.

P.P.S. Keep mother away from house until our bags are stowed away to our room. I am bringing my gun as we discussed, and I know that might send her to the heavens if she saw it.”

“How do you want us to help you?” Namjoon poised the question smoothly. “I think it’s only fair we have some level of distrust–coming to us after all this time of keeping us out. When the last time we were there was a disaster. You keep withholding information and then giving it to us as you see fit. We need to trust each other to work together.”

“You can help however you’d like. We won’t dictate how you do it anymore. We just think…”Jin trailed off, shaking his head resolutely. “No, I think we will have better chances working together. We need more manpower, and with everything out in the open, I think as a group we have an advantage. This is getting too big for us to handle alone, especially with Y/n being close by.”

Heads turned to Y/n expectantly, and she shrank under their intense gaze. She met Yoongi’s and gestured to him with her chin. “Don’t look at me, ask him. He’s the one who should get to make the call–he’s the one who brought us all together, not me.”

Yoongi looked partially taken aback, covering it up with a twitch of his nose. His pointer finger rubbed pensively over his lower lip, dark eyes boring into the letter and Jin interchangebly, thinking.

“We’ll do it. Anything to do with Candida is a solid lead in my book.” Yoongi declared, and Y/n felt a wave of relief wash over her. “But with a few conditions.” He looked around the room with an authoritative air she didn’t see him wear very often. “First, we need complete honesty moving forward. We deserve to know everything you know, and then anything you find out moving forward. All of that crap you stole from society, return it to Jimin. Second, we need solid communication at all times. None of this, disappear for weeks at a time shit, and then show up randomly at secret locations. If you feel that something is going to happen, tell us so we can also prepare. Third…” He slid his eyes over to Y/n, then back to Jin. “I want it in writing that Y/n will return to the roll of heiress after this is all over, or no deal.”

Jin sucked in a breath, soft lips puffing out as he blew it out between them.

“I think we can figure that out.”

Y/n’s heart almost stopped, her lash line growing heavy and itchy with tears. Her hand curled into a fist on the table as something sparked within her. She picked up her glass of wine and held it over the table with shaky hands. “Then in that case, here’s to solving this shit together for our future–hopefully we don’t die trying to get it back. And if not for us, for Matilda.” Glasses raised to clink against hers, echoing her sentiment, and she tipped it back to down the entire glass in one sip. She was going to need it. “Speaking of which-” she whipped her mouth with her sleeve and sat back in her seat, “-she’s been waiting for you, and she’s making it everyone’s problem.”

Jin grew timid. “I imagine so. I haven’t been able to spend as much time with her with everything going on.”

“Well, she’ll be back don’t worry,” Taehyung chuckled nervously, still not used to talking so flippantly about ghosts and spirits. “She’s loud. Won’t miss her.”

“It’s almost like they’re related,” Yoongi snorted, taking another long sip from his glass that he tipped towards Y/n. Hoseok cackled from the other end of the table, and Jimin stifled his laugh with his drink.

“Hey!” Y/n threw her napkin at him. “We just aren’t afraid to say what we want!”

The lighthearted banter dispersed the atmosphere enough to break a lot of the tension Jin’s presence had built. The rest of dinner flowed past easily, albeit a bit choppy at times. He was always willing to answer any questions they threw at him as honestly as he could, even while he helped them clean up, taking a spot in the assembly line for dishes. Strangely, even through the awkwardness, Y/n felt complete. They may be lost, but they were now lost together. Her mother would be a different story, but right now she just let herself relish in the company of all of her old friends in one place, and the domesticity of loving jabs and sarcastic quips.

“What are the odds that almost all of us would have some kind of psychic power. Should we play the lottery or something?” Yoongi leaned against the island counter, “supervising” those doing the dishes while taste-testing the cookies Taehyung had made for dessert.

Namjoon pouted. “Speak for yourself.”

“Aww Joon, I don’t have any special powers either.” Y/n bumped his hip with hers. “We can be normal and boring together.”

His dimples made a soft appearance, cheeks tinged pink. “S-sounds like a plan. Though I wouldn’t consider you boring by any means.”

“Ew. Mom and Dad are flirting again!” Hoseok whined playfully, sidling up next to Yoongi and swiping a cookie from the plate.

“We are not!” Y/n glowed with embarrasment as the teasing set in.

“How sweet~” Jimin cooed, handing her a plate to dry.

Namjoon cleared his throat, changing the subject to save them from the onslaught. “Hey Jin, what do you say about joining us for a game tonight? We’ve been locked in a Mario Kart war, would hate to see Jungkook overthrown.”

“I’d like that,” Jin beamed sweetly. He took the plate Y/n dried and tipped it into the cabinet, hand ready for the next. Jungkook quickly slipped into the living room to set up the TV, a sign he was excited without saying a word.

“I’m catching up!” Taehyung defended, following after Jungkook. “Don’t disrespect me like that!”

“Well you haven’t seen Jin play yet!” Y/n laughed. “You can kiss your second place goodbye, loser.”

“You’re just jealous, Miss fifth place!” Taehyung disappeared into the living room before Y/n could defend herself, and she scowled at the spot he used to occupy.

She shoved her hands into the soapy water in an effort to help Jimin speed up the process. The prospect of defending her name riling her up. “Oh I’m gonna get him tonight.”

“And by get him, you mean throw a blue shell from last place and hope it hits him.” Yoongi slid from the island with a smug smile, dusting the crumbs off his fingers.

Hoseok laughed at Y/n’s expense, rising to trail after him and claim his favorites seat on the couch. It was when he stood that his laughter died in his throat, eyes narrowing into slits as he turned slowly to face the back of Jin’s head.

“Wait a minute…” Realization dawned on him, his mouth falling open. “Does this mean that all of this time you’ve been ridiculously good at games because you have some psychic power?!”

The house went quiet, and the tips of Jin’s ears flushed a shade of pink.

“...That is one question I’m afraid I don’t have the answer to. Sorry.” Jin tried to walk passed the group of dish washers, but Y/n stopped him by stepping in front of him.

“Woah woah woah–So lucky Team Seokjin, huh?”

Jin knocked at his head cartoonishly. “Oh–sorry, looks like god’s not in today. We aren’t taking any questions, but be sure to leave a message and get back to me at the beep!”

Yoongi glared around the entrance way to the livingroom, pointing a finger at the group of them. “I told you something fishy was going on with you fuckers!”

“I can’t believe this…all the games of battleship we played…” Hoseok sat down at the table looking genuinely devastated by this earth-shattering revelation.

“I didn’t cheat on all of them! Some kinds of games I can’t use it on!”

“So you let me win?!”

“Not all the time! Sometimes you actually won!”

Hoseok pouted. “Don’t make it sound so surprising!”

“Ah, they are back to normal it seems.” Jimin rolled his eyes playfully, propping the plate of cookies on his forearm and holding his elbow out to Y/n. “To the living room to defend your honor?”

She took it, finding a feeling of home in the cloud of bickering that followed them to the living room. “To defending our honor!”

_________________________________________

Stars glinted down from above, breaking up the pitchblack skies that otherwise would have consumed the sea in it’s entirety. Delicate melodies barely made it out above the sound of the waves from the distance Y/n was at, but it was shrinking with each step she carved out through the sand.

Jin’s back was facing her, his shape highlighted by the moonlight from above. The closer she got, the clearer the plucking became, a soft rendition of a Nocturne that met her ears like a lullaby.

“Fancy meeting you here. Can’t sleep?”

The guitar strings stopped with a sharp twang, and he flinched back to look at her. “Yeah…I’ve never done well away from home.”

“Me neither.” Y/n gestured to the sand next to him. “Can I join you?”

Jin nodded, scooching on his towel to make room for her to sit on it with him. He didn’t start to play again, his fingers picking at the sides of his guitar restlessly.

“I’m not…” Y/n started, struggling to find what she wanted to say. “I’m not angry with you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Jin tilted his head downward to look at the strings of his instrument, avoiding her stare. “What are you then?”

“Sorry.”

His head whipped up to look at her, bewildered. “‘Sorry’? After what I told you?”

“You didn’t tell me anything worth getting angry over.”

“But I didn’t–your sister–I could have-”

Y/n cut him of with a shake of her head. “That wasn’t on you. You did what you could.”

Jin didn’t seem to believe her, mouth suspended open around protests he couldn’t form while he looked out towards the ocean, eyes distant.

“It should have been me. Did you know that part?” Y/n offered dryly, pulling at the threads of his towel. “He tried to wake me up first, but I didn’t hear him. Matilda got up and lied thinking he was taking me somewhere fun.” Her hands stilled, echoes of Jimin’s voice telling her to breathe and not fidgit guiding her them into her lap. “Ever since she showed me that I…Well I already held a lot of guilt about not waking up sooner, and not doing my job as an older sister to look out for her. But that just…It fucks with my head. I blamed myself at first.” She looked up to him to find him already looking at her, expression unreadable. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, it’s not your fault. It’s not my fault. It’s whatever son of a bitch is behind this, turning us all against eachother so we are too busy fighting eachother and not them.”

Jin’s face contorted, like he was fighting to keep it under control–to keep it from showing exactly what he was feeling.

“You take care of her, right? That’s why she’s been looking for you?”

His lip quivered, and she knew she hit the nail on the head.

“Thank you for doing that. For doing what I couldn’t do–I spent too much time running away to stop and think of her as much as I should have.”

He didn’t say anything, she couldn’t even hear him breathe. Assuming he was uncomfortable, she started to rise from her seat, hastily offering muttered apologies as she left. “I’m sorry, you probably wanted to be alone-”

“I play for her.” Jin exhaled a shuddering breath. “At the guest house, near the lake. I play music for her so she doesn’t feel so alone.” Y/n slowly lowered herself back into her seat, her throat starting to burn. “And then at night I have this bear that–well, back when she first died I would hear her aroudn the halls sometimes, playing with the other spirits, and one night she spoke to me through my door, telling me how scared and lonely she was. How she felt like everyone was leaving her behind. I was too scared to invite her in my room, she just felt so different and not in a good way. So I grabbed one of my old bears and told her I’d pretend it’s her, and I tucked her in one of my baby blankets every night. Now whenever I forget or can’t get around to it, she gets upset.”

Y/n was crying before she knew it, the salt air stinging her nostrils. “I’m sure she’s grateful…”

“I guess so.” Jin’s voice cracked, and he swallowed it down. “I can’t shake the feeling that I owe her. I was the oldest, this prophet blessed by god to help–but I couldn’t help her.”

“You tried, and I’m sure she knows that.” Y/n whispered to him.

Jin’s smile was tight. “I hope so.”

Y/n sniffled, wiping at her eyes. Letting a moment of tranquil quiet pass over them to give Jin the space he seemed to want. “So, what’s her favorite?” When Jin just tiled his head at her, she pointed to the guitar. “Does she like anything specific?”

“Well I can’t exactly play the SpiceGirls so her favorites are off the table.” Jin laughed softly, and Y/n found herself joining in. “But uh…she hasn’t told me what she likes. To be honest she hasn’t told me anything in a while. For all I know she could hate when I play and I’m just pissing her off.”

“Woah–what language from you!” Y/n teased, causing him to blush again. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

He rolled his eyes to the sky and shrugged. “I don’t care if you do.”

Y/n nudged him with her shoulder. “I don’t think she hates it, if she did she wouldn’t have been begging for you.”

“That’s true…” Jin trailed off, fingers hovering over the strings, sounding far off in his head. He idly plucked the same Nocturne as before, this time slower and almost uncertain in its rhythm. She listened, counting the flickering stars and imagining that her sister was there alongside them, sitting in the sand and looking at the same sky.

The music abruptly came to a stop. “I’m sorry, did you say that your dad thought she was you?”

“Yeah…Why?” Y/n opened the eyes she didn’t even know she had closed to peer curiously at him. “Didn’t you know?”

“No–I just knew it was him. I never got to see anything, I got Hoseok out of there before she made him touch her bed.” Jin shook his head, his brows furrowing. “I’m having trouble wrapping my head around him mistaking his own daughters. Maybe if he was a father otherwise not involved–but not your dad. Your dad was so invested in you guys…”

“I just assumed it was because it was dark, or becasue he was possessed.” Y/n answered. “But now that you mention it, he would’ve been able to tell our voices apart instantly. And we slept in different beds that he helped build…”

Jin nibbled on his lower lip, his fingers tapping on the strings. “Y/n…Do you think ghosts can pretend to be someone else?”

Y/n gasped, looking to him with bulging eyes. “I do. In fact I know they can. Do you think…?”

“I don’t know. But somehow your dad was able to be two places at once that night, and so was Matilda.”

“Matilda?”

“Yeah,” Jin gulped. “That night when I heard her voice around when it would have happened–we saw her in her bed later. But I don’t think it was her.”

Chapter Text

“What’s our ETA?” Taehyung curled his hand around the headrest of Y/n’s seat, head poking out over the console to look between her and Jungkook.  

Jungkook’s hand clenched the wheel a little tighter. “Same as before.”  

 Y/n snickered to herself, content with watching the greenery grow thicker. It was starting to feel like home–in a stomach twisting kind of way.  

“Don’t get irritated with me! Mr. Grumpy pants is asking again.” Taehyung slunk out from view, tucking himself into his seat with a huff.  

Y/n held her hand up and made a ‘gimmie’ motion, satisfied when the plastic of the walkie slapped against her palm. She held it up to her mouth with the buttons squeezed, speaking into it with just a dash of authority. “Mr. Grumpy-Pants, are you there? Over.”  

Static shot out from the speaker. “I told you all to stop calling me that.”  

“And yet you keep answering to it. Funny how that works, over.” Y/n and Taehyung shared a look through the rearview mirror.  

The end of Yoongi’s curses could be heard through the start of static, choosing to ignore her comment entirely. “Well, Menace Caravan, what is it that you all want from me?”  

“Stop bothering us, Taehyung said you keep bugging him for the time.” Y/n answered.  

“Apologies for trying to stay up to date. You three are terrible at giving regular updates.”  

A new voice joined in through the speaker. “And you’re terrible with your radio manners. Over.”  

“Oh sorry, didn’t realize the grammar police was also the radio police.” Came Yoongi’s reply, dripping with sarcasm. “How about this–Mr. Grumpy pants to the Nerd Brigade and Menace Caravan, I hope you all remember I’m the equivalent of your boss today. So be nice to me. Over.”  

“I am being nice to you!” Y/n cried defiantly into the speaker.  

“Hmmm. I’ll be the judge of that. How come no one yells at you for not saying it?” There was a small pause. “Now what’s your ETA? Over." 

“Because she’s trying her best. And I’m not even trying to be nice to you,” Jimin’s voice fluttered over Y/n’s. “Consider it payback for what you did to me this morning, over”  

“For the last time–I didn’t know you were saving that bagel for the road. Over.”  

“And I didn’t know you were in charge. Nerd Brigade, ETA 4pm, Over and Out.”  

Y/n took this as her opportunity to answer Yoongi’s request before he could make another snarky remark. “We are set to get to the property by 3:53pm. Same as last time.”  

“Huh. Funny.” Yoongi replied haughtily.  

Y/n pursed her lips. “What?” 

“If I remember correctly, last time he stated your arrival time was 3:58pm. Looks like it’s a good thing I asked. Over.”  

“You’re so annoying.” Y/n chewed on her tongue to keep from using too much of an attitude; it’d only egg him on if she did. “Keep your nose to yourself unless it’s important, boss man. Menace Caravan, over and out.” She chucked the machine into the backseat and slipped Jungkook a sly grin. “Petal to the metal. I wanna bother him just a little more.” Jungkook’s lip twitched up just a smidge, and the dial on the speedometer climbed a few notches above the speed limit.  

Green leaves with their tips dipped in yellow blew past, her thoughts getting lost in the never-ending white lines and bright green exit signs. Jungkook’s hand interlaced with hers on the leather console kept her grounded enough to feel the car slowing, and the winding two-lane roads grow in length and dwindle in width. Their curves burned deep into her memory.  

They were home.  

Kind of.  

Jungkook let the car sit idle in the historical society parking lot, the rumble a constant reminder that they were here again, that it wasn’t some dream she would wake up from at any moment. It was strange, the intertwining of fear and tenacity battling it out in steady heart beats and shaking hands.  

Bravery is not the absence of fear, she reminds herself, looking off towards the bend before the gates, where so many feelings waited for her to address. She imagined her sister standing at them. Envisioned her eyes full of terror and her hands desperate and wet. Bravery was the urge to run up to the property on foot with nothing but her bare hands and sheer willpower to shove everyone out of her way that tried to stop her, despite feeling like her chest might cave in when she saw all of her friends walk through the front doors again.  

“We parked in the lot, waiting on you to engage.” Jungkook’s steady tone updated the rest of the group, walkie close to his mouth, staring purposefully at the door. “We already have company.”  

Y/n whipped her head to the front entrance, her vining spiritual sensors she had been working over the past few weeks to reconnect with stretching out to it, a weak pulse emanating back to her. “Who?”  

“Stay in your vehicle. Hoseok and I will be there in eight minutes.” Yoongi answered, his playfulness gone.  

Jungkook blinked at her, lifting one finger to point to one of the tall windows. “The fire lady. In the window.”  

“Great,” Y/n replied sarcastically. “Just the ‘warm’ welcome I wanted.”  

“Jesus Christ...” Taehyung slumped in his seat, then resolved himself with a shrug. “Well, at least we can all talk to each other this time. Having him awake is already an improvement.”  

“Tell me about it,” Y/n snickered just as the walkie lit up, anticipation making her jittery.  

“Jimin and I are pulling up the hill, over.” Namjoon’s voice buzzed through the speaker.  

The speaker chittered again. “Fucking hell. Did all of you speed just to prove a point? Wait until we get there. No funny business, I mean it.”  

Jimin’s jeep slid into the empty spot next to them and cut the engine; the passenger window left half open to communicate through. Namjoon leant his head out the window, squinting at the low hanging sun. “How are you all holding up?”  

“Fine.” Y/n answered quickly. “Impatient, that’s all.”  

Namjoon gave her a knowing look. “I get it, just stay in the car until the rest of us get here-”  

His words fell on deaf ears. The invisible vines of her morning glories twanged as though someone had plucked it like the string of a harp, and it almost ached–like hitting your funny bone on solid wood. She felt the touch. Heard the laughter that followed, childlike and twittery. On instinct, she grabbed for Jungkook’s hand again and squeezed, her senses retracting inwards to twine around him for comfort.  

His eyes tracked up his forearms like he could see her spiritual outreach crawling up his skin, immediately taking note of her shift in demeanor. A flicker of her sister could be seen standing outside the car upon their connection, black holes for eyes and a grin too impish to be her own. She’d seen enough.  

Maybe she lied to Namjoon about being fine. Maybe she’d lied to herself too. Because one glimpse of her sister standing on the property, infected with MADness and inhumane set her off. Not with fear but an all-consuming rage. For even with tar for eyes and rotted flesh flecked with black ichor – that was her sister.  And right now, she was alone with on the pavement, vulnerable to the demonic woman stalking them from behind the glass.  

Her feet hit the gravel harder than she intended, and she ignored Namjoon’s poor exclamations of distress and the sound of Jungkook’s door slamming shut after her.  

“Do you want to play a game, Gänse?” Y/n addressed the space where her sister had been, the air charged with energy. “We are all going to play.”  

“She’s interested.” Jimin appeared around the back of the car, winded from his haste, pulling open Taehyung’s car door while he passed it. “I guess we are getting out.”  

“It’s like a game of tag meets capture the flag. Against them-” She gestured to the historical building, “-except you’re on our team.”  

“Oh–wonderful! Asking the demonic sister to join us. Why not?” Taehyung got to his feet, twisting back to grab the duffle bag of supplies assigned for their vehicle.  

Namjoon came veering around the car like a disapproving parent, their bag strapped over his shoulder bouncing with each step. “Are you serious right now? She could decide to rip our throats out or jump for Bear at any second.”  

“Very.” Y/n shrugged them off, trying her best to follow the floating ball of energy that was her sister. “Ignore them, they’re being meanies. What do you say? You wanna be on our team?”  

Jungkook’s hand slipped in hers, and just like they’d been practicing the past few weeks, she wrapped her energy around him, opening herself up to him and his energy that flowed through the open dam readily. Her sister came back into view (albeit just a faint outline as they were still honing this kind of exchange, but she was visible nonetheless).  

Matilda seemed confused, glowering up to her through furrowed brows with heated indecision.  

“I want you to be on our team. You belong on our team.” Y/n affirmed, taking a step closer.  

Instead of stopping her, Jungkook followed her lead, always staying in line. “Me too.”  

Matilda looked to Jimin, black eyes glaring through him and mouth moving in silent question.  

Jimin looked to the side, out of focus, listening. “I...I supposed I agree. Namjoon–she wants you to answer.”  

Namjoon pursed his lips, scanning each of their faces and stopping on Y/n’s. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”  

“Honestly? No. But I’m sure it feels right.” She matched his intensity with honesty.  

Namjoon sighed, shrugging off his duffle bag and propping it on the back of Jungkook’s car and sinking his arm elbow deep in his search. “Fine. But I want to try something first.” His hand reappeared clasped around two small pouches, his other hand reaching in to snatch another. He held them up in front of them all, following their line of sight to Matilda’s general vicinity and crouching down.  

“Matilda, I know at first contact these might feel or smell funny, but do you like one of these more than the other? Maybe the smell, or the color. This-” He shook each pouch individually, “-is rose petals, rosemary, and basil buds. Whichever one you like, I’ll give you.”  

There was a pause before Jimin spoke up. “She said she prefers the rose petals.”  

“Okay then,” Namjoon grunted as he came to a stand. “Rose petals it is.” He took a healthy pinch from the pouch and turned back to the duffle bag to fish out a smaller, pink, mesh bag to drop them into, pulling it closed and tying it off. “I offer this to you Matilda, a gift so you can match the team. Try and give it a second chance if you don’t like it at first.”  

Y/n held her breath as Matilda’s translucent hand grabbed for it, an identical see through version appearing in her own as she pulled away from the one that still rested in Namjoon’s hand. Matilda turned it over, hesitantly bringing it to her nose and giving it a whiff. At first she snarled, recoiling from it with a hiss. But with one trepid glance to Namjoon, she reluctantly heeded his guidance and gave it a second try.  

Seconds passed. Jungkook’s feet were staggards and on the offense, Jimin’s lips were pressed in a thin line with his arm braced on the car door handle, and Taehyung looked on edge – completely blind to what was transpiring. Each one of them on edge for whatever her response might be.  

She took the pouch away from her nose after three long drags of its scent, slipping her tiny wrist into one of the ribbon loops and wearing it like a bracelet. If Y/n didn’t know any better, she could’ve sworn the lines of rot that webbed down her cheeks thinned to wisps, and her skin looked less papery.  

“She likes it.” Jungkook narrated for Namjoon just as Yoongi’s car came swerving into the lot, not even bothering to line itself into an actual parking spot.  

His door slammed, and with his own backpack draped over one shoulder he stalked over with an accusatory finger aimed at all of them. “What did I say? No funny business. Stay in the car. And look at you all – standing around like a bunch of middle-schoolers on a field trip.” He stopped abruptly; gaze pulled to where Matilda was. “What the fuck is this?”  

“She’s on our team. She wants to play.” Y/n moved to the open bag, grabbing her assigned flashlight. “Be nice to her.” Inside the bag was a rolled-up piece of black cloth tied with twine, which she undid with careful hands. A blade–her blade–fell heavy into her palm. The handle felt rough against her skin from the metal chains of the snapped necklace used to adorn it. She gave it a squeeze. It stung to hold it again. But it was the sting she needed for what was to come. The pain is a source of fuel to burn. She looked to her friends over her shoulder.  

“C’mon. Jin and my mother will be here soon. Suit up so we can get started.” Y/n then looked to where her sister had been. “I’ll explain the rules to the ‘game’...” 

The eight of them circled Jungkook’s car while she did just that; bags ripped open like empty pelts, colored pouches housing Namjoon’s protection charms tied to their wrists like Matilda had done, and pockets stuffed to the brim with their assigned tools. The mission was simple: take back the entire historical society and designate it as their ‘headquarters’. It was time they take back all of what was theirs – not just a handful of rooms they’d have to scurry to and from. 

 Jimin would be at the front, guiding their group forward with precision as he knew the ins and outs of this building like the back of his hand and had all the keys (literally) dangling from his fingertips.  His ears used to communicate effectively between their defensive teams and offensive teams. Taehyung was on the offensive line, in charge of spiritually cleansing space as they went with the logs of garden sage and rosemary lining his jean pockets and lighter clenched between his teeth.  

The rest of their offensive line would work from the Paralrealm, consisting of Y/n with her knife, Bear with his handgun, and Jungkook with all the nifty perks that came with being a psychopomp. Once each room was clear, Namjoon and Yoongi would come in as two thirds of their defensive team and lock it down with enough wards to threaten any unwanted spirit within a twenty-mile radius. 

Step one would be getting through the door and dropping Hoseok off at Jimin’s office, taking defense over their home base and Jungkook and Y/n’s bodies. Which meant getting past the fiery woman and whoever else waited for them on the other side of the door.  

“Remember, stay on alert, and stick together.” Yoongi reminded the group for the tenth time, his bag secured on both shoulders. “Ready?” 

“More than ever.” Y/n rolled some of the tension from her shoulders and settled herself with a deep breath. “Gänse, stick close to us. I’ll see you soon, okay? We are trusting you.”  

“Let’s hope that doesn’t bite us in the ass,” Hoseok muttered to himself, scooping up the remaining bags and hoisting them over his shoulder.  

Jimin wore his distaste for Hoseok’s complaints openly. “Don’t be so pessimistic. That’s not the energy this group needs.” He clenched the key to the front in his fist, setting his sights on the entrance. “On three?”  

“On three.” Yoongi parroted. “One.”  

Y/n turned the knife over in her fist as time began to slow.  

“Two.”  

She could feel the temperature of her friends' bodies rising, and Bear’s energy crackled like lightning near them.  

“Three.” 

_________________________________________ 

Taehyung struck the first bundle, wafts of herbal smoke curling around them and stretching outwards towards the building. Jungkook moved next, the smoke clinging to him like a protective shroud to stand aside the door while Jimin jammed the key in, twisting until it gave way.  

There was no hesitation as the door swung open, Taehyung waving a fresh puff of smoke in the entrance that sent the energy into a crazed frenzy that nipped at their skin like ice and sank it’s teeth in their nerves, sending them on high alert.  

The battle had begun.  

“She’s still on the second floor.” Jungkook informed birskly.  

“Then let’s seize the opportunity and run!” Jimin gave them little time to react, taking off at full speed through the entrance room and into the main circular exhibit. All of them followed, streaking across the polished floors in a blur.  

“They’re coming from the east hall!” Jungkook shouted above the loud storm of rubber soles, making a point to lag towards the back to cover them.  

Taehyung spun on his heels, frantically wafting the steady stream of smoke towards the hall of uniforms with his hands as he ran, keeping a wall of it between their group and that area. They made it to the grand hall before Jimin’s office without any interruption, but of course their desired location would be predictable.  

Jungkook warned them a second too late.  

Jimin was launched across the floor, sliding across the tile as though it was made of ice, barely managing to gather his bearings enough to come to a rolling halt before his head collided with the wall. Y/n was next, the invisible spirit’s wide hands curling around her upper arms and lifting her straight off the ground.  

She swung her knife frantically, the blade sailing through the air and missing each time. She couldn’t stop the panic coursing through her veins enough to get a grasp on her senses, not a single hit landing on her invisible attacker. Either she needed to gather her intentions, or the spirits had also come back with new tricks up their sleeve.  

And then she was on the ground, air squished from her lungs upon collision and nose centimeters away from a pair of bright orange and green sneakers. Hoseok, who had been closest to her, splayed both hands and shoved her attacker back with enough force to shake her loose. Hoseok looked as surprised as her, eyes wide as he looked at his palms. Neither of them had time to soak in the moment, for she was lugged to her feet by Namjoon and swung in a race to Jimin’s office door with Hoseok not far behind.  

“I got them, keep them away from Bear!” Namjoon bellowed back to Jungkook, who was already trying to blaze a way towards them.  

The hall was a whirlwind of energy and squeaking sneakers. Unseen, but it had a weight of unbearable pressure worse than any mountain road could offer. In the blurry seconds it took to get to where Jimin waved them urgently into his office, her eardrums ached with the need to release some of it. She counted heads as they tumbled in after her, not daring to breathe until Jungkook rounded up the rear, slamming the door closed with his back pressed to it for good measure.  

Yoongi gave him a firm pat on the shoulder, sliding the strap of his bag down his arm to pull out a hand labeled jar of mixed herbs and black salt. “Good job, kid. Keep watch. Looks like they were just as prepared as we were.” He brushed passed Hoseok, slapping the jar into his chest to scramble for. “And you, Mida’s touch huh? Hold onto this for a sec.” Namjoon followed him immediately into action, taking both ends of one of the sofas near the bookcases and moving it up against the table to make way for the massive ring of ground herbs and salt they sprinkled around the rug.  

Y/n’s attention was cut off by a cloud of fresh smoke that she promptly choked on. “Jesus!” She waved some of it away from her face, Taehyung’s dramatic flick of his wrist only coating her in more of it. “What are you doing?”  

He shrugged, continuing his ministrations. “I don’t know. It touched you. Figured it wouldn’t hurt.”  

“Don’t waste my good shit!” Yoongi hissed. “Give the room a good perimeter. Just to clear out anything stagnant since we’ve been gone.”  

Taehyung saluted him with his free hand, gathering some of the ashes building up on his skin with his index finger and dabbing it playfully onto her nose. “I declare you clean.”  

Y/n giggled, swatting his hand away and giving him a light shove into the center of the room. “Get to work, pretty boy.”  

The moment of humor was short lived when she caught sight of Jimin that had been hidden behind him. Slouched into one of his desk chairs with his arm encircling the small of his own waist, wincing.  

“Shit!’ She slid across the floor onto her knees to take him in, grabbing his cheeks and lifting his face up to get a good look at it. His left cheek was a bit red, and it looked like he had bitten into his lip when he had been tossed, but nothing damning that she could see. Her hands shook as they pried his palm from his side to find it clean, without any traces of blood in sight.  

“I’m alright. Just a little sore.” He reassured her softly, twisting the wrist she held hostage to grab for her hand. “Stay focused. We don’t need you getting too distracted, okay?”  

Namjoon stood tall, garnering their attention immediately. “The circle is ready when you are.”  

Y/n looked to Jungkook over her shoulder. “Ready?”  

“Ready.” He nodded down to her stiffly.  

Thank the heavens for Namjoon, really. His tea made the transition so smooth she hadn’t even realized her eyes had drooped closed, and her forehead hit the firm muscle of Jungkook’s shoulder. She’d have to thank him again whenever the situation allowed them.  

Y/n blinked, the faint sheen of cobweb like fog so familiar yet so jarring. She willed herself not to think of the last time she had left her body behind to complete some kind of mission – because now she could see Jungkook’s body safe and wrapped around her own, and her friends moving freely about the room with purpose. She wasn’t alone this time to start, and that made the journey easier. Their voices were still a bit fuzzy, Jimin’s energy still creeping in.  

Over their faint drone, Bear grinned at her from his stance behind the couch. “Welcome back, Entlein. Pleasure seeing you here.”  

“How bad is it?” Y/n asked, acknowledging Jungkook as he came to behind her. Snakes of black smoke smoothing over her skin in a drowsy greeting. 

Bear clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Have you ever seen a family of angry mountain lions?”  

“No.” Y/n eyed him suspiciously. “Have you?”  

His lips curled up in a mischievous grin. “That’s a story for another time.” His expression was wiped clean upon the arrival of the looming figure behind her, tutting a low whistle. “What we would have given to have you on our side back in the day. Your strength is palpable.” 

Jungkook shifted where he stood, a small, nervous smile crinkling the edges of his marbled white eyes. “Thanks.” 

 “Don’t panic about anything they say and try to avoid talking over them. We just need you here and focused.” Yoongi handed Hoseok his walkie, voice finally cutting through with clarity. “Which room feels the worst right now?”  

Hoseok sat criss-cross in front of their bodies, back pressed to the couch and blueprint map overlaid his knees. He pressed his hand flat to the floor, eyes closed as he inhaled deeply. y/n sensed his disturbance. Sensed the pulse of his energy flying through the floorboards in his search. He smacked his finger down on the map, eyes flying open. “The hallway, and the library.”  

“Perfect. Are they ready Jimin?”  

The man in question waited, eyes cast towards the floor. His telltale sign he was listening.  

“We are.” Jungkook answered on her behalf. “Give Y/n her knife.”  

“Her knife–” Jimin pointed to the weapon discarded next her on the floor. His sentence wasn’t even complete before Yoongi kicked it closer to her.  

“Here you go, sweetheart. Do your worst and tear those fuckers to shreds.”  

“Flattering and eloquent as always.” Jimin rolled his eyes, hanging the keys around his neck as he stood.  

Y/n swooped down, picking up the spirit of the blade and the energy Yoongi had sent with it. Adrenaline. Protection. Admiration. And something else that kicked her into high gear, her soul soaring through the air with the unnamed energy of his that lingered on the handle like the feel of fresh summer rain upon hot skin. 

She spun it, catching it easily. “Don’t worry, his feelings speak loud enough.”  

Jimin cooed teasingly, pinching Yoongi’s cheek as he passed by. “How sweet~”  

“Cut it out!” Yoongi smacked it away, flushing with embarrassment. “What? I didn’t say anything. What are you three gossiping about?” To cover his flustered state, he became quite interested in how to walkie was positioned on his jacket.  

“You tell us.” Jimin shrugged, gripping the door handle with one hand.  

They crowded around him, their banter disintegrating with the oncoming fresh wave of anxiety for what waited for them on the other side. And then the door was open, leaving them with nothing but the rooms perimeter to keep them apart.  

It was as though the sun was standing on the other end of the hall, splattering orange light across the reflective floors that stretched out with gnarled hands and blinking eyes towards them. The hallway felt more like an oven, intent on roasting them alive to serve to whomever was making the order. She was just as tall as Y/n remembered; all charcoal black limbs with fire that veined around each limb and climbed her neck, dripping from her mouth in tongues of flame that licked the air.  

On her left was Duane, a head shorter yet equally as enraged. His was still missing from their last interaction, a fact that had Y/n’s lip curling with the taste of victory. To her right was her great aunt Dot, her lolling head and snapping jaws more reminiscent of a zombie than a ghost. Y/n’s victorious smile fell, for a figure cloaked in shadow left them outnumbered in terms of Paralrealm offense.  

“There’s four of them, three of us.” Bear relayed through the walkie, a heavy sigh falling from his lips. He cocked the lever of the hand gun, nozzle pointed to the floor. “My brother. My niece. A woman on fire. And...” He scrutinized the dark figure, from the top of his head, down his lanky torso, and to the legs that stood uneven and bowlegged. “My father. Leon.”  

“Leon Wörner,” Jungkook repeated the name, his voice vibrating through Y/n’s bones and shaking her soul with its command. “Show yourself to me.”  

The black shadow trembled, dripping down the contours of a crooked, lifeless grin and boney shoulders that looked too flat. His cloak of obscurity fell further, and Y/n winced. His shoulders looked too flat because they didn’t connect to a chest–but the backs of his shoulder blades, for his head had been twisted entirely around.  

“Three against four.” Y/n remarked, swallowing down the acid taste on her tongue at the sight. “We’ve had worse.”  

“We are still here,” Yoongi reasoned, though the nervous lick of his lips gave him away. “Mostly blind but we aren’t going to just sit here and look pretty.”  

“Watch out for her.” Jungkook nudged Y/n, gesturing to the wall beside the door.  

Matilda sat hunched on all fours, a low growl emitting through barred teeth. She looked ready to pounce–and she was close. Just waiting outside the door for their first step. Their eyes met, and it felt as though time had stopped, and the standstill felt like a dream.  

“Please,” she begged, broken and quiet. “You’re supposed to be on our team, remember?”  

Matilda’s growls grew louder, threatening her next move. Y/n took half a step across the threshold, hand out to rest on her shoulder. Then she pounced.  

Her teeth sank into Duane’s exposed jugular, ripping the thin straps of muscle clean off and tossing them to the floor where they melted into a puddle of black ooze.  

All hell broke loose.  

Smoke filled the hall, thick enough to permeate into the land of the living. Snarls and hisses battled for attention over the sound of Bear’s merciless gunfire clanging against molten rock. Matilda was thrown off, launched back across the hall towards them, her claws leaving streaks along the marble floors all the way until she stopped at Y/n’s feet, black blood dripping from her chin. Jungkook had darted forwards to block Leon’s swing, landing a punch to his cheek that sent his head spinning.  

Taehyung launched a small fabric pouch into the air, the ends burning inwards until it exploded over their heads in a cloud of purple and gold tinted smoke that clashed with the gray, eating it up and devouring it until their side rained with color, blocking her view of Jungkook and Bear. The spirits choked on it, slowing their motions and their attacks like poison. He disappeared into the smoke with Yoongi and Namjoon close behind, their hands full.  

“God will not spare you. He will wipe you and your memory from this place. Is that what you wish?” Duane crept through the smoke, twisting down to tower over Matilda.  

“I don’t want to be on his team anymore.” Matilda looked up to him, the black of her eyes running like water down her cheeks, voice trapped between normal and hoarse. “He lied!”  

Duane bellowed like a train whistle, for Matilda’s long claws cleaved though his face and left divots in the cheekbones, nicking his eyes that burst upon contact, dribbling down his cheeks and spraying Y/n with hot tar that sizzled on contact. He lashed his boney hands out to grab her, and Matilda just managed to leap out of the way in time. 

Fierce was the hold of Y/n’s protective instinct, in three quick strides Y/n had swung herself on his back; arms wrapped around his weeping throat with the tip of her blade pressed into his neck. In Duane’s desperate claw for his blinded eyes, he knocked it from her hand, bone scraping against her forearms and wrists to free himself. Matilda brought him to his knees with a timely slash to his middle, which he returned with a blow of his own that sent her sprawling.  

“That’s my sister you fucking piece of shit!” She dug her fingers into the empty eye sockets and pulled up with all of her might.  Cords of muscle tore like weak threads, snapping in two like an over worn rope. With an audible tear, his head came off his shoulders in a jagged rain of black tar and shredded tissue. His body slumped out from beneath her, his head dangling like a bowling ball from her fingers.   

“I’d never forget her. No matter what.” Y/n spat down to the dripping carcass, every cell in her body buzzing with adrenaline.  

Through the haze she could see Yoongi and Namjoon running along the edges of the main room, following the clouds of smoke Taehyung lit. Yoongi cupped his hands around his mouth and hollered from the other side. “The room is locked down, so they can’t run! Light ‘em up!”  

Y/n spun on her heel to find her next target. Jungkook had Leon’s head squeezed between to hands, pressing inwards until it exploded, the rest of his body melting like a candle after it. Bear had managed to knock both arms off the woman, but they were already growing back in the short time it took for him to reload. She was coming onto him, an alacritous beast from hell fixed on dragging him down with her. And she was close, Bear struggling to keep distance from both her and Dot. 

Taehyung was catapulting pouch after pouch over them, dancing just out of distance on nimble feet. Y/n watched each one, planting her feet down and sending her vines back through the office door, passing Jimin who awaited further command and finding Hoseok still seated where they had left him; his hand pressed to the floor and searching for them. Her vines wound up him like a ladder, leeching energy from him that he readily gave. The next pouch sailed over head, and she leapt into the air, catching it in one fist with a victorious shout.  

“Bear, get down!”   

Bear listened, falling to a crouch instantly to leave her the perfect window.  

With the pouch stuffed into the lax throat, she hurled the head through the air with all her might, using her rage as fuel. The woman didn’t have time to move, blinded and weighed down by Taehyung’s smoke, and the head slammed into her chest and exploded upon impact, shattering a hole straight through it that swallowed her in purple smoke and golden flecks from the inside out.  

She crumbled to the floor with a bone chilling shriek. Nothing but a paste of ash and ichor that seeped into the floorboards was left of her.  

Bear whirled around, barrel pointed straight for Dorothy–and he hesitated. She staggered closer, not much of a threat for she was already slow moving before the onslaught of smoked herbs and witchcraft. She stepped forwards, one foot after the other in a slow drag. Her head lolled to one side, giving him a good look at her face that was torn and tainted with rot.  

“Dottie can you hear me?”  

She stayed on her path, haggard and unmoved.  

The gun shook in his fist. “You can stop this. Look, the child did. Just look at me. Look at me, okay?”  

Dorothy groaned, hands straining to grab hold of him. A mindless want.  

“I love you, Dottie. Remember that.” He pulled the trigger, and she fell into nothing. 

“Hall and main dome is clear. We are headed to the library now.” Yoongi mumbled urgently into the walkie, shrugging his way down another wide hall lined with rounded vintage bulbs instead of windows. Keen eyes reading the room to give Bear the space he needed to get up. 

Namjoon trailed after him, taking more fabric pouches from his bag and stuffing them in Taehyung’s hands. “Don’t go too crazy. These were supposed to be used sparingly in between bundles.”  

“I like these more than the bundles.” Taehyung tossed one up in the air and caught it, weighing it in his palm. “Definitely more effective.”  

“They were pretty sick.” Y/n commented from behind, hoping the walkie would pick up her voice. “How’d you get them to turn those colors?”  

 Namjoon’s expression pinched downwards. “Colors?”  

“Yeah. They were purple and gold.” She fell in step next to him, even though she knew he wouldn’t see her.  

“Huh.” Namjoon pondered her response, following Yoongi and Jimin down the right-handed hall. “It must be some kind of combination of spiritual properties. To us it just looked...like smoke.”  

Y/n hummed thoughtfully. “I wonder if it’s you. Like your energy. I’ve never seen color on any of your other tools before. Except for the bullets.”  

“Well, I didn’t make the recipe for these, believe it or not. This was something Yoongi concocted.”  

Y/n stole a glance at Yoongi’s back, watching the way he communed softly with Jimin. “Makes sense I guess.”  She made a mental note to ask him what the color purple meant to him when things calmed down.  

As the doors to the library closed in on them, she fell back in step with Jungkook and her sister, keeping ahead of Bear who had gone unusually quiet in the back. Her tiny hand slipped into hers and gave it a gentle tug, sending tingles straight up her arms and around the back of her head.  

“Was I cool too, Ente?”  

Y/n tipped her chin to gaze down at her, her complexion gaining more life and her eyes wide and clear, free from the dark hold they used to carry. She squeezed her hand tighter. “The coolest.”  

Jimin shoved is key into the lock, jiggling it a few times. He muttered to himself something about missed maintenance requests and gave it a few more tries. Jungkook intertwined their fingers momentarily, wiping the black blood off her hands with his shirt, then with a moment’s thought, he hesitantly brought it to his lips to brush them over it. It was feather light in its promise, but it reminded her that he was there, and that he had her back. Reminded her of how far they had come.  

“Got it!” Jimin’s shoulders dropped in relief as the lock finally clicked; the brown oak double doors swinging open upon command. Their moment of refuge was shattered upon their obedience.  

Bear whipped the revolver up and pulled the trigger before she could even see what he was shooting at. The bullet burrowing deep into the chest of a blacked-out shadow figure that doubled over, a burning ring of gold rippling from the wound that whittled him to nothing but a cloud of dust.  

“Ward the hallway first–let us clear them out first. Block the exits.” Bear instructed, his tone short and void of emotion. It was in moments like this that she was reminded that he was a soldier, not just a youthful vision of her eccentric distant uncle.  

He led the way through the grandiose shelves lined up with more books than one person could probably read in their lifetime; his weapon like the nose of a hunting dog, sniffing out each passage with teeth barred to bite. The ceiling was lofted like the main room, a second floor with only thousands more words tucked in jewel-toned leather staring down at them from all sides. 

In the center of the next row sat her grandmother, on the floor with her legs stretched out in front of her, staring off at the titles across from her without any recognition. She shifted to look at them, her heinous grin never failing to make her breath hitch.  

“Entlein, have you come to finally join me? I’ve missed you so much–please don’t leave me again!” She crawled closer to them, her attempt to rise thwarted by the press of Bear’s gun to her temple.  

“Move and I shoot.”  

“How could you?” A shuddering breath escaped her, followed by a feeble cry. “I trusted you. He trusted-” Margaret cut herself off, a panic-stricken look crossing her features and landing stuck there, fighting the smile she couldn’t rid herself of. “Where is my husband? He went to get you?” She glowered to Bear. “What have you done to him?”  

“What I promised to do to you if this ever happened.”  

“Wait!” Jungkook lurched forwards to stop him, but he was a second too late. The bullet ripped through her temple, painting the shelves with the last of her conscienceless. Y/n’s mouth went sour as a rush of saliva accumulated in her cheeks. And though she had no stomach to empty, she still clamped her hand over her mouth like she did, unable to look away from her body until it melted into the carpeted floors.  

Bear looked grim, lips pressed into a thin line. “We must finish clearing the room. I’m afraid the breakfast you all offered me is starting to wain. I’m feeling quite tired.” He brushed past her, offering her a quick squeeze off the shoulder as he did, the only comfort he had it in him to offer.  

They crept through each row, climbed the spiral stairs and circled the second landing, but there was no sign of anyone. Still, even as they called in for Yoongi and Namjoon to enter, Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that they were wrong. Perhaps someone was lurking just behind them or crawling between shelves before they could catch a glimpse of them. And if the look she shared Jungkook meant anything, she was right.  

He was uneasy, swiveling to skim his pearlescent eyes over each nook and cranny, ech book cover and embellished chair.  

“Library is clear, but proceed with caution.” Bear spoke evenly into the walkie. “Someone is still here. Over.” He paused, taking in a measured breath and releasing it through an open mouth. Then he started back for the stairs, treading each one carefully. “We will each take one of them. Jungkook, take Matilda with you. Just in case.”  

Yoongi’s sneakers squeaked just outside the door, sounding out of breath as he mumbled to Namjoon about which side of the room to take. Y/n took up her stance behind him, trailing after him as he dipped his fingertips in oil and drew sigils along the walls. Taehyung swiftly walked the perimeter with Bear hot on his tail, the two of the disappearing behind a few of the shelves. Jungkook herded Matilda after Namjoon and Jimin, the two of them stopping every few seconds while they dropped a new line of black salt. It was quiet. And that set her on edge.  

Bear’s gun went off, jolting her from her guarded stance. She whirled around, finding Jungkook looking as startled as her, but no Bear. She ran blindly through the shelves, following the thin wisps of smoke towards the flash of Bear’s green jacket she caught on the second landing. She took them two at a time, coming to the top just to see him shoved against the shelves; his gun dropped on the floor out of reach. Taehyung was oblivious to it, already on the other side of the landing, out of dangers way.  

Patty had him pinned between herself and the books in a struggle for control. His hands pushing against her face, her shoulder–anything he could possibly land a grip on that wasn’t her snapping jaws and clawing hands.  

“Bear, catch!” Y/n plucked the gun from the floor and tossed it to him, which he caught gratefully.  

His hands trembled as they cocked the next shot, his heels digging into the floor to keep himself upright. Bear crumpled before her eyes, whimpering continuously as he lined the barrel under Patty’s chin. It became apparent as seconds passed, that he was not whimpering idly in sorrow, but he was humming. The melody so soft and sweet, trickling out from her memory of the two of them alone in the study–a memory that he had shown her.  

It did nothing to stop Patty’s crazed thirst for his flesh between her teeth. If anything it spurred her on, and when she caught the side of his hand in her mouth as it swung to hold her at a distance, she bit straight through it, ripping his little finger and a sizable chunk of flesh with it. Bear pulled the trigger on instinct, screaming both in pain and horror as it lodged in her throat and jerked her backwards.  

He followed her to the floor, huddling over her body as she gurgled out disjointed syllables that bubbled out through the pool of blood that flooded her mouth. For a moment, as he cried over her, caressing her cheek as she started to wither, Y/n could have sworn that if only for a second –her eyes took on a lovely shade of brown. But then she was gone, following the same path her grandmother had taken through the carpet. Saturated the room with a cloud of mourning that erupted from Bear.  

His breathing was labored. It felt wrong to see him cry, the tears that streamed down his cheeks a sight that she couldn’t compute. And when he looked at her, she felt her heart stop from rooms away.  

The veins beneath his skin fluttered with a pulse of his own, protruding through the skin. Darkness filled his veins, creeping up from his hands and spidering up his forearms, winding round his neck like a noose beneath his skin. 

He unclasped the walkie talkie from his shoulder with unsteady hands and beckoned Y/n closer. She fell to her knees in front of him, her eyes burning, shaking her head uncontrollably.  

“No. Bear, no! Jungkook is-Jungkook is coming and maybe he can do something. Anything.” Her vision blurred. She couldn’t breathe.  

He took her hand and dropped the walkie in her palm, forcing her fingers to close around it with his hand. “Take this and finish the job. I know you can, Entlein. You are all just as amazing as I expected you to be.”  

 “Jungkook! Hurry!” She screamed back down, knowing it was futile for he was already running. She could hear him, just not close enough.  

Bear turned his face to the ceiling, the darkness coursing up through his cheeks, centimeters away from his eyes.  “Ich werde nicht so sein wie du. Ich weigere mich.” He notched the nozzle under his chin and squeezed the trigger.  

Y/n was trapped there. Trapped in the sticky feeling of Bear’s blood against her cheeks that had congealed black on her skin. A reminder of what had happened each time she breathed. Of what he had become. Each time she tried to stop the sobs that escaped her mouth it stretched and pulled on her. She just wanted to maul it off with her bare hands. 

Whoever was pulling the strings had a cruel heart and a sick mind, for the building felt so utterly empty now. A move more heartless than any, leaving her to mourn and grieve uncontrollably like a child. Humiliating and dehumanizing all at once. Maybe she was the M.A.D spirit now, wandering through the halls like the ghost of a fable, wishing her enemies would show their faces so she could blast them to smithereens.  

Jungkook found her dazed and coated in what was left of Bear, her hands soaked in tar from trying to dig him back up from the floor. He had been the only person in her family she had left.  

“Ente? What happened Ente?” Matilda’s cold hands squished her cheeks together. “Why are you sad? He’ll be back. I know it.”  

Y/n choked out a pitiful sound, looking up to her sister’s face that looked so...normal.  “But he won’t be him anymore.”  

“I’m me still.” Matilda offered, crouching down in front of her. “See?”  

“For now,” Y/n shook her head slowly. “I don’t know how to keep you this way.”  

“Just keep telling me that you love me. That always makes me feel better when I start to feel yucky.”  

Y/n swallowed, unable to give her sister any kind of smile. Jungkook ushered Matilda to the side, slotting his hands under Y/n’s arms and hoisting her to her feet, fretting over her cheeks and arms as though searching for any kind of wound on her own skin. Swiping each splotch of Bear away with gentle hands.  

“You’re okay. We will find him.” He held her by the shoulders, looking through her like he always could. “I’ll find a way to keep them here. I promise.” His expression turned softer, and he gestured to her with his chin. “What do you want to do? Don’t lie.”   

She paused, her mouth hung open as she fought for what to say. She weighed her options, feeling that her limits had been reached. If she pushed forwards, would she be of any help or more of a burden? Maybe it would do her good to lean on them just this once.  

 “I want to wake up.”  

He nodded stiffly, the slightest show of surprise showing itself in the widening of his eyes. “Okay.”  

“If you guys need me, I’ll come back. I just need a minute.” She brought Bear’s Walkie to her mouth, the dark droplets on the speaker almost rendering her immobile again.  “This is Y/n to Hoseok. Wake me up, please.” There was a commotion of confusion in the library below, but she ignored it.  

“Just you?” Hoseok answered her, sounding uncertain.  

“Just me.”  

There were a few beats of heavy silence before he spoke again. “On it. Hang tight, over.” 

“Aww, but I don’t want you to go!” Matilda pouted at her. “I want to keep playing!”  

“If you can stay nice, we can spend more time together. Play with Jungkook and them, okay?” Y/n was barely holding herself together, squeezing her sister’s hand tightly. She didn’t want to let go of it. She pivoted to Jungkook, taking a small step towards him. “Hold me while I go?”  

He didn’t answer verbally, opening his arms for her to burrow in and crushing her to his chest. Matilda wrapped her arms around her legs, joining in on the embrace. The taste of bitter earth and peppermint washed over her senses and she let her eyes close, nuzzling deeper into his shoulder.  

“I’ll be there when you wake up.”  

And he was, just his time with a steady beating heart and warm skin; eyes still closed while hers were unbearably wet. 

_________________________________________ 

She lost track of how long she stayed curled up on the floor of Jimin’s office. Soothed by the steady drum of Jungkook’s pulse and the restless tinkering of Hoseok with his radio. If she wasn’t so out of it, she would laugh at just how Hoseok he was being. The not-so-subtle side-eye he kept giving her, the random clear of his throat or overt sniffle just to remind her that he was in the room. Words were never his strong suit in the sense that they made him uncomfortable, but god, was he hovering over he like a mother hen even from six feet away. Enough was enough, she had to give him something to ease the tension.  

“I’m alive.” Y/n croaked, her self-depreciating chuckle falling flat. While laughter was usually a safe jacket the two of them shared during discomfort, this time it almost made her sound worse. 

Hoseok grunted, his leg starting to bounce. “I can see that.” 

Y/n quickly wiped at her cheeks, but nothing rid her of the residual weight of Bear. It was like it was still all over her, clinging to her. Perhaps making herself useful would help take some of the ache away. “Can I help with anything?”  

Hoseok blinked at her like a fish out of water. “Uh...Sure. Let me just uh...” He looked at the map, then at the Walkie Talkie in his hand. “How about you man the radio? There's not much else to do here right now.”  

Her ears rang, and she stared down at the little army green box blankly. She was in the danger zone, because her eyes were starting to burn again, and her lip trembled no matter how hard she fought it.  

“Fuck–Okay. Maybe not that. Here-” He scrambled into motion, tucking the radio in his pocket and holding out the map of the building and a pen. “You can cross off the rooms as they go. Just to make sure they don’t miss one.”  

Sniffling down any remaining urge to cry, she nodded, shuffling over to the couch and taking a seat next to him, not even trying to hide the way she pressed as close to his side as she could. She craved something warm and alive to keep her sane. “What uh...What do I need to cross off so far?”  

“I already got the main hall. If you want to cross off the library, and the hall to the basement.” Hoseok cleared his throat into his fist, then pointed at each room. “I got coms.”  

The lines she drew were meticulously straight. She was putting in way too much effort for a simple ‘X’ drawn on flimsy paper they probably wouldn’t use again. Most likely because the scratch of the pain took her away from the itchiness of her skin where she could still imagine was still coated. Hoseok fidgeted endlessly, shifting this way and that, his head twitching to the side every so often when he’d open his mouth to say something and decide against it, snapping it shut.  

“You good?” She tried to keep her tone even, wiping at her cheek again with the back of her hand subconsciously. Key emphasis on ‘tried’.  

“I should be asking you that.” He snorted, spinning the Walkie in his hand for the hundredth time.  

“Like I said,” she watched the machine spin in his palm, vacant and passive, “I’m alive.”  

There it was again. The twitch of his head to the left. The subtle curl of his upper lip. The increasing speed of his leg.  

“Look,” Hoseok started, shaking the hair from his eyes and looking downcast at his lap. “I know I’m not...I know I’m not usually the one you would get all soft and wordy with but...” He peered at her from the corner of his eye. “If you wanna talk about it I’m here. Or if you wanna scream about it that’s cool too.” He nudged her playfully with an elbow. “Maybe punch a wall or something, who knows.”  

“I know. I just...Don’t even want to say it. I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to be here, away from it all, even though we only just got back.”  

Hoseok frowned and rubbed his palms on the tops of his jeans. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I can always see it if that’s easier. Maybe it will help get it off your mind, sharing it with me.”  

“That’s-” She stopped the protest before it left. Her immediate reaction to dismiss his comforts challenged by the voice in her head reminding her to be more honest with them all now that they were back. Keeping it never got her anywhere in the past. She shifted gears, laying the pen and paper down on the ground. “That’s something we can try.”  

Y/n held her hand out for him to take, and he did so, sliding his palm into place flush against hers. It was warm, just like he always seemed to be, the heat traveling up her wrist and forearm, tickling her neck and flooding her with softness. When he poked around, it felt different than Yoongi. In temperature obviously yes, but also in skill. Yoongi poked through her emotions like he was weeding through files in a drawer at an office, running a gentle finger over them and picking which one he needed with assured ease. Hoseok moved in the way someone would rummage through their pockets: hasty and blind, if only a bit clumsy.  

And what sucked with this version in particular was that she could see it when he pulled the moment to the front of her mind. Like a film projected on a screen that was too bright, faint and distant. With a flash of light she saw as Bear crumpled again and flinched when she was reminded of his blood on her cheeks. She wiped it away again.  

Hoseok sighed. He squeezed her hand in his with short pulses, each in increments of three. It was soothing in its own way, a unique way to comfort her without some kind of vulnerable word vomit. Simple, but effective.  

Her other hand still itched to scrub at her cheeks, and she hadn’t even noticed she must have done it a handful more times until Hoseok smacked it away from her face, a tight-lipped smile on his face. “There’s nothing there.”  

“I can still feel it...” She argued, this time using her sleeve to dab at her skin.  

Hoseok swiped her cheek with his thumb then held it up for her to see, waving it back and forth. “See? Nothin’ there.”  

Her breath caught in her throat, reaching out to latch onto his wrist before he could pull it too far away. “Do it again.”  

“Huh?” He blanked.  

“It feels better when you do it.” She pulled his hand an inch closer. “If you wouldn't mind.”  

He inspected her closely, cautiously bringing his fingers up to brush over her cheeks, sweeping away the pressure there with each gentle motion. The pads of his fingers traced over her eyes that fluttered closed, dancing across her forehead and cascading down her cheeks, outlining the shape of her jaw with a slow drag of his knuckles. Maybe he could feel where to go next, or maybe he had seen it in the vision. Either way, each spot she was convinced was contaminated was wiped clean by his touch burned it away completely.  

Stalling at her jaw, he waited a few breaths before asking her “Does it feel better? 

“Very.” She opened her eyes to find him closer than she remembered, his body warm through his layered hoodie. “Thanks.”  

A switch tripped in his mind, and the clouded expression he wore dispersed, retracting his hand quickly and stuffing it in his pocket. “Anytime.”  

Namjoon rattled through the speaker every now and then (sometimes more than necessary, which Y/n suspected had to do with him keeping her anxiety about their safety low) telling them which room they had completed and asking for Hoseok's input on how the building felt. They hadn’t much left, save for the second-floor restrooms and the Min exhibit. Hoseok’s company was much appreciated while the gears in her brain turned onwards towards any kind of solution. 

Y/n two options: fall into a low pit of gloom and wallow about Bear, or get up and do something about it. Her mother and Jin were set to arrive with any and all artifacts or boxes they had taken within the next ten minutes, and she’d be damned if she didn’t stick her nose in them as soon as time permitted. And then there was the note she received from Adelaide–which while it was exciting, was incredibly frustrating. She had been trying to find her this entire time! She couldn’t give them a hint or- 

Both of their phones buzzed simultaneously, and she jumped about half a foot in the air.  

[Jin 🛎️]: We just got into the lot. Be in shortly.  

We. Right. She’d have to see her mother again, something she had very little interest in actually doing. There was just too much to unpack, too much to process. Too much to look past. Even if she was doing what she did for good, she still pulled some bullshit moves on her and her friends. That doesn’t just disappear.  

Because she can see the after math on Hoseok’s face right now, lit up for her to see by the dimmed screen. What her mother had done to him would leave long lasting scars. The kind that tarnished trust and left massive holes where it used to be. They might never be the same.  

“Hey, you don’t have to talk to her. You can go chill in one of the exhibits if you want. I got it, ‘kay?”  

He schooled his features into his usual laze-fair mask he lied to parade around in, blowing off her concern with a wave of his hand. “Nah, I can handle it. Don’t worry about me.”  

The door to Jimin’s office opened not moments later, and he himself paused in the threshold to address them. “We are finished. I’m going to help them carry everything in. Would you two mind waking up Kook?”  

They moved quickly, scrambling from their seats and grabbing for the bottle at the same time, sharing rushed apologies while she angled the dropper between Jungkook’s parted lips. He stirred almost instantly; his gifts no doubt giving him a leg up that she couldn’t deny made her jealous. He smacked his lips together a few times, and she had to resist the urge to bend down and plant a soft kiss on them while he was still asleep. There were definitely more important things at the moment. 

He squinted up at her and brought a hand up to block the overhead light, still groggy. “You look...better?”  

“A little bit. That break helped a ton.” She smoothed a finger over the little wrinkle his creased brows made, the muscles relaxing under her touch. “Already trying to think of ways to get him back.”  

Jungkook hummed, pupils finally adjusting to the room. “We were too.”  

“And that’s why I choose to keep you around.” Y/n’s smile quivered slightly despite the joke. The warmth in her chest soothing the mourning ache. She could always count on them. “How’s Matilda?” 

Jungkook frowned. “She started to change towards the end. We were able to convince her to go outside.” Two of his long fingers came up to brush across her cheeks. “She’s okay.”  

Hoseok cleared his throat and Y/n jerked away from Jungkook. “I hear ‘em coming. Just so you're not making out when your mom gets in.”  

Y/n flushed. “We weren’t even-We didn’t-I was just waking him up!”  

“Po-tay-to po-tah-to. Same thing.” Hoseok got up with an exaggerated groan. “Though I think seeing her shit her pants might just be the silver lining we need.”  

“Tempting.” Y/n offered Jungkook a hand up right when the parade of footsteps grew within earshot.  

“I tried to return things as I found them. Though I’m sure you will do a good job resituating anything if need be.” Her mother sounded breathless, like she had been rambling about boxes and photos for far too long. Not being able to shut up when experiencing any kind of discomfort is apparently hereditary.  

“I’m sure you did your best.” Jimin held the door open for her politely, hands gripping at the boxes in his hand like his life depended on it.  

Her mother kept her head down as she entered, dropping the box on his desk with quick glances at Y/n that she hid behind a scratch of her cheek or a scan of the room. The others trailed in like a train, arms full of labeled boxes and eyes heavy. Yoongi was last, chugging along with a subtle sway and eyes he struggled to open again when he blinked. Namjoon wasn’t doing that much better, though he was better at plastering a wilted half smile at her mother when necessary. Yoongi offered her none of that curtesy. 

When the last of it was loaded on the table Mariah lingered, fiddling with the sleeve of her blazer or chain of necklace obsessively. Jin stayed composed as ever, hands resting on the wood of the table with an air civility that always followed him whenever her mother was around. But the silence was awkward. Yoongi did nothing but stare at her expectantly with arms crossed, and Namjoon busied himself helping Jimin pop the tops off the boxes and start digging.  

Suddenly she coughed into her shoulder and brushed her hands down her slacks. “Well if that’s everything then, I’ll be going to take care of your father. Like I told Jin, any information I’ve gathered is in the folder on top there, as well as the written contract you requested.” She nodded to the box and hurried towards the door. “Keep me updated and be sure to reach out if there’s anything I can help with.” She scanned the crowd of faces surrounding her with clear discomfort. It wasn’t like her to give up so much control. She passed over Y/n quickly, exiting through the door with a barely audible sigh.  

Y/n veered towards the table, snatching the folder and flipping it open. The first sweep of the page left her stuck still as stone, riddled with fissures that threatened to blow at any moment. Before she could even register what she was doing, she was chasing after her into the main room. “Wait!”  

Mariah’s spine straightened, and she spun to answer her with hand perched on the front door. “Y-Yes?”  

Y/n chewed on her cheek, challenging herself to look straight at her. “I just wanted to say that I’m...I’m sorry. For being so harsh. And for what you had to go through. Jin told me a lot.” Y/n wanted the ground to swallow her whole, her throat growing tighter with each word. “But we can’t just...I’m sure you’re aware of how much what you’ve done hurt us. Yoongi. Hoseok. Everyone.” She paused, sucking in a large breath.  “I don’t...I don’t hate you. I could never truly hate you. Ever. It’s just going to take a lot of time, and I can’t speak for anyone else or promise forgiveness. But I promise to try–if you do too.”  

Mariah blinked rapidly, eyes glittering under the fluorescent lighting. “I’m sorry too. More than you’ll ever know. I would like to try if you’d let me.”  

Y/n nodded, walking back towards Jimin’s office with heavy steps. “Okay. Sounds like a...sounds like a plan. Say hi to Dad for me.” She didn’t look back, tearing back across the hall and back to that sheet of paper that she had given her everything to see.  

The rush of their battle had gone, replaced with hushed conversations and gentle breathing of that settled over the room after her mother had left. It was the kind of celebration a bittersweet victory deserved. Yoongi collapsed on one of the sofas with an arm shielding his face from the light; Jimin was guiding Taehyung, Jin, and Namjoon on how to handle aged photographs and documents; Jungkook was still gathering his bearings on the opposite sofa while he watchfully awaited her return. That left Hoseok, who lingered at her side while she slid up to the table. She pinched the paper free of the folder and held it gingerly. Cradled it like a child.  Gazed upon it like a holy relic. Reread the words and followed the dotted line meant for her own signature until they were seared onto the back of her eyelids and streaked over everything she looked at.  

“I, Anselm Wörner, hereby reinstate Y/n Wörner as the sole inheritor of my title as proprietor of the Wörner Hotel and Estate and all its applicable affiliates upon completion of our agreement as it pertains to the rehabilitation and reclamation of the property and its disorderly conduct.  Apprenticeship will begin immediately following the completion of all terms described.”  

 A pen flung itself into her line of sight, held out to her by Hoseok and a weary grin. “Well, Miss Wörner?”  

She took the pen from his hand and the let the weight of it drag her hand to the paper, the tip hovering over the line that sat hungry for the ink.  

She paused.  

“Jin, can you do something for me?”  

He looked up at her from his stack of letters he was designated to organize with wide eyes. “Sure. What is it?”  

_________________________________________ 

The earth was damp, still darkened by the late-night thunderstorm and dusted with the first wave of brown and yellow leaves that had been so gullible to believe that the first few gusts of cool September air meant autumn had arrived. Maybe for other places, but here the weather had a habit of pulling the rug out from under your feet each time you thought you were safely squared away in a new season. It was a miracle in itself that Jungkook wasn’t following her here, convinced to stay behind only if to keep a watchful eye over the friends that stayed back to prepare the home. She didn’t leave without a soft warning to stay alert and diligent, no matter how many times Jin had assured him it was a church, he didn’t let up until he had kissed her knuckles goodbye. 

Headstones of gray, marble, and granite nestled in crooked rows emerged on all sides, bowing to her as she passed. Y/n knew exactly who she was looking for, the pristine oval shape etched with tulips and an obligatory cross standing proud amongst a long line of Wörner's, just a small way up the hillside, maybe twenty yards or so from the church that guarded them.  

Adelaide had always been such an enigma to her. Described by many in her life as cold, strict, bitter and stoic–living long past her expiration date for the sheer sake of spite. In the brief tales Jimin had managed to weave, she caught glimpses of a different woman. A woman with a fierce passion and a wicked grin. A dare-devil. Stubborn and resistant. Wild.  

It was obvious now to her that she must have lived two lives in order to garner such a contradictory reputation. That or someone was hell bent on making her seem like just some jealous and bitter old woman that lived in the past. A perfect reminder that history is only as accurate as the person in control wants it to be.  

“Do you want me to wait here?” Jin asked, stopping a few headstones behind.  

“I don’t mind, whatever you want to do. She seems to like you anyways.” Y/n commented, stepping over a fresh bouquet left behind for a loved one. The leaves started to crunch again, lagging just behind her.  

Y/n ran her finger over her name, tracking the grooves of the letters and numbers. She had said to come find her when she was ready, and this was the only place she could think of coming to. Her butt hit the dirt unceremoniously, legs crossed over one another and pen spinning in her finger tips.  

“Hey. I’m not sure if you’re listening, or if you can hear me,” She plopped the folder on her lap, “I just got handed a contract that gives me the opportunity you never had. And in a way, I owe it to you. I have yet to sign it, but I wanted you to be here for it so...” she shuffled the paper out and uncapped the pen from her pocket. “Here’s to the both of us.”  

It felt unreal, seeing her signature next to the Wörner emblem. It wasn’t a promise to herself anymore, but a promise to Adelaide, to her father and Matilda–to Bear who should have been over her shoulder right now. It didn’t feel as climactic as the thought it would. After all it was just her name on a piece of paper, not a life changing action of any kind. It was just the beginning, the start of actions that bite back with real teeth.  

“Adelaide if you’re here, listening–I’m ready. Ready for whatever wisdom or guidance you have to throw at me.” Y/n looked around the empty cemetery, half-hoping she would find her standing there. Of course she wasn’t. It was just more gravestones and a shivering Jin. “Whenever you’re ready, of course,” she added with just a touch of sarcasm.  

 The wind picked up, scattering the small hoard of leaves further across the grass, sending them tumbling against her thighs and spiraling into stones. She waited until the evening chill nipped at her fingertips and stole her breath, rising in defeat to trudge back to the car with Jin.  

“Shit!” The contract slipped from the folder and skittered to the ground for her to scramble after, tripping over a smaller headstone with hissed apologies to catch it. It got stuck against a thin rock, the name etched in blocky letters.  

Heidi Wörner.  

Y/n shivered, thinking of the twins and their horrid faces that no doubt used to be just as youthful as her sisters. It was hard to shake the prexisting notion of them, to see them the same as her sister–a spirit tainted. She bent down to grab it, swiping it quickly off the grayed stone edge. 

 Jin spun on her, stricken with alarm. “Y/n–step back!”  

A small hand tunneled through the dirt and grappled for her wrist, digging into the skin with bruising force. Her face and body followed shortly after, using Y/n’s arm like a rope to pull herself out of the grave. Heidi’s spirit twisted and writhed until her torso was unearthed, hissing and snarling like a dog, and clawing her grubby hands at the piece of paper.  

“It’s mine! I want it! Give it to me!”  

Jin wrapped his arms around Y/n’s waist and pulled, tugging her free of the little girls grasp with a grunt. Y/n stumbled into him, steadying herself against his shoulder. More hands of different sizes pushed their way through the soft dirt like a scene from a novice horror film, surrounding them and pinching at her pant leg and fumbling for her ankles.  

“We need to leave, now!” Jin slipped his hand into hers and used it to anchor her close while they zipped through the maze of stone, his guiding hold sometimes the only thing that kept her from toppling face first down the hill and into someone’s grandmother’s grave. He yanked open the car door for her, pushing her into her seat and buckling her in while she caught her breath. In a quick dash he was in the driver’s seat; seat buckle forfeited for time’s sake and sending them into reverse right over one of the ornate bushes that lined the property. Jin maneuvered them out onto the road at blinding speed, one that she never thought he’d be capable of.  She could see their shadows over the hill growing smaller in the rearview mirror; her ancestors all climbing over each other for their chance to get to her first.  

Y/n whipped around to face Jin, the world blurring across the window in blotches of dark colors. “I thought that was holy ground?! You know, demon proof?”  

“To be fair, they aren’t demons, they’re human.” Jin panted, running through a yellow light just as it flickered to red, not bothering to slow down.  

“They are evil ghosts coming to kill me!” Y/n exclaimed. “Sounds pretty demon-like to me!”  

“I’m going to let you off without my demon rant. I’m sure you’re not dying to hear my information dump of Christian lore.” Jin slowed the vehicle down only when they were a few miles out and starting up the back roads to the Estate. “Just know that they aren’t technically demons.”  

Y/n rolled her eyes. “Techincal schmechnical. They shouldn’t be there!”  

“As much as I agree with you, I don’t think when they prepared the property that they would have stopped to think ‘huh, maybe we should make sure we protect from infected ghosts of family members just in case!’ considering not all of them even believed in familial ghosts anyway!” Jin shot back with an equally sarcastic huff.  He seemed to catch himself, blinking once and clearing his throat of any attitude he had. “Is the contract okay?”  

She looked it over, flipping it from front to back. “Yeah. Seems fine.” She gulped, dropping it into her lap. “Kook and them are going to be so pissed.  He’s going to give me that ‘told you so’ look and I can’t stand it.” Y/n groaned, dragging her hands down her face.  

“We handled it well.” Jin shrugged, plush lips curving up in a sweet smile, taking one hand off the wheel and offering it up as a fist. “Team Seokjin, right?”  

Y/n looked from his fist to his face, then with a burst of laughter, bumped her fist against his. “Right. Because speeding off through town and almost running a red is handling it well. I swear we almost hit a pedestrian back there...”  

He made a face. “Don’t say such nonsense, that was a shrub. And I didn’t hit it, I bumped it on the way out. You know I would never.”  

She shrugged with feigned innocence. “I dunno. Looked like a helpless old lady to me.”  

“I haven’t seen a single person on the sidewalk since we passed the ice cream shop. Don’t play those games with me because we both know I’ll win.”  

“And what will Hoseok say when he hears about your reckless driving...” She tutted playfully.  

Jin visibly paled. “He’ll say nothing because he won’t know. If he finds out I’ll never hear the end of it.”  

“Oh yeah? Says who? Call me a canary ‘cause I’ll be singing when we get back.”  

“Then I’m going to tell Jungkook you stuck your hand in a grave!”  

“Ugh! Fine!” Y/n pursed her lips at him. “I didn’t do that by the way.”  

“And I didn’t hit an old woman!”  

Y/n side eyed him. “Truce. For now.”  

The car bounced into the Estates driveway, illuminating the front of the house that waited for their arrival. Jungkook and Jimin were lounging on the front steps in sweats and hoodies; legs stretched out as they talked idly while awaiting her return. Her pulse quickened at the sight of the house and the propped open front door. The foyer lit up with warm lighting as bodies moved to and fro. It looked like a home should–Overflowing with a golden glow and stuffed with life.  They must have finished upping the protection on their bedrooms, because the two of them looked freshly showered and relaxed. Something she wasn’t sure she’d be able to be in that house until this was all over.  

Jin cut the engine, tucking the keys into his pockets and slipping the folder under his arm. “You don’t tell Hoseok I was speeding and I won’t tell Jungkook what happened. Deal?” He held his pinky up in the air.  

“Deal.” She wound her pinky around his and shrugged off her seatbelt. 

The night air was even colder here than in town and she wrapped her jacket around her middle to stave off some of the bitterness. Jimin rose to his feet the instant her sneakers met the gravel; arms outstretched for a hug.  

“I’m guessing you finished the job?” he asked softly, tucking his chin on her shoulder and swinging the two of them back and forth in their embrace.  

“Signed, sealed, delivered.” Y/n remarked, burrowing into his shoulder to siphon the warmth from it. She offered Jungkook a grin from over Jimin’s shoulder, one hand reaching out and motioning for him to come closer.  

He did–slowly–raking his eyes over her face with a suspicious amount of detail. 

“How’s the house?” Her words were muffled by Jimin’s hoodie.  

“ S’fine.” Jungkook answered plainly. Then he squinted and Y/n knew she’d have to distract him before he caught on.  

“What he means is,” Jimin started, pulling away from the hug, “bedrooms are all clear. We cleansed the dining room and warded it off, though we refrained from going anywhere else and pushing our luck. Malicious compliance, as we agreed.”  

Y/n nodded in understanding. Their new “rule” was based on the mysterious rules, but on their terms. No discussions of what they were doing within the house, only over text, writing, or outside of the home in the historical society that they had just fully secured. It kept them safe from wandering eyes and listening ears, while also hopefully minimizing retaliation within the home. Cleansing the entire home was off the table. Not only did they not really know yet how Adelaide previously kept the house in order, but cleansing it themselves would be physically and spiritually draining, as well as unimaginably dangerous. They would only make it into two rooms before the house was swarming, they were the strongest here after all.  

“At least the rooms are safe. But it sucks to have to be back in the buddy system.” Y/n pouted slightly, already missing the sweet taste of freedom she had grown used to while away from the property.  

Jimin chuckled, tickling at her sides. “What, are we that miserable a company?”  

“No! I’m just going to miss getting late night snacks and not having to wake you all up. Or God forbid I run out of water and wake up parched–the tap water is questionable at best and I’d rather risk running into a ghost than have the stomachache that will give me.”  

Jimin shook his head at her antics. “I’ll just buy you a bigger water bottle then.”  

“Ooo! How about a water cooler like they have in offices? We can huddle around it every night before bed and gossip like-” 

“Something happened.” Jungkook stated confidently after observing the way Jin exited the car, cutting off her wishes of roleplaying office life.  

Y/n blanked, sharing a quick look with Jin. “I don’t know what you mean. Just a perfectly normal grave yard visit.”  

“Very normal.” Jin affirmed with an overly upbeat smile.  

Jungkook looked between the two of them, one eyebrow traveling upwards. “Uh huh. Sure.” He bent down low, their noses almost touching. “Remember I can see when you lie.” Y/n gulped at his proximity, taking a nervous step back to create some distance.  

“Ding dong!” Just then Hoseok popped his head around the door frame. “Ma told me to tell youse all that dinner is ready.” As quick as he was there, he vanished back behind the door. 

“Ma?” Y/n’s jaw dropped.  

“The Jungs are here for dinner,” Jimin informed in her ear. “And Jungkook’s dad.”  

Jungkook ignored her shock and continued in his demands . “What happened?”  

“How lovely, I’m starving.” Jin clapped his hands together, rubbing them with excitement to derail him.  

“Me too!” Y/n tried to squeeze past Jungkook, but he didn’t let her, stepping in time with her towards the steps.  

“I’m not gonna stop asking.” Jungkook chided, following closely behind up the steps.  

“It’s fine, Kook! I promise whatever happened wasn’t-Ouch!” Y/n was halted by something tiny and hard knocking against her skull and clattering to the ground at her feet. With one hand on her forehead to soothe the dull ache, she bent down to pick up the shiny object.  

“What the fuck...” She muttered, turning it over in her hand. Her companions crowded around her to get a closer look.  

Jimin snuck his chin on her shoulder. “What is it?”   

She tilted her head to the side in confusion. “A...quarter?”  

The sleek silver looked pristine as though it was never used or even touched for that matter. She flipped it over to read the back and ran her eyes over the ridges of its design, following the distinct shape on the back and the writing up top.  

Texas. 1845.  

Over the treetops and off towards town, she heard the distant trill of a train–knowing full well no train like that still ran in these parts, and never at this hour.   

Hoseok’s head came back once more. “Was that a fuckin’ train?”  

“Yeah,” Y/n mused, twiddling with the coin, “it was.” She shook her head in amazement, meeting Jin’s gaze. “Say Jin, what does your gut say about another road trip?”  

He mulled over her question, running his tongue over the inside of his cheek. “Something feels right about it.”  

“Perfect.” Y/n quipped, tucking the quarter in her pocket.  

Jimin and Hoseok shared a look of confusion, following after her into the foyer. Hoseok watched her kick off her shoes atop the haphazard pile. “Not that I’m opposed, but where to?”  

“Texas.” Y/n stood up straight, tipping an invisible hat to him. “Maybe some time away from this place will do some good. I haven’t seen my cousins in a while anyway.” 

Jin crouched low, focused on organizing the disaster of a shoe pile while he spoke. “You think that’s where she wants you to go?”  

“I do,” Y/n nodded. “I did ask for a sign before the whole Heidi-” Y/n clapped her hands over her mouth, eyes darting to look at Jungkook.  

“The ‘whole Heidi’ what?” Jungkook repeated, the beginning of an ‘I told you so’ already breaking through his expectant glare.  

Y/n looked with wide eyes from Jin to Jungkook, then Hoseok; her hand still pressed over her mouth. She dropped it from her mouth to point at Jin, speaking so fast she stumbled over her words. “Jinhitanoldwomanwithhiscar!”     

“He what?!” Hoseok’s mother roared from the kitchen, her steps hurrying closer. 

“And he ran a red light!” Y/n started to back away towards the stairs to safety for Jin looked like he was going to pounce at her. 

Hoseok’s grin grew literal inches, mischief alight in his eyes like he was twelve on Christmas morning. He cupped both hands around his mouth and shouted “She said Jin hit someone with his car!”  

Jin launched one of Yoongi’s sneakers at Hoseok’s already retreating form, face flushed red. “I did not! It was a shrub!!”  

_________________________________________ 

Y/n took back the initial wave of anxiety at the thought of sharing a meal with Hoseok’s and Jungkook’s parents: it was a wonderful distraction. Misuk took up almost the entire evening gushing over Hoseok’s sister’s upcoming wedding, which she was more than happy to answer any questions Y/n had about it with equal enthusiasm. Neither group of parents let slip just what exactly brought them home besides half-hearted comments about catching them after all of their vacations. But Y/n had known Misuk long enough to recognize that same twitch of the chin Hoseok had when he was holding something back.  

Jungkook’s father was reserved, yet oh so very observant. She didn’t miss the way his eyes would glue onto Jungkook anytime he helped Y/n with a napkin or scooped more rice into her bowl with a gentle grunt. He was a professor after all.   

“So,” Y/n spoke up during one of Misuk’s welcomed pauses, pushing her dinner around her plate and keeping her tone inconspicuous. “I was thinking of taking a trip down to visit my cousins. I saw Miranda post about her graduation and thought it might be good to see her before she’s off for her internship.”  

Mariah hummed, chewing her food slowly. “That sounds like a great plan, I’m sure your aunt would love to have you.”  

“Would it just be you going?” Jungkook’s father, Sanghun, interjected smoothly.  

Y/n shifted under his watch, his pinpoint stare proof enough that him and Jungkook were related. “I was going to throw it out to everyone else, see who wants to come.”  

“I will.” Jungkook answered swiftly.  

Sanghun looked from his son to Y/n a few times, nodding distantly. “I see.”  

“I’ll go.” Hoseok chimed in, dropping his chopsticks into his bowl with one hand laid over his stomach. “I can drive you around.”  

Misuk choked on her sip of wine, putting her glass down to dab politely at her mouth with a napkin. “Wh-what about your sister’s wedding? We could use you here to help with that.”  

Hoseok made a face. “Eh. Sis already shot down my idea. Said I don’t see her “vision”.” He made air quotes around his words.  

“That’s because you suggested she hire a birthday party clown for her wedding. My mom sent me the pictures of your choices.” Jin gave him a pointed look over his glass. Yoongi snorted into his tumbler, spiced rum bubbling up to speckle his cheeks.  

“See, at least someone appreciates my vision.” Hoseok waved to Yoongi who was fighting for his life not to laugh. “You have to admit, Honky Tonk Tony made a hell of a good balloon giraffe. She loves giraffes! And he dances.”  

“Yeah, I saw that too.” Jin’s lips quirked up, if only slightly. “The video you sent of him doing the Cotton-Eyed Joe to the Backstreet Boys was very impressive.”  

“As I was saying,” Misuk cut Hoseok off from responding, “Your sister would love to have you around. It’d be good for you too–spending some time with your family.”  

Hoseok visibly deflated with a sigh, already sagging in his seat in defeat.  

“I can always help,” Mariah offered. “You know how much I love Ji. Between Hana and I, we could take a huge chunk of it off her plate, I’m sure.”  

Hoseok looked to Mariah quickly, then back down to his plate.  

Misuk smiled at her mother, the edges wobbling under pressure. “I’ll be sure to let her know. But I think having you two and her brother help would take even more off her plate, don’t you think?”  

“Oh I’m sure, I just thought he might like to see the ranch. Maybe get a chance to fulfill some of those old western fantasies he had when he was younger.” Mariah laughed fondly at the memories that had started to resurface. “The way that he used to run around with that hat and those old boots–I thought his feet would melt into them he wore them so-”  

“-I know how my son used to play.” Misuk took another sip of her drink. “I also know he is in no place to be galivanting on horseback and trumping through fields.” 

Hoseok’s demeanor faltered, mortification flashing briefly into his expression. “Ma-”  

“What, are we still not allowed to acknowledge it out loud now?” She made a sweeping motion to everyone at the table. “Everyone is aware, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s your life.”  

“Yeah, it’s my life. I’d kinda like to go see it with my own two feet before I have to be pushed around.” Hoseok stood his ground against Misuk’s hardened stare.  

The tension was so thick you could snip it with the scissors on the table. Misuk opened her mouth to scold him before her husband–who had kept to himself for most of the meal–broke his silence.  

“Ah–let him go. We have the wedding covered. He needs to go out and live a little.” Jeonghun chided his wife gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Keeping him cooped up won’t benefit him.”  

“I’ll go with them to help keep an eye on him.” Jin asserted himself into the discussion again. “I’ll even take him to the doctor before we go, make sure he’s still on the right track.”  

Misuk looked defeated, releasing a curt sigh through thinly pressed lips. “If that’s what he wants.”  

Dinner ended once her mother offered to pay for their flights, requesting everyone who wished to go reach out to her the following morning so they could move schedules around accordingly. Y/n stayed back, lending the parents a helping hand with the dishes that couldn’t fit in the dishwasher, Seonghan taking up Y/n’s side to dry them.  It was an intricate dance they wove, tiptoeing around certain words and spinning around different topics. Though it helped to know that everyone was on the same page from Jin’s shared perspective. Now it was just about reading that page aloud without stirring up trouble. 

“I haven’t gotten the chance to offer my congratulations,” his voice reminding Y/n of melted silver, thick and fluid, just twinged with rust. “I’m afraid Jungkook neglected to mention your current uh...predicament.”  

“Oh, right.” Y/n’s cheeks burned. “With everything going on I’m sure it just...slipped his mind.”  

He let out a low meditative hum, reflecting over it with a moments quiet. “I’m happy for you. All of you.” The serving plate she was washing slipped through sudsy fingers and she wrestled to keep it from crashing against the metal barrel of the sink. He chuckled at her display, pinching the edge so she could grab it easier. “I just hope that the...world...will be kind to you. All I ask is that from now on we try to keep each other updated. I’d like to not find out my son fell victim to a bear attack through a letter from my insurance.”  

“Right,” Y/n squeaked, rinsing the tray of soap and passing it to him. “I’m sorry about that. He said not to call and I just-”  

“Yeah, I know my son.” He shook his head dismissively. “And I know bears.”  

Y/n chewed on the tip of her tongue, reaching for the pile of chopsticks along the bottom of the sink. “How much experience do you have with them? Bears, I mean.”  

“Not too much personally, but my wife had quite the history with them. And my grandfather had observed a few, though he liked to keep his distance.” He made a noise in the back of his throat which was a cross between a grunt and a clear of his throat, a tick he was known for when conjuring up a thought. Now whispering. “To be quite honest, they terrify me.”  

Y/n waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. His mood shifted with a click of his tongue and a kind smile. “Ah well, enough of that. It’s been too long since we’ve caught up. How have things been with you?”  

“A little bit chaotic, a little bit ‘I don’t know what I’m doing, like, ever’. You know how it is.” Y/n brushed off his inquiry in a joking manner that he mirrored.  

“Oh do I, I’m knee deep in it up in New York. Almost every kid that sits through one of my lectures comes in with their heads screwed on backwards before they manage to figure out where they’re supposed look years later.” He sighed, his grin widening as he playfully bumped her with his shoulder. “What else? I have to get caught up–you know, before we are at a wedding with clowns, talking about how time flies.” 

While she laughed, there was this warm, wiggly, feeling in her chest that mimicked the feeling of home. Being in the kitchen, washing dishes after a hearty meal surrounded by loved ones with full bellies and lazy grins was exactly what she was fighting for. For when he tossed her a wink, she realized it probably wasn’t Ji’s wedding he was referring to. And instead of feeling fear, or grief for what has become of the day–she saw a light at the end of the tunnel. A drop of hope that one day things will be better.  

_________________________________________ 

[The Most Annoying and Toxic Coworkers] 

[Morning Glory 🌼]: Hey 

[Morning Glory 🌼]: Is anyone awake?  

Y/n stared at her screen and the time stamp they had been sent from sometime around one thirty in the morning. It was almost two now, and no one had yet to respond. It was hard for her mind not to latch onto all of the worst case scenarios it conjured up, the impulse to get up and walk the halls to listen to their breathing stronger than it had been in weeks. But she couldn’t, and that was killing her. She had almost forgotten just how stifling it was to be home like this: unable to go anywhere or do anything for herself.  

The only thing stopping her from climbing out the window was that Jimin’s arm was thrown over her waist, keeping her grounded by the soft puff of his breathing against her neck. Her hands itched to send another, but she knew that if no one had answer by now that surely another late-night message wouldn’t change the outcome. Minutes ticked by, her brain only conjuring up more wild concoctions of fear: her friends strewn across the floor, Bear’s final words whispered through gritted teeth before he blew his own skull in two.  

No matter how hard she tried to comfort herself with simple reassurance that they would fix him–fix all of them–she was still frozen in a strange place of mourning someone that was already dead. Grieving someone she had already attended a funeral for decades prior.  

The vibration of her phone pulled her out of it, dropping the device straight onto her face in her rush to check who else was awake.  

[Joon 🌱]: Sorry–I was catching up on some work in the greenhouse. What’s up? 

Y/n rubbed at her sore nose before replying.  

[Morning Glory 🌼]: Can’t sleep. I’m having the Urges (tm) again. Trying not to rip my own hair out and climb the walls. The usual.  

[Joon 🌱]: 😟😰 

[Joon 🌱]: Why don’t I come get you, get your hands dirty at the greenhouse and your mind off it.  

[Morning Glory 🌼]: That actually sounds amazing. I miss her :(    

She slipped out from under Jimin, scampering around the room to throw on a pair of sweatpants and a thick pair of socks. Namjoon’s footsteps creaked into the hall by the time she was bending over to kiss Jimin’s forehead, whispering a quick goodbye even though she knew his sleep-ridden brain wouldn’t digest any of it.  

The door was open and she was out in the hallway the moment Namjoon was close enough, her movements quick and shaky. His dimples greeted her, welcoming silently to follow him. With hushed voices and a soft tread, they floated down the stairs and out the front door, and she wrapped her arms around her middle at the first midnight breeze. It kissed at her skin scraped up goosebumps with its teeth, mocking her dizzied rush that left her air-headed enough to remember to put on warm pants but not toss anything over her t-shirt. Thankfully Namjoon stood close enough for his oversized hoodie to brush against the skin of her arms–at least one of them had dressed appropriately.  

Yellow light beckoned her closer to the safe heaven she craved. String lights glittering like stars through the foggy glass and shining brightly through the glass panels of the extravagant second floor. She couldn't remember the last time she had come here with the intention of just getting lost in the swirling iron bars of her embrace without the pressure of having to run.  

“Watch your step, I knocked the broom over on my way out,” Namjoon ushered her through the door, holding it open for her and closing it behind himself.   

The front room was a wreck. Tools discarded in piles over the table, the towering shelves of jarred herbs blanketed in a coat of dust and dirt debris, the floors streaked with half swept up boot prints and mud.  

Y/n scoffed at the sight, hands planting down on her hips with. “I guess the guys they hired for the summer really didn’t care to keep up with our organization, huh?”  

“Nope.” Namjoon sighed. “They didn’t care to take out any of their trash either. Be wary of the back room, I had to lug out bags full of cuttings and dead plants that were starting to breakdown. It smells like shit back there.”  

Y/n shook her head in disbelief, snatching up a pair of stained gloves and strapping them on. “Welp, you did promise I’d get my hands dirty. So let’s get shit back in order.”  

 They moved like a well oiled machine to the backtrack of one of Namjoon’s  playlists and his hoodie long discarded, scrubbing away their boot prints, and disinfecting the tools to slot back into her carefully hung and labeled containers (really, she made it so easy for them to keep things tidy–the high school students do a better job at it than these freelance adults). Some of the plants were in need of some TLC, their leaves droopy or spotted, and the windows needed a good clean. They finished off their work with tacky skin caked in loose dirt freshly washed in the back sink with a shared bar of soap, and two steaming mugs of tea. It was probably nearing four thirty by the time they clinked their mugs together and settled onto the wooden seats in the front room, basking in the inviting glow of the lights and the freshly cleaned space.  

Namjoon took an exaggerated sip of his tea, smiling at the taste. “You know, I think this was one of the best things you had ever done to this space.”  

“What? Saved it from your disorganized chaos? I do that every day we are here.”  

“No,” Namjoon chuckled, nodding to the small “coffee” bar she had parked in the office room behind her and stocked with an electric kettle and her mugs from college she didn’t have a use for. “That.”  

“What can I say? I wanted your tea, and I didn’t want to have to brave the house to get it. It was a win-win.” The two shared another laugh that died out into the quiet ambience of the night, hands soaking in the warmth from the mugs that waged war against the chilly night air that waltzed in from the door they had propped open once the humidity had gotten to them an hour into cleaning.  

Namjoon made a noise of concern around his drink, rushing to set his mug down. “Are you cold?”  

“A little,” Y/n admitted. He was up in an instant, guiding the door closed and swiping his cream-colored hoodie from where he discarded it in the chair. “Here, you can borrow this.”  

Y/n dithered between letting him wear it and diving right into the plush fabric, though the latter won with its enticing soft interior. And without thinking, she shrugged off her dirty t-shirt and pulled the hoodie over to replace it.  

Namjoon snickered. “I like the frogs.”  

“What?” Y/n looked to him owlishly. “Oh, this?” Then she looked down, tugging at the strap of her soft bralette made with fabric that was freckled with cute little frogs and held it up for him to see. “Thanks, it’s top of the line stuff.”  

“Oh I can tell. It’s probably designer.”  

“It is, you just wouldn’t know because you don’t have taste.”  

“I said I liked it!” Namjoon held his hands up in defense.  

“Yeah, with sass.”  She rebutted.  

Namjoon grinned down into his mug, hands tapping on the tops of his sweats, the low volume of his speaker nurturing the softness of the atmosphere. God, she missed this part of being home. Though when she was with him, even the ricketiest shack could tell her it was a mansion and she’d believe it.  

“Uh,” Namjoon scratched at his nose, his smile melting down just a smidge as he dropped  his hands back on the table. “I don’t...I don’t think I’m going to go with you guys to Texas.”  

“Oh,” Y/n’s shoulders curled inwards, her voice growing small.  

“It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just that I have so much to do here. I have to pick and choose when I leave.” He looked up to her, his eyes a comforting brown that made her heart flutter. “I’ll think about the next field trip though.”  

“You better.” Y/n shimmied in her seat, unintentionally bringing their chairs closer. “If I remember correctly, you still owe me a trip to longwood.”  

“Right. I guess I do.” Namjoon looked off towards the main part of the green house. “Julia Ceaser is still there, thank god. I was worried one of them would have crushed her.”  

“Nah, she would have fought those bitches off. She’s tough.”  

Namjoon grin came back, this one golden like honey and just as sweet and made just for her. “Yeah, she is.”  

Her laugh faltered, and she bit her lip to keep her lips from curling higher like an enamored idiot. The pull to him was magnetic, but not demanding. It was like the pull one feels when they turn onto their street after a late night out with friends, instincts guiding them right to where the porch light is waiting up for them.  

She found herself leaning closer to him, falling into the gravitational pull she couldn’t fight.  

“Y/n–wait.”  

She froze, eyes whipping open as shame started to drain her of warmth. She leant back in her chair, going as far as to scooch it further away from him. Fuck, had she misread the signals? “Joon, I’m so sorry. I thought-I don’t know what I thought. I shouldn’t have assumed-”  

“No you’re fine!” Namjoon held his hands out like he was calming a frightened deer, though he looked more like a deer caught in the headlights himself. “I just want to tell you something before we do anything you might regret.”  

Y/n cocked her head to the side, uncertain. “I wouldn’t regret...I wouldn’t regret kissing you, Joon.”  

He cleared his throat, eyes darting around the room. “It’s not what’s happening right now that I’m worried you’ll regret...”  

She blinked at him, holding the space for him to explain further. When he started to grow restless, leg unable to fight the right perch on the neighboring chair and his hands clasped over his knees she laid a hand over one of them. “Hey, we don’t judge each other, remember?”  

“Right.” He swallowed his nerves and looked up to her earnestly. “I’m not...I’m not normal sometimes either.”  

“Joon, normal is subjective. You of all people should know that.”  

He rolled his eyes if only slightly. “Okay, let me rephrase that–the way I experience love is sometimes...different.”   

“Ooookay...” Y/n moved her mug of tea to the side so she could grab for his hands, holding them on the table between them. “How so?”  

“Sometimes I like it. This. Holding hands, kissing, cuddling. Sometimes I don’t particularly care for it, and really like just hanging out with you. I still...care about you. And when I like it I really like it. It’s just different. It can last a couple of days, to maybe a couple of months. It’s always fluid. It might be different with you since we are so close already, but I just want to lay that all out in the open before you agree to something you aren’t interested in.” He exhaled the breath he was holding, his shoulders visibly lighter.  

Y/n scooted her chair closer to him, their knees slotting together. “Joon, I want to be with you because it’s you. Whether that means I kiss you every day or we spend hours playing chess or reading books to each other. Love–if that's what you want to call it–has no rules to how you show it. It’s whatever you want it to look like. And hey, if you never want to touch me that’s fine too. I just want to spend my life with you in it.”  

Namjoon beamed at her, shaking his head with a boisterous laugh. “No, sex is different. I know it sounds weird, but that stuff is different than general romance. It’s just easier to ask me where I am on any given day honestly.”  

“Ah okay,” She laughed too, feeling giddy with nerves like they were two schoolchildren hiding behind the bleachers. “So...how are you feeling today?”  

He gave a shy shrug. “You were definitely reading the right signals before.”  

She leaned closer, and he met her halfway. The kiss was timid at first, a tender exploration of something new. Yn slid her wrists up to drape over the nape of his neck, pulling back for just a moment. “Is this okay?”  

“Very much okay.” He dove back in, silencing her giggles with a slow-moving draw of his mouth over hers, hands playing over her waist to bring her closer. The early morning rain started to drizzle down on the window panes, the tapping of it a standing ovation for such an intimate show of utterly sweet belonging.  

_________________________________________ 

“Make the letters just a bit smaller-” Annelise bent lower over the table, her glasses slipping down the bridge of her nose, “-that’s it, there you go!”  

Adelaide’s fingers wrapped around the thin wooden pencil like the legs of a spider, the tips bending back with how much force she used. Annelise moved in to correct it, guiding her hand into the proper positioning.  

The little girl paused, reading the next question on her paper with furrowed brows. “I don’t understand.” Her accent was heavy, weighing down the center of her words and tilting the ends upwards. Something she had picked up from her father, and his father too.  

“The question, or the words, dear?” Annelise asked, leaning her weight on her hand while the other absent-mindedly rubbed soothing circles on her swollen belly.  

“The question,” Adelaide groaned, head falling down onto the table in defeat.  

Annelise hummed to herself, sliding the paper in between them to get a better look at it, then she scoffed, the action fused with mirth more than anything mean. “I think you know the answer, Kleine. Here...” Annelise read the question aloud, following the path of it with the tip of her finger for Adelaide to read along, which she did so. “You just need to choose which of these are verbs and which of them are nouns. It is what we were just doing this morning.”  

“Can you help me with the first one?” Adelaide looked up to her with big, begging eyes.  

The woman tutted to herself, relenting. “Oh, alright. Just the first one then.”  

Annelise ended up helping her with three before the young girl’s brothers came barreling back into the room, the body of a dead squirrel hanging down from the eldest’s fists.  

“Look what I caught today with Vater!” Ernst swung the creature by the tail like a pendulum and Adelaide scrunched her face in disgust.  

“That is foul!” She smacked a hand over her nose.  

Freidrich laughed at her disgust, unbottoning his coat and letting it fall to the floor next to Ernst’s. “Only you seem to think so, because you’re a baby.”  

“You can’t call her a baby, you’re the one that made me kill it!” Ernst knocked his brother off-balance with a shove. To which the younger retaliated by making a grab for his ear, yanking until his head jerked downwards. 

“Boys! Don't torment your sister!” Their father rounded the corner, kicking off his hunting boots and lining them near the door. “You both did quite enough of that this morning.” The boys started shoving each other in a race to the kitchen to show off their prize to the chef, leaving mud and grass smeared in their wake. Hadwin entered after her father, his face brightening like the sun emerging from behind a rather large cloud upon seeing his wife, shrugging off his own coat and barely hanging it on the hook before sweeping her into his arms.  

“Yuck!” Adelaide covered her eyes with her palms to block out the sight of their kiss, her father leaning over to ruffle her hair.  

“One day you’ll find something as precious as that, I promise you.”  

“Not if I can help it,” Adelaide huffed, arms crossed. “I do not wish to be married.”  

Her father merely laughed off her disgruntlement, patting the top of his head in a condescending manner. “You will change your mind one day. I’m sure of it.” 

“I am not sure of it!” She continued, digging her heels in further. “I want to go hunting too! I want to go to big parties and dance like my brothers!”  

“Hunting?” Ernst came back in having lost his brother in the maze of the halls, out of breath and jeering, the squirrel still hanging from his fist. “You can’t do that! You can’t even handle this squirrel.”  

Adelaide’s lip jutted out. “I can too!”  

“Really? Prove it.” Ernst held the mangled creature up to her face, and for a moment Adelaide thought she might hurl. It smelt rancid and looked none the better. But she steeled herself, and while glowering straight at her brother she pinched the tail between two fingers, before gripping in her fist and using it like one would a baseball bat, swinging it right into his head.  

Ernst screamed, and Adelaide burst into a devious shriek of laughter. Hadwin whisked Annelise away from them, fretting about her health while being so close to something dead, and their father ducked under Adelaide’s next swing and lifted her straight into the air.  

“That’s enough of that, you two, before your mother gets involved!” He wriggled the squirrel free from her grasp and carted her off towards the office. “No more nonsense from you. Come, read to me and show me what you have learned today.”  

Unfortunately for Adelaide, her mother did hear about the squirrel incident, and so she was forbidden from singing during their evening playing. Forced to sit and listen while her father and uncle slid feathery bows across wooden stringed instruments while the fire blazed on in the hearth. The silver lining of that evening was that she got to spend it curled up between Annelise and her grandmother, saved from her mother’s overbearing touch that was lavished upon her brothers instead, bathing them in warm comforting presses of her hands along their small backs and sweet kisses to the crown of their heads. That was until the music ended. Her luck died with the last note, her freedom revoked by a stiff tug up the stairs to her room, her mother’s purposeful strides always just a step too fast for Adelaide to keep up. 

“What you did to him was entirely unacceptable. You must ask for forgiveness.” Johanna busked about her room, pulling out her outfit for the next day and laying it across her bed. She then waited, arms crossed and lips twisted into a frown. “Go on then, apologize.”  

Adelaide clasped her hands together with a sigh, knees digging into the wooden floor, prayers tumbling out in a reluctant mumble. “Let us pray lord-”  

“Louder.” Johanna snapped. “And speak clearly child, or else I will strike you.”  

“-that you may grant me forgiveness.” Adelaide articulated her words with more care, head lowered in obedience. “Earlier this day I hit my...brother with a...” It was quite difficult not to laugh at the memory. The image of her brother’s face just as the squirrel had hit it ingrained deep in her subconscious. 

Johanna stomped over to her daughter, gripping her hands and lifting them higher into the air, and pushing her knees lower. “This is not a laughing matter! He will remember when you act this way before him. Believe me, he will.”  

Adelaide cowered back from her mother, all humor lost from her voice. Instead, it grew shaky and uncertain. When her mother threatened to punish her, it was never without a promise. “I hit him with a squirrel today, and I know now that what I did was wrong. I ask for your forgiveness, father, and pray that you will keep us all safe tonight and forever. Amen.” Adelaide waited for her mother’s approval, which came as a short affirming grunt, and only then did she climb into her bed and pull the covers up to her chin.  

“Goodnight, Mutter,” Adelaide whispered to her.  

“Goodnight,” Came her clipped reply, and then she was gone. Sweeping herself into both of her brothers' room down the hall, where she could hear her shower them with loving kisses and motherly devotions, each one making her feel smaller, and more alone in her own bed.  

The Night trickled onwards, and she struggled to keep her eyes closed. Plagued by the face of the poor squirrel she had desecrated and wielded like a weapon. She would never admit it, but it did actually frighten her, its beady black eyes and opened mouth. The wound in it’s middle streaked with dried tears of weeping blood staining her thoughts.  

It haunted her throughout the night, making her brain trick itself into thinking she could hear the creature running across the ceiling and scuttling through the walls. Using its claws to rip and scratch at the pipes along the other side of the wallpaper. The moon was full, sending sweeping beams to light up her room, illuminating the windowsill and the floorboards beside her.  

It was then with an awful lurch of her stomach that she saw what she wished she hadn’t–The mangled body of the same squirrel she had used, crawling helplessly across the floor, teeth gnashing at the air and nails scraping the wood. Their eyes were black as coal and just as bulbous, the surface of them thin and tremulous, like two balloons ready to pop with the mere force of the wind. And as though it could sense her looking down at it, its head twisted round to snarl at her like a beast, front arms dragging its torso closer to her bed.  

Adelaide screamed–screamed so loud her throat felt as though it might bleed, and made her own ears ring with the echoes of it. When her aunt Annelise and her Uncle Hadwin came to her aide, the door thrown open and their faces ablaze with terror–the creature vanished.  

But Adelaide couldn’t stop screaming. It felt too real. It looked too real.  

And she could still hear its claws scratching across the floor, ripping along the wallpaper and scuttering over the pipes.  

_________________________________________ 

Chapter Text

Everything felt fuzzy, from the prickling sensations across her skin to the thick cloud of fog that lingered over Y/n’s brain. Movement felt impossible, weighed down by sleep and the strange dream she was being pulled out of. Scratching out like the soothing etch of pen on old parchment was an equally drowsy beat of music, each note adrift waves that laved over a limping bassline, working in tandem to keep her eyes heavy.  

It grew louder, as did the smell of cinnamon and brown sugar, her curiosity winning the battle against her want to block out the world with a grumble and the press of a pillow to her face. 

 Wait–She hadn’t fallen asleep anywhere near a pillow.  

Y/n wrenched her eyes open, squinting around the haze of this dreamland and washing it away with a thick swallow. The room she definitely didn’t fall asleep in was draped in burgundy and smelt of old wood and cinnamon pastries. To her left, she noted a figure tapping lazily along with the music, long legs taking up the minimal amount of space between their desk and the bed she was laying on.  

“Sorry if this comes across as creepy. I didn’t just want to just shove you on the floor...” Taehyung sent her an apologetic look, his fingers still steady in their motions.  

Y/n rose from his bed, legs dangling off the side as she glanced around the low-lit space. “It’s definitely not the creepiest dream interaction I’ve had. There aren’t any demon children or haunted lakes in this one, are there?”  

Taehyung laughed, a warm rumble from his chest. “No, not here.” He stiffened marginally, shifting his eyes towards the door. “Not that I’m aware of anyways.”  

She twisted around to look at him fully, tilting her head in question. “Is this some kind of...meeting or what?”  

“Nah, nothing fancy or important.” Taehyung waved his hand through the air as though shooting down her question, standing up with a stretch of his arms overhead. “More like a midnight rendezvous if you will. With you leaving tomorrow I wanted to try out ways to spend some quality time away from it all, just the two of us.”  

She let the ghost of a smirk pass over her features. “Careful, pretty boy. The way you said that makes it sound like a date.”  

His eyes lit up with the spark of an offered challenge; his grin stretched wider. “Do you want it to be?”  

“I didn’t say that,” she scoffed, averting her eyes to the flickering candle on his dresser to hide her flustered state.  

He hummed, giving her a very slow and deliberate once over. “Of course you didn’t. But that cute, flustered look on your face did.”  

Oh lord, she was about to dig herself into a hole if she didn’t start to claw for her own footing. She swallowed down the heartbeat in her throat and put on the face of feigned confidence. “But you didn’t ask me on this ‘date’, now did you? Didn’t your mother teach you how to be a gentleman and ask for what you want?”  

“She did,” One of his brows quivered upwards. “But I wasn’t the one that said this was a date. You did.” He leant down, bringing their faces closer together while his voice dipped dangerously low. “It looks like you wanted this to be a date. So why don’t you take your own advice and ask for what you want?”  

Y/n floundered for a moment, open-mouthed and unmoving. Heat radiating off her face like she was battling a high fever. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She shakily replied. Time moved slowly, the minimal amount of space between them taking her breath away.  

Taehyung’s demeanor quickly changed, swapping out his confident air for one much more casual and laid-back. “Can I sit with you?”  

“It’s your bed...” She cleared her throat with a shrug. Even after these months of knowing him, his ability to wear the face of a seductive god and a sweet dork interchangeably was something she still struggled to keep up with.  

He plopped down next to her with a sigh, letting his head tip back with eyes closed to listen to the soft lull of Billie Holiday’s voice blanketing the atmosphere with warmth. One of his arms was stretched behind them, close enough for her to lean against if she wanted to, and she almost let herself if she wasn’t so determined to not give into his magnetic pull. Taehyung jolted in his seat as though remembering something, a wide grin taking up his features.  

“Watch this,” he directed, waving one of his hands in the air with a playful level of mystery, the other tucking behind his back. “Ta-da!” When his hand came back around, it brandished stalks of purple flowers and delicate greenery that spilled over his knuckles until his skin was barely visible.  

Y/n gingerly accepted the gift, a weak laugh escaping with her amazement. “Tae, they’re gorgeous. How did you...?”  

“I’ve been practicing this dream stuff.” He shrugged, nonchalant and only a bit smug. “I’m like a magician here or something.”  

The petals felt soft and real when pinched between her fingertips, wafting their intoxicating perfume up into her senses. Everything felt real here, the plush of his comforter, the smell of his candle, the aged static from the record–as though she was really here in his room with him.  

She eyed him from the side, the moment all the sudden feeling quite intimate and enclosed. Their own little world away from the real one. Just for them.  

“You’re making it really hard not to think of this as a date...” She spared him a shy look through her lashes, fingers still fiddling with the florals.   

“I never said it wasn’t,” Taehyung uttered through a whisper.  

Their eyes met, and his pull felt stronger, rich like the plucked strings of a bassline that walked her closer to his capture. A collision that sizzled with heat.  

“I guess I should ask you properly,” Taehyung broke the trance she was in so easily. “What would you say to another midnight rendezvous, just you and me. You pick the place.”  

Y/n shook herself of his hold on her. “I’d say...I’d say that sounds great. What do you say we go dancing? Or is that too difficult for you to conjure?” 

 “You wound my pride,” Taehyung clutched his chest as though offended. “That’s my specialty.”  

“Just making sure!” She giggled, hugging the flowers closer to her chest. “Make sure to give me something cool to wear! Or do I have to show up in my pajamas to this elaborate ball you’re planning to create?”  

“Elaborate ball?” He clicked his tongue in thought. “I was thinking of something smaller. Something warmer and more familiar.” His fingertips danced over her wrist, moving a delicate path up her arm. “Something more...intimate.”  

She gulped, willing herself not to melt into a puddle on his bed right there and then. “Th-that sounds great. But that doesn’t really answer my-” 

“Y/n, wake up. You're freezing.” Namjoon sounded just as groggy as you felt, shaking one of her shoulders without much force.  

Y/n lifted her cheek from where it was smushed against her forearm, blinking the sleep away so she could get a grasp on where they were. The greenhouse string lights still glittered overhead, and the overcast sky gave everything a timeless, yet dreary look. Stretching her arms overhead to loosen her muscles up from the cramped position, she grumbled out to him “What time is it?”  

“Almost eleven. Don’t you need to pack?”  

“For...?” Y/n trailed off, still not fully present.  

It was his turn to stare at you now, looking equally as lost. “Texas...?”  

“Shit!” She stood so suddenly her knee knocked right off the table, scrambling over to the door only to realize she was still wearing Namjoon’s hoodie when the cream sleeve rolled down again. “Wait your-” 

“Keep it for now. I have more and you’re already running behind.” His dimples pressed little divots into his cheeks. “You should probably hurry, the group chat is already in shambles with you running behind.”  

“When is it not,” Y/n snorted, making the move to leave then stopping again, rushing back over to his side to wrap him in her arms and squeeze him with all she had, her words muffled. “I’m gonna miss you. You stay safe, you hear me?”  

“Right back at you,” Namjoon whispered, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of her head.  

 Y/n cursed under her breath as she took the path back to the estate at a full speed, knowing she wasn’t going to hear the end of it from Yoongi or Jungkook if she was the reason they missed their flights this evening. Too busy berating herself, she missed the figure already trailing down to the greenhouse, colliding straight into them.  

“Jesus fucking Christ, are you trying to take me out?” Yoongi hissed as he grabbed for his shoulder, the other hand snatching up her forearm to pull her to a full stop. Speak of the devil and he shall appear. “Figured you’d be holed up out here. Jungkook already started packing your bag.”  

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to fall asleep I just wasn’t-”  

Yoongi held a hand up. “I’m not mad–though maybe I should be because what on earth are you doing scurrying around alone? Are you trying to bait it after we all agreed to lay low?” He moved so quickly she couldn’t register it, two fingers flicking her forehead with just enough force to feel, but not enough to really hurt.  

Now she was the one rubbing soothing circles to herself, wincing. “Shit. I didn’t even think I just left...”  

“Huh, surprise surprise. The menace being a fucking menace. Next thing you’re going to tell me is that the sky is blue.”  

“Oh shut it. You were here so it’s fine.” She changed directions, trading sarcasm for flattery to lessen the blow, because it was very much not fine. Fluttering her lashes up to him she smiled, saccharine and teasing. “And it’s just so lovely to see you today. So deviously handsome, reliable, and what was the other word you used before...chivalrous?”  

Yoongi raised a brow at her, tongue running over the inside of his cheek. “Nice try, sweetheart but I’m not letting you off easy. I said devilishly handsome. Just goes to show how much you don’t listen to me...” He tsked, starting up the path.  

“I listen to you!” Y/n denied, riddled with indignation. 

“Sure you do.”  

“I do!” She cried, falling into step with him.  

“Oh yeah, name one time?”  

Her mouth hung open as the confidence slowly drained from her face. “Uh....The hermit crabs?”  

“Not the fucking hermit crabs again I swear to god.” He held his index finger up with a huff. “One time! One time I humor your weird little brain creations and that’s all you remember from my lessons. Typical.”  

“It was more than one time. I just can’t recall the rest of them at this moment. You know, running on little sleep and all that shit.”  

“You wanna prove you can listen?” He held the front door open for her to enter. “Then run along and pack your bags so we aren’t late. If you’re not ready when I come to get you, I’m leaving you in Pennsylvania and using this trip to gorge myself on barbecue, tameles, and some much needed alone time.” 

“Please,” Y/n brushed past him into the foyer, waving up to Jungkook who leaned over the railing of the landing, waiting. “You would miss us all too much.” 

“Doubt it,” he scoffed.   

“Especially me,” She yanked on the sleeve of his hoodie and wrapped her arms around him in a bone crushing hug, and just as expected he made a dramatic show of trying to push her off him. 

“Get off of me! Peace from you is exactly what I need!”  

Ignoring his half-hearted struggle that didn’t last very long, she fought back a triumphant grin when she could feel him almost melt into it, his hands no longer able to decide whether they were keeping her close or supposed to push her away. And just as he got comfortable, almost committing to the embrace–she snuck her freezing cold palms up to the back of his neck and pressed them to the radiating warmth, and this time he gave her a real shout of surprise and a shove just stiff enough to get her hands off him.  

“You just wanted me for my warmth, you little leech!” Yoongi visibly shivered, his own hands coming up to slap at the back of his neck. “And here I thought you were finally being nice for once.”   

“What, am I not allowed to show my love and just so happen to have really cold hands?” Y/n giggled, scurrying away from his wrath and stopping on the first step to look back at him. While to her, she didn’t say anything profound or out of the ordinary by any means, but something as to what she said must have caught him off guard. Yoongi flushed immediately, an endearing pink color clinging to his neck and cheeks, and he looked like he had tasted something sour as he averted his eyes. His front started to dissolve beneath the heat, his voice cracking as it strained to keep up with the playful banter from before.  

“Y-yeah whatever. Get moving before I leave your ass in the dust.” 

Something must have been in the water that morning, be it the thrill of the upcoming travel, or the lingering warmth in her face and chest whenever she thought of Namjoon or stared too long at the sleeves of her hoodie. But whatever it was, it made her giddy as she skipped up the stairs, and wrought with affection that she couldn’t wait to unleash upon Jungkook the moment the door to her room closed. Remembering her mother's words, they tried to keep the PDA to a minimum in the halls, reverting back to whatever behavior kept the spirits off their backs before the major...incident.  

Nothing stopped her from latching onto him the second her door had closed, nearly knocking him off his feet in the process. It definitely had nothing to do with the fact that she was still damp and chilled to the bone from sleeping outside and he was so enticingly warm...nope. Not one bit. 

“You’re clingy today,” He observed, hands running soothing paths down her shoulder blades. His brows furrowed upon the brush of her nose to his neck. “...and cold.” He held her to his front and looked pointedly down at her with his lips pressed in a line, like she was a puzzle he had already solved. “You slept outside.”  

“Clingy, yes. Cold, double yes. Outside? Perhaps. But you’ll never prove it.” Y/n mumbled into the fabric of his sweatshirt, burrowing further into him until he laughed, face scrunching up and eyes alight.  

“I could sense where you were.” He stated matter-a-factly–dare she say, a bit smug. “You could’ve gotten sick, dummy.”  

“Dummy? Are you sure you’re talking to the right person?”  

He nodded, fingers begging to play absentmindedly with the back of Namjoon’s hoodie. “Mmhmm. Very.”  

Y/n couldn’t help but grin, the softness to his voice counteracting the words coming from his mouth. “You finally come up with a pet name for me and it’s something only you could possibly make sound endearing.”  

“Why do you need a pet name? You’re not my pet. And I like your name.”  

“Because it’s cute, y’know? Something special between us.”  

Jungkook’s blunt demeanor had won, because without missing a beat he answered: “Dummy is special. You’re my special dummy.”  

“Wow, definitely makes me feel special and flattered.”  Y/n deadpanned.  

Jungkook’s small smile grew. “You slept outside. Only dummies do that when it’s cold.”  

“You’ve been spending too much time with Yoongi,” She grumbled with a shake of her head gripping him tighter to siphon the warmth from him (not that he complained). “Now you’re sentenced to keeping me warm while I pack. If you go too far away I’ll cry, I mean it.”  

His expression faltered, melting into mild uncertainty. “Why? Did something happen?”  

“No, I was just joking,” She propped her chin on his chest to look at him, her playful smile going soft and gooey upon looking at his face. The soft curve of his cheeks, the rounded nose–she paused there, leaning forward to peck the tip of it. “Now look who the dummy is.”  

Jungkook rolled his eyes, but didn’t push her off of him. Actually, he did quite the opposite. He kept her wound around his middle with her head pressed into his back while he shuffled the two of them around her room, holding clothes up to her to approve of before he folded them neatly into her suitcase.  

His steady, quiet presence was always so soothing to her otherwise chaotic one. The thump of his heartbeat through his back lulling her eyes closed, her previously peppy step slowing to an uncoordinated stumble that trailed behind his every move, arms still locked around him. She never wanted to let him go, her brain conjuring up a million reasons why she should just fall onto the mattress and pull him down with her. And of course, he had probably sensed how tired she was under it all. His eyes could probably see it written all over her skin and face. Another one of his ploys to force her to take care of herself.  

She looked up to him in adoration, like the hands that were busy organizing her favorite pairs of socks had hung the stars in the sky. It was in the quiet moments like this that she was reminded of just how grateful she truly was for him.  

“You can keep calling me dummy if it means I get to spend the rest of my life with you in it,” she suddenly remarked, fatigue from lack of sleep making her lips loose and her voice weak.  

The shorts he was folding hovered in the air, his gears turning to respond to her sudden sappy turn. After a few breaths he leant forward to tuck them into the suitcase and started on the stack of thin tank tops and t-shirts.  

“I’ll always be here, as long as you’ll let me.”  

“Don’t say it like that,” Y/n chided.  

“Like what?”  

“Like I wouldn’t want you in it. There’s never been a future for me without you in it. I’m not ‘letting’ you. I’m grabbing you by the face and telling you that I want you and I need you. You’re stuck with me, sorry not sorry.”  

He let out a humored exhale that almost drowned out the spike in his heart rate. “Then you’re stuck with me, too.”  

“Perfect. Looks like we’ve come to an agreement then.”  

The last of her clothes were nestled together, zipped up and placed outside her door for when they were ready to load the cars up. Y/n only let go long enough to trail after him to his room, then took up the same position while he meticulously organized his clothes, watching him expertly fold each item into piles. She had offered to help him, but he had shot her down with one blank look from over his shoulder, guiding her hands back around his middle without so much as a word. He left no room for arguments.  

There were no words exchanged for quite some time, her minutes spent listening to his breathing and the muffled voices of Hoseok and Jin out in the hall, followed by the coming and going of their luggage.  When left to their own thoughts for too long, she noticed his heart rate start to steadily increase, hammering wildly in his chest. Instead of prodding, she let him lead the way, keeping her eyes open and her fingertips drawing gentle shapes over his middle as a constant reminder that she was listening. That she was there.  

 “My dad talked to me this morning.” His tone was flat, but something at the end of it wobbled with nerves.  

“And?”  

Jungkook sniffed, gingerly lifting the pile of t-shirts into his bag. “He was just asking me questions I didn’t have any answers to.”  

 Y/n narrowed in on every minute detail of his expression. Something about this discussion was causing him to shut down internally, and she didn’t like it. Had she said something last night to push his father away? Was this another ploy by the parents to drive a wedge between them? 

“What was the question?”  

Jungkook stopped packing, distracting himself by playing with the threads of his hoodie. “I guess he was just curious. About us. ”  

Everything about his body language had given him away even though his expression remained neutral. His accelerated pulse, his fidgeting hands, the way his nose kept twitching. He was scared. But of what exactly she couldn’t pinpoint. Her response to whatever the discussion was about?  

As though reading her mind and the twisted grimace she was wearing as she thought, he backtracked. “Nevermind.   It’s not important right now.”  

Y/n let out the whirling contents of her mind in one slow breath, moving one of the hands at his stomach to intertwine with his. "Are you sure? You seem pretty bothered by it.”  

Jungkook shrugged. Offhanded and noncommittal, another sign that his body was physically reacting to having to hold in his honest thoughts.  

“Well,” She moved to lower herself down onto the bed, using their intertwined hands to tug him closer and land a kiss to the inside of his wrist. “Whenever you are ready, I’m here, and I’m listening. No need to force it out if you’re still not ready to talk about it. I’ll be right here waiting for you when you are.”  

His stare landed deep, like he was looking through each and every piece of her and turning them over like stones, his search tender and laced with fondness. “I love you.”  

“I love you too,” Y/n answered without a second thought.  

“And I love being on time.” Yoongi pushed open Jungkook’s bedroom door with the flat of his palm, the other shielding his eyes from whatever sight he thought he might walk into. “Get a move on, lovebirds. We need to be on the road yesterday.”  

Y/n scoffed as Jungkook moved to finish his task. “No need to avert your eyes, no funny business is going on in here.”  

“Not taking any chances, I’ve been burned before.”  

_________________________________________ 

Even though his attitude seemed a bit rough around the edges, Yoongi offered to carry her suitcase down for her to the front where Jin and Hoseok were already convening. Dread sloshed in Y/n’s empty stomach when she noticed Misuk fretting over her son, lingering by the doorway with her arms crossed over one another.  

When she noticed Y/n descending the stairs, her fingers shot up to play with her necklace, taking on a more unreadable and standoffish air about her.  

“Text me when you get to the airport. I want regular updates. I better get notified the second you land, and when you arrive at the ranch. I don’t care how late it is.”  

Hoseok brushed off her concerns with a grimace, pushing away the hands that tried to push his beanie further down his head. “Yeah Ma, I heard you the first ten times.”  

“I’ll make sure he does it, ma’am.” Jin smiled sweetly at her, giving her a small bow.  

Jungkook and Yoongi filed past her, each one of them yanked into one of her bone-crushing hugs before they were able to escape through the door. “That goes for all of you,” she clicked her tongue at their exit, and Y/n kept her head down as she approached, keeping to herself. Their last interaction left her unsure where they stood as of late.  

She attempted to slip past her behind Jin unnoticed, but her mission failed with the curl of Misuk’s small hand around her wrist. “Y/n, a moment please.” the woman stepped out onto the porch with her, closing the front door behind them.  

“Look I know what you said–and I’m sorry I couldn’t stay away-”  

Misuk pulled Y/n into her arms, holding her tight just like she used to when she was much smaller. It took a few beats of shock for her to realize that Misuk was trembling, her breath released in shaky exhales.  

“You saved him that day,” Y/n had never heard her sound so frail. “And I could never thank you enough.”  

A ball started to form in the back of her throat, fighting for a way out as she returned the embrace. “I had to. There was no way I would have let anything happen to him.”  

“Please keep an eye on him, he’s not taking care of himself like he should. He keeps pushing himself too far and I’m beginning to worry.”  

“I will,” Y/n promised. Once released, she started down the stairs, stopped by her voice yet again.  

“And Y/n?”  

“Yes?” She looked up at her from the bottom of the stairs, one foot on the gravel and the other on stone.  

“Let me know if there’s anything I can do, we are more than happy to help.”  

Y/n’s face pinched together with concern. “That’s really not necessary, Ma. There’s...things holding us back from that. Don’t put yourself or anyone else in danger because of me.”  

“I don’t care.” Misuk shook her head once, resolute and stern as she whispered. “I never agreed to any rules. In my opinion, those rules were broken the moment they decided to push my son off that catwalk.”  

Fire burned in Y/n’s belly at Misuk’s determination. Raging with a passion that licked and burned up her middle and into her throat, it’s smoke saturating her breath and stinging her skin with hope.  

“I’ll text you with a couple of ideas when I have a minute,” Y/n swallowed down the urge to just grin with pride. To laugh with glee. To leap from the ground in triumph over whatever son of a bitch thought he could keep them all apart from each other. “For the wedding I mean.”  

“Good,” Misuk straightened up, a mirror image of what Y/n was feeling reflecting back at her through her eyes. “I’ll be waiting for it.”  

The sole of her sneaker kicked off the bottom step, sending a jolt of electricity up her spine the moment she lost contact with the house, sucking the breath right out of her. It tickled beneath her skin and her scalp, and set the hair on her arms upright, crawling all over her like a hoard of spiders that bored into her skin. The voices of her friends faded into the background, their bickering over the right way to lay the baggage in the trunk drowned out by the overpowering ring that reverberated in her eardrums.  

If she hadn’t known any better, it was almost what she expected it to feel like before one was to be struck by lightning.  

Misuk had already disappeared back inside the foyer, leaving her to stare dazed back up at the front door, body buzzing with the aftershocks. It reminded her of the first time she had found Bear.  

“Hey, you in there?” Hoseok tried to get her attention with a hand in front of her face.  

Y/n shook herself from whatever spell she was under, ripping her attention from the door to her friend. “Yeah. I’m fine.”   

Her goodbyes to Jimin were unbearably brief, rushed out between stolen kisses behind a bookshelf and whispered promises to call. Her heart ached to leave any of them behind here, but she knew there was no other choice. Adelaide was leading her to Texas, so hopefully whatever they were being sent to find could help them end, and this fear would be left in the past for them to forget about.  

Willing any tears back into her skull, she ripped the car door open and plopped herself in the passenger seat with a hefty sigh, rubbing at both temples with her pointer fingers to ease the tension that was building. The song bumbling through the radio was much too light-hearted for her mood, but she didn’t have the energy to reach over and flick it off. 

“Let’s get out of here before I freak out about leaving.”  

Yoongi grunted, shifting the car into drive and steering them around the lot back towards the entrance. The turning signal ticked on like a metronome, the group of them waiting for a line of guests to go ahead of them.  

“Don’t worry about it too much, I’m sure everything will be fine now that there’s a safe space to turn to.” Jin tried to reassure her, and she contorted around to grace him a tight lipped smile.  

“I know it should be fine,” She faced the front again, catching his expression in the mirror. “But I wish we could be certain that- ohmyfuckinggod!” Y/n cut herself off with a scream. Instead of meeting Jin’s face, she caught the glimpse of a small child, eyes black as coal and dripping down the scored cheeks. It was Ani, someone she hadn’t seen for quite some time. 

“Fucking hell we can’t have one minute!” Yoongi swerved into the road with much less grace than he had intended, stamping his foot down on the pedal and bumping into the curb in the process. Jungkook was on her as soon as she appeared, unbuckling his seatbelt and clambering out from the back and over the middle seat to hold her down, head hitting the top of the car when they bounced over the curb. Hoseok and Jin were unlucky enough to sit next to her, leaning as far away from the little girl that was sandwiched between them as possible.  

“Get her out!” Hoseok cried, fingers clawing at the door handle.  

Jungkook grit his teeth, pressing the child down to the leather seats as she squirmed. “I’m trying...”  

“Yoongi pull over!” Jin grabbed at the back of Yoongi’s seat and squeezed until the leather cracked beneath his grip.  

“We are in the middle of the road–there are people behind me!”  

“And there’s a child in the car-” Hoseok shrieked when one of the girl’s hands smacked against his arm. “It’s touching me!”  

Yoongi hissed out a long unbroken string of curses, eyes darting from mirror to the road, looking for anywhere to pull over without getting them in a multi-car collision.  

Jin’s hand shot between them, pointing at the approaching traffic light. “There, the light is red! We can push her out the door when-”  

“-Not anymore!” Yoongi clipped back just as the light switched to green, sailing them straight through it.  

Hoseok flattened himself to the door when it wouldn’t budge. “Squish it, Kook!”  

“She’s a child.” Jungkook’s nostril’s flared, staring daggers into the other man.  

“A demonic child that smells like ass!”  

It was complete chaos, the stupid twinkling song layered over theirs and Ani’s shouts, making nothing anyone said decipherable. With one hand Yoongi white-knuckled the wheel, the other extended out to cross over Y/n’s chest to keep her from tumbling straight into the dash.  

“Hold onto your asses!” He hissed, jerking the wheel to the left, sending the car drifting right into the little ice cream shop at the bottom of the hill and coming to an abrupt stop. With the doors unlocked, Hoseok tumbled from the back seat onto the asphalt, holding the door open for Jungkook.  

“I need your help getting her out,” The youngest grunted, gesturing to Hoseok with his chin.  

Hoseok visibly paled. “Absolutely fuckin’ not, dude.”  

“I do not want to! I want to go home!” Ani wailed, kicking her feet against the back of the consol, Y/n’s seat, the ceiling of the car–anything her legs could reach.  

“Home is that way–not in the back of Jin’s SUV-” Hoseok pointed at the road they had just come from. “-go that way!”  

“No!” She clawed at Jungkook’s bicep, for he finally managed to get over the seat and land where Hoseok was. “The special home.”  

“Wait!” Y/n held up her hand, stopping Jungkook from dragging her out the open door. “What do you mean ‘special home’?”  

“The special home in Texas. That is where my sisters are. That is where I’m supposed to be too.”  

“Who are your sisters?” Jungkook asked, loosening his grip when she showed less sign of struggle.  

Ani snarled; lips curled up to reveal sharpened teeth. “I am not allowed to say. Not to you.”  

“If you tell us maybe we can help you,” Jin offered shakily.  

“I’m not allowed. He will not allow it. He makes it hurt to tell.” She pointed to her throat. “But I can show you if you take me home.”  

Y/n shared a look with Yoongi, her heartrate still through the roof from the whole ordeal and roaring in her ears, the two of them breathing heavily.  

“We can’t take her. It’s too risky.” Yoongi shook his head, struggling to catch his breath. “She could claw your eyes out any second.”  

“I will not.”  

“Wow, super trustworthy and a great conversationalist. Can we get the creepy kid out of the car now?” Hoseok butt in, and Ani retaliated by going into another fit of thrashing about, growling out like a wild animal as she did.  

Jin glared at him, his arm shooting out to block the space between the front seats and effectively blocking Ani from having any access to Y/n or Yoongi. “Not. Helping.”  

“Jungkook, get her out of the damn car. I’ll get my shit.” Yoongi unlocked his seatbelt and popped the trunk to wear all of his “equipment” was located. 

Ani shrieked out in protest, her tantrum beginning to shake the car. “No please–it burns! Please do not send me away!”  

Y/n didn’t feel like banishing her was the right choice, she clearly had valuable information. Not to mention, she was one of the hot buttons for activity, and she was right here in front of them, no summoning ceremony necessary. Time to come up with any ideas was running out, Yoongi was already elbow deep in his bags and Jungkook had finally convinced Hoseok to help maneuver her out of the car. But she held on; fists curled tightly around the metal bars of the headrest in a desperate attempt to stay in the car. 

Without thinking, Y/n slipped an arm out under Jin’s to rest over one of Ani’s, and she thought Jungkook was going to have an aneurysm just by the look on his face.  “What if I promised to summon you when we get there–would you go back to the estate and wait? Then we don’t have to banish you.” She lowered her tone, using every fiber of her being to sound about ten times more composed than she felt, offering her a hint of compassion. “It doesn’t have to burn.”  

Ani froze, clasping one hand around Y/n’s forearm and latching into the skin–without drawing any blood. “Summon...?”  

“Yes. Like call you to the special home in Texas. Would you be able to tell us who your sister’s are there?”  

The little girl blinked, her hold starting to wane. “I could try.”  

“Then go home–back where you came from. I’ll call you when we are ready, okay?” Y/n maintained eye contact, and it made her shiver–watching how her eyes moved, and the black blood fluttered beneath the skin of her cheeks. So human, yet so monstrous. “But you need to let go, okay?”  

“...Okay. It’s a deal.”  

She started to tremble, and then with great effort Ani released Y/n’s arm and the seat of the car, letting Jungkook drop her to her feet on the gravel. Her head swiveled from Jungkook to Y/n, to Hoseok and Jin as she backed away from them, looking just as frightened of them as they were of her. And then she was gone, leaving nothing but the residual buzz from her energy as though she was never there to begin with. 

An eerie silence settled over the bunch, uninterrupted by Yoongi slamming the trunk closed and jostling the car. The different levels of displeasure written over her companions' features accompanied by her own newly rising panic told her just how risky her deal had been. She had made a deal with someone on enemy lines, putting not only herself but potentially everyone else at risk. Who knows if they could even successfully summon her there–or what would happen if they couldn’t hold up their end of the bargain at all.  

Overhead the lights flickered back on, for Yoongi had ripped open the driver's door again with a huff, fishing for his phone and scrolling through his contacts. He looked worse for wear, cheeks splotchy from cold air and hair disheveled, the tips of his fingers shook as they found the person he was looking for. Her mother.  

“I’m going to have your mom get us a rental ride. I’m way too fucking frazzled to do any more driving. Not without risking our lives, anyway.”  He held the phone up to his ear, but before he could get a word out Y/n latched on to his arm, whispering to him urgently.  

“Tell her that I’m coming back to steal Ani’s dress. So we can do the thingy with it.”  

“Fat chance.” His expression soured, whispering back to her just as quick. “I’ll have someone bring it down. None of us are going anywhere and risking another ghoul encounter. Just five fuckin minutes...All I ask for is–hey, Mariah. Yeah no, we had to make an emergency stop at Cecil’s. Ran into trouble.” Yoongi cast a pointed look to Jungkook and Hoseok wiping their hands off on their jackets. “No, we handled it. But I wanted to ask you for something...”  

He jumped back down from the car and walked a few steps out, toeing down at the cracked stone with the tip of his worn-out boots. His breath left his mouth in visible puffs, the brief moment of recovery giving her time to notice how his brown jacket was starting to show signs of age; a few frayed holes and busted seams. He had never been one to buy new clothes, choosing to wear them into the ground before he did. But watching him shiver out there made her want to offer him the one she’d thrown over Namjoon’s hoodie, maybe even snatch his up and let her fingers embroider little patterns into makeshift patches. Something special just for him.  

As though he could sense her stare, he angled himself to meet it, mouth still moving into the line but he paid no mind to what was coming out of it. Sensations of running water flowed under her skin, her body responding to his prod from afar. It traveled down her arms, across her chest, and wound about the back of her neck, cool yet comforting.  

At first, she thought she was having adrenaline fueled hallucinations–the wisps of lavender smoke, pale and pretty, lingering around her vision. Yet upon further inspection, she wasn’t hallucinating at all. The color surrounded her, overpowering the massive kaleidoscope of colors that remained in the vehicle, no doubt the aftermath of what had just occurred. He continued to move within her, and the colors only grew brighter and more distinct. Looking down at her hands, the lilac color danced between her fingertips, swirled about her wrist, and hovered around her face. And when she looked up again, Yoongi was also exuding the same color–the edges lined with yellow and orange, but so overwhelmingly purple.  

It was beautiful. Breathtaking even. Choking out her senses until she thought she would start coughing up more clouds of it.  

Yoongi broke eye contact first, and the colors dissipated with it. Y/n was used to him checking in, the feeling of his presence familiar and comforting. Though this was the first time she had been able to see what he saw. Maybe her practice with Jungkook was paying off in regard to everyone else, an idea worth exploring more when they arrived at the ranch.  

The color stayed vibrant in her mind. Reminding her of a similar color seen the day before in their raid of historical society.  

She had forgotten to ask him what it meant.  

_________________________________________ 

Glasses clinked together, punctuating the indecipherable murmur of the smokey, low-lit atmosphere that blanketed the room. Scintillating gold and moody reds blurring her surroundings together into nothing but color and lights. Bodies pressed in on her from all sides, trapping her against the bar ledge which she gripped for dear life. They moved like streaks of oil paint on a canvas, blurry and hurried. Shapeless enough to keep their identities a mystery, but familiar enough to bring a sense of familiarity to them that soothed any anxiety that tried to sprout. 

A live band owned not only the main stage, but the entire restaurant, moving the crowd with its sultry command. Y/n leaned up against the bar, twisted at an angle to watch them move together, any fog that had clouded her senses lifted. She knew exactly where she was, and which bar she had leant up against.  

The Adelaide was alive, breathing in the energy of its patrons and exhaling them with the smell of red wine and whistling brass. Everything looked polished and pristine; the golden accents shinier than she remembered, and the carpet under her feet so vibrant it cast the room in ruby-tinted glow. She could recognize the music, but not the players–their faces undefined and vague.  

“What is a beautiful woman doing here all by herself?” A body slid up beside her, mimicking her position against the wooden bar top. “Can I buy you a drink?”  

Y/n bit back a smirk, regarding the man over her shoulder with feigned disinterest. “I’m not by myself, I’m waiting for someone.”  

Taehyung sighed and shook his head with overt disappointment. “Ahh I see. He’s a lucky man then.”  

“He is,” Y/n hummed, “Handsome too.”  

The laugh that came from him was subdued, but to her it felt like the only sound in the room that mattered. He motioned to the blurry faced bar tender with two fingers, and the figure flickered in and out of orbit, giving Y/n only a second to see a flash of movement before the glass was sliding straight into her hands.  

“What’s his name?” Taehyung slid onto the stool next to her. 

She eyed the unknown liquid for a moment, then held it up to her parted lips. “Which one?” She tipped her head back, the liquid burning down her throat with a warmth that bled out from her chest into her shoulders like a weighted fuzzy blanket. It was bitter and rich, balanced out with a hint of sweetness that made it just bearable enough to drink.  

“So there’s more competition than just one, huh.” Taehyung clicked his tongue against his teeth. 

“That’s where you’re wrong. You’re thinking of something that rhymes with competition....” Y/n swirled the bottom of her glass against the wood. “...Like Community or comradery.”  

“That doesn’t rhyme...like at all.” 

 She pinched her features together to hold back a giggle at her own expense, but when she met his gaze over the lip of her glass it came sputtering out, the two of them crumpling in closer with shared laughter. “It really doesn’t, I was just hoping you wouldn’t notice!”  The heat from her chest rushed to her face. “I haven’t mastered this whole flirting thing yet, I’m still practicing.”  

His boxy grin softened around the edges, the warm brown of his eyes reflecting the glowing lights back at her like stars. “It’s alright, there’s still plenty of time to practice. You’ve already made strides, considering the first time you tried you couldn’t even get a word out.”  

“That’s an exaggeration,” Y/n denied, knocking the rest of her drink back and flinching at how hard she brought it back down on the table. “I thought we were supposed to be dancing?”  

“I thought you were waiting for someone?”  

“You’re much more enjoyable.” She hopped off the stool and offered him her hand. “Would you do me the honor?”  

Taehyung’s hand was warm, guiding her expertly through the crowd to a small corner of the dance floor where he could draw her flush to him in a languid sway. From the center of the room the Adelaide felt like it closed in all sides, tipping its head down to watch them eyes aglow with mirth like it reveled in seeing people be so close. She tried to take in the room once more, the perimeter darkened with dream-like shadows and the figures still just colors in motion that held no physical substance to touch. It was difficult to pinpoint, but it looked so familiar yet so strangely off at the same time. Maybe it was the tables that were smaller around and fewer in number?  

“Is this living up to your expectations?” Taehyung tore her from her scan, the heat of his touch grounding her back to him.  

Finally comprehending what he asked, she nodded fervently, the hand on his shoulder subconsciously pulling him closer. “Absolutely. Though I would have liked to pick my own drink next time.”  

He bit his lip, shoulders bouncing in a playful shrug. “You could have. It’s as much of my dream as it is yours.” She zeroed in on the act, watching the way his teeth sunk into the flesh. She would have liked to feel them against hers... 

“Wait,” Y/n’s surprise shook herself of the thought, “You mean to tell me I might also be able to manipulate this whole dream world you’ve crafted?”  

He leant impossibly closer, lips brushing the shell of her ear that he whispered into. “Why don’t you give it a try? Pick something, focus on it, and make it do as you please.”  

Nothing quite caught her eye, no object or mysterious figure called out to her to mess with. Taehyung’s lingering presence against her cheek didn’t help her thundering heart or her ability to concentrate on anything either. That was until she landed on the band that prowled across the wooden stage, flitting from the brass section to the strings. Focusing intently on the sound each instrument made and willing the notes to change. Her brows furrowed with the concentration it took to hear the melody in her head so clearly as the music they were already playing clashed against it. She was so lost in it all, that she almost didn’t notice the moment the music changed, mimicking the song she had chosen in her mind.  

Lighting up with the realization that she had in fact done it, she whirled to face him, oozing joy. “I did it! I changed the song!”  

Taehyung’s eyes raked over her face, his own expression growing brighter as he listened . “The Drifters?”  

“The Drifters.” Y/n affirmed, sliding her palm down his shoulder to clasp his hand, spinning him around in a wide circle, the other ‘guests’ whirling out of the way as if made of smoke. Taehyung seemed delighted with her challenge of control, unable to decide between letting her lead or taking it over with a grip of the hand or flick of the wrist. As the song approached the end, he flung her in a wide arc, tugging on her wrist to drag her back to his chest, spinning the two of them around while falling into a fit of giggles.  

The room seemed to fall away from her when they face one another once more, the blinding stage lights and buzzing, golden, bulbs creating a halo of light around his head that blocked out all else. There was no space between them now, the tips of their noses ghosting around one another. She could feel it; his breath, the tilt of the music that seemed to pulse through him, their hearts knocking on the other’s ribcage as though asking for permission to enter.  

Her eyelids felt heavy, dropping lower until just a sliver of the room was left to see beyond the rogue waves of his hair and the red jacket on his shoulder. He was so close, she could almost taste- 

Movement over his shoulder made her eyes flutter open.  

One of the guests had stopped swaying with the crowed, standing straight and still against the current of movement. They had already turned away from her, slipping through bodies like water. Sentient. Different.  

Familiar. 

“Wait-”  

Her forehead collided with the glass with an audible ‘thump’, and her hand came up to rub comforting circles over the tender area. Cursing to herself, she tried to regain her surroundings, tuning into the pop music that scratched up from the speakers, the melody overpowered by the white noise of the car leading the way down the highway.  

It seemed everyone was tucked into their own devices and had thankfully missed her embarrassing collision: Jin was lost in the trenches of an audiobook that droned on, barely audible through his headphones next to her; Yoongi and Jungkook were curled up on either side of the back row, doing exactly what she had been doing before; leaving Hoseok pressed against the door in the lone seat of the rental van, looking down at the screen of his phone with an air of  solemnity she only saw him wear when he thought he was truly alone.  

Something about his attire tugged at her heartstrings, the overall cozy look to him made her nostalgic for a simpler time, bringing forth images of them wandering around the grounds when it was much too cold for them to have any business doing so at such late hours. Be it the fingerless sage mittens that left the reddened tips of his fingers free to tap idly against his screen, or the green and orange striped scarf Yoongi’s mother had knitted for him that swaddled his chin high enough for him to rest it on. Or perhaps it was the matching beanie pulled down over his freshly trimmed waves, bearing down over his ears that used to pop out of any hat he wore when they were children (Hyewon had made sure to make his hat just a tad bit longer to accommodate to them).  

The memory of him toddling about in the snow with ears bright red from the cold brought a teensy smile to her face, especially upon remembering how he so adamantly refused to wear earmuffs no matter how much he whined about the burn when forced to run in and take hot showers. All of the children had lovingly nicknamed him Rudolph for an entire winter, a nickname he wore proudly until he was ten and started to feel embarrassed whenever the yearly antler headband made its appearance for the group's family photos.  

She snickered, still able to see the image of him and that raggedy headband that was older than all of them perched atop his head, loud enough for him to look up from his phone and cast her a dubious glance. Red-tipped fingers moved furiously against his screen, tapping about a mile a minute. Then in immediate succession, her phone buzzed against her thigh.  

[Hoseok ❌💍❌]: what r u laughing at? 🤨🤨 

[Y/n]: Nothing of your concern.  

[Y/n]: But it might have to do with someone named Rudolph and a pair of  D U S T Y ol’ antlers. 

[Hoseok ❌💍❌]: 🙄🙄🙄 

[Hoseok ❌💍❌]: don’t remind me 

[Y/n]: Why not? I think they should make an appearance this holiday season. You know, for old times' sake.  

[Hoseok ❌💍❌]: no 

[Hoseok ❌💍❌]: god no  

[Hoseok ❌💍❌]: keep that thought to urself 

[Y/n]: no 

[Y/n]: I think I’ll be sharing it with everyone. Make sure we are all on the same page.  

[Hoseok ❌💍❌]: imma scribble all over that page, cause it aint happening 

[Y/n]: Not even if I say please???? 🥺 

[Hoseok ❌💍❌]: dont look at me like that  

[Y/n]: Then don’t look up... 

Hoseok diverted his attention up from his screen and she greeted him with a dramatic pout, stretching her frown down as far as it could go. He shook his head, fighting off the way the edges of his lips wanted to curl upwards, and mouthed ‘try harder’ . Y/n huffed, returning to her phone.  

[Y/n]: Rude.  

[Y/n]: What if I beg????? 

[Y/n]: You know I don’t like doing that 

[Hoseok ❌💍❌]: tempting 🤔🤔🤔🤔 

[Hoseok ❌💍❌]: why do u wanna see them so bad anyway? those things deserved to be tossed in a dumpster fire 

She bit her lip, debating on telling him the real answer that shot up to the front of her mind, frightened that he might be put off by it. But instead of fretting, she just shrugged, choosing to go with honesty rather than losing sleep over something so innocent.  

[Y/n]: Because I think you’d look cute with them 🤗 

Three dots moved along his side of the conversation for far longer than necessary, disappearing and reappearing interchangeably. Sneaking a glance over to his screen, she saw his thumbs hover over the keyboard, a half-typed message discarded again when he held down the delete button. He seemed to decide on what to say, because a small speech bubble finally swooped in. 

[Hoseok ❌💍❌]: whatever 🙄😂 

With a click of the power button, he dropped his phone face down on his leg, choosing to spend his time watching the yellow and green foliage whizz by. While she knew he was just messing around, there was still a dull pang in her chest that caused her grin to slip–she almost felt...rejected. It wasn’t like she had said something super vulnerable, but in her head she had known she had meant it. Known that seeing him in the headband would make her heart flutter with the urge to cradle his face in her hand and press a kiss to the tip of his nose.  

Something she now felt no shame for, and like she had told Jungkook, she took in stride as just...the way it was. There was no use running from it anymore or rushing to put any labels on it. It was just how she felt.  

But his clear disinterest in continuing the conversation made her hesitate, if only for a moment. He always seemed to pull away when her affection grew genuine instead of playful.  

“Miss?” The driver her mother had hired tried to get her attention, catching her eyes in the rearview mirror. “We will be arriving at the airport shortly.”  

“Right!” Y/n pulled her face into something polite. “Thanks, I’ll start getting everyone up and moving.”  

Philadelphia’s airport wasn’t as busy as she expected, and was exceptionally easy to navigate (though, having Yoongi and Jin around, both of whom were quite familiar with it was probably the reason for that).  Everything about the environment overwhelmed her, from the stress of security to the way the building just felt so liminal and never-ending. Laughing to herself, she imagined if here by herself, she would’ve had to use GPS to maneuver her way around. Thus she stuck close, one hand fisted around Yoongi or Jin’s jacket, and the other tucked within Jungkook’s; who looked just as out of his element.  

“No layovers, so make sure you’re comfy.” Yoongi remarked from where he stood over her, face scrunched up with the effort it took to wrangle his bag overhead.  

“I don’t know if I like that more or less,” Y/n grimaced. A light tap on her elbow drew her attention down to Jungkook, who had her seatbelt in his hands ready to fasten it on her behalf. His lips were bitten red with worry, the idea of flying clearly getting under his skin more than she had expected. Perhaps it would only make sense, he hadn’t ever traveled much away from home until this past summer–not that she was one to talk.  She held her arms up so he could connect them, giving him letting him cope with his nerves the way he knew best. 

Yoongi gave his bag one last final shove, fixing his attention back on the three younger ones in her row. “Trust me newbies, it’s better. Now sit tight, it will take a bit for everyone to get settled. Then we’re off.” He sailed his hand through the air like an airplane, whistling for emphasis. Jungkook swallowed audibly next to her.  

Jin and Yoongi were in the row directly ahead of them, leaving Y/n sandwiched between Jungkook and Hoseok–the newbie row as Yoongi had put it. (That is actually not how he put it. He had relentlessly tormented them by calling them Weenie Hut Jr employees the entire time they waited in the terminal, but after a light scolding from Jin he changed it). Both of Y/n’s hands were held in a vice grip by the men on either side as the plane jerked into motion, doing it’s slow rounds of the runway before it would lift off.  

“Careful,” Y/n whispered to them, nodding to the back of Yoongi’s head. “If you freak out too much, he’ll smell your fear.”  

Hoseok huddled in, loosening his grip marginally. “Right. Whaddya say we form an alliance? We just have to look less scared than Kook.”  

Jungkook grunted defiantly, furrowing his brows. “Don’t. I’ll win out of spite.”  

“Yeah? I think Y/n and I here-holy shit!” Hoseok’s teasing was cut short by the planes rapid gain in speed. Jungkook clenched his jaw as he was flung back against his seat, eyes squeezed shut while slow deep exhales were released through his nose. Every muscle in his body tense.  

Once in the air things seemed to settle, and Jungkook slowly unwound himself enough to sneak tiny glances out of Hoseok’s window, while the other man had already gotten over his fear, drinking in the scenery with sparkling eyes and a lopsided grin. Jin would check in on them from time to time, while Yoongi sporadically pushed little silly drawings between the chairs for them to catch and giggle at. This turned into them sending them back through with numbered ratings, so far the top ranking one being the doodle of an extra fluffy cat stuffed into the open top of a pumpkin that was much too small.  

The flight flew by faster when the three of them were busy messing around, either by pestering the older two in front of them, or by having Hoseok teach them some of the seated exercises he was taught to do when sitting for long periods of time and making a game out of who could do the most.  Though nothing prepared them for the drive; just the five of them, a shiny new rental car, and the open roads of Texas for three more hours. That just about drove them mad. Between the startling heat and their growing hunger, they were minutes away from disaster. Yoongi refused to stop for food, using the age old “We have food at home” excuse. A choice he grew to regret as the populations grew sparse and the sounds of his stomach could be heard from the back seat.   

Y/n distracted herself in the clear night sky, praying to whatever force was out there that her extended family would be kind enough to feed them like Yoongi had insinuated. Funnily enough, Yoongi, Jin and Namjoon had been the only ones to ever visit here before so they would be the ones to know. After an unfortunate surprise flight cancellation during an already lengthy layover, the Becerra’s didn’t hesitate to let them camp out there for a couple days while they awaited the next available connecting flight to California on one of their winter trips back to visit extended family overseas.  

The Becerra’s had usually come up north to visit the Estate around the holiday season, their visits growing fewer in frequency after Y/n started middle-school until they stopped entirely. Now that Y/n really thought about it, it was almost odd that her parents had never made it a point to visit the Becerra’s instead of the other way around–but perhaps there was a much deeper reasoning, something she was beginning to become all too familiar with.  

“I see it–a light in the distance~” Hoseok exclaimed dramatically, pointing towards the sign for the Medina Ranch and the distant porch lights that called them home.  

“Thank fuck,” Yoongi muttered under his breath, guiding the van down the wide dirt driveway and to a steady stop.  

The car hadn’t been parked for more than a few seconds before a head of brown hair poked out from the front door, the body following shortly after with a call back into the house Y/n couldn’t hear. Her cousin Miranda was the same age as her, and had always been the one she hung out with when they’d visit. She was one of the few people that would still message occasionally on social media after Y/n had left, but never made it her prerogative to pry.  

“Crazy seeing you here stranger,” Miranda grinned, skipping down the few steps and pulling Y/n in for a hug. “You’ve grown an entire foot since I’d last seen you.”  

“Same goes for you. This trip has been long overdue.” Y/n returned the hug, swaying them a bit.  

Miranda laughed, the sound familiar and melodic. “Way overdue. I was almost offended that you didn’t come stay with us when you high-tailed it out of the Estate.” 

“Yeah...” Y/n cringed, afraid to admit that the thought hadn’t even crossed her mind back then. Switching gears she pulled back from the hug and pinched at the shoulder of Miranda’s NASA hoodie. “I see you’re reppin’ the new gear. How's it feel being the smartest person in the family, miss Astrophysicist?”  

Miranda glowed, pretending to flip her hair under the praise. “It feels like way too many all-nighters and a whole lot of coffee. But really, it’s crazy. Not ready to leave the family home, but also more than ready to get out of here and explore.”  

“I can imagine,” Y/n chuckled, Miranda’s attention shifting to the men hoisting their suitcases out of the trunk.  

“Hey you, come back for revenge?”  

Yoongi let out a breathy chuckle from behind Y/n, sidling up close enough to feel the warmth of his body. His smile was bright, showing off his gums and teeth, expression just dusted with mock hubris. “Revenge? No. Revenge means admitting defeat. To defend my title? Absolutely.”  

Miranda folded her arms, a smirk growing on her face. “What title? I’m almost certain I left your ass in the dust last time I saw you.”  

“That’s not how I remember it.” Yoongi laced his fingers together and stretched his arms in a show of confidence. “I’ve been training for this rematch. And I have a feeling I’ll win.”  

“Don’t get too cocky, I’ve got years of practice ahead of you.”  

“And I’ve got a few years of age ahead of you.”  

Miranda rolled her eyes and playfully nudged Y/n with her elbow. “Oh here he goes, talking like a wise old geezer.”  

Yoongi scoffed, laying a hand over his chest in feigned offense. “I am wise. What is it Abuela said last time I was here? ‘El diablo sabe más por viejo que por diablo’.” 

“One of my greatest regrets is translating that for you, I hope you know that...” Miranda sighed, grabbing for Y/n’s arm and tugging her towards the door with a concealed grin. “I’ll show you around, and since he’s so wise and strong from all this training now he can carry your stuff.”  

The two of them giggled, waving back to Yoongi who was stuck trying to form a protest for his forced labor, but the two women were already up the steps, rushing through the door before he could catch up to them. He was left to do as he was told, his mumbled complaints only heard by the noisy song of crickets and the others already trickling after the duo.  

“Bienvenida~” Her cousin held the door open with her foot, waving her into the main foyer.  

While the ranch was something she had only seen in pictures either taped to scrapbook pages or posted online, none of them did any justice to what it looked like in person. The layout was flat, but sprawled in all directions with long wide hallways and ceilings of exposed beams, mostly wood with touches of the adobe stone that lined the exterior walls. Y/n took in the wide square shaped foyer that left the massive dining room and kitchen area visible straight through a wooden arch to her right, and another twin arch on her left into the living room; all leather couches and hand-woven blankets in vibrant colors. Straight ahead was a clustered art wall besides the main hallway, adorned with mounted weapons, art pieces, baskets, and more photos than she could count–both weathered and marked with sunblotches or glossy and new. Jungkook had already sat himself down on the wooden bench against it, making quick work of his shoes and motioning for Y/n to do the same.  

Kicking them off and handing them over, she did a full spin. It was just as beautiful as she had pieced together from the photos she had been sent, but something about how...light it felt struck her. How her shoulders sagged in subconscious relief instead of tensing up, how the walls offered safety and security rather than closing in like a stalking beast. The scuffs in the wooden floors, the knicks in the door frame, the wafting aroma of warm spices and herbs–all reminders that the house was full of life.  

“Nice, huh?” Miranda threw an arm over Y/n’s shoulder, guiding her down the long hallway. “And you could have been here for years...” She gave a condescending shake of her head, waving for Jungkook and Hoseok who lingered in the hall to follow. “Let me show you to your rooms. And then you can eat!”  

Never had Y/n heard more glorious of an offer.  

The ranch had the one thing Y/n missed more than anything about her youth: family. Even though a few of her younger cousins were off at school, the table was jam-packed with people sitting in any chair they could pull up, her extended family having shown up on short notice to spend the evening with them like it was the most important event of the year. It was full of laughter, good food, conversations that bounced off one another with ease, and the kind of warmth only being surrounded by family could fill you with.  Y/n hadn’t seen any of her friends this relaxed at a meal since the few final days before the Christmas she had left. Each minute that ticked by made it clear that whatever was wrong back at home had permeated the air and seeped into the foundation, because it was not this easy just existing there like it was here.  

With her belly full of some of the best food Y/n had in weeks and cheeks sore from laughing too much, she wandered away from the clean-up crew that she and the boys had been shooed out of back into the foyer to keep herself occupied (obviously Jungkook staunchly refused to leave, landing him the center of praise while he took over most of the cleaning). The first twenty minutes were spent saying long drawn-out goodbyes with her aunts and uncles that no one wanted to say the final word for, always adding something else to just keep the conversation going. When the last of them had retired to their homes on the neighboring properties, Y/n let out a hefty sigh.  

That night she fell asleep alone, realizing that no one here knew her and Jungkook were together and not wanting to correct them when they had gone out of their way to prepare a room for her. Her room was quaint and homely; a heavy wooden bed frame and a full sized mattress adorned with patterned quilts and thin sheets, with matching wooden furniture and colorful cushions–everything handmade and preserved with care. 

She took it as an opportunity to check in with Jimin and Namjoon, the latter of which had already fallen asleep for the night long before she messaged, and the former forgoing texts for a video call that Y/n only half remembered hitting the answer button for. Almost a half hour had passed of her listening to the comforting honey-tone of his explain what he had managed to tie together already in-between tours. His focus had been on Bear and Duane, for while they were chasing Lisolette and Candida, he figured it’d best if he sniffed out one of the other relationships of suspect. After a few beats, his words grew further apart, dragging the edges of his phrases through the muddy waters of sleep until it came to a complete stop. 

“What time is it there?”  

Y/n cracked one eye open to look at the screen with a grunt, met with his face lit up just by the glow of his screen. “Almost one.”  

Jimin hummed, rubbing his bottom lip with his index finger. “You should get some sleep, my love.” 

“So should you,” Y/n shifted so she could look at his face fully. “It’s later there.”  

“That’s true. However, this whole thing has me a bit...” His tone grew softer. Timid. “I feel like I owe it to him to keep going.”  

Bear. He didn’t have to say his name for her to know who he was refering to.  

“Me too,” Y/n admitted, nuzzling further into the pillow. “But we can’t expect to get anything done when we aren’t taking care of ourselves.”  

“You’re right, as always.” Jimin let out a heavy breath, shifting the phone so just his eyes were visible. “I love you, sleep well.”  

“You’re not actually going to sleep, are you?” Y/n slurred out between her smushed cheeks, sinking further into the pillow. Jimin made a face that told her everything she needed to know. At last she managed one final chuckle before admitting defeat to the imminent call of sleep. “I love you too, goober. Don’t stay up all night.”  

_________________________________________ 

<Incoming messages from unknown number> 

Unknown: Hey silly, this is Miranda. I snagged your number from Jin before I left to run some errands for my mom. I tried to catch you last night while you were out and about after dinner but you were a little tipsy so idk if you remember. (and I thought I had a low tolerance girl, because I don’t even remember you drinking that much jaja).  Anywho, most of us are out working the farm and market during the day, but please feel free to make yourself at home! Jin and Yoongi know the ropes if you have any issues. Be back soon. Te amo <3 

Unknown: and another thing, save my number loser 😝 

Y/n felt like she had been hit by a truck. From her neck down to her feet ached like she hadn’t slept in days, and her head pounded against the back of her eyes with a vengeance. Confused, she chalked it up to sleeping in a different environment and the toll all the travel had taken on her. She certainly didn’t remember having more than one drink–in fact, she knew she didn’t have more than one after she made sure not to after a warning from Yoongi that her uncle made them strong.  

Shrugging it off, she clambered from the bed and tried to stretch the stiffness from her bones and muscles that creaked and screamed out in protest with each bend and twist. Cursing herself for sleeping in such a strange position, she shucked on one of the outfits Jungkook had packed for her and wandered out into the hall in search of something to drink as to hopefully soothe some of the grouchiness making way into her morning mood.  

With daylight on her side, the view from the windows offered more than the previous evening. The land was vast, layered in wild grasses and trees that were much less dense than she was used to, holding crooked and spindly arms out to the skies that looked like they went on forever. She could also see the barns and cattle pens from the front windows, as well as the dirt path that must lead further onto the acres and acres that waited beyond.  With a cup of coffee nursed close to her chest, she tiptoed through the quiet house in search of some company. The caffeine must be helping her migraine, because with each quiet step, it seemed to dissipate.  

Passing the gallery wall in the foyer, it immediately caught her attention again. And with time to really appreciate it, she lingered over to a few of the photos, running her eyes over each face. Many of them were of men and women in wide-brimmed vaquero hats, eyes squinted from the sun while seated proudly atop a horse, or lounging on the porch with their work boots and gloves traded out for cold glasses and afternoon conversation. As more color was brought into the mix, she could start recognizing the people in them with greater accuracy: her great “uncle” Angel teaching Miranda how to hold the reigns of a spotted steed, a charming grin stretched across his face that was starting to crease with middle-age, or her younger cousin’s as newborns being carried around the property or crawling across ornate rugs. Her headache deepened, and she began to worry that she may have caught something along their travels. There was no way she was doing any kind of summoning ritual or seance with whatever was going on with her body at the moment. She felt like crumpling on the spot and blocking out any and all light for the sweet relief her bed and darkness might bring. She persevered, trying her best to take in the rest of the pictures.  

One picture in particular caught her by surprise–a very welcomed surprise and distraction.  

Yoongi beamed up at her from the photo in a cowboy hat too wide for his head, jeans splattered with mud and grass stains, mounted on a dark brown horse next to her cousin’s riding their own. The next photo had her stifling a laugh with her palm, the image of Jin looking nearly green with fear, legs dug into the leather saddle while his parents both had a protective hand on his side to keep him in place for the picture.  

Y/n didn’t realize her laughter wasn’t muffled enough, because someone had come searching for the source.  

“I knew I’d find you here eventually,” Jin lamented, shuffling next to her to look at it the image. He slid his gaze over to her with a dramatic huff. “You’re laughing. I was terrified for my life, and you’re laughing.”  

She shouldered him with a hush. “D-don’t make me laugh too hard, I’m trying to be a good respectable guest!”  

“I’m not trying to do anything!” His eyes blew wide. “I’m trying to explain the seriousness of the situation! I could have died.”  

“Oh yes, right,” Y/n coughed into her fist, lowering her mug down onto the bench. “Serious. Life threatening. Because of...” She squinted at the writing in the bottom corner. “...a horse named corn.”  

Jin sputtered, pointing at the writing. “It’s name is maíz! Like maim!”  

“Yeah, no– maíz means corn, you dingus.” Y/n smacked his hand away from the frame, reaching up to give a reassuring pat on both his cheeks. “It’s okay, I’ll protect you from the evil corn.”  

He shoved his hands up between hers and chopped them away, making a jab for her ribs that had her erupting into giggles upon contact.  

“H-hey! Not fair!” Y/n lunged back, aiming to strike at his side but he leapt out of the way, both hands coming up in a defensive stance. She tried again, grabbing both his wrists and yanking them out of the way, poking at his underarm until he choked on a laugh.  

Jin wagged a finger, tipping his chin to look down his nose at her. “Remember who you are playing against and what power I hold...”  

“I remember just fine,” Y/n challenged, her sore muscles and headache dulled to an almost imperceivable thrum. “Bring it on~”  

The pictures were long forgotten in favor of their childish tickle war, the two of them dancing around the foyer with burning cheeks while trying to catch their breath in-between stolen laughter. Y/n was holding up well, landing a few attacks of her own and dodging most of his–but she should have known better than to wage a battle against someone that has psychic inclinations. Jin had her trapped between the corner of the foyer and him, the only way out was to flee into the hallway behind him or the living room to her right, but he must had already surmised as much. Locked in a standstill, regaining her strength for her final escape. Maybe it was the direction in which her foot hit the floor that gave her plan away, or maybe she was doomed to lose from the start; for she found herself trapped in his arms before she could blink, her escape route cut short.  

He was relentless, tickling her until her eyes watered, and she couldn’t catch her breath no matter how hard she fought for it. She loved when she could break him like this–force him out of that strict and anxious shell in to see the carefree goofball he really could be. It made her fight to escape weaker on purpose so she could savor the moment. But she could only handle it for so long, her saving grace being Hoseok sauntering out from the hall, hair tousled and thin shirt unbuttoned enough to offer some relief from the warm weather.   

“Hoseok!” She cried out for him, hand outstretched for aid. “Hobi! Save me! I’m trapped!”  

With wide eyes he took in the scene, her pressed flush against Jin and completely out of breath and seemed to deflate, running a hand through his hair with a dull smile. “Sorry Ducky, you’re out of luck–I have someone else's buttons to press. You two have fun though.”  

Y/n’s laughter seemed to die out as she realized Hoseok was serious, tracking the way he shook both his shoes out before slipping them on and taking his leave out the front door as quick as he could. That same pathetic pang of rejection as when they were texting struck her chest, and this time it took multiple attempts to swallow it down. She didn’t even notice that Jin had let go, not until he was standing next to her with a sheepish smile and rubbing a hand on the back of his neck.  

“Don’t take it to heart, Y/n. He’s probably just dealing with the toll traveling can take on him. It can make his symptoms worse than they already are in the mornings.”  

“Right,” she wiped her hands on her shorts that had begun to sweat. While her instincts told her to give him space, she felt stuck upon remembering Misuk’s request. Jin seemed to read her mind, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.  

“Don’t worry about him, he just needs some grace.” He scanned the rest of the foyer, stopping on their shoes for a moment to ponder his own thoughts, nibbling at his bottom lip as he did so. “I’m going to go check on him–and try to round up the others while I’m out there too. We should be using our time wisely. 

“Sounds like a plan,” Y/n pressed her lips together in a wry smile. “I’ll just...be here. Waiting.” 

Jin crouched low to slip on his own sneakers, mimicking how Hoseok had whacked them on the ground. “I’ll just be a minute. Don’t start anything without us, okay?”  

“Scouts honor,” Y/n quipped, earning herself a mild glare.  

“Uh-huh. Sure.” 

Her peace left with Jin, trailing after him down the steps and onto the dirt road. In its place was the merciless throb of her muscles and the ebbing waves of her headache’s return. It would be wise to wait for all of them. To sit in a protective circle with her friends and take each step slowly. But something in her grew impatient–probably because putting her mind to something would wash away the straying discomfort of Hoseok’s strange behavior. Taking a steadying breath, she felt something in her center stir, stretching outwards with hesitant curling vines.  

It wouldn’t hurt to just take a quick peek.   

Her eyes fell closed, and she continued to focus on the constant sound of her breath and the feel of it flowing in through her nose and out through softly parted lips. A presence made itself known in close proximity to the door, not malevolent by any means, but pertinent. She could almost see it. Almost feel it in its entirety.  

She could do this, she mumbled to herself, hands clenched into fists at her side. She just needed more. Siphoning energy from her emotions, she treaded into dangerous waters, a murky risk that reflected images of Bear and his bravery back to her. She thought of her sister and how deeply she wished to claw her back to a state of normalcy. 

And then naturally, her thoughts drifted to Ani and her car ride tantrum.  

The pounding of her head returned with urgency, blinding white hot pain making her sway on her feet with its strength. It pulsed like a heartbeat, moved like an entity of its own. A whimper broke from her lips as it heightened until nothing but the sound of its drumming beat could be heard. When she opened her eyes, her vision was blurry, stolen by the ache. She stumbled forwards towards the wall, her balance knocked entirely off kilter. She just wanted to sit on the floor. To curl into a ball and shrink into herself until nothing was left. To hide.  

Forward she moved, towards the pictures–leaning to the wall for support. Something in her gut told her to keep going. Beckoning her forwards until her breath fogged up the glass on a black and white picture no bigger than the size of her hand. It wound into her brain, danced around her conscious mind as she gasped for breath. All she could see was the woman in the photo. The hat perched atop her head, the gun in her fist, the horse she rode. Everything was warped, her mind a spinning circus that liquified her physical body and melted her mind.  

“Just...just a bit more...” Y/n gasped out, sounding foreign to even her own ears.  

The earth shook–no–perhaps it was Jin shaking her out of her stupor with a firm grip on her shoulders. When had he even gotten back? Was it him at all?  

Or maybe it was no one, she mused, because the photos were moving too, swaying in all directions. No, it was definitely her falling.  

Her knees collapsed, and her chin hit the wooden bench below as her limp limbs made a grab fort anything to stop her fall, sending the last of her coffee splattering to the floor. She tried to cradle the stinging wound that dripped down her chin, but her hands wouldn’t listen to her brain’s command.  

The physical world slipped through her fingertips, disintegrating into nothing but that black and white picture and the woman who stared straight back at her through the glass. Her dark eyes gleaming with a warning.  

“You better start talkin’ before I chase you out of my house.”  

The eyes from the photo blinked, calculating and cold. Y/n’s spinning vision settled on them and the person they belonged to–and looked up the long barrel of the gun pointed straight at her forehead. 

She froze, following the smooth metal and detailed wooden handle back to its wielder. “I’m not here to hurt any-” her voice broke upon realization. “I’m here to see you!”  

Lisolette remained stoic, nodding to Y/n with the gun. “Why?” Her accent was indistinct, some combination between southern, one similar to her own, and one entirely different and modern. A collision of identities she's had throughout her life shining through her voice. 

“There’s something wrong with the Estate, and we thought you might have the answers as to how to fix it. Or to at least nudge us in the right direction.” If Y/n could sweat as a spirit, she would be drenched right about now. “We think it has something to do with your sister.” 

Lisolette soaked in what she said like a sponge and held it there, drawing out the long, unbroken quiet that tightened around Y/n’s throat, suffocating her in it. “You a Wörner?”  

“Yes!” Y/n squeaked, eyeing the weapon closely. “I’m family! I just want to talk!”  

“Are you diseased?”  

“What?!”  

“I said,” Lisolette dug the metal into Y/ns cheek, “are you diseased?” 

“Like with MADness?” Whatever blood still flowed through her went ice cold as she could visibly see Lisolette’s patience dwindle. “No! I promise. We are all good.” 

With one more moment’s deliberation, Lisolette lowered her weapon to the floor, though one hand stayed locked around it as a warning that she still could, and probably would. Y/n sighed in relief, coming to a slow stand with her hands held up in surrender.  

“Can you help us fix this? I just need to know what you know, and then we will leave if you want us to.”  

With a click of her tongue, her aunt propped her rifle against the corner of the enclosed space, dusting her hands off on her skirts. “Stay as long as you like, but there ain’t any god in the world that could cure what has plagued that house. Get out of there. That’s what I know.” Reaching a hand over a wooden gate behind her, she nudged it open, pacing out into the main part of the building they were in.  

It was then Y/n realized they weren’t in the foyer anymore, but a stable; empty on all sides save for the two of them and a single horse parked in the corner stall. Y/n hurried after her aunt who was beelining straight for the animal, sending every signal to Y/n that she was done talking–but Y/n wasn’t. There was no way she was going to let her walk out of here without giving her something. 

“Wait! You have to know more. Infact, I know you do. I read your letter. The one you sent to Adelaide. I’ve met your sister too–lovely woman by the way–tried to kill me and all my friends in one go.”  

Lisolette stiffened, her back turned to Y/n. She could see how hard her shoulders rose and fell, hands fisted into the fabric of her skirts until they shook. “Now that’s how I know you have no idea what you’re talkin’ about.” Spurring into motion again, Lisolette hoisted a lone saddle off the wall and draped it over the dark horse, still not sparing Y/n a second glance.  

“Then by all means–correct me,” Y/n pleaded, exasperated. “But that’s what I know happened so far.”  

“No, that’s what you think you know. You’re just like the rest of ‘em.”  

Y/n snorted, her temper beginning to boil. “Oh right, because it wasn’t her that possessed me and filled my head with terrifying images, tormenting me for weeks.”  

Lisolette grew bored as she buckled the saddle into place. "It wasn’t. And if this is all you came for, you can go ahead and pack your bags. I’m not interested in meddling with that place, or that family.”  

Unbelievable. Y/n was being gaslit by the ghost of her dead thrice great aunt. Steam billowed out of her ears as she rounded up behind her, yanking her shoulder back so she was forced to look at her.  

“Look–I don’t give a fuck about who thinks what. You’re going to tell me what you know about this fucked up family, so I can go home and fix it. I’m not here to ask for your opinions or permission. I’m here because I know you can help me, and I’m not stepping a damn foot off your property until you do.”  

Their eyes met, and Liselotte's had taken an even darker shade of fury. In an instant Y/n’s hand was knocked from her shoulder and twisted behind her, and with one swift kick to the back of her knees, she was sprawled out on the barn floor.  

“Don’t you dare put your hands on me, girl. You don’t get to come into my house, put my family and everything I worked to protect at risk because of a naive fantasy you’ve conjured about saving that house. Like I said, there ain’t nothing left to save.” Liselotte looked down at her with such molten heat Y/n felt the burn of it all over her skin. But she couldn’t back down.  

“There is so much left to save...” Y/n struggled to her feet, putting distance between them. “Just because you’ve given up doesn’t mean we all have to!”  

“I haven’t given up on nothing.” She spat down at the ground. “I just know when to cut my losses.”  

“Same thing,” Y/n growled, rushing forwards with both hands outstretched for the collar of her shirt, pinning her back against the stable pole. “I am not a loss you can cut off. My friends are not losses. My sister died because of people like you running away with your tails between your legs to save themselves instead of facing it head on. You may think I know nothing, but at least I know that if we don’t stop it, nothing will change. Adelaide sent me here to talk to you, and I intend to do just that. Willing or unwilling–I have allies on my team that can make you.”  

Hands dug into Y/n’s, curling around her fingers and staying there. Lisolette looked like she wanted to rip Y/n’s head off and feed it to the animals outside. But she didn’t. She threw Y/n’s hands off her shoulders and shoved her away, stalking back over to her horse and swinging one leg up and over its middle, an act ingrained as second nature to her. Tugging on the reigns the horse stalled next to Y/n, it’s breath fanning over her shoulder. Lisolette extended a hand down to her in offering.  

“C’mon. Let’s take a walk.”  

With unassuming strength, Lisolette hoisted Y/n up behind her, Y/n offering a little help with what memory she had of horseback riding at fairs to give her a boost. Their pace was slow, a gentle rock down the dirt paths away from the ranch and fields, off towards a trail that snaked through the plains.  

“You’re that Matilda girl’s sister, aren’t you?”  

Y/n’s fingers dug into Lisolette’s jacket. “How do you know that?”  

“I may be dead, but I’m still here. I heard all about it after it happened.” After a brief pause she added “I’m sorry for your loss.”  

“You looked like you didn’t recognize me back in the barn, why go through all of that if you already knew who I was?” Y/n ignored her sympathy, still a bit peeved from her less than hospitable welcome and the complete one-eighty she had done.  

Lisolette kept her face forward. “I was seein’ if you’d lie. People aren't always what they seem in this family. You should know that by now.”  

Y/n gasped. “You know about Clay?”  

“Yeah, I know about that little shit. He’s my cousin after all.” Her aunt steered the horse around a small bend, passing by a particularly mangled tree. “He acts all high and mighty, but all he will ever be is a sniveling little coward that can’t do anything without his mama.”   

“Does he...Can he come here?” The urge to look in all directions was overwhelming, nervous that if he could, would speaking of him invite him closer? 

“No,” The confidence of the woman in front of her soothed any growing fear. “He’s knows better. I’ll shoot him dead if he does. I have no mercy for that son of a bitch.”  

Uninterested in exploring the topic any further, Lioslette grew quiet and stiff. Thinking of the best ways to roundabout back to the task at hand without setting her off again, Y/n settled for something unassuming to placate the mood. “When was the last time you visited our side of the family? As a ghost, I mean.”  

Lisolette sniffed, wiping dirt off her nose with a gloved hand. “Never.”  

“Never?” Y/n parroted.  

“I haven’t stepped foot on that property since I left for good, and I have no intention of ever going back. And neither will any of my living family.”  

Y/n furrowed her brows. “Why?”  

“Because I told them not to.” As if sensing her want to ask more, Lisolette obliged. “I knew whatever happened to your sister had to do with the curse them Wörner's are tangled in. I had always told Adelaide, if things wasn’t out of order, we would come back. Visit. But the second anything funny happened, we’d be gone.”  

“So it’s a curse...” Y/n let the observation fall through her lips with relief.  

“That’s my theory. And it ain’t hard to make it. With how many girls’ died there, I wasn’t risking any of mine being next.”  

“Lisolette...” Y/n started carefully, to which the woman responded with  that she assumed meant she could continue. “What do you know?”  

“What’s Adelaide already told you?”  

“Nothing,” Y/n grunted in response. “All I know is that my sister was murdered in a ploy using my father that was supposed to end my life; all of my dead relatives are infected with some kind of disease and are out to finish the job; and for some reason it has something to do with someone or something in this family. Especially Adelaide.”  

The former rage that had enveloped Lisolette was nowhere to be seen in her weary chuckle, her posture relaxed and confident as she guided them up the trail. “Adelaide is good at that whole bein’ mysterious thing.” Adjusting the hat on her head, sighed. “I see her in you. Her tenacity. Her passion to do what’s right. To fix it all with her own hands. But in the end, nothing came out of it. She spent her life trying to fix the mess and failed–and she was the one with all the answers. What makes you think you’re going to be any different, hmm?”  

Y/n listened intently, and answered just as honestly. “I don’t know. I just...feel it.”  

Lisolette looked straight ahead where the sky seemed endless and the trail, running her tongue along the inside of her cheek. “I really am sorry ‘bout your sister. I know what it’s like to lose them.” That was about as close to empathetic as Lisolette had sounded, her tough exterior cracking enough to let something soft sit between them. “I’ll tell you what–I’ll share my theories with you, but you have to promise you won’t go gettin’ my grandkids involved. And keep my name out of it too, don’t need anything traveling down south and stirring up trouble.” 

“And that’s more than enough. Really.” Y/n felt her heartrate speed up in anticipation, the horse beneath her keeping her from practically jumping with joy.  

There was a pregnant pause as Lisolette chose her next words carefully. Y/n teetered forward subconsciously to listen, teeming with an eagerness that made her limbs tingle. “My sister didn’t kill her kids. And she didn’t try to kill you. I know she wouldn’t’ve.” 

Y/n immediately started to deflate, feeling indignant at her dismissal of truth. “How could you possibly know that? She literally tried to kill me just a handful of months ago. Even Bear said he knew about Candida, and a note from Adelaide’s journal...”  

“That’s where they got it all wrong,” Liselotte regarded her scathingly over her shoulder, eyes molten. “Because I think I know who actually did.”  

The world around them rippled like water that someone had stuck their hands through, blurring the scenery and the face of her aunt. Something struck her, like a hook on a fishing line, and started to yank her back incessantly. Impossible to ignore and unbearably persistent, she wrapped her arms around her aunt and held on like her life depended on it. She refused to leave now that she was on the brink of answers.  

“Looks like you’re bein’ summoned.” Tugging the horse to a complete stop, Lisolette lifted an arm to point at a small structure in the distance, nothing more than a wooden shed near a small pond. “Come find me here when you’re ready.”  

“No, no, no!” Y/n knew she probably sounded like a toddler digging her heels in, her temper flaring at his insistance. “Jungkook, if that’s you please wait! I’ll be back soon I just need-”  

“Come to me now.” Jungkook’s voice boomed through her skull as a final warning that she couldn’t disobey.  

“Well I’ll be damned...” Lisolette seemed impressed, taking off her hat and squinting up towards the bright sun, whispering in her awe. "That’s quite the friend you have.”  

_________________________________________ 

“Keep that on your chin.” 

A bag of frozen beans was thrust into her hand as Yoongi gave the freezer door a bump with his shoulder to close, then next wrenching open the fridge door to fill up glass with cold water. The heat was taking a toll on him, skin slick with sweat that disappeared behind the neckline of his unbuttoned shirt, his black jeans dusty and coated in dirt. He must have been up to something in the great outdoors; something absolutely unheard of for him.  

 Positioning the bag on the on her busted chin, she shuffled back against the counter with her arms crossed and her head down. She had no right to be angry really–her current predicament was partially her own doing. Though it didn’t stop the pesky emotion from rearing its ugly head, her defenses kicked into high gear. Jungkook was there the moment she awoke, steely and unmoving, setting her off into a frantic scramble to get back in that he promptly ignored. Going into the Paralrealm hadn’t been her intention by a long shot. All she had been trying to do was feel around for any clues, to stretch her spiritual muscles in a low-risk environment. How could she have known that Lisolette would suck her in and all but ready to blast her soul to smithereens for poking around? She had to respect the hustle of protecting what was important to her, she’d be hypocritical if she didn’t.  

Though if they had just tried to communicate with her instead of bossing her around, she could have reassured them of her safety, and let them know she was making great progress. How could they expect to get anywhere without any risks? A little blood never killed her.  

“Fix your face.” Yoongi waved a finger in the direction of her head. “And stop pouting.”  

“I am not pouting,” Y/n muttered bitterly down to the floor.  

“I’m not pouting~” Yoongi mimicked her phrase in a high-pitched tone, his long fingers encircling her wrist to adjust the position of the bag and holding it there. “Yeah, right. Tell that to the big ass pout on your face.” 

“I hit my lip,” Y/n rolled her eyes, hating how the touch of his warm skin on her cold hands felt absolutely divine, making her want to cave in when she was trying to stand her ground. “It’s just swollen.” He moved to mimic her again but before she could, she shoved her palm against his mouth to silence it. “Enough of that. I’m not in the mood.”  

Yoongi raised a pointed brow at her in a challenge, and then something wet and warm swiped against her palm.  

“Did you just lick me?!” Y/n tore her hand from his mouth and frantically wiped it on her cropped shirt.  

Yoongi shrugged, mirroring her position on the counter across from her, staying close so he could keep the frozen bag in place. “You had your hand on my mouth. Consequences.” his humored stare dipped into a knowing one, motioning to her face with the bag. “Consequences.”  

Y/n sighed, not in the mood to play any games. “Yeah. Whatever. It wasn’t my intention to go anywhere, not that anyone seems to care to listen.”  

“By anyone you mean the kid.”  

Y/n eyed him from her peripheral. “By anyone I mean everyone.”  

“I’m not the one that needed to take a walk with Jin to cool off.” Yoongi noted, his intelligence grating on her nerves. “And Hoseok just went to physically cool off before he passed out from the heat. So that only leaves one culprit.”  

Y/n didn’t answer, choosing instead to look out the window of the kitchen and watch some of the cream-colored cows graze the billowing grasses.  

“I noticed you two slept in your own rooms last night. Trouble in paradise?”  

Y/n’s glare turned sharp, stabbing through him. “No. Not at all. At least not until ten minutes ago.” Playing with the seam of the bag, she shook her head. “And since when do you care where I sleep at night?”  

Yoongi held his hands up in surrender. “Hey, just trying to fill the Teddy Bear’s shoes as our resident conflict resolution manager.”  

“Thought that was your job?” Y/n rebuked sarcastically.  

“Nah. I prefer to work with intrapersonal versus interpersonal. I’m more of an intern: underpaid and underappreciated.”  

Y/n didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of finding him funny in any capacity, withholding her smile by biting her lip. “Underappreciated my ass.”  

“No, that’s actually very appreciated.”  

Y/n choked on her own spit, the only thing saving the beans from tumbling to the floor was Yoongi’s grip on it. “What?”  

“What?” Yoongi put on such a good show of innocence that she almost believed she misheard him. Almost.  

However cold her hands were was mute, the frigid temperatures starting to get smoked out by the heat that flushed her system, his eyes unescapable while he looked over her. They weren’t as teasing or sly as she had expected, but instead focused and calculating, like they were reading every thought she’d ever had on her face. Like he was searching.  

One of his fingers “accidentally” moved lower on the bag, skimming over hers.  

And then he washed over her, calm and cool as a babbling stream. It opened the window between them, letting her look into his head just as much as he was looking in hers–whether he realized that or not. Around her was a blend of color, burgundy reds, sickly yellows and that same lavender that swirled around his that were swirling with spots of orange.  

“What does purple mean?” The words tumbled from her mouth before she could catch them, her aggravation momentarily forgotten.  

Yoongi’s presence recoiled from her like a darting fish, there one instant and gone with the next. His brow shot to his hairline and he wet his lips. “What?”  

“What?” Y/n used his own tools against him, this time letting herself smirk.  

He chuckled, shaking his head with a lopsided grin. “You can’t do that, that’s mine.”  

“Too bad, just did.”  

Footsteps scuffed along the floors, and Hoseok hobbled in to rummage through the fridge,  looking paler than he had that morning. Worry flared in her belly, her banter with Yoongi cut short.  

“Hey, you feeling okay?” She was next to him in an instant, palm pressing to his forehead and cheeks. His skin was clammy to the touch. He didn’t retract like she had expected him too, his cheek pressing further into the touch of her cool palm. “Hoseok–you're burning up...” 

“Just peachy.” His tone was clipped, his smile more of a grimace.  

Pulling the bag away from her chin she held it to his forehead, a content sigh falling from his parted lips that fell flat. He looked so tired.  

“Did you get some sleep last night?” She reached up to brush some strands of his hair away from his forehead and resituated the bag there.  

Hoseok hummed distantly, the hand still lingering on the fridge door dropping off to land limp at his side, hovering near the edge of her shorts. “I’ve had better.”  

Y/n looked to Yoongi over her shoulder, switching gears. “Do you know where they keep any of their medications? And something else cold?”  

“On it.” Yoongi kicked off the counter and veered out into the hall like a man on a mission.  

With one hand to hold the makeshift bag to his head, she steered him back into the foyer, ushering him down past the residents' rooms to the guest hall, his breathing shallow.  

“Y/n, really I’m fine.”  

“Bullshit. You can sell that crap to anyone else but not me.” She bumped open his door with her hip, nodding towards his bed. “Lay down before I make you.”  

No fight was put up, tossing himself down onto the mattress with an audible groan and curling up on his side. Something was definitely wrong. She sat on the edge, rubbing soothing circles on his arm until Yoongi returned with a handful of options and two bags of frozen peas that she swapped out.  

Hoseok tried to wave her away multiple times, but one cold stare had him gulping down his protests, submitting to her aid. She tried to help him get comfortable, his walls crumbling enough to show her how he really felt. Seeing him like this sent sharp stab through her ribs; brows pinched, skin damp, and muscles weak. Why hadn’t he just told her he wasn’t feeling well?  

Yoongi left after helping her pull the covers over him, slipping off to let the others know where she had gone when they come back with a look that said I’m not finished with you. They still had plenty to talk about with Lisolette, and now... 

“I’m going to hang in here if that’s okay...” Y/n settled on top of his comforter, keeping a bit of distance as to not overwhelm his senses when already vulnerable. “Just to keep an eye on you.”  

Hoseok nodded offhandedly, nuzzling into his pillow. She swallowed thickly, remembering his avoidance.  

“Do you want me here, or do you want to be alone? I won’t be offended either way.”  

One of his eyes cracked open to look up at her, weighed down by fatigue that whittled down into his bones. “Make yourself at home.” With great struggle, he rolled over onto his stomach, facing away from her. “I’m gonna get some shut eye.”  

There was nothing she could do but watch him, or pass the time away playing games on her phone and thinking of her conversation with Lisolette. She didn't feel comfortable leaving him alone, not with her promise to his mother weighing over her.  

She already felt like she failed.  

Sinking against his headboard, she was reminded of her sore muscles, rolling her shoulders out to try and loosen them.  It was then that Hoseok made the same exact motion in tandem with her. When pain webbed up her neck and she tried to roll it out, he would stretch his to the side. With keen eyes, she observed the distant dull ache in her body and how it moved, following the contours of Hoseok’s body that fidgeted whenever it started to worsen. Perhaps her pain wasn’t hers.  

Maybe her training had been working with more than just Jungkook, Yoongi and Taehyung. Maybe it was affecting all of them.  

An idea struck her.  

Gingerly, she glided her fingertips over the edge of his shoulder blades where the ghost of a knot pressed on her own nerves. He jolted beneath the touch but didn’t pull away. While watching for any kind of response, she applied light pressure to the area, working along the lone strip of muscle.  

After a few moments, she added her second hand, her own ice pack discarded off to the side. He melted beneath her touch, wincing at particularly tender spots but otherwise compliant in her impromptu massage.  

“I can feel it,” She whispered. “Not all of it I don’t think, but some of it. I can feel it here,” She drew her fingers around his neck. “Here,” Grazing lower down his back rest between his shoulders, “And here,” She stopped down at his lower back alongside his spine, rubbing circles into the muscle there.  

“I’m sorry,” Hoseok mumbled against his pillow. “I...I don’t know why. I didn’t mean to give it to you.”  

“Is that how you feel every day? I felt like I was run over this morning.”  

“More or less.” Hoseok cleared his throat when his voice cracked. “It’s...It will just keep getting worse. And I just have to deal with it.”  

Y/n frowned, her hand dancing up his spine to card through the hair on the back of his head. “Not alone, though.”  

“No,” His voice grew tight. “I guess not.”  

Y/n didn’t recall when her eyes had started to droop, but she was made aware of it when someone’s knuckles rapt on the door, startling her awake. Hoseok was still asleep next to her, so she took her time shimmying off his bed as to not wake him, padding over to the door and coming face to face with Jungkook.  

“Hey,” She breathed out, wiping some of the sleep from her eyes. 

“Hey.” Jungkook gave her a once over, then stole a glance at Hoseok. “Yoongi said he was sick.”  

“He’s just having a rough day.”  

“Oh.” Jungkook digested what she said, looking over Hoseok like he was categorizing how he looked for future reference.  

Y/n clicked the door closed, breaking his line of sight until he had to stare down at her. “Look, Kook, I’m sorry that I got a little irritated when I woke up. I just...I was on the brink of something really important and you ignored me when I asked you to wait.”  

His nose twitched, his face void of any of his earlier tension. “I know.”  

“I just want you to trust me when I say I’m okay. I've been getting better at letting you know when I’m not. I promise that I wasn’t trying to go anywhere or do anything. It happened all on its own.”  

“You were bleeding,” Jungkook stated, the corners of his mouth twitching into a frown.  

“I...” Y/n blew air out of her cheeks. “I was. And I can Imagine that probably freaked everyone out. But I-”  

“And you weren’t holding my hand.” He moved closer, his forehead nearly brushing against hers. “I was scared. I couldn’t see where you were.”  

Y/n’s hands found purchase in the hair at the nape of his neck. “I’m sorry.”  

“Me too.” Jungkook pressed his lips to hers in a quick peck, his lips tender and soft–just like him. 

“You ready to hear what I was up to?” Y/n twirled one of his curls around her index finger.  

“Always.”  

_________________________________________ 

[Joon 🧸🌱]: Sorry I missed your call last night. I’ve been running around like a chicken with its head cut off trying to set up for all of the fall festivities. I don’t even know how your parents still have time for the anniversary celebrations. It’s coming up faster than I can blink and I’m so far behind.  

[Joon 🧸🌱]: Call me in the morning? I miss my greenhouse buddy :/  

[Y/n]: Don’t worry about it. It’s been a crazy day here too 

[Y/n]: Wouldn’t miss it 🫡💚 

[Joon 🧸🌱]: Anything I should hear about now, or can it wait until morning.  

<Y/n sent an image> 

[Y/n]: I busted my chin on a bench 😶 

[Y/n]: But look, from this angle it looks like it makes a heart!  

[Y/n]: I hope it leaves a scar that shape. Like a Carebear 😎 

[Joon 🧸🌱]: ... 

[Joon 🧸🌱]: You’re putting Solomon's seal on that when you get home  

[Joon 🧸🌱 changed Y/n’s nickname to 💚🔪My CareBear🔪💚] 

[💚🔪My CareBear🔪💚]: Awww now we are both bears!  

[💚🔪My CareBear🔪💚]: Wait why the knife? 

[Joon 🧸🌱]: Because you’re the Carebear of affection and wrath.  

[💚🔪My CareBear🔪💚]: Fair.  

[💚🔪My CareBear🔪💚]: I have to head to dinner. I’ll talk to you tomorrow 🤗  

[Joon 🧸🌱]: I’ll be waiting 😀  

It had taken the entire day for Hoseok to crawl out of bed again, and even then he only made it to dinner before holing himself up in his room, where they debriefed him on what she had managed to pry out of Lisolette. No matter how much they reassured him that it would be fine for him to hang back, he blew off their concerns with an unconvincing shrug and insisted he should be fine by the morning.  

Her nighttime routine went almost identically to the previous one, her phone propped up on any surface that would keep it upright while she listened to any and all discoveries Jimin had made, this time about all of Duane’s terrible financial decisions and reported mental decline. Most importantly noted in series of letters and journals Misuk had just so happened to drop off that morning from the Jung line, detailing all of Hoseok’s great grandfather’s notes on his deteriorating friendship with Duane, and being caught in the middle of the affair and two of his closest friends.  

“Get this: Duane had threatened Youngho with ‘disastrous, eternal consequences’ if he meddled any further into his business. Sounds to me like Duane was the driving force that built a wedge of secrecy and separation between families. Just for what exactly, the reasoning is unclear, but there are a couple theories. One is that his pride was too fragile to accept criticism. He really was the start of the decline in the health of the hotel. He nearly caused it to fall into bankruptcy on more than one occasion, and worked his friends to the bone to clean up after him. He ran the place like a tyrant, demanding the best while giving almost nothing. Here’s a direct quote from Youngho’s writing:  

“I have never seen one like him; he thinks he deserves everything the world has to offer. No, he doesn’t think, he knows. He calls himself a King, only under god. He had always been someone that was entitled to life’s frivolities, but never was he like this. I think he should see a doctor, but Seonggi likes to insinuate that he is possessed by some demon of greed and can only be cured by a priest. Says he can see it in his eyes. I only see an imbecile when I look into them, no demon and certainly no friend. A pilot wearing a blindfold that isn’t even tied, nosediving his plane with everyone on it because he refuses to listen to reason.” 

Anything sound familiar?”  

Y/n rubbed the moisturizer into her cheeks as she listened to Jimin, the gears in her head grinding against one another. “Him being possessed really hits the nail on the head considering our circumstances.”  

“My thoughts exactly. If we are going off the common theory that people who are experiencing some kind of strife are more vulnerable to possession, his case fits the bill. Candida got a hold of you when you were vulnerable and alone and broke you down to nothing–if we are going with the information we have now. Duane was carrying the weight of a financial empire that he wasn’t equipped to handle and crumbled under the pressure and something crawled in, or made a deal with something to keep it afloat. Your dad is one I’m stumped on.”  

“Well...a lot of family had passed away prior to Matilda. Oma died the same year, and then Bear the two years prior. I just don’t know if that would be enough to make him susceptible to something so...” Y/n trailed off. “Intense.”  

“Grief can be a pretty influential force.” Jimin reasoned, though he didn’t sound entirely convinced himself.  

Y/n scrunched up her face as she toyed with the thought. “Yeah, but he...I’m not downplaying the grief, but he handled it really well. He always has. I feel like compared to absolutely life-destroying situations, the way he reacted to it wasn’t anything damning.”  

Jimin clicked his tongue. “I guess I’ll have to think more on it.”  

Y/n stooped down to grab her clothes from the bathroom floor, balancing them on her hip with pursed lips.  A thought stuck her somewhere in the residual steam from her shower. “Now wait...”  

“Something come to mind?”  

“Kind of.” Y/n leaned her weight against the porcelain sink. “Jin had alluded to his change in behavior starting long before my grandmother passed away. But depending on how long he was able to fend it off for...It was barely a year after my dad had officially decided I would be his successor. It’s not a life altering decision to him but...”  

“To whatever is behind this, it was.”  Jimin finished for her. “A change in pattern in response to change in pattern. An eye for an eye.”  

“So it comes after those of us in turmoil, or for making decisions it doesn’t like. Before Duane.” Y/n surmised, chewing at her lip. Just as the thought came, Lisolette’s burning gaze settled over her memory.  

My sister didn’t kill her kids. And she didn’t try to kill you. I know she wouldn’t’ve. 

“Jimin, you didn’t happen to find anything about Candida wanting to take ownership of the Hotel and Estate, did you?”  

Her companion shook his head on her screen. “No, not yet at least. Has Lisolette said anything else to signify that?”  

“No it’s just...Lisolette was adamant that her sister couldn’t have done anything we think she has. And if we want to humor the idea that she’s innocent in any capacity, something must have happened to make her the way she is. She must have done something this entity or curse didn't like. What’s the best way to break down someone who won’t back down?”  

“Well, historically they would weaponize famine and disease, whittle away at their access to resources, or commit physical acts of violence against them or their community.” Jimin listed out, scratching at the back of his head. “Psychological warfare, torture, stochastic tactics...” 

Y/n’s limbs went cold.  

She needed to talk to Lisolette.  

Now. 

“I’ll call you back. Love you.”  

Jimin’s response was clipped by her hitting the button to end the call, rushing out of the bathroom into the hall to toss her clothes in her room. She was outside Yoongi’s in an instant, knocking on his door with the speed of a woodpecker.  

“What now-”  

“Get your shoes on. I can’t wait until tomorrow.”  

Yoongi blinked, disoriented but alert nonetheless, scrambling to shuck on his shoes. “You getting the kid?”  

“Yep,” Y/n started across the hall, pausing midway. “You get the others?”  

Yoongi brushed past her with a grin. “You got it, sweetheart.”  

_________________________________________ 

Tree’s swayed overhead with an audible shutter, the accompaniment to idle chatter and melodious laughter. The summer air warms the skin with a gentle breeze, making it perfect for an afternoon spent outdoors. Adelaide had forgone her skirts for a pair of her brother’s trousers, which made it far more comfortable to lounge on the lawn than it would otherwise.  

The women around her were wonderful company, bright minds with witty humor, stunning in both looks and intelligence each of their own kind. This is where she felt the most at ease. If it were proper, she would love nothing more than to devote her time to any one of them for all eternity much like her brother’s and their own wives. Only she would be a better husband than they could ever be.  

“I thought I’d find you here,” Her brother called out over the low hanging branches of the trees, stepping over its mangled roots. Friedrich paused, taking in the merriment of the atmosphere surrounding them. “Am I interrupting something?”  

“Depends on your intentions, my dear brother.” Adelaide chortled, tossing a cherry his way that he had to duck to dodge.  

Friedrich huffed softly, gesturing to her with the butt of his cane. “I was coming to offer you my condolences.”  

Adelaide rolled her eyes, ripping the flesh from the pit of a cherry and tossing it into her mouth, her fingers coated in the red juices of it from having done it countless times this afternoon. It was crude, but she reveled in the messiness of it. “I have no doubt such feelings are artificial when coming from you.”  

“They are of the utmost sincerity, I can assure you.” Friedrich’s gaze flickered from his sister to the other women loitering about. “I wished to have a moment with you alone.”  

“If you insist,” Adelaide jumped to her feet, sending her friends a wink before sauntering off towards her brother, following him down the path to one of the garden benches. It really was such a lovely day, and the birds seemed to agree so, diving hither and tither between the tree branches and singing sweet songs of summer.  

“I really am sorry,” Friedrich started again, leaning both hands on the head of his cane. “It was a close run between all of us.”  

Adelaide pursed her lips, stretching one arm along the back of the bench. “A close run is what someone forcing a sense of cordiality would say.”  

“You seem to think otherwise?”  

Adelaide shrugged. “They say an intelligent person explores all possibilities, even those deemed impossible. Wearing them thin until that which is most durable survives the test of thorough investigation.”  

Friedrich twisted in his seat to regard her with thinly veiled skepticism. “What are you trying to say?”  

“Oh come on brother, don’t be so obtuse.” Adelaide gave his shoulder a light shove. “The race was anything but thorough. I was at a disadvantage from the start. But please, patronize me with manners and watered down apologies. It doesn’t make up for what is lost.”  

“Are you insinuating that our father did not explore all possibilities, and is therefore unintelligent?”  

“No, quite the opposite actually,” Adelaide looked off towards the front of the Estate. “More so the little fly that buzzes in his ear.”  

“Careful now,” Friedrich pointed towards the door as it opened, “She may hear you.” Their brother Ernst and their mother traipsed down the steps to meet the reporters all waiting with bated breath for the final decision. Their mother preening under all the attention, her hands wound around his bicep as she carted him about like one would a trophy, not a child; all the while beaming brighter than the sun.  

Adelaide glowered at them, unable to control the bitterness that brewed within and soured her mouth. “I can barely stand it.”  

“If I’m being honest, neither can I.” Friedrich relented with a defeated smile. “Sometimes I feel like he must have done something I couldn’t see. Studied in secret or convened with god or the devil himself. I just wish I could know exactly what I lacked.”  

“I guess for you it really is an unknown venture. What I’m lacking is between my legs and my ego.” Adelaide snorted, gripping onto the wooden bench below them. “She wanted it to be you. And in that case, I am sorry for you too. But I am not sorry you lost.”  

Friedrich ignored her jab, shifting closer to get a better view of the parade her mother was putting their brother through. “Not that I wish to allude to any kind of foul play necessarily, but we were in such similar standing. I was sure I had the lead. I just can’t help but wonder what it was he has done.”  

Adelaide tracked her mother’s doll-like smile that glowed under the harsh flash of the hulking cameras, and the claws she had sunk deep into the meat of Ernst’s shoulders. He turned to meet Adelaide’s eyes, completely ignoring Friedrich to give her a warm smile and a brief wave that warped inside of her at Friedrich’s words. “I wonder...”  

Chapter Text

Golden beams from their flashlights sliced through the endless starry sky, bouncing off bristly grasses illuminating the jagged rocks alongside the thin trail behind the barn. The five of them had waited until the house was asleep to tiptoe from the house with backpacks slung over their shoulders and pants tucked into their socks to at least try to protect themselves from ticks and other dangerous insects. Lisolette must have shown her a younger version of the trail, one from her time that wasn’t crawling with the last of the season's scorpions and spindly grasses. It was almost impossible to see, but Y/n was determined. That wild drive for more was creeping beneath her skin and taking her by the shoulders, shouting at her to just keep going.  

 Perhaps her resolve was rich enough for her companions to taste, for no one doubted their blind trek through the night–they didn’t even speak at all. They were on the same page. No one would be leaving the deserted shack until they had answers, and they would do whatever they had to in order to get them.  

“I think I see it,” Jin squinted into the dark, shining his light down the sloping valley. Y/n followed the beam and searched the dark for whatever it was he saw.  

What could have been mistaken as just another star along the horizon was a small porch light, dimmed from the grimy glass, the small windows reflecting the light from their lights back to them.  

“Thank god,” Hoseok huffed, catching his breath for a moment. “I was starting to think we were on the brink of a run in with aliens before we made it.”  

Yoongi snorted. “Aliens? Didn't take you for a believer.”  

“M’not,” Hoseok shrugged, fixing the strap of his backpack that had begun to slip. “But I’m not dumb. if they were to be real this is where they’d be. And I don’t fuck with any of that.”  

“She’s in there. And she has company.”  

Y/n turned to face Jungkook who had spoken next, his eyes darker than the sky and fixated on the shack. He grit his teeth and started down the slope first, one hand offered back to help Y/n down after him. She took it instantly, picking up her pace to the flickering lamp that called them in.  

Once at the door, she could see the structure in all her...dismay. With Lisolette, it had looked like a freshly built shed with a well-kept porch, but in reality, it was tilted at an angle, with holes in the roof and rotted siding. No one had cared to come here for quite some time.  

To be courteous, she knocked on the door a few times, calling out to the spirit inside. “It’s me, Y/n. I hope you don’t mind that I brought some friends with me this time.” With that, she gave the door a gentle shove, it’s hinges weak enough to give into what little pressure she used. The inside didn’t look any better than the outside: floors blanketed with dust; what was left of a small rug on the floor withered to shreds from rain and dirt; a wooden table with mismatched chairs; and a lonely double bed on a wooden frame, stripped of its blankets.  

“Charming,” Yoongi noted with a click of his tongue, walking in first to survey the one room, stopping on the set of chairs and then the bed.  

Stepping across the threshold, Y/n got a feel of the room, her senses buzzing with a presence unseen. With Jungkook’s hand in hers, their abilities intertwined enough to let the faint outlines of shadows be seen: one of them seated at the table watching them enter, and another two to her left hiding beneath the comforters. The latter set much shorter than the one at the table.  

Child sized.  

“I’m going in,” Y/n wasn’t asking for permission, she was simply offering them the heads-up they wanted. Like a well-oiled machine, Yoongi, Jungkook, and Y/n set up their circle in record time, everyone finding a seat on it–except for Jin.  

The eldest looked uncertain, shifting his weight from foot to foot while he took in the stones and candles. Unsure and hesitant.  

“You can sit next to me if you’d like,” Y/n offered up to him, only just now realizing this would be his first seance. “And you don’t have to go in if you don’t want to. Your energy will be helpful enough.”  

He swallowed thickly, taking delicate steps and lowering himself next to her. “I’d prefer to stay here if that’s alright.”  

Yoongi looked up from the lighting the last candle, a lopsided grin taking over his features as he looked up to him. “What, are you scared of a little witchcraft?”  

“Scared?” Jin blubbered for a moment, his ears turning red. “Absolutely not. Just...uncertain.”  

“Ooohhh Jin, how would your grandparents feel seeing you meddling with the satanists, hmm? I guess you’re one of us now too~” Hoseok elbowed the older man, giggling to himself.  

“Satanists?!” Jin squeaked, wide eyes turned to Yoongi.  

Yoongi rolled his eyes and pocketed his lighter. “We aren’t satanists, dipshit.” Yoongi gave a warning look to Hoseok that he swallowed with a grin that said he definitely didn’t care about being scolded. “It’s  witchcraft. Spiritualism. Folk practices. Nothing to be scared of.”  

“That all sounds boring,” Y/n’s lips twisted into a smirk, ignoring Yoongi’s blatant disapproval and wiggling her eyebrows up to Jin. “Whaddya say Jin, you wanna be a satanist with me?”  

He visibly paled as his mouth moved hopelessly to find any word it could.  

“Enough teasing him. Close your eyes and drink your tea before I make you.” Yoongi handed the dropper to Jungkook first, who emptied it without so much as a grimace. His eyes closed with a sigh, as though he was meditating and not traversing realms. Then he was slumped forward, head hung over his chest and his breathing even, his presence lingering out of view somewhere near within seconds.

Y/n could feel him hovering even through the veil, like he was kneeling behind her, ready at a moments notice to catch her if she fell the wrong way. Her own personal psychopomp watching over her as she crossed between worlds.

“You want to go for a field trip?” Yoongi offered it to Hoseok next, dipping the dropper back in to ready the next dose.

“Why not?” Hoseok shrugged, pinching the nob between tow fingers and emptying it into his mouth. He instantly choked on the taste of it, fighting his hardest to keep from spitting out the concoction in a flurry of coughs. Thankfully, he was out like a light before he could really start gagging. 

Seokjin eyed the bottle warily when it was offered to him next, pushing it back towards Yoongi gently. “I really think I’m okay staying here.”

“Suit yourself,” Yoongi grunted, taking his own dose like one would a shot. He barely managed to hand it off to your before he too was swaying into a waking slumber.

Y/n lifted it to her lips, dreading the taste of it. Hesitating more than she should to prepare herself for the transition.

Then something poked her side. Twice.

She cursed, jumping about an inch off the floor and rubbing the sore spot with her palm, glaring at Jin. “What was that for?”

Jin sputtered about, clearly offended. “What was what for? I did nothing!”

“Whatever…” Y/n shook her head, raising the dropper to her lips again only for the fingertips to dig into her side once more, tickling the curve of her waist just enough to earn a chuckle that slipped out against her will. Whirling on Jin, she pointed an accusatory finger at him. “I said quit it!”

Jin furrowed his brows, hands in the air with fingers splayed and shaking his head quickly. “I’m not doing anything! I mean it!” He paused for a second, his nose twitching as he mulled something over in his head. His eyes turned from wide and innocent to a murderous glower. “It’s Hoseok. I’m being framed!”

“He is asleep!” She huffed, using her irritation as a distraction to drop the liquid into her mouth. “No more games, you’re in charge of watching over us.”

“G-Got it.” Jin nodded, back straightening on instinct. “The usual.”

Anything else Y/n had to say morphed into slunking slurs with little coherence. Though as she tipped to the side to rest her head on Jin’s shoulder, she could make out some semblance of an apology from her lips, for with a full visual of his hands relaxed on the tops of his thighs, she felt the soft jab on her mid back followed by the telltale warm giggle of a rather hot-handed friend.

When the world wasn’t trying to chew her up and spit her out on spikes, she was definitely finding a reindeer antler replacement.

“Quit it.”

“Quit what? I haven’t done it in like...ten seconds.”

“You start pushing the boundaries of your powers and you use them to be an absolute ass. Typical.”

Y/n scrunched her eyes to try and ease the dull ache behind them, the voices becoming clearer with each passing second.

“What? You mean like this?” A hand pat at Y/n’s cheek repeatedly.

“’nough.” She grumbled, squinting her eyes through the thin fog of the Parallrealm to glare at Hoseok.

His grin was void of remorse. “Wakey wakey eggs n’ bakey.”

“If you don’t-” Yoongi started to scold him, but another voice beat him to it.

“Are youse all going to sit around with your thumbs up your ass, or will you make this worth my time?” Lisolette’s voice had her jumping up fast enough to collide with Hoseok, their foreheads smashing together hard. Harder than she had ever hit anything in the Parallrealm.

“For fucks sake….” Yoongi groaned, hoisting Y/n up by the elbow and Hoseok by the back of his neck. “We are professionals. Act like it.”

“Lisolette,” Y/n gasped, looking to her with amazement. “I’m so sorry, usually we are a bit more organized-”

“You? Hardly.” Yoongi cut in. “Me? Yes.”

“I thought we were professionals, Mr. Sasspants?” Y/n snarked.

“After that whole scene? Yeah, your license has been revoked.” He eyed Hoseok. “And you aren’t even close to getting one.”

“Who died and made you king?” Hoseok hissed through his teeth, rubbing at the sore spot on his forehead.

“Anyway-” Y/n cut off their argument with a hand on Hoseok’s chest, stepping around “We are here to talk to you about-”

She froze, her eyes catching the two small figures huddled under the comforter of the bed that Jungkook at situated himself on the edge of. He was coaxing them softly, keeping a comfortable distance as to not frighten the two little girls with his appearance.

“Candida, I know.” Lisolette finished for her rising from her chair to stand besides Y/n with both arms crossed. She nodded to the girls with her chin. “My nieces. I keep ‘em here so I can look after ‘em just like she asked me to.”

“She asked you to look after them?” Y/n exhaled shakily at the sight of the girls, one of them tentatively reaching to run a hand through the wisps of black smoke curling around Jungkook’s forearm.

Lisolette scowled. “’Course she did. She was a good mother. Only wanted what was best for them.”

“What happened to her then?” Y/n tore her eyes from the gentle sight before her, turning to Lisolette. “Because not only has she hurt me, but my friend here too. And you seem set on the fact that she hasn’t.” She pursed her lips at Lisolette’s profile. “Did she want the hotel too?”

Lisolette chewed on the question, running her tongue over her teeth. “No.” Y/n deflated, having hoped for a more descriptive answer. “But my other sister did.” Lisolette clicked her tongue, stalking back to the table to lower herself down onto the seat with a tired sigh, heels stacked onto the tables ledge and her seat tipped back on its hind legs. “Sit. I’ve been workin’ all day and my feet are tired.”

_________________________________________

Jungkook was content with the children, crouched near the bed and making shapes with his smokey tendrils to entertain them while the rest of the group took up the empty chairs of the table, waiting for Lisolette to continue. She took her sweet time, arms behind her head that was tipped back towards the ceiling, breathing slow and deep through her belly like she was readying herself for the conversation ahead.

“You’ve lost one sister,” Lisolette started, dropping a hand in her lap to fiddle with the edge of her jacket. “So you can only image what it must be like to lose three of ‘em.”

Y/n shifted in her seat, sharing a look with Yoongi. “I’m sorry for your loss…”

“Don’t say crap you don’t mean,” Lisolette grit her teeth. “I know how you look at them. All of ‘em.”

Hoseok seemed the most uncomfortable, his leg bouncing frantically under the table.

Lisolette let her eyes slide from the ceiling to land on Hoseok, eyeing him like a hunter would their prey. “’specially you, boy. Don’t think I can’t smell it on you.”

Hoseok stilled, his throat visibly bobbing as he swallowed. “Can’t help it.”

“Yeah?” Lisolette tipped her head to the side. “And why is that?”

Hoseok scoffed. “Your lovely sister decided I needed to take a shortcut off a 20 foot catwalk when I was a kid. So excuse me when I say she’s not exactly my favorite person to think about.”

“That wasn’t her,” Lisolette was quick to deflect, hackles already starting to rise.

“You keep saying that, but haven’t shared your evidence.” Yoongi interjected, keeping his tone cool and even. “We are working with the information we have, but if you want us to change our minds, you have to give up what you know. Why don’t we start with the beginning?”

That seemed to neutralize Lisolette for the time being, fixing her intimidation on Yoongi instead. “Fine. I don’t know the whole story, but I’ll tell you the one I got.” She crossed one arm over the other, giving Y/n the experience of seeing her own stubbornness on someone else. Wow, she must get annoying. This was a realization she’d definitely have to keep away from Yoongi.

As if sensing Y/n’s wandering thoughts, Lisolette looked to Y/n as she spoke. “Candida didn’t want no hotel. She wanted to make art. To raise her children and grow old with her husband in their home. She was a spitfire. Intelligent. A diligent mother and painter, who worshiped the family, the estate, and anyone in it. Now Heidi….”

Lisolette rubbed a finger over her bottom lip. “Heidi wanted that hotel more than anything. No one talked about it at home – always made mama upset when we did – but when I was finally old ‘nough to read, it was clear. Her little writings and such were full of how bad she wanted that hotel. And look where that got her.”

“I thought she died of pneumonia?” Y/n’s brows furrowed.

Lisolette huffed. “If you believe all that they put in that ‘historical society’ you’re about as dumb as a fence post. Daddy said the doctor’s were sure it was pneumonia, but none of us believed it. It moved too fast. Came on all the sudden with the coughing and the like. Never spread to anyone else.”

“What did you think it was?” Yoongi spoke next.

“The house. A curse. Mama said it must’ve been because we weren’t prayin’ enough and left too much room for the devil to live comfortably in the house. Said he infested the walls and made them his. Took us weeks of prayin’ to convince her the house was clean.” Lisolette chewed on her cheek, growing hesitant. “And then there was Candida. After her we knew it wasn’t a coincidence. We just couldn’t prove how and why. Well – I think I know the how but no one bothered to listen to me….”

Y/n rested a timid hand on Lisolette’s, giving it a soft squeeze. “My sister might have been murdered by my dad, and it’s something I never would have possibly imagined before this past year.” Y/n’s voice was quiet. Uncomfortable. “So whatever theories you have, our ears are open.”

Lisolette didn’t grab onto Y/n’s hand, but didn’t brush it away either. “What do you know about-” her eyes flickered to the two little girls on the bed, lowering her voice a few decibels “-Ani?”

Y/n sensed the need to whisper, mimicking her apprehensive glance to the girls behind her. “Not much. But she wanted to come here, almost took us all out to get here. I have her dress in my bag-”

Lisolette’s hand shot out to grab your wrist from where it had pointed to the backpack, giving one firm shake of her head. “Don’t. The girls’ll want to see it, and I can’t let them. She’s dangerous.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “Ani was like a sister to ‘em. She was Alain’s girl.”

Yoongi and Y/n shared a confused look over Lisolette’s shoulder. “Alain had another daughter?”

“Alain had another wife,” Lisolette snorted humorlessly. “She passed away during childbirth back in France – or so he said. Candida took a vacation in Europe with Daddy shortly after, and Alain chased them all the way back to Pennsylvania to see her again. Two of ‘em were married pretty quick. They were absolutely smitten with each other. None of us could have ever seen it coming.” She let her eyes catch on Candida’s daughters behind Y/n. “Except for me.”

“Ani died months before the girls. Everyone else had gone to the theater to watch the traveling ballet, but Ani was sick. Just a cold, but it was enough to have her whinin’ about going, so Alain volunteered to stay back with her. About halfway through, one of the maids summoned Candida back to the house – Ani had unexpectedly died in her sleep. She had eaten something earlier that night and just...stopped breathing.” Her gaze hardened. “But I know the signs. I had volunteered as an aid for our boxing team when I was young. Spent enough days bandaging up crooked noses and bludgeoned bones to know when and injury was made by a fist. The marks on her neck were not from no swelling. Not from food at the least. And there was only one person in the house that night.”

Y/n asked her next question. “Why would he kill Ani? What threat was she to him?”

Lisolette sighed, eyes flicking over to the girls. “Say Reaper, why don’t you take the girls outside and let them run around a bit?”

Jungkook paused, stuck between looking from you to the children, but with a reassuring nod from you, he helped the two girls to their feet and ushered them out the door. From across the room, Jin jumped in his seat, whirring around to face the door that had moved on its own to his own eyes. Y/n slid her awareness to Hoseok, tracing his fiddling hands on his lap.

She wanted to compliment him, but Lisolette had already stood with a grunt, shuffling over to a single counter top in the corner and swiping a glass bottle from the top. “Why’d he kill her?” She popped the lid off the bottle and took a quick swig of it. “Who knows.” She licked her lips of the brown liquid, letting it simmer on her tongue. “But he did. And I know he did. Just like I know he killed those girls.”

Y/n swallowed audibly. “You think he killed his daughters?”

“Makes sense, doesn’t it? A dead ex-wife, and then dead children? That can’t be a coincidence.” Lisolette cleared her throat. “The next girl fell down the basement steps and cracked her head on the concrete. Second one was caught in the crossfire when he tried to go after my sister.”

“A pattern of killing their daughters. I can find that easy to follow. But why?” Yoongi pushed further. “Why Hoseok? Why Matilda? Why Y/n?”

“Now that is something only Candida knows,” Lisolette laughed bitterly, taking slow steps back to the table. “But no one cared to give her the chance to say it before they blamed her for everything and sent her off. And by the time I got to her she was…there was nothing left of her. I thought she had lost her mind, so I never bothered to write down nothing she said. I regret that now that I know what I do. I don’t have much else to offer than that.”

“Then lets backtrack,” Yoongi started, rubbing his bottom lip with his middle finger as he thought. “From happy married couple to family annihilator. How did they get from point A to point B?”

“Insanity,” Lisolette clipped, bottle clicking down onto the table. “Alain was convinced that Candida was having an affair in the year leading up to his death, but I know Candida would never. She was too nice. Too compliant. His accusations ate her up inside, and she did just about goddamn everything to prove her innocence. Stopped hanging around the Jeon’s and all her friends for him – even stopped reaching out to me as often – but nothing worked. He had made his mind up.” She took another sip of her drink. “Everyone likes to say she lost her mind, but I’d bet all my money that it was him that slipped. No matter how much crap they tried to peddle me about what she was like before the attack. The look in his eyes the last time I saw him….” She shivered, running her tongue over the front of her teeth. “Evil. Pure evil.”

“Do the girls not remember anything to prove this theory?” Y/n tried.

Lisolette scowled. “No. And even if they did I’d be damned before I ask ‘em. They deserve some peace and quiet, don’t ya think?”

There was a lull in conversation, punctuated by the muted sound of the girls playing a game of chase on the dirt outside and Hoseok’s incessantly bouncing leg.

“I promised Ani that I’d try to summon her here.” Y/n started, catching the murderous glint in Lisolette’s eye before she even spoke.

“Like hell you’ll be doing that. I haven’t spent decades protectin’ my family from your bullshit for you to smear it on our doorstep.”

“But maybe if we work together we can-”

“No,” Lisolette pointed a finger inches away form Y/n’s face. “I’ll be doin’ nothing with all this. I said what I know, and that was the deal. If she tracks her disease through my house it will spread like wildfire. And those little girls-” she pointed to the window shutters “-they will be the first to fall.”

“But what if they won’t?” Yoongi joined in again, always sensing the rise in tension and nipping it in the bud. “What if we can...cure it? Fight of the infection with some kind of antidote.”

“Cure that?” Hoseok made a face of disgust. “I don’t even think all of the hand sanitizer in the world could cleanse her of all...that.”

Yoongi shrugged. “We’ve done it before. Not consciously but...”

Y/n ignored his outburst, meeting Yoongi’s twinkling gaze with curiosity. “….Matilda.”

“Exactly.” Yoongi answered smoothly. “What was the first thing Matilda said to you?”

Y/n furrowed her brows, thinking back to the first week back at the hotel. “A lot of stuff. She wanted me to let her out...Said she thought I forgot about her.”

“And what happened before she started to look normal again?”

Her heart dropped into her stomach at the sudden realization. How could she not have put the pieces together sooner? “I remembered her. Really remembered her.”

“Jimin shared that he learned he could manipulate the soldiers by giving them things they liked. Bear gained strength when we gave him gifts. We had thrown out the idea of your mother fueling them with rage back when we discovered her innocence, but what if we were on the right track – just not the right direction.”

“Someone else is making them angry,” Y/n finished his thought for him. “Exploiting their knowledge for harm.”

“And to fix it we need to counteract it,” Yoongi was starting to get riled up, hands flat on the table as he lent towards her, teeming with excitement. “Find what sore spot this thing is poking at and put a band-aid over it.”

Lisolette was listening intently, arms crossed over her chest. “Alain. It’s him no doubt. Bitter even in death and smack dab in the middle of the family tree. That’s the only thing I could think of to make my sister tussled enough to be violent. And Adelaide must have known this – after they died she went nuts with her folk magic crap. She did it before but after Alain, she took it to another level.”

“Or,” Hoseok broke through, grimacing. “It’s Candida and we were all walking into a trap.”

“It is not!” Lisolette snarled.

“If you are certain of that, than we need your help proving it.” Yoongi put a hand up between them. “Let us bring Ani here–let’s work as a team to try and pry away the bullshit so we can see if our theory even works. Test run it with people that knew her best. This is the only way to try and prove your sister’s innocence.”

Lisolette chewed on her own tongue, glaring at each face around the table.

“She really wanted to come here,” Y/n pushed. “I saw her change with my own eyes at the mere mention of bringing her here. This might be what she needs–to be with people that care about her the most.” She let that hang over them for a minute, then dealt her final blow. “She’s just a little girl. And if she’s a victim of her father’s, she deserves to be saved–deserves some peace and quiet, don’t you think?”

Lisolette growled under her breath, snatching up the bottle and tipping back three large gulps of it, bringing it back down to slam on the table hard enough to rattle it.

“Fine. But I’ll still be usin’ my gun. Just in case your little plan doesn’t work.”

_________________________________________

Yoongi moved like lightning the moment Jin brought him to, darting this way and that to prepare a summoning circle of sorts, the dress tucked into the crook of his arm while he scanned the pages of one of his books one last time. He was muttering to Jin as he went, but Y/n could hear none of it. Without Jimin or Bear here they were without any form of inter-realm communication, and it made a pang run through her, already missing both of them even though it had only been a few days.

They were just so much stronger when they were all together.

But at least now they had Lisolette–who had taken her job in stride, tasked with talking to Ani and getting whatever information she could out of her. If anyone would be able to pinpoint just exactly what was making Ani tick, it would be Lisolette.

Y/n took the few moments they had to prepare to check in on Hoseok, his vacant stare and thinly plastered half smile doing little to soothe her worry. She slid a hand over his knee, the muscles of his leg seizing up under her touch. “How are you doing?”

“Peachy,” He pressed his lips together in a thin smile.

Y/n tipped her head down to look at him, giving him her best ‘don’t fuck with me, I know you’look she could muster.

He sighed, stretching his arms overhead and shaking the hair out of his eyes; averting them from her carefully so he could hide. “S’nothing. Just a little nerves.”

“Why don’t…” Y/n let her fingers trace light patterns on his leg. “Why don’t you watch over the girls outside? We might need Jungkook in here. Plus, you have the best control over the door if we need you to slam it in a demons face.”

The corner of Hoseok’s mouth twitched upwards. “True. I guess I just have magical hands now~” He wiggled his fingers towards her face like a magician and booped the tip of her nose.

In a thoughtless retaliation, Y/n grasped his wrist and brought his palm to her mouth, kissing the skin that was somehow still so warm. “Of course you do. But you’ve always been magical to me~”

Hoseok’s smile dropped, his lips slightly parted with a look Y/n couldn’t discern. Shock? Horror? Disgust?

Whatever it was, it hurt.

An image flashed before her–a snow dusted balcony. Cold noses bumping into each other. Bass thumping through the soles of shoes. Then she saw herself looking up to meet her own eyes a mocking face of disgust and a laugh that shook her shoulders. Uncomfortable. Light-hearted and ignorant to a pain that ravaged through the chest of the viewer with each earth shattering word she uttered.

“Are you sure? This won’t change anything?” Y/n eyed him carefully, her feet already carrying herself back towards the ballroom. 

“I’ll tag Jungkook in.” Hoseok shot up, hand tugged from her loose grasp and tucked into his pocket like he was afraid she’d grab for it again.

“O-okay,” Y/n mumbled, fingers coming up to fiddle with the necklace around her neck.

Lisolette made her presence known again with a click of her tongue, the cloth she was using to polish the metal of her gun stilling.

“What?” Y/n asked, a bit on the defensive side. She felt exposed. She felt rejected. But most importantly, she was confused. She had just seen herself through his eyes. Saw the dress she wore to a New Year’s Eve party.

But she had no memory of ever being on that balcony that night.

Lisolette made a face, shrugging lightly. “Nothin’. Just observing.”

Y/n bit her lip, eyes trained on the door for Jungkook’s return. “With all your time hanging around, do you recall a lot of people...forgetting things...at the Estate?”

“Forgetting things?” Lisolette repeated her question with a scoff. “Everyone forgets things.”

“No I mean like…” Y/n trailed off when Jungkook’s head poked around the door, eyes white and searching for her. “Nevermind.” Whatever she was trying to figure out between her and Hoseok would have to wait.

Yoongi had finished what he needed to upon Jungkook’s return, writing a message to them on a slip of torn notebook paper and placing it on the table in front of them.

Crinkle the paper three times when you’re ready. X.

“Is Hoseok on standby?” Y/n turned to Jungkook, his proximity startling her when their noses bumped together.

He nodded, pearlescent eyes studying her features in the dim light. “He’s ready. Are you?”

“Born ready.” Y/n bumped their foreheads together quickly. “We got this.”

Testing out Hoseok’s influence, Y/n pinched the paper between two fingers and held it suspended a few inches above the table. Jin was visibly disturbed, wide eyes following it’s floating path.

She wrapped her fist around it, squeezing three times.

Yoongi held a thumbs-up above his head, mouth running a mile a minute to recite words from his journal.

Lisolette swung the butt of her gun over her shoulder, aiming the barrel at the center of Yoongi’s makeshift summoning circle. “Youse better be right about this or I’ll whoop every last one of you. I ain’t afraid to send you to hell in a handbasket.”

A light beamed from the middle of the circle, trickling around the edges like water to complete a full protective ring. It split the floor open within its confines, revealing a pit of nothingness that hummed with power and simmered like water. The ring acting like a barrier between them and what waited for them on the other side of the whirling opening.

All was quiet.

The blackness crested with black watery waves; a shadow lurking beneath the surface, stilling and patient beneath the dress that floated upon it.

Waiting.

She took in a breath.

Lisolette’s finger twitched on the trigger.

Jungkook tensed besides here, fists wrapped in coiling smoke that rattled like snake tails.

Yoongi’s mouth stopped moving.

A hand broke from the surface, clawing at the wooden floors below to hoist the rest of it’s body out. Ani’s black eyes bobbed out, melting down into the water until Y/n couldn’t tell which was what. She moved quickly, crawling limbs kicking and flailing up and onto the wooden floor, heaving herself up inch by inch.

Jaws snapped. Teeth sliced through the flesh of her own lips. Her fingers sunk into the wood until it cracked and splintered, spitting out foam and bubbling black saliva from her mouth; a rabid beast unleashed upon a supple flock.

Crouched on her knees, Ani heaved, spine bent towards the floor. The black churning mass soaked back into the floor from whence it came, disappearing beneath her knees that trembled against the wood.

“Ani-”

“Don’t speak to me. Not you.” She peered up through the curtain of her hair. “You enrage me.”

Yoongi must have said something to catch her attention, neck snapping to look at him. She hissed. She wiped her forearm across her mouth to sop up at the mess on her chin. She listened.

Searching through the space, Yoongi squinted towards Lisolette and pointed to her, his mouth making the shape of her name.

“I see her…” Ani’s words rattled from her throat, cocking her head back to look at her aunt, taking in both her and the gun over her shoulder in.

Lisolette’s finger moved like she was going to squeeze the trigger.

“She’s a traitor!” Ani threw herself at Lisolette with a blinding speed, colliding face first into the force field of salt and flying back to the opposite end, landing in a crouch. She growled, launching herself forward repeatedly like a starved animal. After nearly a dozen attempts to break through her cage, Ani slumped to the floor, defeated.

The gun inched lower, Lisolette’s breath coming out in even puffs and her jaw clenched. “I am no traitor, devil.”

“You are!” Ani’s body shook.

“I’m only here to help.” Lisolette scanned Ani’s face carefully, catching on the rotted flesh and punctured eyes. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Good God almighty Anita, what’d he do to you?”

Ani let out some sort of broken cry, a harrowing concoction of sorrow and indignation. “H-he has not harmed me. He has saved me. You will see. He will find you too.”

“I hope to hell he does,” Lisolette rebutted. “I’ll have a bullet in his back before he steps a foot on my property.”

“No!” Ani sobbed, hand coming to grasp at her chest.

“You need to let go of ‘em Ani. Let me help you. If you can do that, I might think about lettin’ you stay.”

Ani froze. “You want me...You want me to stay?”

Lisolette pondered her response carefully, tasting each word before she let them slip. “I’m sure the girls’ll love to have you around. They’re just outside–can you hear ‘em playing?”

Quiet took over the room.

From it, the muffled sound of children’s laughter could be heard over the crickets, their feet pounding into the soul as Hoseok could be heard chasing them around the front.

Ani struggled to her feet, stumbling blindly towards the sound. “My sister’s...are they really there?”

“It is,” Lisolette nodded. “You can see them if you’d like. But only if you let go of him.”

For one prolonged second of peace, Ani seemed to shift. Her skin plumping on her cheeks. Her hair winding into thick strands that gleamed gold in the dim light. A few more staggered steps forward and she’d be free to run across the loose dirt and spindly grasses.

Lisolette let her gun fall into her lap, nozzle pointed at the floor and hand out stretched for the shimmering barrier between them. “It’s alright Ani. I can watch over you here.”

Ani’s veins throbbed with black blood, bumping out over her skin as they gorged themselves with the madness that rushed through them, crawling up her neck and her cheeks until she resembled a porcelain doll whose face had been smashed on the pavement.

“I won’t let you take her from me, you conniving bitch!”

Ani’s voice dropped and octave lower, a true demon using her as no more than a vessel to spit it’s rage out on the woman in front of it. The sockets of her eyes bubbled and churned, sizzling the skin it dripped down upon and pulling screams from Ani’s throat. Her little fingers clawing into the flesh to hastily wipe it away.

Her head whipped up to implore Lisolette, her body shuddering. “Don’t listen to him! I want to be free! Help me Lizzy!” Her neck twisted again, her jaw unhinging. “Listen to me! I hate you! I will rip the flesh from your bones and lick them clean. Make you watch as I do the same to every man, woman, and child on these grounds when I am free of this trap.”

“Don’t listen to that voice Lisolette! He’s fibbing. He knows we are winning! Keep going.” Unable to bear watching the scene any further, Y/n leapt forwards, crossing the thin barrier between them and skidding to a halt in front of Ani. With her face cradled between her hand, she shook her fervently.

“Look at me–Wake up. Your sister’s are waiting for you. They need you out there. They miss you so, so much. He took your lives, don’t let him take this too.”

Never before had Y/n thought it would be possible to look both so frightened yet so utterly violent.

Her eyes started to form from the bubbling mass, rounding out of the empty sockets and brimming with tears. “I do not want to hurt you. He makes me want to.”

“I know,” Y/n soothed her fingers along her temple, brushing back a clump of hair that had glued itself down to her skin. “You are being so brave.” Tears burned at the back of her own eyes, her lip quivering. She reminded her so much of her sister.

“I’ll kill you!” Ani’s fingernails scratched along Y/n’s throat, searing where they made contact–but Y/n refused to let go. Jungkook appeared beside them, hand coming to rest gently above Ani’s eyes so she could no longer see. The little girl thrashed about, breath quick and terrified. “Lizzy! I am scared! It is so dark...”

Y/n began to cry, shaking her head hopelessly at Ani and fighting to keep her hands firmly planted on her cheeks. “You won’t kill me. Lizzy is right here. I’m right here. We’re not going anywhere.” She regarded Jungkook adamantly, speaking more to him than the girl. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here.”

Jungkook didn’t fight her on it. He didn’t even blink. He slid his other hand up the back of Ani’s small head and cradled it tenderly. The touch loving and kind. “Anita Morel, follow the sound of my voice. Follow my command Anita. Come to me. Show me where he is and I will set you free.”

Y/n heard the sound of Lisolette’s boots on the floor, quick and sharp. Then the sound of the door creaking on its hinges–the call of her voice. Resolute. “You boy! Bring those girls here right this minute!”

“I don’t know where he is!” Ani sobbed, grasping desperately for Jungkook’s wrist.

Jungkook exhaled slowly through his nose. “You do. Show me.”

“I’m trying!”

A hoard of footsteps came to a tumbling halt on the stoop, Their curious figures looming behind them.

“Maddie! It’s Ani!” A high-pitched voice squealed.

The younger one of the two cheered, chanting her name clumsily.“Ani! Ani! Ani!”

Ani began to convulse, dropping to her knees before them, whimpering.

Jungkook leveled with someone over Y/n’s shoulder. “I need your help.”

“Me?” Hoseok croaked.

“Hurry!” Y/n twisted to glare at him over her shoulder. “She’s hurting! We need you!”

Hoseok took one look at the crumpled little girl and Y/n’s distraught features before weaving through the children and lunging to land next to Y/n on the floor, hands suspended above Ani awkwardly. “What do you need me to do?”

“Help me find him.”

Y/n grabbed Hoseok’s hesitating hand and stacked it on top of Jungkook’s, pressing it down tightly.

The room instantly melted away, the cabin and her friends stripped form her sight like peeling wall paper. Now she was running–no, she was watching someone else run from her perch on the hill. Their legs short and clad in scratchy white tights littered with grass stains and mud.

Sunlight snuck through loose tree boughs, warming the skin of the little girls that played a game of chase on the lawn in front of the Estate. Y/n knew this place–recognized the mind-numbing lack of time, the liminal feeling of never quite being where she thought she was. The same scene of the girls tagging each other playing over itself, never stopping and never reaching the end.

Ani loomed next to her, watching but never joining; folded in on herself, knees drawn to her chest while a cloud of black hovered around her head, whispering into her ear like a thousand snakes all hissing obscenities.

“They do not want you. If they did they would have asked you to play. They will always leave you behind. They don’t need you anymore.”

“Ani, they are waiting for you. Don’t you feel them?” Y/n tried, but she did not budge. Her stare distant and unfocused.

“Ani, can you hear them?” Jungkook’s voice echoed through the air, rumbling the trees. “They are calling for you.”

“Aniiiiiii~”

“Ani I am almost as tall as you now!”

“There are really, really big horses here,” The younger voice giggled, a slight lisp catching her tongue. “They run so fast! But maybe you can beat them…”

The cloud thundered, recoiling back from Ani with a crack of mounting whispers, angry and desperate.

“I found you.” Jungkook breathed out in a sigh of relief.

His energy poured down around them, bounding over the grass with heavy paws and seizing the cloud up with its teeth, swallowing it up and leaving no room for it to exist. Jungkook’s energy so strong it took up whatever space was left between them.

Ani blinked up to Y/n, the memory of the girls running on the grass dissipating before their eyes.

“I want to go home.”

Y/n came back to the cabin with a surge forward, her arms and hands empty, catching onto Jungkook’s chest to steady herself.

“Where-” Y/n looked around, the room empty save for her and Jungkook. “Where are they? Where is Ani?”

“Outside.” He answered plainly, running a finger over the burn on her throat, his touch like a soothing balm. “Playing.”

The night air was crisp, the sky vast and punctured with a thousand stars. Beneath them in a blur of laughter and whipping dresses three girls chased one another across the plains, skipping over waist high grasses and leaping over stones.

Lisolette was seated on the porch step, while she supervised them, chewing on the inside of her cheek pensively.

Yoongi and Jin were watching the dirt kick itself up, Yoongi tracing their paths with a pointed finger, leaning over to Jin to speak of what he could see.

There was no sign of Hoseok though. Not in the house, not near the others–she couldn’t see him anywhere.

Urgently she spun on Jungkook, panic-striken. “Where’s Hoseok? Is he okay?”

The answer to her question came from the man himself releasing a shout, bursting up from the grass where he had been hidden while the girls scattered in all directions from him, squealing with delight. He took off faster than Y/n had seen him run in years, light on his feet, nimble movements catching up to them easily to capture one in his grip before carting them off to his ‘base’ in the shrubbery. It looked to be some game of cops and robbers that they had dragged him into. And he was enjoying every second of it–beaming brighter than the night sky and laughing freely.

“She’s doin’ alright,” Lisolette grunted, spitting at the ground below her feet. “Sweet as a peach. Just like I remember.” She pat at the empty spot next to her, keeping her gaze trained on the children. “Sit.”

Y/n lowered herself next to Lisolette, the relief finally starting to breakthrough the residual adrenaline.

“I suppose I owe youse a thanks. Never would’ve believed it could happen if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.” Lisolette paused, clearing her throat. “You all are one clever bunch, huh?”

“You could say that,” Y/n drifted off, smiling to herself at the scene before her.

Lisolette scoffed. “I’ll say. Stubborn too…”

“Always. Must be a Wörner thing.”

Lisolette offered a humored exhale, peering at Y/n carefully. “Suppose it is.” She lifted her eyes up to the sky, fiddling with her gloves. “I wager you’ll be headed home soon. Keep trying on that bull-headed path of yours to fix everything.”

“I have no other choice,” Y/n shrugged. “Now that I know who we are up against, we can focus all we have on Alain. Figure out what possessed him to get to this point and set everyone free of him”

“That devil,” Lisolette scowled, shaking her head disappointingly. “Knowin’ he has my sister doin’ his dirty work for him…I can’t stand it.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“Will you?” Lisolette challenged. “Will you help her, or let’er stay trapped with him? None of y’all seem excited to see her again.”

“If she is innocent, then we help her.” Y/n rested a hand on Lisolette’s knee. “From one grieving sister to another, I’ll do what I can to get her out of this. To get everyone out of this. For good.” A smile toyed at the edges of her mouth. “And hey, who knows–maybe you guys will all be able to come up for a visit again. See the house, visit the family. Check out all the cool new upgrades…”

“Now you’re testin’ it,” Lisolette’s mouth curved up at the edges.

Jungkook’s hand slid over her shoulder, running a thumb over the phantom tension there. “We should get back.”

“Right,” Y/n nodded, clambering to her feet.

Lisolette called the girls over with a whistle, urging them to say their goodbyes. Yoongi seemed to read the room, nudging Jin inside to begin waking them up.

The children all pouted, taking turns wrapping Hoseok’s legs in a tight hug with fat tears rolling down their cheeks. Ani embraced Y/n first, burying her face in her stomach.

“I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Y/n released her. “What matters is that you stay strong from here on out.”

Ani gave her a toothy grin, sliding over to Hoseok next, squeezing him so tight Y/n hear him wince. “And thank you Mr. Jung. I liked playing with you.”

“You weren’t too bad yourself.” He pat her head affectionately.

“It’s a shame we won’t see much of each other. I do wish you would have married my new mother and given me more brother’s and sister’s to play with!”

Hoseok choked, sputtering out syllables with no real meaning. Y/n couldn’t help but laugh at his face, hand coming up to stifle it. “Th-that’s funny kid. Your brain is probably all scrambled up. I’m Hoseok, not your Mr. Jung.”

Ani furrowed her brows. “I am not confused, and it is no joke. I know your face.So did Papa. That is why papa was so angry.”

Y/n’s laughter died in her throat, convinced she had misheard her. “What?”

Ani looked around at the group, indignation flashing in her eyes. “They told him that the Jung’s and the Wörner’s were going to have a baby! And Mama was the only lady left in the house.”

The silence was so suffocating, Y/n could have sworn she could hear the horses hooves kicking at the ground back at the ranch. “Who told him that?”

Ani huffed as though the answer was obvious. “The prophet.”

Hoseok’s dull smile fell entirely, body going rigid.

“When!” Y/n tossed aside all her composure, gripping Ani by the shoulder’s and shaking them desperately. “When did he say this would happen?”

“He never said when. Only that it would. It was the only thing Papa could talk about in there. You made him so mad.” Ani began to dance around, skipping in circle around Hoseok while singing cheerfully to the tune of ‘He’s a Jolly Good Fellow’: “Mister Jung and Ms. Wörner’, bring me my baby brother. Mister Jung and Ms. Wörner, bring me my baby sister~”

This was a nightmare. Her endless singing making Y/n woozy, or maybe it was the rush of bitter mint and herbs that started to coat her tongue that had knocked her off kilter. But what truly sent her careening was how Hoseok looked at her. Eyes wide and utterly horrified.

Y/n could see the reflection of herself in them looking equally scandalized. Memories came flooding into her mind. His mother first and foremost.

“Yes you. So here is what is going to happen tonight Y/n.” Misuk brushed a few crumbs from the table thoughtlessly, then folded her hands over each other to give her that same authoritative stare. “When my son comes back with your food, you will have a few bites and then you will say that you feel sick. Upset stomach or whatever you decide. After that, you will return to your room, share your goodbyes–and then you must never speak to him again. Do you understand?”

Her own mother, admitting that Hoseok had been targeted.

And then lastly, the memory of her in the closet–the two of them so young and naive. The closet that leads to the basement of all places. A shared innocent moment of childish curiosity observed by a monster lurking below. The Devil.

The Devil, as Lisolette calls him.

Y/n could feel her senses disintegrating. Their gazes locked at a stand still, conclusions being drawn simultaneously to the tune of that horrid song.

Weeks after that idiotic kiss, Hoseok tumbled off that catwalk. Shoved off by the Devil’s wife.

“I’m sorry,” Y/n’s lip quivered, her body starting to reconnect with her soul, its chest quaking with how hard it held in a sob. “It was my fault. I should have said no.”

Hoseok said nothing, vanishing moments before she did, leaving her stranded and alone in her regret.

_________________________________________

She awoke with a slur of his name, rolling over with the coordination of a rag doll, hands outstretched to the empty air where Hoseok should be. He was already on his feet, taking the room in quick strides and stumbling out into the night.

Too weak to hold her own head up, her neck gave out, forehead colliding with the ground with another attempt to call for him.

“Take it easy tiger,” Yoongi chided, his sarcasm drying up in an instant with one look at her current state. “What the fuck happened to you in the thirty goddamn seconds I wasn’t looking?”

Y/n shoved him off, limbs feeling boneless and gelatinous as she fought to rise to her knees. “No time. ’Need to...Need to talk to ‘im.”

And she was up, crawling towards the door and using the door knob to hoist herself up. It took multiple seconds of her forcing her eyes to blink for her vision to fully focus in on where Hoseok stood, bent at the waist with his hands on his knees, trembling like he was trying not to vomit onto the dirt.

“W-wait,” Y/n called after him, taking the steps on at a time but stopping in the middle to drape herself over the railing for support, the world spinning.

“Not in the mood,” He muttered, coughing into his arm.

“Hoseok please just–let’s just talk about it for a minute.”

“Don’t wanna.” Hoseok tried to right himself, using his sleeve to wipe at the cold sweat that had built up on his forehead.

She grit her teeth. “I don’t care if you ‘don’t wanna’. We have to.”

“Have to what?” Hoseok laughed cynically, hands tossed up in surrender. “Talk about the fact that I might have almost been murdered based off of some dusty old prophecy? For nothing?”

“It wasn’t for nothing! It makes sense that-”

“No! It doesn’t!” Hoseok groaned, fisting his hands into the roots of his hair and growing paler by the second. “Just-Just let me breathe. I feel like shit, I’m tired, my body fucking hurts–And I’ve got over a mile trek back to a bed and pain meds to think about all of this.”

All that could be heard was their ragged breathing, the creatures of the night even taking their distance from the altercation.

Y/n gulped around the ball at the base of her throat, the tears she fought to hold back falling freely. “I’m sorry.”

Hoseok cast a sideways glance at her. “Don’t be. There’s nothing you could’ve done.”

She crept down the stairs, rounding the handrail to lean up against the porch ledge to catch her own breath, pressing the heels of her palms into her eyes. Distantly, she could hear Jungkook filling the other’s in with a low voice, catching the words ‘Prophet’ and ‘Children’ through the opened door.

Before her thoughts could spiral any further, Hoseok plopped himself next to her with a sigh, keeping his attention on his sneakers.

“They must be idiots,” Hoseok chuckled under his breath, nudging you with his elbow in an effort to lighten the mood. “ The ghosts I mean. They shoulda known better than to think that’d be us, right?”

Y/n knew he was trying to joke around, but it hurt. The blade of the assumption nestling right between two of her ribs and stabbing straight through the heart. “What do you mean?”

“You know...marriage. Kids. All that sappy stuff.” Hoseok shrugged, his leg beginning to shake, close enough to hers that the fabric of his pants kept brushing against her thigh repeatedly.

“I don’t know…” Y/n felt smaller and smaller with each word he said. “I don’t think they are idiots.”

Hoseok laughed again, this time nervous and shaky. “I guess they aren’t, but their ideas seem pretty dumb.”

Y/n couldn’t help the small sound that escaped her mouth. Her hands coming up to hide her face from him as she broke.

“H-hey,” Hoseok twisted to look at her, an uncomfortable smile taking hold of his face and holding it hostage. “Didn’t think the image of us being together would be so gross you’d cry.”

Joking. He was still joking. Why couldn’t he just see it?

“I don’t think it’s gross! That’s the problem…” Y/n mumbled out. She stayed hidden behind her hands, unable to risk looking at his face.

His leg ceased its movements against her thigh. “What do you mean?”

“I like you Hoseok! More than a friend. More than a housemate. I think about doing things to you that aren’t what friends are supposed to want! And I’d be lying if I said the idea of being together and having kids of our own doesn’t make me feel...whole.” She leapt to her feet, scrubbing at her cheeks furiously. “And I get it, it’s fucking weird. I’m weird for wanting more. I’m weird for loving everyone else but still wanting you.”

Y/n let a loud, self-hating groan tear from her chest. “And I feel like shit. I feel like my greed and selfishness damned your fate. If I would have just said no to kissing you that day in the basement closet none of this would have-”

“Wait, hit the brakes,” something she must have said woke Hoseok from his stupor, for he jumped up to grab Y/n by the shoulders, spinning her around to face him with a level of seriousness she rarely ever saw from him. “What about the basement closet?”

Y/n furrowed her brow, her momentum faltering. “…when we played hide and seek with Jin and the others, a couple weeks before you broke your leg. We hid in the closet together and you asked if we could kiss.”

Hoseok’s gears were turning, shaking his head in small movements of denial, mouth struggling to pinpoint what he wanted to say. “Y/n, I never kissed you in a closet. You kissed me on the hotel terrace. In high school. New Year’s Eve. Ringing any bells?”

Now it was her turn to be flabbergasted. “What?” Y/n snorted. “Never in my life did I–Ohmygod!….” Both hands came up to cover her mouth with a gasp, a wave of bile rushing up her throat and into her mouth. “I’m gonna be sick.”

True to her word, Y/n shoved him out of the way to hurl the remnants of her dinner in the tall grass, her mind just replaying the same image of the mimic parading around in their skin. Kissing them.

Hoseok stood around, looking unsteady and unsure as to what was happening. “I don’t-what do you mean-”

“We never kissed!” Y/n shouted at him when she had paused enough for a breath, her stomach still convulsing but there was nothing left for it to empty.

Hoseok made a face. “That’s not possible, we-” he somehow lost even more color than before. “Oh.”

In seconds he was next to her, losing what little control over his previous nausea he had thought he had.

When they both finished, he looked over to her, and laughed. reaching a state of absolute delirious. “This is so fucked up.”

“Beyond fucked up,” She agreed, his laughter infectious.

“So,” He heaved in a breath, dropping to a crouch to rest his arms on his knees. “What now?”

She mimicked his position, wiping her mouth. “I dunno. What do you want to do?”

He shrugged while picking at the loose threads of his pants. “It doesn’t really matter what I want now, does it?”

“Of course it matters…” Y/n reassured him, a hand on his knee. “Tell me.”

His demeanor shifted again, the muscles of his jaw ticking while he tucked his tongue in his cheek. “I want you. Always have.”

“Then...We figure it out. We all do.’

“All?” Hoseok whispered.

“All of us,” Y/n nodded, letting her thumb rub circles onto his quad. “You. Me. Jungkook. Jimin. Namjoon….” She trailed off, leaving the end of her sentence open ended. “We figure it out. Together.”

He shook his head slowly. Like the action physically hurt him. “No. No We.” He looked through her then, eyes glinting in the low light. “I want you. Not…” His gaze shifted over to the open door where Jungkook was hovering, head poking around the ledge despite Yoongi’s attempts to keep him away from it.

Y/n’s brain went numb. “Right. That’s…”

“I’m sorry.” Hoseok’s voice broke, and in that moment Y/n realized he was crying, a single tear slipping down his cheek that he caught quickly with the back of his hand. “I can’t. I don’t think I can...I can’t be a second choice. Not after all these years thinking I wouldn’t even be your sixth.”

“That’s fine.” It wasn’t. “I won’t ever force you to do anything you don’t want to.” At least that much was true.

Something changed in his expression, his palm coming to rest atop her hand. “No–it’s not–I really like you. More than that. Don’t think I don’t.”

“I know that, it’s fine. Really.” Y/n tugged her hand out from beneath his, already missing the warmth of his touch. “I can’t just expect you to be okay with it. That’s not fair to you.”

It took everything in her not to take it as rejection. It was a complex feeling that she had no guideline for, no resource for navigating. How does one even begin to process heartbreak, let alone justify it, while simultaneously being in three happy relationships? Was she truly this selfish?

Her rescuer came in the form of a heavy sigh and soft-soled converse thudding into the dirt, a gruff voice calling to them. “Jesus Christ you two. You better not have a stomach bug. I swear if you get me sick…”

“It’s just after shocks. Calm down, drama queen.” Y/n stood up to brush passed him, beelining for one of the back pack on his shoulders and fishing out two water bottles, wordlessly tossing one to Hoseok and keeping the other for herself.

Each sip had her going through the motions. Bring the bottle up. Pour it in. Swish it around. Spit.

She could barely look at him. Not because she hated him, but because she hated herself.

What would this do to their friendship now?

Yoongi’s words were nothing but a senseless drone in her ears. The walk back nothing but a blur of navy skies and ticking grass. A smile to Yoongi as he excitedly rambled on about their next steps. A quiet laugh at Jin and Hoseok’s bickering, the two of them shoving each other here and there. Jin asked her a question and she couldn’t even remember what she said to him.

She should be so fucking happy right now.

They made real, solid progress. They had an answer–a real answer about who and what they were up against. When they got home they could hit the ground running. Everything she had every wanted could be hers by Christmas. All of this terror would be over.

Hoseok laughed, a boisterous sound that had her insides churning again. Her jaw shook and her teeth ached with how much effort it took not to cry.

Had she always made him feel less than?

Did he think she was disgusting being with so many people?

If she was different–if she had known better, would things be different?

Jungkook made a sound in the back of his throat, hand tangled with hers giving a quick tug. “You okay?”

Fuck. Jungkook could probably see it written all over her face. So could Yoongi. She needed to pull her shit together before what was going on with Hoseok bled out into her other relationships.

Her smile was tight. “I’m fine. Overwhelmed.”

Jungkook frowned, tugging her closer to his side and pressing a chaste kiss to the side of her forehead. It was a simple gesture, but it was worth more than a thousand words to her. He was still here. He was still in love with her. All of her.

Embers started to stick to her insides like glue, fostering a warmth deep in her belly that ebbed out into her skin.

She swung their conjoined hands back and forth, her mood brightening like the sun had just emerged from dense gray clouds. What had she even been upset about again? She spun around, sandwiching his face between her palms and pressing a firm kiss to his mouth.

Just as she anticipated, the action sent the sparks inside of her spraying up and outwards, satisfying the sudden urge for more.

Jungkook looked taken aback when she pulled away, if not even a bit flustered, his cheeks dusted pink and gaze nervously fluttering over her shoulder at the others retreating bodies. “W-what was that for?”

“Just wanted to.” Y/n grinned up to him, pecking his lips a few more times for good measure. “You look hot when you fight demons. You know that?”

His face warmed to the touch beneath her hands. God she loved making him flustered. All she wanted to do was shower him with compliments and watch him squirm.

Bumping their foreheads together, she bit her lip, hands inching into his hair. “Stay with me tonight?”

Jungkook nodded vigorously, holding himself back from leaning into her mouth again.

Giggling, she hauled him forward with a iron grip on his wrist, the two of them running ahead–her smiling like a maniac and him bright red–leaving the rest of them in the dust.

Why worry about Hoseok when she was with Jungkook right now? They were still friends, it wasn't like she was losing him or anything. After all they had plenty of reasons to celebrate tonight. And she knew just how she intended to do so.

_________________________________________

Sunlight filtered through the curtains, pouring its warm rays down onto her bare skin, waking her instantly. Jungkook was already awake, his side of the bed empty, yet still warm from the imprint of him.

Stretching her arms over her head she winced at the soreness in her muscles, rolling her wrists and twisting her spine to try and loosen up some of the tension, earning a hoard of cracks and pops. Checking the analog clock next to her, she noted that she had only been asleep for what really was few hours, but felt like an eternity.

With what little sleep she had, she was ready to move.

She clicked on her phone, intending to look for any messages from Jungkook and his whereabouts, but upon unlocking it she froze, scanning the screen.

[To Hoseok ❌💍❌]

[Y/n] 3:02 am: Did you get your meds okay?

[Y/n] 3:10: Do you need anything before I go to bed? I can grab it for you while I’m up.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. He hadn’t even read it.

It didn’t matter, she told herself with gritted teeth. He wasn't feeling well, and he had a lot to process last night.

She wasn't going to let it sour her mood. Today felt like it was going it was going to be an amazing day, something about the pep in her step and her restless nature told her so. They could enjoy one of their last few days at the ranch knowing that they were a breath away from nipping all of the crazy ghost shit in the bud. He just needed time to process it all, and she needed time to resituate their relationship back to being just friends. That shouldn’t be hard–she had convinced herself they were only friends for decades. This should be a piece of cake.

Tugging on a pair of sleep shorts and one of Jungkook’s shirts, she padded out into the hall to the shared bathroom, loading her toothbrush up and pondering her morning out the small boxy window that overlooked the fields.

It was beautiful. Had she even appreciated this the day prior at all? The cerulean blue skies and glowing sun breathtaking enough to have her stop and drink in their beauty. Bugs flitted by, cows grazed their noses over the grass to sniff out their next bite, and what little clouds were there were all massive sculptures of vapor that forced her eyes to slow in order to take in all of its magnificence. Horses galloped much closer to her window, their manes flowing in the wind much like their dark-haired rider that steered them-

Her tooth brush slipped out of her mouth and clattered to the floor.

Fuck.

Yoongi’s dark waves slipped down from the hat he held to his head with one hand, the other guiding his steed around the pen like he was born with the skill. Sweat clung to his skin, his grin toothy and cocky, like a devilish cowboy they’d make films about.

It was essential for her to be out there stat–for research purposes obviously. She had always wanted to learn how to ride….

Shucking on a pair of her thickest pants she had packed and a sports bra, she settled for one of the thin shirts Jungkook packed to cover her arms from the sun, but kept it unbuttoned for air. There would be no way she would be able to stand the heat of the sun and the way just a glimpse of Yoongi on horseback was burning her up.

After a quick look for Jungkook in the kitchen, her search came up empty, instead scuttling out into the yard now intending to ask Yoongi if she’d seen him. She spotted Jin and Hoseok leaning up against the fence closest to her, watching Yoongi speed around the other side at a safe distance.

“Hey!” Y/n sped up to them, using a hand to block out the unforgiving rays of sun. “Have you seen Jungkook?”

Hoseok turned to make a joke, stopping short after giving her a quick once over, words coming up dry.

Jin lit up at the sight of her, cheeks taking on a faint pink from the sun. He nodded towards the other side of the pen. “Yoongi is showing him the ropes.” Tipping his sunglasses down to the base of his nose, he squinted at her face. “You didn’t put sunscreen on.”

“I did,” Y/n lied through her teeth.

Jin raised a pointed brow in her direction, gesturing to her with two fingers towards the fence. “Nice try. Come here.”

“Jiiiiiinnn,” She whined, complying with his orders and hopping up on the wood, ignoring the way it sent a tingle up her spine. “I don’t even need sunscreen. I don’t burn.”

He feigned a gasp, tone dripping in sarcasm. “I didn’t know you had the power to stop UV rays! Here ye, here ye! I’ve found a witch!” Reaching into his pocket and pulling out a travel sized bottle, he flicked open the bottle, smearing a large amount on his fingers and stepping closer. “Close your eyes.”

She listened immediately, pouting. “It’s gonna make me look stupid and greasy.”

“Hush.” Jin commanded, the pads of his fingers swiping the cream onto your cheeks and nose, taking extra care to rub it over your forehead and ears. Her knees kept brushing against his waist, parting slightly on instinct so he could have easier access to the back of her neck.

She felt Hoseok’s gaze burning into the side of her face, but didn’t give into the want to look. It was going to take her time to get rid of her crush, which meant she’d have to take a bit of space until she was certain she wouldn’t do anything stupid. Respecting his wishes was her upmost priority.

That was until she heard the smallest of scoffs. An aggravating, nerve grinding noise that was barely audible.

Just low enough not to hear it unless she wasn’t already straining her ears to listen for him. Looking at him through her lashes, she saw him shake his head ever so slightly to himself, lifting the backwards baseball cap on his head to run a hand through his hair.

Sweat stuck where hands met the wooden beam at her sides, her nostrils flaring. What was wrong with him? Did he expect her to stop being affectionate with everyone else just because he chose not to? He could’ve had this if he wanted to. He was the one turning it away. Not her. Never in her life had she ever turned him away. Never had he bothered to communicate how he was feeling either. And Y/n refused to be blamed for him feeling like he struck out when he never even took up the plate to bat to begin with.

“All done,” Jin chirped, snapping the lid closed on the sunscreen.

She popped her eyes open, zeroing in on his face with pursed lips, like she was inspecting his strong jaw or the soft slope of his nose. Because she was. But not in the way she needed to make it seem like she was.

“It looks like your glasses rubbed some of it off your nose, Jin.” Y/n hummed, grabbing the bottle from his hands and using her thumb to pry open the lid. “Let me fix it.”

A noise of surprise cracked out from his throat as she hooked a finger in one of his belt loops and pulled him closer to take up the space between her parted thighs. With wide eyes, he watched her slide the glasses and clip them to sports bra, dabbing some sunscreen on her hands and swiping it onto the “messed up” spots–which were totally real and not an excuse to keep touching his skin. Jin was besides himself, mouth stuck open and blinking rapidly, neck and ears a deeper shade of rose.

“There we go~” Y/n unclipped the glasses and slid them back on his face, tousling his hair a bit for good measure. “Handsome.” Waving the bottle back and forth, she turned to Hoseok, keeping her tone neutral. He wanted to stay friends right? Keep everything as it was? She would do this for him as just friends, she thinks.

“Need any help, Hoseok?”

Hoseok cleared his throat, fiddling with his hat again and averting his eyes. “I’m good, thanks.”

“Your loss,” She shrugged, hopping off the fence. “Think fast!” With a flick of her wrist she sent the bottle sailing back into Jin’s hands. “I’m gonna go flirt with some cowboys. Wish me luck~”

Saluting them with two fingers, she sauntered off around the pen, heart racing with every step closer to where Yoongi had slowed to a trot along the opposite edge. Yoongi seemed to sense her arrival, a gentle tug of the reigns in his hand guiding the horse in a smooth turn towards her.

“About time you woke up, sleepy head.”

“That’s my line!” Y/n bit her lip shamelessly, leaning up to the fence and resting her chin atop her arms. “Sorry. I was up late.”

“I heard,” Yoongi gave her a roguish look that made her knees week.

She cocked her head to the side, keeping her tone light and innocent. “Like what you hear?”

His brows raised into his hairline, grin stretching wide, like with one dangerous whip of his tongue he knew he would have the upper hand. Like he knew he would win whatever this was. “Why d’you ask? Trying to impress me, sweetheart?”

“You wish,” She rolled her eyes playfully.

“That’s good to hear.” He kissed the back of his teeth and blew out a drawn out sigh, dropping down from the horse and sidling up to the fence, stooping down to grab for his water bottle. “Because you’d have to do a lot more than that to impress me.”

Y/n didn’t know what took over her. Maybe it was the rush of energy thrumming through her veins or the insatiable ache that resided low in her belly. But she stepped onto the bottom rung of the fence, elbows propped on the top so she could look down her nose at him.

“Oh yeah? And what would that look like?”

Yoongi regarded her carefully over his drink, taking his time in letting the water flow freely, holding some in his mouth before swallowing it. Then he squinted. “What’s up with you today?”

“Nothing,” She gave a coy shrug. “Just curious, that’s all.”

“Uh huh,” Yoongi gave her a sarcastic nod, tipping the bottle back for another drink before capping it off, tongue running over his lower lip to clean up what was left on them “That color looks good on you by the way.”

“What do you….” Words escaped her, not even bothering to hide how closely she watched the muscle move, entranced by the slow glide over the soft flesh of his lower lip that she wanted nothing more than to taste. Tearing her eyes away from his mouth, she met his eyes again, finding the rest of her question a second too late. “...What color?”

Pulling his lip up between his teeth, he raked his eyes over her form, making a show of taking his time tracing the lines of her body back to her face. “That one.”

She had to remind herself to breathe.

“Jungkook is getting his horse set up now. He’ll be out shortly.” Yoongi fought back a smirk, hoisting himself back onto his own animal. “Try to keep your pants on while we work.” He tipped his hat to her, turning into a slow stroll back towards the barn. When he was a dozen or so feet away, he called back to her over his shoulder. “Or don’t. Surprise me.”

Before she could give a sarcastic retort, he kicked his horse back into a comfortable gallop that made his hips move in ways that should be illegal.

Was she drooling? Just to be sure, she brought her sleeve up to wipe at her mouth, pretending she had an itch on her nose. No drool. Good. She had to keep her cool before she crossed the line between flirty and embarrassing.

And dear god was that line getting thin.

If she thought Yoongi was deadly, nothing could have ever prepared her for Jungkook. Not when his jeans hugged him in all the right places. Not when someone had given him a hat similar to Yoongi’s, the brown leather complimenting the warmth of his eyes so beautifully. And especially not when the sleeves of his black tee were rolled in nice crisp lines, putting his biceps and forearms on full display.

She was no better than a man, she lamented to herself at the blatant ogling of these men as they trotted about the pen. It didn’t help that Yoongi was being so kind–so thorough–taking his job teaching Jungkook very seriously.

About halfway through, Jungkook started tipping his hat towards her with a gentle smile, and each time he rewarded it with a wink and a flirtatious wave. Sometimes even going as far as to mouth the word ‘hot’ whenever she felt like teasing him until he flushed. Of course he was a natural, there wasn’t anything he couldn’t get his hands on and not succeed in–something that made her chest swell with pride when Yoongi gave him the go to pick up his speed under his watchful eye.

From the other side she could see Hoseok still stealing glances at her, but every time she looked his way he would fix his hat or resituate himself like he hadn’t been. Her mouth went dry, fingers digging into the wooden beams. He should be standing over here with her–telling stupid jokes and giggling as they whispered back and forth to each other. Friends.

Don’t think of him. Don’t think of him. Don’t think of him. She grit her teeth, bringing her attention back to the two boys running rampant through the pen. After another lap or two, the they returned to where Y/n was still leaned up on the fence, dropping down to take a short break and grab another drink.

Yoongi stared at her again, sweat dripping down his temple; calculating and pensive as his eyes narrowed in on her face. It made her want to both shrink away from it and drown in it at the same time.

He cleared his throat, twisting the cap back on his water bottle and letting fall with a thump back to his feet. “You wanna try?”

“What?” Y/n blinked, bringing her thoughts back from the dangerous places they had begun to crawl while tracing a drop of water down Jungkook’s throat and leveling them back at Yoongi. “Try what?”

“Riding.”

The muscles of her thighs twitched, a bolt of electricity going traveling down her spine and settling low. “S-sure.”

Swinging her legs over the fence one after the other, she tiptoed closer to Yoongi, making sure to keep an arms length away from the animal that flicked its tail at her approach.

“Don’t be shy, she won’t bite. She’s very social.” Yoongi chuckled, holding his hand out for her to take. He slid both of their hands over the top of her nose in gentle circles, earning a contented snort from the animal.

“What’s her name?” Y/n whispered.

“Pepper,” Yoongi answered. “She’s my favorite girl, aren’t you?” he tutted softly to the horse. “She really is sweet, so don’t sweat. They use her to teach young children all the time.”

“Right,” Y/n nodded, letting her hand idly scratch at her snout. “So professor, where do we start?”

Yoongi rolled his eyes at the nickname but obliged nonetheless, giving you a succinct low down of the pieces of the saddle and harness, and all the warning signs for an irritated horse to look out for. When he finished his demonstration on how to tug the reins, he snapped his fingers towards the horse.

“Up.”

She looked from Yoongi to the horse, then back to him. “...How?”

Yoongi’s eye twitched. “...Like I just told you to.”

“Yes–but how.”

“...Remind me never to offer to teach you anything ever again,” Yoongi muttered, herding her towards the side of the horse and standing flush against her back.

“Don’t be such a grump. I listened. You know I don’t do well with verbal instructions. I have to be shown how to do something.”

Yoongi held his breath for a moment, some snide remark kept hidden behind his teeth traded out for a hand sliding over the curve of her waist, the other hovering just along the outside of her thigh.

“Up,” he ordered, smacking his hand lightly on her thigh.

With her foot propped up on the stirrup, she began to hoist herself up, the hand along her waist guiding her trajectory. Her heart rate started to spike at such a simple touch.

“Good. Now swing your leg over.”

This time–whether it was actually on purpose or just a slip of the hand–his fingertips ghosting along the back of her upper thighs.

Of course, she listened again, doing exactly as requested and settling down onto the saddle. His hand smoothed up her calf, his palm stopping for a rest just below the crook of her knee. His motions lazy and thoughtless, like it meant nothing to him to play with her pulse so carelessly. Like the heat from his palm wasn’t burning straight through the fabric of her pants and making her legs quiver.

“Back straight. Heels down. Hips in line with the shoulders…” He listed, checking off each box with a scan of your form. “Now you’re going to want to tense your thighs–don’t. Keep them relaxed and your hips loose. It can be uncomfortable if you squeeze too tight. If at any point you feel like you can’t stop the urge, unhook your feet and point your foot down.”

She tried to listen–she really did. But his thumb drawing feather-light patterns on her ankle made it nearly impossible to think of anything else.

“I’m going to lead you around–let you get used to the feeling and work on your posture while in motion.”

“Sounds good,” She licked her lips, gripping the reigns like Yoongi had taught her to. For half of it, Jungkook padded alongside them, shrugging his hat off and offering it to her to block the sun from her eyes. Yoongi was right. It was actually difficult to resist the urge to press down on the sides of the horse, having to take his advice and slip her feet from the stirrups and point her toes towards the ground to loosen the tension.

A low whistle broke her concentration on her movements. “Well, will you look at what the cat dragged in...”Hoseok remarked with a slow shake of his head.

“And he always beings only the finest catches for you,” Y/n laughed, tipping her hat to him playfully.

His smile faltered. It shouldn’t have pissed her off as much as it did.

She shifted her attention to Jin instead as he took a hesitant step back from the fence at their approach, grinning down at him. “I assume you don’t wanna join us?”

“Not in the slightest.” Jin pushed his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose. “I have a will to live unlike you three.”

“Hey! Pepper is a sweet girl…” Y/n bent to rub along the side of the horse’s neck for good measure.

Yoongi shrugged. “Except when she smells fear. Which she can do.” He lent towards the fence, making an ‘I’m watching you’ motion with two fingers at Jin. “You’re next.”

Jin bristled, shaking his head rapidly. “Absolutely not.”

“Oh you bet your ass I’m getting you on a horse before we leave. Your mom wants a picture.” Yoongi snickered.

Jin let out a dramatic gasp. “My mother is scheming with you too?”

“You know she loves me~” Yoongi pretended to fluff up his button down and lifted his chin up haughtily.

Y/n tried to shake off her irritation and plastered on a friendly smile, sending Hoseok a kind offer. “What about you? You feeling up for a try?”

Hoseok blew a stream of air through puffed cheeks, leaning his weight onto his palms as he turned over her question. “Nah. I’m good here.”

“You sure?” Y/n tipped her head to the side, recalling how interested Hoseok had originally seemed in it when they had first gotten here. “I can get off Pepper if you want so you don’t have to walk around the pen.”

“Really, I’m chill here.”

She frowned. “I mean it, it doesn’t bother me-”

“I said I’m fine.” Hoseok cut her off, his tone clipped and his lips pressed into a thin line.

Taken aback, Y/n flushed with embarrassment. What she was embarrassed about she didn’t know. Maybe the way Yoongi was looking up at her? Or the way all of them were looking between the two of them, observing the exchange as though watching a television show. All that she knew for certain was the energy buzzing through her system made her heat beat echo in her throat and her palms run clammy with sweat that wasn’t from the hot Texas sun. It wanted her to scream at him–or to cry, either one seemed satisfying.

“Cool. That’s-” she cleared the tightness from her throat, “that’s fine. You can give it a go tomorrow I guess.”

Yoongi took the hint, the air suddenly rusted with tension, and he tugged the reigns forwards once more. Y/n only made it a few steps before the uncontrollable urge to cry burned at the backs of her eyes. What was going on with her? Five seconds ago she felt like she was on top of the world, yet now it felt like it had crashed down around her. With a dozen or so yards between her and Hoseok it became unbearable.

"I think I’m done for the day,” She mumbled down to Yoongi.

Yoongi twisted back to look up at her, holding his hat so it wouldn’t fall. “What was that?”

“I want to get down.”

He stopped the horse immediately, offering her a hand and helping her slide down the slide down Pepper’s side. “You okay?”

Their hands stayed intertwined long after she dismounted, the touch driving her senses crazy with the want for more. Could her brain just pick a mood? She thought to herself bitterly.

She needed to get away from all of them for a minute to collect herself before she did something stupid–and that could be screaming at Hoseok or jumping someone's bones–only time would tell.

“Tell Hoseok if he was waiting for me to leave, the pen’s all his. Hope he can enjoy himself.”

Dropping his hand back to his side, she didn’t bother answering him, hopping the fence and tearing across the grass with a hand up to cover the side of her face so no one else could see it anymore. Feeling all their stares was making her desire to crawl into a whole to escape them all the more powerful.

She kicked her shoes off, tripping over them with a curse before sending them flying in two different directions. There would be time to pick them up later–right now she just needed to cool off.

With a heavy groan, the front door opened and closed behind her, followed by the gentle scuff of a pair of shoes joining the neat row by the door.

“I’m not interested in company right now Kook, but I appreciate the gesture. Just give me a minute, ‘kay?’ She called back over her shoulder breathlessly, storming down the hall towards their rooms and ducking into the first one she could get her hands on–which just so happened to be Yoongi’s.

It felt wrong to sit on his bed in her day clothes, instead choosing to sink down into the wooden rocking chair by the window, elbows perched on her knees and fingers running circles around each other. While Yoongi liked to pester her about invading his room all the time, she still always found herself coming back to it. The combination of his spell work and warding coupled with just the energy of him always made a room feel secure. Like a bubble away from it all.

Though this was something she couldn’t run from. She had to navigate this. This was part of it, wasn’t it? Falling in love with all of them–the risk of being rejected? She knew that. It was something she had thought of so many times before.

So then why did it hurt so badly?

Would it be better if Hoseok had no feelings for her at all?

The door to Yoongi’s room opened moments later, staying lodged open as her pursuer leaned up against the frame.

She didn’t look up from where her fingers fiddled with each other, keeping her tone even. “Kook, please just give me a second. I’ll be out soon.”

A scoff. “I can’t have one room that you don’t steal, can I?”

Neck snapping up at the sound of his voice, Y/n’s eyes widened to see Yoongi shaking his head solemnly at her, clicking the door shut behind him.

“What, do I have to ask for permission to be in my own room?” He drew one of his wrists up to observe the time on his watch. “And here I thought our next session wasn’t due for another hour.”

Alarm bells rang in her head. She shouldn’t be alone with him right now. Not in the state she was in. “S-sorry. I can go.”

Yoongi froze, the teasing grin slipping from his face. “No joke? Now you’re really starting to worry me.”

“Not in the mood,” She muttered down to her hands.

There was an extended pause where Yoongi shifted his weight from foot to foot, the distant sound of the other boys voices carrying in on the wind through the crack of his opened window.

“Are you going to tell me what happened, or what?”

Y/n shook her head at him.

Yoongi sighed, shuffling over to the side of his bed to her left and settling down on the edge. “Fine. Then I guess we just sit here.”

It was quiet at first. His tranquil presence a safety blanket over her spiked nervous system, her breath slowing and her pulse settling. Then it was hell.

Every quick glance at him threatened to undo all the work she had just done to settle herself. It made warmth creep up through her chest, slipping through every rib and curling around her senses, clouding them with thoughts of reaching out to grab him–of threading her fingers through his hair and crashing her mouth to his. He probably tasted like the orange juice he kept guzzling every morning at breakfast, or of salt from the build up of sweat along his jaw and throat.

In her lap her fingers twitched, compelled by her racing heart to tangle in his clothes. To kneel in front of him on the floor and beg him to touch her skin–any of her skin.

“I need to get out of here.” Y/n shot to her feet, tipping the rocking chair into a steady rhythm with the backs of her knees.

Yoongi furrowed his brows. “Why?”

“Because.” She grit her teeth, stomping over to the door with legs made of jelly.

He was not but a step behind her, grabbing her elbow before she could make it to the door. “Hey, just talk to me.”

“Please don’t…” Y/n tensed under his touch, ashamed of how something so innocent sent electric shocks in places there shouldn’t be any. Squeezing her eyes shut, she shook his hold free. “...touch me right now.”

Yoongi backed off instantly, growing more worried by the second. “Seriously, what the fuck is going on?”

Y/n groaned, running her hands down her face, her voice raising a bit louder than she intended. “I don’t know!”

“Then fuckin’ talk to me about it and maybe we can figure-”

“No!” Y/n cut him off, hands splayed out in front of her like a barrier. “Not you.”

He huffed. “Why?”

“Because!” She took a step closer on instinct and immediately regretted it, her gaze flickering down to his lips against her will.

“Oh.” The sound was so soft falling from his lips. So small and modest.

No. No no no. This was too vulnerable. She didn’t like the softness. She wanted him to yell at her, boss her around, grab her again and push her against the door–anything but that goddamn tenderness he tended to show her when she got like this.

He took another step closer, the distance thinning as her breath grew shallow. Their noses mere milometers away from each other. His dark eyes scanned her features so carefully it hurt. Shifting from worried to swirling with pure recognition as he found what he was searching for, his lips parting to speak again but she didn’t give him the chance.

“Stop being careful with me.” She didn’t mean to say it out loud, but she couldn’t find it in her to regret it. “Please.”

Yoongi let his eyes slip closed with a shaky breath, fists clenched at his sides so hard they shook. Y/n’s eyes closed, ready to finally feel him close the distance.

He didn’t.

“Fuck,” He cursed under his breath, taking a few staggering steps back, hands running fervent paths through his hair.

She opened her eyes, blinking at him slowly. “What’s wrong?”

“Not like this.” He shook his head.

“Not like what?” Y/n repeated, her stomach twisting in on itself.

Yoongi sucked another breath in between his teeth like his restraint was the one being tested. “We can’t…”

Hot tears pooled behind her eyes. Had she misread all of his signals too? What the fuck was happening?

“Forget it.” She spat, snatching up the handle and starting to twist it.

“No, wait–for fucks sake!” Yoongi snatched her wrist away from the door knob and spun her around. “I just meant not this way. Not when the reason is because you’re upset with someone else. I don’t want anyone else’s shit getting dragged into us. That’s just something I have to put my foot down on.”

The laugh that fell from her mouth was pathetic. “Really Yoongi–it’s fine. You don’t have to defend your reasoning. I’m a big girl that can take no for an answer.”

“Y/n-”

“Go back out and enjoy the day. Tomorrow we have to pack up, so don’t waste it stuck in here with me. I got this. Go have fun–take pictures of Jin if you manage to get him on a horse for me, okay?”

With that, she finally escaped the room and slipped back into her own, crawling back into her own bed to let the shame of what had just happened eat her up inside. Why couldn’t she just control her feelings? Why couldn’t she just let the joy of finding the answers they’ve been searching for settle normally, and not like a burning fire in her veins?

Why did she always have to fuck things up?

_________________________________________

Someone plopped onto her mattress, jostling Y/n’s body around enough to make her groan, but not enough to fully wake her. The next offender was the lamp on the bedside table flicking on and searing the back of her eyelids with yellow light.

“Wake up, We only have 50 hours left together and there is no way I’m letting you leave without one night of reckless cousin activities.”

Miranda flopped onto Y/n’s back, knocking the wind with an audible ‘oof’. “Come onnnnnn. We have parties to attend, people to see, cake to steal…”

Y/n peeked her head around the pillow, words muffled by the fluff. “’M listening…”

Her cousin’s grin stretched wider. “One of the family’s that run a stall at the market is hosting it. Music, dancing, hot cowboys that will buy you drinks–everything you need for a fantastic night.”

“No cowboys.” Y/n grumbled. “I have too many of those to worry about right now.”

Miranda pursed her lips. “Yeah you do. Kook has been sulking in the dining room looking longingly at your room all afternoon. If he ain’t careful, someone’s gonna write a dreary love song about him and it will do numbers at the county fair.”

That won a laugh from Y/n. “And I’d kill to hear it.” After a beat she answered again, deflating a little. “I don’t think I have anything party worthy.”

“Don’t you worry your perfect little head, mi patita. I have more than enough party clothes to spare.”

“Does this happen to include any cowgirl boots?” Y/n asked, her growing excitement starting to chip at her residual fatigue.

Miranda mirrored her glee. “If I didn’t force you to wear any while you’re here, I would never forgive myself.”

“Hell yeah.”

She let Miranda pull her to her feet, the two of them scampering out into the hall passed the rest of the household that had congregated in the dining room.

“Ay, no running!” Miranda’s mother called after the two of them, but they were good as gone– giggling to each other and slipping across the wooden floors with sock-clad feet, winding up the stairs to her room on a trail that blazed trouble.

Now this was nostalgic; parading around her cousin’s room with music playing as loud as her mother would let her, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. It satisfied that teeming craving for life that seemed to simmer beneath her skin and raised the spirits that had fallen, given her a place of refuge from it all.

When a cloud of guilt began to seep in about not inviting any of her other friends, Miranda swatted away with a wave of her hand.

“They are grown men. If they wanted to come to the party–they can find a way to get there themselves. Tonight is about us. And besides, I may or may not have put my brother up to keeping them entertained for the night.”

Fixing the hem of her top, Y/n hummed. “This is why you’re the genius of the family.”

“I try~” Miranda bowed with a flourish. “Shall we?”

They left arm in arm, skipping down the front steps and taking off across the dirt before anyone could ask them where they were going. No one else needed to know (except her mother of course). It was just something special for the two of them–something reckless and exciting.

Y/n let her head dangle outside the window as they drove through town, screaming the lyrics to whatever Miranda played on the radio into the valleys of the night to echo back to them. It was like tasting heaven; the pure joy that exploded in bright, beaming smiles and dancing together in a hot stuffy barn to music that was loud enough to make her ears ring and drinks that were stronger than her own good.

Somewhere in the twirling delight and thumping drums, she felt the pang of longing to feel this everyday. To have friends again that weren’t complicated or muddied. To dance with her older sister at holiday parties and steal her clothes. To lay on he floor until the early hours of the morning, gossiping about the people at her school and grating teachers–and then staying up even later gushing about the lead protagonist in the latest book series they would text each other about.

Maybe they could do that again. Maybe they could mend what they had now that they were so close to having a way out.

Y/n was determined to not let this be the last time. When she took Miranda’s hands for another dance, she made sure to cherish it–to feel the rush of her blood and the ache in her cheeks from smiling too much. When this was all over she’d invite Miranda and her family over as much as she could, and carve out time to make the trip down to see her at least once a year.

On their way home, though tipsy, she couldn’t stop grinning lazily at her cousin every time she pointed out another constellation in the clear sprawling sky or rambled about the moons of another planet. Because this is also who she was fighting for.

Y/n had sobered up enough to help Miranda up to her room, laying together on top of the covers reminiscing over their night like they would when they were children until Miranda drifted off first.

The feeling started as a little prick. Just a thought that whizzed by like a shooting star–so fast she almost missed it. Then it grew, rooting deep in her gut and spreading its leaves upwards, stretching out in wanting to be somewhere else.

She followed it. Tipsy enough not to care where it led her, just letting the feeling guide her forwards, shoes slipped haphazardly on her feet and phone flashlight in her hand out into the night.

It took less time than she remembered to get to that little run down cabin, perched upon the edge of the sky like if she were to walk passed it, she’d slip right off the face of the earth into the vast universe she had just learned so much about. The porch light on as though it was expecting her.

Three little girls ran out along the grass like whisps in the night, Lisolette still sat watching them play. A fixed guardian on the steps.

Y/n fell next to her with less grace than she had originally planned, letting a giggle escape at her own expense.

“Have a good night?” Lisolette inquired with a pointed raise of her brow.

“Exceptional.” Y/n sighed, tipping her head back to the sky.

Lisolette hummed. “Then whaddya doing ‘ere?”

Y/n took in a slow deep breath, letting the air fill her lungs in a meditative motion. “I missed my sisters.”

Her companion’s brows furrowed until it almost reassembled a glare. “And what’s that got to do with me?”

She looked to Lisolette, dragging her eyes over her face with care. Perhaps it was the alcohol in her blood that was making her so bold, but whatever it was, she let it carry the weight of their interaction. “Because you do too. I can feel it.” Y/n paused, wetting her lips that had dried from the walk over. “I think that’s what led me here.”

Lisolette didn’t care to respond, fixing her stare back out onto the miles of fields and grasslands.

The silence was killing Y/n after having been around so much deafening music and jovial laughter. And she must have been more drunk than she had thought, because when she rose to her feet, she unlocked her phone to start tapping letters into her search bar. Her fingers not stopping until she was pulling up one of the songs she had heard at the party.

Notes drifted out into the night, bouncing up and down in time with the breeze and the swaying blades of grass. Y/n held her hand out to her aunt expectantly.

“Dance with me.”

Lisolette’s eyes had never been so wide yet somehow so narrowed as she gaped up to Y/n. “’cuse me?”

“Did you ever dance with your sisters?”

Her aunt paused, choosing her voice falling low. “We did so often.”

Y/n shrugged, keeping her hand extended. “So did mine. But they aren’t here. So…” She let the end of her sentence hang unanswered, inching her hand closer to her aunt.

Lisolette exhaled a sharp breath, rising to her feet (albeit begrudgingly) and snatching up Y/n’s hand. “Yer hard headed. You know that?”

“Runs in the family,” Y/n grinned, spinning Lisolette around wildly, catching her off guard.

It was a stiff exchange at first, Lisolette hanging like dead weight while Y/n lead her around the dirt clearing like a child would guide a parent in a dance. But ever so slowly, Lisolette began to break, her movements flowing into one another with practice ease–keeping in step with both the modern steps and guiding Y/n in some that were much older than herself. And to Y/n’s pleasant surprise, her aunt smiled. Wide and unapologetically there, as graceful and bright as the stars and moon above.

There was no sense to their dance, it was clumsy and disjointed at times, easy and instinctual in others. Imperfectly perfect.

The music eventually drew the attention of the girls, the three of them bounding over to join in on the festivities with boisterous giggles and excited shrieks. With the youngest on her hip, Y/n swayed to the beat, her free hand tucked into a much smaller one.

The rhythm carried the night on in a blur of laughter and joined hands. Scenery whirling away into spinning streaks of color and light, the music fading further and further away. Through the haze she could hear her aunts voice echoing back to her, distant and fuzzy like a memory she couldn’t place.

She awoke still on Miranda’s bed with the first rays of the rising sun, rising to her feet to pad out into the hall and down the stairs, floating out the front door, not bothering to put on shoes.

Red and orange streaks stretched their stiff arms up from its bed below the horizon, and Y/n lent herself against the railing of the porch, letting its warmth trace down her cheeks that were still sticky from dried sweat from the night before. If she strained her ears, she could almost still hear the distant beat of the drums off at the cabin.

A smile curved at her lips.

Nights like that were what she was fighting for.

And she was ready to take on whatever it would take to protect them. The devil better be ready for her, because while he may know hell–whatever she was going to do to him was going to be worse than that. So much worse.

_________________________________________

[💚🔪My CareBear🔪💚] 2:01am: hhHeyy

[💚🔪My CareBear🔪💚]2:01am: I miS uy🥺

[💚🔪My CareBear🔪💚] 2:01am: uy🥺

[💚🔪My CareBear🔪💚] 2:01am: fucc

[💚🔪My CareBear🔪💚]2:07am: I fond a plantttt 🔪

[💚🔪My CareBear🔪💚]2:07am: oujside

[💚🔪My CareBear🔪💚]2:08am: mase mme think of u😜

[💚🔪My CareBear🔪💚]2:12am: I hve smth to tell u bt Yoongs said I cannt

[Joon 🧸🌱] 10:22am: Good morning to you too 😆

[Joon 🧸🌱] 10:23am: What kind of plant? 👀 👀

[Joon 🧸🌱] 10:23am: wait, what?

[💚🔪My CareBear🔪💚] 1:23pm: Fuck. I’m so sorry for whatever that was…

[💚🔪My CareBear🔪💚] 1:24pm: I was drunk. Went to a barn dance last night. Definitely feeling it today 😪

[Joon 🧸🌱] 1:31pm: I figured as much

[Joon 🧸🌱] 1:32pm: Can’t say my curiosity hasn’t been peaked on this mysterious plant...

[💚🔪My CareBear🔪💚] 1:35pm: Unclear on the species but I stole a piece of it for us to propagate. He will be snuggled up in my jeans under the plane 😌

[💚🔪My CareBear🔪💚] 1:43pm: Presenting…..

< sent a photo>

[💚🔪My CareBear🔪💚]: 1:43 ✨OUR SON ✨

[Joon 🧸🌱] 1:49pm: He looks beautiful, just like his mom 😊

“Did you have a good night last night?” Someone spoke up from behind her.

Clicking her phone off and reigning in her shameless grin at Namjoon's compliment, she looked to Jin. “Very. Line-danced in a barn, stargazed, danced with the spirits of the night in the wilderness–you know, the normal girl’s night activities.”

“Right,” Jin chuckled, gliding his suitcase up next to hers. “You seem to be feeling a bit better this morning.”

“I am.” She nodded. “I needed last night to get my head on straight.”

Jin hummed distantly, resting his elbows next to hers on the porch railing, their shoulders brushing. “I’m glad.”

Y/n bit her lip, the radiating warmth of his body making her cheeks flush, her body subconsciously inching closer. He smelt clean, like laundry detergent and soap, and she pretended the smell wasn't comforting. “You know what else I could really use?”

“Hmm?” Jin tipped his head to regard her earnestly, his eyes following even the slightest movements.

“I could use another serenade. Maybe an afternoon with you and that guitar.” She then mustered up an aloof shrug. “A handful of shenanigans after too. Just you and me.”

His plush lips curved upwards with a bashful smile, head tipping down to hide the faint flush. “Sounds good to me.”

Plastic collided with wood, followed by hissed curses and a stuttered gait. The two of them jolted towards the door to watch Hoseok stumble through, grappling with his suitcase in one arm and the door in the other.

Y/n moved before she had registered it, rushing towards the door and propping it open for him to wade through. “Here.”

He spared her a quick look before averting his eyes back down to the ground where he lowered the suitcase with a thump. “Thanks.”

“I can carry that to the car for you,” She offered gesturing to the bag. “It’s no biggie.”

“I got it. I’m not weak.” Hoseok tried to cut the clear distaste in his voice with a dry laugh, but it fell flat.

Y/n clenched her fists at her side as she inhaled, stuffing all of her previous irritation in them and releasing it with a slow exhale. Fixing him with the most genuine honesty she could, she finally responded. “I never said you were. Needing help every once in a while doesn’t make you weak and offering it to you doesn’t mean I think you are. It just means I care about my friend.”

Hoseok stiffened. His knuckles turned white with how hard he gripped the handle to his suitcase at the top of the stairs.

“Does it hurt?” Y/n finally asked.

“Does what hurt?”

“Anything. Anywhere.”

Hoseok scoffed lightly. “It always does.”

“Then let us care for you, yeah?” Y/n swooped in, her hand rested next to his on the handle. “Even if it’s something small.”

Hoseok relented his suitcase, hand falling lifelessly to his side. “If you want to.”

“I’ll always want to.”

She lifted the suitcase into her arms and carted it down the stairs, parking it next to the rental car’s trunk, then repeating the same with her own suitcase. When she bent down to pick up Jin’s he held up a hand to stop her.

“I can do it.”

Y/n pursed her lips, pretending to think over his words. “Huh. I don’t remember asking if you could.” She hoisted it into her arms with a grunt. “Let me give you all the princess treatment for once, yeah?” With a wink, she skipped down the stairs, dropping it next to hers and dusting her hands off. “Now we wait for the rest of the group.”

Shrugging the back pack off her shoulders next, she ripped open one of the back doors to toss it into, intent on helping the other boys with their suitcases just because. To prove to Hoseok that it wasn’t about weakness, but about kindness.

Her plans were halted by something long and shiny tucked neatly in the backseat.

A gasp fell from her lips, her hands instinctively coming out to run her index finger along the wooden handle.

“Figured youse would find a good use for it.”

Y/n jumped, meeting Lisolette’s eyes through the rear view mirror from her spot in the passenger seat. Flitting back to the gun, she swallowed audibly, picking it up and weighing it in her palms.

“Give me a holler when you need me.” Lisolette twisted around to peer at her, the smallest of smiles quirking of the edge of her lips as she tipped her hat to her. “I’ll be there.” Her body evaporated in a blink, the front seat empty and the energy settled as though she had never been there.

The wheels of another suitcase bounced down the front steps of the ranch, not a care in the world for any semblance of grace. “Surprised to see you all on time for once,” Yoongi grumbled, rounding the back of the car and popping open the trunk with a huff.

Y/n moved as though through molasses, inching towards him with her eyes locked on the weapon in her hands, stopping just over his shoulder. There was no time to feel nervous to speak to him. “Yoongs?”

He whipped back instantly at the sound of her voice, brows pinched with a worried countenance that instantly gave way to utter shock. “You ok-what the fuck is that?”

“A gift from Lisolette.” Y/n lifted one side of the gun to inspect the back. “Any ideas on how we are going to get this on a plane?”

“Fucking hell.” Yoongi slammed the trunk down for emphasis, plucking the rifle from her hands only to toss it into the back seat, storming back towards the house. “Call your mom–I’m not paying the whack ass luggage fee we are about to get. I’m going to try and explain to your aunt why we are stealing a family heirloom.”

Y/n fumbled with her phone clicking, swiping the screen open to come face to face with another text from Namjoon.

[Joon 🧸🌱] 1:51pm: So backtracking a bit...What was that about Yoongi not letting you tell me something?

She snapped a picture of the gun in the backseat and sent it to him, knowing full well Yoongi didn’t want her to say anything to the others until they were home in case it pissed off Alain. Typing out a short message, she hoped it would be enough to hold him over.

[💚🔪My CareBear🔪💚] 1:58pm: Made a new friend and they gave us a gift. Will explain more when I get home. Be ready to celebrate 🎉

[Joon 🧸🌱] 2:00pm: Why do I feel like I should be doing the opposite…

[Joon 🧸🌱] 2:00pm: Make sure that gun isn’t loaded for my sanity 😅

Chapter Text

The air smelt of stale crackers and chemical fumes, tinged with some sort of cleaner that made Y/n’s stomach churn. If that wasn’t overstimulating enough, she was in a one sided war with the passenger in line behind her: some guy in his mid to late thirties who had no spatial awareness whatsoever. She counted her breaths, occupying herself with the excitement of getting to tell the rest of the group everything that had happened–which worked, up until another particularly stiff shove to her back and the toe of his annoyingly wide sneakers dug into her heel. Eye twitching and shoulders up to her ears with tension, her fingers dug into the back of Jin’s sweatshirt for assistance, garnering his attention.

“Just another minute. Our seats are right up here.”

Y/n huffed, shuffling closer to him until her cheek was practically flush to his shoulder. “If it’s any longer than that, I might end up on the news.”

“Please don’t.” He cast her a nervous glance. “We are almost there.” As if on cue, the line started forwards again, his hand waiting expectantly for the handle of her carry-on. “You sit first. I’ll handle these.”

Y/n grumbled a few curses to the mouth breather’s bloodline and passed her bag over, squeezing between Jin’s body and the leather seats to cut in front of him. “Just one step on his toes?”

“No.”

“Not even an accidental elbow to the ribs?”

Jin frowned, narrowing his eyes at her with enough authority to cut off her schemes.

Crossing her arms over her chest she rolled her eyes, muttering to herself. “Yoongi would have let me do it…”

“What would’ve I let you do?” Yoongi was now in front of her, swinging his bag into the overhead compartment.

“Assault a fellow passenger.” Y/n replied matter-of-factually.

He started sidling into the window seat, looking between her and the guy with the massive set of headphones over his ears behind Jin. “That one?”

“Yup.”

Yoongi shrugged, sinking into the hard leather seat. “Have at it.”

“Don’t encourage her, I know she will actually do it. Then next thing you know, one of us will have to stay back and take an impromptu cross country road trip after she gets herself banned from all known airlines.” Jin fretted, gesturing for her to take the seat next to Yoongi.

She hesitated, if only for a second, recovering quick enough for Jin not to notice–but Yoongi did. He watched her carefully as she slunk next to him, overly conscious of how much distance she was leaving between them.

Yoongi tore his eyes away to rummage through his backpack. “Sounds like fun to me.”

With her seat belt buckled, she flashed Jungkook and Hoseok a grin from over her seat, throwing up a peace sign over her headrest. “You two gonna be okay back there by yourselves?”

Jungkook nodded stiffly, hand planting on the top of her head and forcing it around to the front. “Face the right way, dummy.”

Yoongi shot up from the depths of his bag, headphones dangling lazily off his fingertips. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” Y/n answered quickly. “You heard nothing.”

“No I definitely heard something.”

“You’re imagining things.”

Yoongi leaned back in his seat, tasting the word like it was fine aged whiskey. “Dummy, huh?”

“Don’t you dare…” she pointed a menacing finger at him.

“Or what?” Yoongi challenged. “You gonna get kicked off the plane and give me the flight rewards for being brutally assaulted?”

“‘Brutally assaulted is a bit strong. I was thinking ‘maimed’ would be more fitting.”

“Whatever you say, dummy.” Yoongi couldn’t hide the smirk on his face, unfolding his headphones and stacking them over his ears.

Y/n glared at him. “Only Jungkook can call me that, loser.”

“Sorry–what was that? Can’t hear you over the sound of class.” He pulled off one of the ear muffs and tilted his head towards her.

She flicked her eyes to his phone screen and back up to his eyes. “Green day is class?”

“Billie Joe Armstrong is an innovator.”

“What are we talking about the moon landing?” Jin asked sitting down next to Y/n, eyes glinting with humor.

Yoongi pressed his lips into a thin line. “That’s Neil Armstrong.”

From the row behind them she heard Hoseok start singing, voice forced an octave lower than it should be. “And I think to myself…”

Y/n and Jin joined in.“What a wonderful world~”

“That’s Louis Armstro–you know what, I’m done speaking with all of you. You’re all just trying to piss me off.” He spun around to point at Jungkook. “You’re the only one allowed to speak to me for the time being, but you’re on thin ice.” He shoved his finger close enough between his eyes for Jungkook to cross them just to look at it. “Thin. Ice.”

Jungkook’s eyes rounded out into saucers. “What’d I do?”

“Guilty by association.” Yoongi slapped his headphones back onto his ears and turned his attention back to his backpack, shucking out his sketch pad and a pencil to lose himself into.

Thankfully this time around Y/n felt no fear brewing while they waited for everyone else to find their seats–not even when the flight attendants gave their little emergency exit spiel, nor when the plane started inching along the runway. Fear was an emotion she felt completely immune to. The flight attendants could have asked her to give the seat belt lectures from the wings of the plane during takeoff and she would have done it just to feel the rush.

What did manage to seep through the cracks was a ghost of unease that twisted into her gut each time she snuck a sideways glance at Yoongi and his methodical pencil strokes along the blank pages of his paper. Loose shapes with nothing to say yet, but she could tell it was only a matter of time before they did.

Fishing for her earbuds in her pocket, she started swiping through her playlists for something loud enough to keep up with her mood and fast enough to make her chase the high it would leave her with. Hopefully the rhythm would help her get enough control over the speed of her thoughts to form a coherent apology to Yoongi.

“Fuck…” She shook her head in frustration, her searches coming up empty. It seemed that in her flighty haze, she had forgotten to download the rest of her library before they had left, leaving her with very few options to choose from. Tossing her phone down to her lap, she lent her head back against the headrest and let her eyes slip closed.

Sleep would probably do her some good–she hadn’t gotten much of it. But no matter how hard she tried it wouldn’t come. Behind her eyes was a whirlpool of thoughts–flashes of memories that elicited strong emotions, both good and bad. Frayed threads all tangling and untangling so rapidly it made her head feel stuffed with cotton. She hopped from one to the other, like she was Mario skipping up a hill of blocks to beat his head into a shiny one for far too long then tumble down the other side. Up and down. Up, then back down. Her head started to ache.

She thought of home. Seeing Jimin, Namjoon and Taehyung again. Having to talk to her mom. Sleeping in her own bed. Being back in the house in general. Facing Alain. Hoseok. Yoongi. Was she hungry? Had she even eaten anything today? She could really go for some ice cream. Maybe she could convince everyone to stop at whatever fast food place sold any on their way home. Home.

Her eyes shot open, palms sweaty and body so full of energy her teeth chattered. Rubbing her hands along her pants, she snuck another glance at Yoongi’s paper–a new page, more undefined circles and lines that had begun to take humanoid shape.

Moving without her brains permission, her fingers tapped his elbow three times, retracting quickly back to the safety of Namjoon’s hoodie pocket.

He slipped one headphone off quickly, keeping his eyes down towards the paper. “What’s up? Thought I said you were in time out.”

“You did, but you know I-I never l-listen.” She kicked herself for stuttering, words coming out in such a hurry they tripped over each other in their haste.

Yoongi looked at her strangely from the corner of his eye. “Something the matter?”

Y/n paused, the pent up energy moving to her leg where it began to bounce. “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.”

“For?” His pencil stilled.

“Being snippy. Pushing myself on you in your room when that isn’t what you wanted. I’m just having one of those episodes I guess. It’s not an excuse but…” She trailed off, searching for the right words. “I’ll try to do better.”

Yoongi ran his tongue over his bottom lip with an unreadable expression. “Apology accepted.”

“Cool,” Y/n breathed out a sigh of relief.

“I just have one correction.”

Y/n’s heart sank. “What?”

“If you didn’t know what I wanted, I’m afraid you really are a dummy.” Yoongi started to twirl the pencil along the backs of his fingers. “Next, I want to make something very clear.”

“Shoot.”

“I’m not a chaser. I’ll give it one or two go’s before I leave it be. I can read your emotions, not your mind. If you don’t tell me what’s up in that noggin’ I’m not going to squeeze it out of you. I’m trusting you to tell me when something is wrong.” He was facing her now, speaking clearly.

How he was speaking to her was intimidating. Not frightening by any means, but it was so serious–so genuine it took her breath away. Y/n swallowed thickly. “Right. I’m sorry.”

“And that leads me to my next thing: stop apologizing. Once is enough. Instead, explain it to me. Talk it out. You feel one of these...moods start brewing? Tell me.” The way he was looking at her made her want to hide from his imploring honesty, but at the same time she couldn’t get enough of it. “I know that it can fuck with you and I’m not expecting perfection–I’m expecting effort. You will get irritable. You will do things that don’t make me jump for joy with excitement. You will have days where it’s easier to manage than others. Just work with me on it and I won’t be mad.”

Y/n nodded distantly, her voice a whisper. “Yeah. Sounds good.”

“Lastly, leave everyone else at the door when it’s us. I know it’s hard. I know we are all intertwined.” He leaned closer to keep his voice unheard by eavesdroppers. “But if Hoseok or Jungkook pisses in your cereal, don’t throw it on me. I’ll listen while you clean the bowl but I’m not picking up the soggy mess.”

Y/n couldn’t help but chuckle at the visual. “I think I can handle that.”

“Perfect.” Yoongi clicked his tongue in approval, sitting back against his seat with his pencil starting back in motion. “Then we are all good.”

“Perfect,” Y/n parroted, the muscles that had been pulled tight in her shoulders relaxing against her seat. She replayed his words over and over again, reliving the moment so she could tell her overspent nerves that things were going to be okay. That this was going to be nothing like Hoseok. That she could be friends with-

“Wait,” A sly grin took over her features. “You said ‘us’. What does ‘us’ mean? You have something special you want to say to me, cowboy? Something about enjoying my company?”

Yoongi snorted to himself. “In your dreams.”

Y/n couldn’t fight the way her smile expanded wider, her skin tingling with something unspoken. It didn’t help that not more than two minutes, a piece of folded paper landed in her lap for her to discover. Peeling it open, she let out a soft gasp at the loose sketch of herself that awaited her on the paper. It was nothing extraordinary for her to look at, but the care the artist had taken to make her look so radiant, so effortlessly beaming with graceful swooping lines made her heart soar.

The most damage done to her pulse was the scribbled handwriting that sprawled across her cheek, nothing but a name. Yoongi. Short and sweet.

When she turned her attention to him he had his head tipped back, hood over the upper half of his face, arms folded over his chest with his headphones turned up so loud she could hear the drum beats. The only reason she knew he wasn’t really sleeping though was his little triumphant smirk that ghosted his lips.

She traced the lines with her finger before tucking it into her hoodie pocket, fiddling with the corners of it for the remainder of the plane ride. Even when Jin had offered her one of his earbuds to share when she started getting antsy, the pads of her index finger and thumb still ran along the edges.

_________________________________________

“Are you sure this is right?” Y/n asked, eyeing the bowl dubiously.

“98 percent sure, “Taehyung was just over her shoulder, hands enveloping hers over the whisk. “Keep mixing. I’ll pour.”

There was no space left between them, his front pressed to her back, arms wound around to tip the steaming tea kettle of water into the cake batter.

She frowned. “I don’t know. It looks like a lot of liquid.”

“Do you want your cake to be moist or not?”

“Of course I do,” Y/n reasoned, melting back into him. “I just fear that this may be too moist.”

Taehyung chuckled beneath his breath, the sound reverberating through her back. He then leaned closer, chin perched on her shoulder and breath coasting the shell of her ear. “Just trust me, yeah?”

Heat rushed from her head to her toes, all of her energy now spent on making sure her hands didn’t shake beneath his. The muscles of your forearms hurt with how long you had been beating this cake batter–which was funny to her considering the fact she was technically asleep. When satisfied with the consistency, Taehyung hummed in her ear, placing the kettle back on it’s stand and letting his hands find her hips.

“Almost done.”

“Easy for you to say when you’re not the one breaking your arm over it…” Y/n muttered.

He pressed a chaste kiss to her temple, laughter breaking through the sweet sentiment. “And you’re doing it so beautifully.”

“Flattery is going to get you nowhere.” She rolled her eyes to the ceiling. Though the way her lips started to turn up on their own accord said something different.

“No?” He challenged, guiding the whisk from her hands and chucking it into the nearby industrial sink. Then using the hold on her hips, he spun her around to collide with his chest, leading them in a bouncing sway to the music that buzzed through the overhead speakers.

Her hands slid up the planes of his chest, following the taut muscles up his shoulders to hook around his neck, fingers playing with the overgrown wisps at his nape. “This won’t work either.”

Snatching up one of her hands, Taehyung twirled her around until she had spun off to the other end of the counter and out of his way. “If you say so, pretty girl.” With one hand scooping up the bowl and the other a spatula, he scraped the batter into the readied pans while humming to the tinny music overhead. The massive ovens were to her right, and he gestured at her to open one of them, carting both pans over and tucking them into the oven.

“Now-” he began, straining to reach over her head for the timer the old fashioned timer the bakers of the cafe had left behind, “-we wait.”

“What do we do until then?” Y/n dared to ask, lip pulled up between he teeth.

Taehyung’s eyes flashed with mischief. “Explore~”

In a blink, he had one of her hands in his and tugged her out of the back kitchens and into the Edelweiss cafe’s main room, empty and glittering from the overhead vintage bulbs. It was a whirlwind of carefree laughter and wind rushing over her skin, the two of them dashing across the empty cafe and into the barren golden wasteland of the lobby. The rich vibrant carpets and plush seating scattered around unfamiliar yet not remarkably so–almost as if his brain had misplaced the couches and ottomans while conjuring the dream, dragging them to the center of the room and into circles dotted with potted plants and old magazines.

Somewhere in the whipping winds, his t-shirt was swapped for a trailing black overcoat and a sleek tapered suit, her casual wear opted out for something dripping in sophistication and class, the two of them reminiscent of some romance film following lovers at a New York gala than a hotel in the Pennsylvania woods.

With a snap of his fingers the music grew louder, the brass instruments blowing boisterous melodies that called her feet to move and her smile to brighten, percussion echoing off the walls and shiny new floors. He led the two of them down the golden staircase towards the front doors, fast and free like the only thing they were running from was time itself–and even that didn’t exist here. Here there was nothing else but him and the blinding beam of the chandeliers.

When they reached the bottom, he attached both hands to her hips and helped her onto the front desk counter, legs dangling off the edge while he tapped the service bell with a few fingers.

“A room for two please~” He spoke in an exaggerated low voice, hands planted on either side of her hips and closing in.

Y/n laughed, shaking her head at his antics. “You’re such a dork.”

Taehyung flashed a cheeky grin. “A dork who is absolutely enamored by you.”

God, her heart was going to give out if he kept this up.

He nodded to the wall of keys over her shoulder. “Pick one. Any one. I’ll follow you wherever you take me.”

Twisting around, she scanned the hundreds of little keys, trying to see if any of them in particular were speaking to her more than the others. They all looked freshly polished, void of any rusted edges or dented corners like they had just been minted that morning. With the way everything just looked so vibrant perfect, she realized this must be how Taehyung’s brain sees this place: a glowing heaven of beauty and freedom. A time capsule of glory. A soft smile graced her lips as she stretched her arm out to snatch the key with the little tasseled number ‘150’ on it.

She held it up just below their noses. “Let’s try this one.”

Plucking it from her fingers, he pocketed the little piece of metal and gripped both her hands. “Gladly. But we should stop somewhere else first…”

“Yeah?” She tilted her head to the side, mouth hovering dangerously close to his. “And where is that?”

Instead of answering, he lugged her off the counter top and herded her towards the left hand side of the entrance, down the wide barrel ceiling hall and marble stairs, taking her deeper into the building where she hadn’t the chance to go yet since her return.

Velvety maroon carpet welcomed their arrival, round Hollywood-esque bulbs bowing proudly from their golden twining sconces, lighting the vacant ticket booth and ornate waiting area to the performance theater. The doors propped open to welcome them in with open arms.

“What’s waiting for us here?” Y/n grabbed Taehyung’s arm on instinct. While she logically knew Taehyung’s dreams had been safe so far, she couldn’t hide the unease at being here–especially not after what she knew about Hoseok. Or when she knew just who else used to frequent this very hall…

Taehyung didn’t seem to notice her apprehension, grinning from ear to ear and slipping two tickets from his pocket to shake in front of her. Gold, and embossed with spidery black words she couldn’t decipher. Another thing he seemed to conjure in its outdated form. “Something to pass the time.”

Sliding them through the ticket booth window to no one in particular, he ushered her into the arms of the countless rows of red chairs at attention and waiting to witness whatever was to come and utterly empty. The hand painted ceiling sloped downwards towards the massive stage, the lights already dimmed as though the only thing the room was waiting for was them.

He helped her over the intricate carved handrails and into one of the seats near the front, shuffling in beside her with his arm still offered for her to hold. Taehyung stayed close, leaning over the armrest to minimize the space between them and sending her a wink.

Music started once more. Sudden and loud enough to make Y/n jump in her seat.

The pit was empty, or so she thought–until the tips of rosined bows and shining heads almost bled into view. It was as though someone had taken an old camera and shaken it while snapping a photo of them, the outlines where the light refracted off their frames hazy and undefined. A shadow of time.

The dancers looked real though. Dozens of them in matching pastel gowns and vested suits, scurrying from the sides to line up in neat rows of partners linked at the elbow, swaying here and there to the enchanting melody. Vines tangled over the back of a grand set, no doubt expensive and difficult to maneuver, complete with a fake fountain and cascading palace steps.

“How are you…” She began breathlessly, amazed at the show before her.

Taehyung shrugged, using the opportunity to interlace their fingers. “Magic~”

“You don’t believe in magic…”

“You’re right about that,” He sighed while leaning closer to whisper in her ear. “But you do.”

The show carried on, a mix of different popular ballet performances she was sure Taehyung must have seen enough to memorize so flawlessly. All the while, he whispered stories of his childhood–his mother and uncle taking him to local ballets, the countless shows he’s managed to snag since living here.

Of just how many he hoped to take her to.

Somewhere in between the tales of princes and swans, and romances both dastardly and delicate, his hand slipped lower, tracing letters onto the exposed skin of her thigh. Her heart drummed as urgently as the brazen band, swelling with each crescendo when he’d dance his fingertips higher, just barely nudging beneath her dress before ebbing away once more when the melody slowed.

Higher they climbed; tickling the largest part of her thigh and staying there to drag lazy circles into the flesh with his thumb, sliding his palm to rest between them so he could cup it. Guide it open just a bit more. Not much for anyone to notice (if shadows even could notice), but enough to make her breath catch. Enough for the side of his pinky to land centimeters from the seam of where her thigh met her hips.

Just as it began to trace the edge of her underwear–just as her thighs started to part further and her breath to hollow–a shrill cry of the timer echoed down from behind them, making her jump out of her skin.

Against everything she wanted, his hand began to pull away, an apologetic look taking over his features.

“Looks like our time is already up.”

A hand shook her shoulder, firm yet gentle. Stale air, red wine and flat soda permeating her senses. Goddammit Y/n cursed internally. When she didn’t move out of spite, it jostled her again–one good shake that meant business.

“I know you’re awake…” Jungkook spoke plainly, his body blocking the light above his head to peer down at her.

With a sigh, she peeled one eye open. “And?”

“We’re here.”

So much for willing herself back to sleep. Grumbling to herself, she stretched her arms as best as she could in the cramped space, Yoongi already having shuffled by her and out into the aisle to help Jin snatch the bags from the overhead compartment. Hoseok was leaning against the seat at the end of the row, staring vacantly out one of the windows across the way.

Jungkook narrowed his eyes in on her face. “You look weird.”

Y/n snorted, fluttering her eyelids up to him playfully. “You always know how to flatter me, Kook.”

“You know what I mean.” He paused looking at her with his head tilted at an angle. “Did Taehyung visit you again?” That broke Hoseok out of his stupor, clearing his throat and switching which arm he leaned on, trying his best not to look like he wasn’t looking at them from the corner of his eye.

Her arms fell back down to her sides, now her turn to look at him strangely. “Yeah, actually. How can you tell?”

Jungkook shrugged, sniffing absentmindedly. “You always look that way when he does.”

“Sorry…?” Y/n’s voice went up a few octaves as she offered him a sheepish half smile. This wasn’t something she thought they should be discussing out in the open on an airplane–or in front of Hoseok for that matter.

“S’fine,” Jungkook gave her the smallest of smiles, eyes gentle. “It’s how it is.”

“Right,” her insides grew warm and sticky like molten honey, dripping sweetness into her smile and the kiss she planted on his knuckles. “It’s just how it is.”

She caught Hoseok’s gaze lingering on the back of Jungkook’s hand where she had kissed it. Felt it on the side of her face when she huddled close to Jin upon the blast of frigid fall air that met them on the jet bridge. Sensed it through the back of her skull when her and Yoongi were bickering like an old married couple about the cost of airport food, leaning close to one another on the escalator.

It nearly set her aflame with it’s intensity when Jimin was there at the baggage claim, enveloping her in a bone crushing hug and kissing her like his life depended on it without even an ounce of shame for the bystanders.

That’s fine. Hoseok could watch if he wanted.

It wouldn’t change anything. At least not for her.

She’d be sure of it.

Hoseok hovered over the baggage carousel, lips pressed into a thin line and hands flexing at his sides. The rest of the group was busy catching up with Jimin who had already enraptured them with the story of how Namjoon almost caught the kitchen on fire while preparing breakfast in their absence. Twice. But Hoseok didn’t seem to care for it, instead focusing on watching the bags wind around the loop, staring at the name tags like he could set them ablaze with one look.

“Why don’t you sit, I can get the bags.” She meandered over to his side, inspecting the name tag of one of the many black suitcases that went by.

Hoseok’s nose twitched, his smile strained. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not hopeless.”

“Never said you were,” she countered flippantly. “But I also know that saving your energy for what matters is important, is it not?”

He said nothing this time, his response clipped and shoved away back where it had came from. Turning on his heel with a curt nod, he paced over to one of the benches and lowered himself on it with a grimace.

She wished he would just tell her how he felt instead of just shoving it down all the time. But perhaps that ship of their friendship had sailed. Maybe it was one they’d never board again.

After a few minutes, Yoongi and Jimin had come up beside her to help delegate whose was whose while Jin had disappeared off to speak with an attendant about their ‘special’ check-in item. Jungkook surprisingly stayed back unprompted, keeping Hoseok company on the bench and smiling absentmindedly at the pair of toddlers running around the open space, waving at them when one of them would stop and stare at his tattoos. The sight would’ve been cuter had they not made the first half of the flight a living hell–spitting on the windows and breaking into hysterics every time their toy unboxing video ended.

Jungkook was a saint in her eyes. Because while she loved children, even her patience didn’t always feel the same.

Once everyone’s luggage was accounted for, they took off towards the exit with new found energy, all of them antsy to get away from the screaming children and stuffy air. Hoseok was unusually quiet while he trailed behind, hands stuffed in his varsity jacket pockets and eyes glued to the tacky airport floors.

“How has my lady been?” Jimin placed a hand on the small of her back, herding her through the sliding glass doors, the warmth from his touch fighting off the evening chill.

Y/n preened under the nickname. “Here and there. Up and down–but certainly up to no good.”

Jimin’s smile took her breath away when he aimed it at her. “As to be expected with you.” He then leaned in, the fresh comforting scent of his cologne drawing her closer. “So what is this thing you were explicitly told not to share with me?”

She groaned, shaking her head out with vague disappointment. “Why can’t Namjoon keep his mouth shut?”

“Because it is Namjoon,” Jimin snickered.

“I told him I’d tell everyone when we got back. Preferably at home base.”

“I suppose I can wait a bit longer…” Jimin trailed off with a dramatic sigh popping open the trunk to the van and lining her suitcase behind it. Rolling up his sleeves he surveyed everyone’s bags with narrowed eyes, hovering over the aged leather gun case for only a second before setting his mouth in a stern line. “Biggest on the bottom. Yoongi, yours first.”

Y/n had offered to help, but Jimin pretended not to hear her, enlisting Yoongi for the job instead. It probably had something to do with the fact that her suggestion had been to “toss ‘em in there and see what happens”–something that made the edges of Jimin’s smile go stiff and forced when he ushered her away for the third time.

Her hovering was too cut short the moment she started shivering, Jin’s hands planted firmly on her shoulders to steer her to the front seat, opening the door and taking the time to click her seat belt in place.

“Can I have the keys?” Jin called to the back, Yoongi and Jimin’s incessant muttering ceasing for just enough time for the keys to sail into his cupped hands. He didn’t bother rounding the car, leaning his body over hers to slot it in the ignition and tap on every heating option there was, his torso entirely supported by the tops of her thighs.

Y/n sighed at the heat that ebbed from him, letting her forehead rest on his shoulder and rubbing it there with a cheeky whine. “You’re warmmmmm~”

Jin’s eyes nervously darted from the dashboard to her face. “I vaguely remember telling you to pack your coat in your carry on so you would be too.”

“See, but there’s no fun in doing that.” Y/n shrugged.

“It’s not about fun. It’s about staying warm.” Jin stood straight, one hand perched on the side of the door and the other fixing the twisted section of her seat belt. “We don’t need you getting sick.”

“I won’t,” Y/n said defiantly, wrapping her arms around herself as to prove a point. Her point was weak–teeth chattering and her shoulders shivering–but she still insisted on making it.

Jin gave her an unimpressed look, plush lower lip pulled up between his teeth, worry creasing between his brows. “Are you sure about that?”

“Confident.”

A playful glint appeared in his eyes. “Confident enough to make a bet on it?”

Y/n faltered. That bastard. That know-it-all cheeky little handsome bastard. He caught her. Pursing her lips, she grumbled out her response. “No….”

Jin made an exaggerated show of hubris, popping his coat hood collar like he was hot-shit and pushing up a set of nonexistent sunglasses. “Good choice. Team Seokjin for the win.”

“I didn’t accept the bet! You can win a game we weren’t playing.”

In one smooth motion, he tugged off his coat and tossed it over her lap, leaning in so close their noses almost brushed. “I just did.” His long hand pat her lap gently, tone taking on a more serious edge. “Keep this here. You should really stay warm.”

With that, he circled around back towards the back door and clambered into the back, tucking in his long legs to fold into the third row. Hoseok followed shortly after, taking his time to climb into the second row closest to the window, tugging the retro-striped wool beanie Yoongi’s mother had made him down over his head, arms crossed and body turned to look out the window.

It was then that something sweet and rich invaded her senses–cinnamon and crisp apples–drool already beginning to pool in her cheeks as she searched for the source.

She found the paper cup holders of steaming styrofoam cups in Jimin’s empty driver seat, and she scolded her scatter-brained temperament at the moment for not noticing it sooner.

“You brought us cider?” Y/n gasped, hands already itching to reach out and down the warm beverage with excitement.

The overhead lights kicked on, momentarily blinding her as the drivers side door swung open, Jimin passing the cup holder to you so he could haul himself into the seat. “I figured you could use a special treat to welcome you home. I picked it up from the local place in the city.”

Jungkook’s head was already popped up through the divider, licking his lips with excitement glittering in his russet iris’s. “Give me one.”

“Hold on!” Y/n squished a hand on his face and tried to shove it back through the seats to make room for her elbows to no avail. He was a man on a mission–eyes locked on target.

“You can pass that entire tray back. I already have ours here,” Jimin gestured to the two steaming cups waiting patiently for her to notice them within the built in cup holders.

All but tossing the tray back to Jungkook, she snatched hers up with urgency, taking a long drawn out sip. Now this tasted like home. The hot beverage sloshed down into her empty stomach and sent warmth straight through her bloodstream, signaling to her just how hungry she actually was. It would probably do her some good to eat something, but every time she tried to catch the thought it leapt from her hands and scurried off in the back of her mind, dashed away by whatever tale Jimin was spouting or to answer one of his less pressing questions about their trip.

Most of the car was asleep by the time Jimin was spinning the wheel up the steep winding road to the hotel–everyone except Hoseok–who she could feel staring at where her and Jimin’s hands rested on the console, fingers intertwined while Jimin’s thumb rubbed soft patterns on her wrist.

_________________________________________

“Alain?” Her mother’s brows rose into her hairline, muttering to herself. “I knew there was something going on with those two.”

“We had been set on Candida we didn’t even think about them being some kind of duo...of her being a weapon for him.” Y/n explained, pacing around Jimin’s office to ease the jittery edge that settled beneath her skin at being home again. Of being near her mother.

“I suppose it makes sense,” Mariah mused. “It just...it still does not explain you. Or your father.”

Y/n stilled, facing her mother head on. “It does though. If what Ani said is true, that the prophet predicted that Hoseok and I–well, a Jung and a Wörner–were going to have a baby, Alain would do everything he could to stop that from happening. That’s what drove him mad. Thinking his wife was having an affair with a Jung. Ever since then he’s been punishing everyone to get his way, even if it was impracticable. Anything he could pin his insecurities on is a threat. It would make sense why he was so enraged about me taking over the hotel, because me having more power of him is a threat. A reminder of what scared him the most.”

Mariah scoffed. “I don’t understand–it’s not like you and Hoseok are-”

Y/n’s expression must have visibly mottled, her mother’s words dying in her throat with a wide eyed observation. Mariah’s gaze flickered back and forth between them, her mouth parting to find something to say.

“It’s complicated,” Y/n finally choked out through gritted teeth. “Let’s just say that my lovely ancient uncle Clay has been messing around with us way longer than we first thought.”

Jimin finally perked up from his desk chair where he had been silently soaking everything in, rising to his feet. “How so?”

Y/n flinched under everyone’s expectant stare. This was the only thing from that night that she had actually kept private, finding it unnecessary to share the gritty details with everyone, mostly to not put Hoseok on the spot to talk about something that clearly messed him up. All she had shared was that they had been watched–the information about the kiss unimportant when apparently the whole house had already been convinced they were a thing.

Namjoon, who sat on of the chairs behind her, ran a hand comfortingly down her spine over his hoodie when sensing the stiffness in her posture, grounding her with his touch. “When?”

Sighing, she spared Hoseok a quick nervous glance before letting her eyes slip closed. “It depends on who you ask. I was young. Shortly after Matilda died.”

“I was 17,” Hoseok relented, leg bouncing wildly beneath the table.

Mariah looked like she wanted to climb the walls she was so impatient, but held it barely contained behind pursed lips and fidgeting hands. “What...What did he do?”

Y/n decided to go first. “He-”

“I need the bathroom,” Hoseok abruptly leapt to his feet. “Don’t wait for me.” He disappeared behind the heavy door, face taking on an unsightly shade of green.

Guilt swirled in her belly, a queasy feeling of her own gripping her esophagus and shaking it with an angry fist. Steeling herself with clenched fists, her gaze wandered to the vaulted ceilings and her breath burned.

“It’s disgusting so I’m just going to rip the band-aid off,” Y/n spoke to no one in particular, head angled upwards to avoid looking at anyone else. “He pretended to be Hoseok and kissed me in the coat closet while we played hide and seek. Then he donned my face like a costume at a New Year’s Eve party in high school and did the same to Hoseok. Why? I’m not sure. Seems like he wasn’t fond of Candida and Alain to begin with, so I think he was doing it to piss him off. That or he was already possessed by Alain, and it was his own sick and twisted way of giving himself a reason to attack.”

The silence was so heavy, Y/n could hear her breath dragging along the back of her throat.

Yoongi broke it first, a long string of curses slashing from his tongue with the sharpness of a whip. Namjoon had decided to take her place pacing the room, hands fisted into the loose fabric of his denim jacket. Jungkook was on his feet in an instant, stomping towards the door with his fist curled around the handle so tightly that his knuckles looked like they’d split straight through the thinned skin.

“W-where are you going?” Y/n stuttered out, a strange concoction of embarrassment and shame bubbling up into the back of her mouth, tasting suspiciously like acid and apple cider. She had nothing to be ashamed of, yet for some reason divulging the information just left her feeling...disgusting. Dirty and humiliated.

Jungkook looked at her as though the answer was obvious, anger so prominent in his eyes that his face had hardened into inexpressive stone. “To kill him.”

“Not if I don’t get my hands on him first,” Mariah hissed, charging towards the door and ripping it open, her heels echoing down the hall with her departure.

Yoongi ran a hand through his hair, cold laughter escaping his throat. “Someone take me in, because for once, I agree with your fuckin’ mom.”

With that, Y/n knew she had to step in before the room went off the rails.

“You, put that look in your eyes away. No one is murdering any ghosts tonight,” Y/n pointed at Jungkook with narrowed eyes before swinging it over to Yoongi. “And you, cool it. No need to make rash decisions.” Pressing two fingers into her temple to soothe a budding headache, she continued. “Really, there’s no need to over react. What’s done is done and it’s been almost two decades for me. We need to prioritize a game plan for getting Alain under control and finishing this shit.”

She waited for their rallying cry of approval–the confirmation and assurance she had expected to burst from them the second the words left her mouth. But it didn’t come.

From the corner of her eye, Jin stiffened, his fingers digging into the wood of Jimin’s desk. Yoongi froze, mouth open with his eyes locked on something over her shoulder. Namjoon halted his frantic pacing, hands dropping to his side and eyes narrowed at the door.

Jungkook spoke first, his greeting guarded and uncertain. “Mr. Kim.”

Ignoring him entirely, Jin’s father Yeongjin brushed past Jungkook to look at her with blazing condemnation, eyes set with simmering rage that bled out into the stern twist of his mouth.

“You will be doing none of that. None of you will be doing anymore harm than you’ve already done.” Fixing his scathing gaze onto Yoongi next he gestured to him with one stiff hand. “I always knew you’d be trouble. Stirring a pot that was already boiling over. Stacking logs onto an already roaring flame. Like grandfather like grandson.”

Yoongi’s spine curled inward. His fists clenched at his sides.

His next target was Jimin, clear disappointment flashing across his features. “Here I believed you were wise enough to make good choices–noble enough for me to trust in your judgment. Clearly that was a mistake.” That struck Jimin like a slap across the face, his shoulders flinching and his expression falling like wilted leaves. So entirely frustrated with just looking at Namjoon’s presence, he skipped right over him and stopped on his son, hand shaking with the emotion that hissed through his teeth.

“And you, how many times have I had to tell you to leave it be? How many times do expect me to just stand by and watch you ruin everything this family has fought to cultivate?” Running a hand through his thinning hair, Yeongjin blew a steady stream of air out of his nose and paced back and forth with the effort it took to contain his outburst.

Y/n shoved down the bile and childlike shame that rose in her throat at such a scolding, voice shaky. “It was my idea. Yell at me if you’re going to yell at anyone.”

Yeongjin let out a sudden sharp burst of bitter laughter, his smile void of any warmth. “I am well aware of who’s fault it is. Where do you think my son gets his abilities from? Who do you think had to go through those same struggles first? If you think for one second that I would assume that any of this was any of our families’ faults–you are just as bad as he was.”

“He?” Y/n’s voice was but a whisper.

“Duane!” His father stated as though it were obvious. “What, you spend all this time going behind our backs and meddling in things you have no business messing with, and you don’t even bother to learn what it is you’ve gotten yourself stuck in?”

Y/n’s nostrils flared, her lip quivering. Yeongjin’s voice softened if only marginally. “There are things about all of this that you just don’t understand-”

“Explain it to us then,” Yoongi interjected, arms crossed over his chest. “We are adults. This room is safe from eavesdroppers. Tell us why we need to stop or else I’m just going to keep going the second you close that door behind you. No more secrets.”

Jin’s father faltered, a wide range of emotions playing out in his eyes while he planned his response.

“Tell me about the prophecy.” It was Hoseok who spoke this time, leaning against the door frame with a scowl carved deep into his countenance.

“I am not supposed to-”

“Tell me...” Hoseok started forward into the room, grabbing onto the back of chair for support on unsteady legs, face slick with cold sweat, “...about that damn prophecy. I think I deserve to know.”

Yeongjin licked his lips while giving Hoseok a once over, face flooding with paternal concern for just a moment before falling into one of the sturdy wooden chairs with a defeated sigh, face buried in his hands.

“It was given by my great grandfather to Ernst–a holiday celebration gone awry. He was drunk enough to let it slip. What exactly he said has remains a mystery–even to me. It died with my grandfather and the agreement he made with Duane and Jung Yungho after Bear had fled. From what little whispers we could put together, we knew it had something to do with the Jung’s…..I knew. Your mother had asked me the night after your accident.” He lifted his head, giving Hoseok a look twinged with sympathy. “I had an inkling that what had gone awry with Candida and Alain was important. But the only thing we knew for certain was what he drilled into our heads: stick to the agreement and keep our heads low. Don’t add oil to the sizzling pan.” He glared pointedly at Yoongi.

“And what would happen if you didn’t?” Y/n folded her arms over her chest. “Keep your heads low, I mean. Did they threaten you? Did they give you any specifics to go off of as to what this deal was? And why it was made with Duane?”

“I never asked,” Yeongjin enunciated, coming to a stand and hovering over Y/n to look down his nose at her. “And neither will any of you. Especially not my son. What you are all going to do is forget what you learned, throw it away, and give up. You will not pursue Alain. You will drop this nonsense and leave it be. Unless all of you have forgotten, we have a wedding on the property in three months time. A Jung wedding. The last thing we need is all of you ruining it and throwing that entire family to the wolves. I forbid it.”

Silence rang out after his order, the room hanging on the precipice of total eruption.

“Fine.” Yoongi broke the tension, shoving his hands into his pockets and eyes set in stone. “We won’t pursue Alain.”

Yeongjin’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Whatever game you are playing-”

“No games. It’s the truth.”

The two of them held each other’s gaze for what felt like an eternity before Yeongjin turned on his heel, a hand hovering over Hoseok’s trembling shoulder but never quite landing the comforting blow he intended. With one last warning look to his son, he slipped out the door, the room hanging on the sound of his shoes smacking on tile until they were traded out for the echoing screech of the metal door handle, and the slam of the front door.

Fire burned low in her stomach. A blinding, nauseating rage curling higher and higher into her throat until it burned the back of her eyes. “No.” Y/n snarled, moving before her brain could catch up, racing after Jin’s father in a fury of squeaking sneakers and clenched fists.

He wasn’t just going to come in here and shut everything down when they were so fucking close. Just insulting Jimin, Jin, and Yoongi so casually and then leaving like it was something they deserved. The wild fever that thrummed in her veins over the last two days was clacking its jaws with joy at getting to unleash its claws on something, even if it meant doing something stupid and reckless–like starting a fight in the parking lot with Jin’s dad. Yeah, that sounded good right about now.

“Don’t,” It was Jin that had followed her, tugging on her wrist just enough to stop her movements.

Y/n groaned, her rage blooming into restrained tears. “He can’t just–we can’t just keep letting them stop us. There’s always going to be someone coming in here and telling us we can’t.”

“He’ll know,” Jin reasoned with her. “Anything we do–he’ll know.”

“And what could he possibly do?” Y/n scoffed, throwing her hands up in there.

Jin shifted his weight from one foot to the other, biting into the plush of his lower lip while he seemed to ponder her question, eyes looking anywhere but her. “Ask me a more specific question. I do better with yes or no’s to start off with.”

Y/n blinked away the moisture in her eyes. “Sorry?”

Jin gave her a ‘don’t make me say it again’ look and gestured to her with his hands.

“Uh, okay.” Running a hand down the side of her face she blew out a puff of air. “Would he do something to stop us?”

He deadpanned. “Yes. I don’t need prophetic powers to know that.”

“I’m doing my best okay? You put me on the spot.” Clenching her fists repeatedly at her sides to try and relieve some of the aching tension in her muscles, she tried again. “Would it have something to do with you?”

Jin’s nose twitched, the rapid movement of his eyes growing uneasy. “Yes.”

“What else did you sense?” Y/n squinted up at him. “You’re acting weird.”

“I just…” He looked off towards the room down at the hallway where Jimin was waiting for them with a hand on the door knob to hold the door open, angled towards the room like he wasn’t trying to listen in. Jin shook his head, meeting her gaze again. “I just got a feeling that I wouldn’t be here anymore. I don’t think a lot of us would.”

Acid simmered in her empty stomach, the nausea becoming unbearable enough to make her mouth water. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“I think he would convince people to leave.”

“Why?” The walls were closing in on her, the unbridled energy in her skin flickering out for just a moment, leaving her floating in an abyss of emptiness that felt too heavy to bear. Why couldn’t they just make a move without being trapped? Without having to risk being torn apart from each other?

Jin closed his eyes, inhaling deeply as if he was meditating, his expression softening while he dove through his own mind for an answer.

“Something bad is going to happen if we pursue Alain, and he knows it. Something bad enough to make him come here in person to tell us to stop.”

“Good thing we aren’t going for that fucker then,” Yoongi poked his head out of the door. “Come here. I need your...expertise.”

_________________________________________

Candlelight flickered across Jimin’s cheekbones, highlighting the soft wisps of dirty blond hair that were still a bit messy from when he had towel dried it after his shower. Small droplets fell from the longest tufts down onto the faded gray shirt with his old high school logo on it, staining his shoulders with darkened speckles. A dark pair of thick-framed glasses sat perched upon his nose, his brows furrowed and his thumb running mindless patterns over his lower lip as he peered down at the cards in his hand.

Y/n rejoiced in being in his company, don’t get her wrong–but right now, watching him spend five minutes mulling over each turn he made was killing her. Her need for fast-paced activities was still high, and Jimin was anything but face paced. He was the moon to her shooting star; irenic and slow-moving, its nonbelligerent path a methodical swim across a starry sky that was mapped out from beginning to end. Reliable and steady. And she was anything but that. Shooting across the sky while burning from both ends until she would crash land in some sorry farmers field without a moments notice. Unpredictable was her middle name.

Jimin’s fingers hovered over the draw pile on the center of the spread out blanket and she held her breath. The pads of his fingers stilled on the back of the violet cards, another pensive hum rumbling out from his chest. His hand withdrew back to his hand to leaf through them again.

Her eyelid twitched.

It was unknown to her how he could just sit there so tranquil and composed while their plans were all over the place.

Yoongi had enlisted Jin as an informer, using what he knew about his powers as a tool to try and skirt around his fathers. Bend the rules for as long as they could.

If they couldn’t go after Alain, then Yoongi decreed they’d go after the next best thing: Candida.

Focus in all efforts on getting through to her and hopefully get enough information about how to banish Alain for good without even interacting with him. Which that in itself was another problem.

Jungkook could only ban spirits from the property for so long–which meant that there was still research to be done. Practice to be had. Trial runs and safety plans to put in place. They’d probably only get one shot, and like Namjoon said, he’d rather take time to do it right the first time than mess up and practically release a ticking time bomb back onto the property.

Having to take their time was what was driving her insane.

Against everyone’s wishes, they all agreed to wait until after Hoseok’s sister’s wedding to make their first move. Which meant three months of lying low. Three months of acting like they weren’t doing anything. Of trying to pretend that being here while Alain was still on the loose didn’t make it impossible to breath normally–like the nightmares of finding her friends cold and bleeding in dark corners of the basement weren’t already haunting her waking thoughts.

And to top it off: they still had to fill in Taehyung, who hadn’t been able to make the meeting as it was the weekend, meaning he was too busy dancing the night away in a gorgeous all black suit that hugged him in all the right places that she didn’t even get to see in person. Just a quick, slightly blurry, green room photo he had sent her before the show had started.

It should be illegal to have legs that long.

Her gaze trailed back to Jimin sitting in front of her, the soft dewy glow of his freshly washed face making her heart soar. The urge to plant kisses along the apples of his cheeks overwhelming.

Finally, Jimin plucked the card she had just tossed into the discard pile and squinted down at it, adding it to his hand and discarding a king with a lopsided frown before acknowledging her over his spread. “Your turn, my love.” His sweet brown eyes flitted to the loaded snack plate near her thigh, mostly untouched. “You should eat some more. Jin said you haven’t really eaten.”

“One thing at a time…” She mumbled, skimming her cards lazily. Without much thought put into the action, she swiped a card from the draw pile and bit back a groan. Another number she didn’t need. Another color she didn’t have. Tossing out the highest number she had, she grumbled out to Jimin that he could go again.

After doing so, she grappled for the stem of grapes Jimin and Jungkook had so carefully arranged on the plate, she popped a large one in her mouth, the fruit perfectly crisp and juicy. Sweet enough to console her need for something stronger.

Jimin tracked a droplet of juice that escaped the corner of her mouth that she hastily brought her arm up to wipe away, watching her chew a few more times like he was scared she’d spit it out. His attention dropped back to his hand.

That same look of concentration pinched his features as it did at the beginning of every turn, and she wasn’t able to hide the impatient sag of her shoulders this time.

“Am I boring you?” He inquired without lifting his gaze, rearranging the cards in his grasp.

“No.” Y/n lent back on her hands, swiping a piece of fresh cheese off the plate and using it to point at him with. “You just take forever.”

One side of his mouth curved upwards, picking up a card from the draw pile. “Perhaps if you took a bit more time to think out your next move you’d have a better score.”

Nibbling off a corner of the cheese cube, she squinted at him suspiciously. “Why are you smiling like that?”

His sweet smile only grew all the more devilish.

“Don’t. You. Dare.” She threatened with a whisper.

Jimin gave her a sigh of mock sympathy, flicking one of his cards into the discard pile and separating his cards into two distinct sets, laying them out on the floor before him: A trio of matching fives and four cards in a sequential run. “You have to lay down now, in case you forgot how the game works.”

“You have to lay down now…” Mimicking what he said in a high-pitched voice under her breath, she picked up a card knowing full well she’d need a miracle straight from a unicorn’s ass to salvage her hand. At this point it was just damage control to get the least amount of points.

Picking up a new card was a bust. The only thing she could do was a measly run of three cards, the other four now tallied up on her score sheet while Jimin had a line of pristine zeros. Jimin couldn’t hide his smirk the entire time he shuffled the next hand, counting aloud while dealing them each eight new cards.

His lips moved delicately around each word. The little crease between his brows endearing. The way his fingers played with the corners of his cards mesmerizing. He truly was beautiful; even now, in nothing but paint splattered sweatpants and an old band t-shirt, he still managed to take her breath away.

Y/n learned nothing from the previous round, starting this one with a half thought out move and discarding the first one she looked at. A buzz from her pocket stole her wide-eyed stare at Jimin’s glacial movements to her phone, a notification from Taehyung visible on her screen.

[Taehyung🕺🪻]: <Image>

[Taehyung🕺🪻]: Same place?

The picture was of the empty theater, precariously taken to show just a glimpse of the tops of his thighs where his hand rested, nothing scandalous per say, but just the memory of how his touch felt on her own thighs had her pulse quickening.

[Y/n]: Later 😶😳

[Y/n]: I’m having a date night with Jimin~

Biting her lip, she gazed up at her boyfriend. With a small smile she scooched closer, holding her phone up high and smiling towards the camera. “Cheese!”

With no time to react, she snapped the candid photo of him still fervently stressing over his hand and giggled to herself.

“H-hey,” Jimin whined playfully, blinking away the shock of the flash. “What was that for?”

“Wanted a picture of you. Plus Taehyung sent me a photo, so I figured I’d return the favor.”

Jimin leaned forward to look at the screen while she typed out a message to go with it. Nothing special or out of the ordinary. Just a ‘Isn’t he lovely?’ tacked along the bottom. Humming again, yet this time the sound vibrated against her side from his proximity, Jimin used his finger to scroll the two messages back up to the photo Taehyung had sent, the image reflecting off his glasses.

“I’m not sure that was the kind of picture he was hoping for,” Jimin teased, nudging her with his shoulder.

Face flushed with a rush of warmth she responded. “Well, that’s too bad. I’m with you right now.”

There was a beat of silence. The kind that made a rush of anticipation hum through her veins when someone was about to say something they probably shouldn’t. The air thick with a palpable risk. It tasted so good on her tongue.

“Come here,” Jimin beckoned her closer, cards forgotten in a messy pile on the floor. When she hesitated on her knees in front of him, he pat the tops of his thighs, his smile deceivingly sweet. “Closer.”

“Jimin-”

“It’s fine,” Jimin assured her. “I’ll tell you if I get uncomfortable.”

With a thigh on either side of his hips, she sank onto his lap, fingers threading through the hair at the nape of his neck and fiddling with the silky tresses. He gazed up at her like she had poked holes in the fabric of the night sky and sewed the stars in by hand, thumbs running purposeful circles on her hips.

Cupping his chin, she brought their mouths together, kissing him slow and deep–the way she knew he liked. The warmth of his hand left her hip for only a second, returning before she could miss it to inch beneath her sleep shorts, hiking them just a tad higher. Playing with the hem like he had all the time in the world.

There was no rush to their movements, the drawn out roll of her hips just instinct at that point, not a race with some kind of end goal in mind. Simply just the two of them enjoying the motion the other offered. At some point, Jimin had guided her back to press into the floor, intertwining her their hands and holding them above her head with the lightest of pressure.

Butterfly kisses trailed down her throat, then stopped just at the edge of her jaw before moving to the other side, tilting her head to the side with a nudge of his nose to give himself more room to work with. It was tender and loving; a show of affection of the gentlest kind.

A giggle slipped through her lips, the press of his mouth growing even lighter until it tickled. Hovering back over her mouth Jimin paused, licking his lips. “This is about as far as I can go tonight. Is that okay?”

“Of course baby,” She caressed the smooth skin of his cheek, planting a kiss on the tip of his nose. “Whatever you are comfortable with is enough for me.” Her voice grew shy, her smile sheepish. “Is kissing still okay though? Or are you tapping out?”

“Those are always okay,” Jimin grinned, a flurry of kisses peppered over her face before she could stop it, the two of them giggling to each other like lovesick idiots.

“One more thing though,” He cleared his throat, reaching out to the side she had been sitting on and letting his fingers wrap around her phone. “Are you okay if I send him these?”

The question landed with a dangerous flip of her stomach, eyes landing on her phone’s screen that was now lit up with a series of timed photos of her and Jimin: his hands sliding up her hips; hers in his hair and running over his chest; her pinned to the floor with her hands over her head, chest arched into his; then the last one of her eyes scrunched close under the onslaught of his ticklish kisses.

“Are you okay sending him those?” She asked incredulously, ignoring the warmth that traveled lower at the mere thought of it.

Jimin nodded, his hair tickling her collar bones, a smile dripping with pride and adoration resting upon his lips. “I’m okay. I like showing you off.” His smile dropped to give her a look of the utmost sincerity. “Only when it’s okay with you, of course.”

Swallowing down the budding excitement, she nodded, growing shy. “Go ahead.”

Adding all the photos to a message, Jimin propped himself on his elbows to tap out a quick message.

[Y/n]: <images>

[Y/n]: Isn’t she lovely?😊 –J.

_________________________________________

Taehyung never did respond to the message, the occasional dancing dots showing up before sinking down and away from her impatient eyes. He also didn’t show up in her dreams that night. Clearly, her move had completely flustered him.

For the next handful of mornings at breakfast, his cheeks had a permanent pink dusting to them, his eyes unable to choose whether or not he stared at Y/n or Jimin. Whomever he chose it was always with widened eyes and his mouth slightly agape, blinking a few times to try and tear his attention away to whatever Namjoon or Jin were lightheartedly bickering over.

She relished the fact it had such an effect on him, a little cruel part of herself seeing how far she could push his buttons by blowing him a kiss when no one was looking, giggling when he choked around his next bite. Brushing against him when they passed in the hall. Sitting close to him while they all gathered round Jimin’s office, discussing the shared expectations and goals for their own abilities before they reconvened for their next “book club” meeting as they had begun to refer to it as.

They had to come up with some kind of reason as to why they were all still meeting up together, and what better excuse when the library was right there?

The only thing about that was that they had to play the part–all of them reading the same book openly around the house and chatting about it over dinner or while walking the halls. Treating it as though it was her mother’s idea to reconnect with everyone.

A shit lie, yeah. But it seemed to do the trick. There hadn’t been a single violent or unruly sighting since Mr. Kim’s warning. Nothing but the usual shadowy stragglers and unmoored spirits that passed through the grounds.

Her mental state was still spinning of kilter, nearly as unstable as the September weather forecast that just couldn’t decide whether or not it wanted to accept that autumn was on the horizon, or if it was going to run back into the sweaty arms of summer. It didn’t help that Hoseok was ignoring her since they had returned.

Not in an outright way that if she were to corner him she could prove it, but in a way that was so quiet and so unremarkably subtle that she couldn’t call him out without looking crazy. Each time the low blow of his absence started to twist her gut and curl her spine inwards, her brain surged the opposite way like a pendulum that’s weight had been tampered with.

No matter how many evenings she spent doing manual labor in the greenhouse with Namjoon or hiking with Jin and Jimin at the state park nearby, nothing seemed to quench her thirst long enough to let her mind slow and her body rest. She was always chasing more.

Thankfully though, this looked to be playing out in her favor that day. Literally.

During their Wednesday night ‘book club’ meeting, Jungkook had shared his current goal was to strengthen his senses when it came to the land of the living–to stretch the boundaries on how far and how accurately he would be able to pinpoint any of their locations. While he was doing his best to practice on his own, he wanted to put his skills to the test. Which meant he needed to practice on someone.

And who better to practice on than all of them?

Which is how she found herself huddled in the corner of a cafe in downtown Gettysburg that next Thursday afternoon, straw pinched between her teeth and leg bouncing with anticipation.

Yoongi was tucked away in some kind of wax figurine exhibit; Namjoon and Jimin were elbow deep in the official Gettysburg museum; Jin had volunteered to hang out at the ice cream parlor with Taehyung; and lastly Hoseok, driving aimlessly around the town and through the battlefields, never staying in one place. Always moving.

Surprisingly, Hoseok had actually volunteered to drop her off at the cities edge instead of Yoongi, though the ride had been silent and awkward, she was grateful she got to see him at all. She tried to not let the sour taste in her mouth get to her at the thought of Hoseok’s short, forcefully cheery responses and fixed her thoughts back on Jungkook and the task at hand.

Her pulse quickened.

This strange game of meta-physical manhunt had begun.

Today was a test to see how far he could go. To train his abilities until they broke and then push them a little further. If he could track all of them from such a distance, it would mean that no matter where they were on the grounds, Jungkook would be able to find them–all of them. Their own personal bodyguard that could watch over them without even needing to physically see anyone.

It had been almost forty-five minutes now with no update. Not a text or a phone call from anyone. The only thing she had was the final ping of his location before he had turned it off at the start of the hunt, starting off in the dead center of the hotel lobby.

And the anticipation was driving her up the wall more than the caffeinated beverage in her fist.

Pulling out her phone to check for any kind of update from anyone, she found her screen blank. She supposed she should give Jungkook time. If traffic was bad it would take him almost thirty minutes to even get to town, and then he’d have to pinpoint at least one person’s exact location before he could even think about finding parking–

Her phone buzzed.

[The Most Annoying and Toxic Coworkers’]

[Zoltar 🔮]: Fuck. The kid’s got me. I’m out.

[🔍Sleeper Spy🔎]: HA.

[🔍Sleeper Spy🔎]: i thought you said this wasn’t a competition?

[Zoltar 🔮]: It isn’t.

[Joon 🧸🌱]: Looks to me like someone is feeling pretty competitive.

[Zoltar 🔮]: I’m not.

[🔍Sleeper Spy🔎]: last one caught wins?

 [Midas(s)✋🃏]: 👍👍💨 💨

[Jimin 👂👻]: 🫡

[Jimin 👂👻]: Challenge accepted.

[Jin 🛎️]: Guys we shouldn’t compete. It wouldn’t be fair.

[Zoltar 🔮]: Thank you. Finally someone with a brain.

[Jin 🛎️]: Because we all know who’d win...

[Jin 🛎️ changed their name to 🥇 Team Kim Seokjin 🥇]

[Zoltar 🔮]:un–fucking–believable.

[🔍Sleeper Spy🔎]: HAHA suck it, loser!

[🔍Sleeper Spy🔎]: wait

[🔍Sleeper Spy🔎]: where’d Jin go?

[🔍Sleeper Spy🔎]: …..

[🔍Sleeper Spy🔎]: fuck. i’m toast.

[🔍Sleeper Spy🔎] <sent an image>

Y/n was on her feet in seconds, tossing her empty cup in the trash and pushing open the glass door out into the city air. The blurry found-footage-esque looking photo of Jungkook booking it towards Taehyung lighting a fire under her feet. If Jin was allowed to move, no way in hell she’d sit around waiting to get caught.

Outside on the sidewalk her phone buzzed once more, the group chat spurring into a frenzy.

[Jungkook ⚫⚫ 🔪]: 🫵 I’m coming for you.

The message sent a trill up her spine, her skin buzzing with the warning that her body seemed grasp onto like a promise.

This was the thrill she needed.

Without drawing too much attention to herself, she adjusted the lapel of her jacket and shifted the bulk of her scarf. Acting natural felt impossible when her heart thrashed wildly in her ribs. The fact none of these people around her knew what was really happening at that moment–that to everyone else she just looked like a local moseying about the brick streets of town and not a woman hunted–god, it shouldn’t be making her feel so delirious. Especially when it was by the one person she’d be safest with.

Each step was buoyant, as though she was a skipping stone on rippling water, bouncing across the street to the next block. After a dozen feet or so, it became apparent that she wasn’t the only one who had abandoned her post. She caught Namjoon ducking into a used record store, frantic and fumbling to close the door after him. Hoseok’s car slithered over the cross walk she was waiting for.

They were all too similar. All too competitive for their own good.

The cars ambling about the roundabout slowed. The lights switching from red to green. And out from the bend of the center circle came Jin: hand tucked into the pocket of his denim jacket, the other nursing steaming cup of cider like he wasn’t sweating enough already beneath his collar. They met on opposite ends of the cross walk. Slipping by one another in a wind of indifference, looking nothing more than strangers crossing paths. She tossed him the smallest of grins.

He regarded her over the lip of his cup.

The edges of his mouth turned up.

His elbow brushed hers, zapping her skin through her coat and kicking her instincts into high-gear; one word floating around her head in a twinkling carousel.

Trap.

On the other end of the block she had just stepped onto she saw him: dark jeans tucked into heavy black boots, curls spilling out from his star wars beanie, and his tattooed hands curled into the pockets of his black weatherman’s jacket. He had just reached the record store, tugging at the handle with a composure so unbothered it made her almost nauseous.

He caught her eye if only for a second, his stony expression unyielding. His lips shifted enough to hint at a smile, tongue coming out to prod at the metal ring that encircled his lip.

Then he disappeared into the record store, leaving her heart pounding in her throat and her hands clammy.

She was next.

Turning on her heel she picked up the pace back across the pavement, speed walking down the sidewalks where Jin had just trickled off to. She found him scanning a shop’s store front, looking so peaceful she wanted to laugh. His peace was over if she had a say over it.

In seconds, she had woven herself through the thin crowd and to his side, hooking her elbow through his with the biggest shit-eating grin she could muster. “Where do you think you’re off to, prophet? Trying to lure me into the lion’s den, huh?”

Jin bit back a smile, putting on a show of mock innocence throughout his defense. “I would never! All I did was walk past you, I can’t help it if you were to just so happen to get caught right after.”

“Uh-huh,” Y/n nodded along, tightening her hold on his elbow. “If that’s the case, then I’m sure you wouldn’t mind if I tagged along with you for a bit.”

He choked on his sip, his movements growing skittish and jumpy the closer she got to him. Tossing an apprehensive glance over his right shoulder, he stuttered. “T-that wouldn’t be ideal.”

“No? And why is that?” She leaned in, resting her head on his shoulder to keep him in place.

“Because–“

Their phones buzzed simultaneously.

[Joon 🧸🌱]: He got me T . T. He’s onto you!

“Come on, hotshot. Let’s see if your feet are as fast as your brain.” Y/n dragged him forwards, leading him down a thin alley behind a parking garage and wheeling him out onto a different main road, taking them in the direction of more of the historic buildings.

“We can’t go this way!” Jin’s expression paled.

Before she could ask where they should go she heard it: heavy boots trailing after them in no hurry to catch up quite yet.

Y/n didn’t have to look behind her to know who it was–she could feel him the closer he got.

In a split decision, she released Jin from her hold quick enough to send him staggering, hopping across the street just in time to see Jungkook pat Jin between the shoulder blades like two children playing tag. She needed to move.

She darted down the block like a bull set loose on the city streets, the store fronts and brick homes passing her in a blur. Rounding the corner towards a little noodle shack, Hoseok’s black car glided by, her arm coming out to wave desperately at him.

He screeched to a stop, popping the passenger door open for her to dive in.

“He’s onto me! Drive!” She cried, sinking into the leather and out of the view of the window.

Hoseok didn’t have to be told twice, pulling back out into the busy streets and steering clear of the center of town.

“Where are you headed next?” Y/n gulped down a breath, tapping on the group chat to see the updated messages.

Hoseok shrugged, the ghost of his true self shining through his lazy grin. “Depends. Where did’ya wanna to be dropped off?”

After a moments deliberation and a quick peek at Jin’s pouty message that Yoongi was raining a torrent of cheeky gifs to in response, she thought about where her best chances would be.

“One of the hiking trails near the battlefield. Or the public park.” Biting her lip she weighed both options with a shrug of her own. “Whichever comes first.”

Hoseok nodded, gripping the wheel a bit tighter. Then with a voice strained as though speaking to her was physically painful, he asked “So who’s left anyway?”

“Me. You. Jimin.” She listed off, ignoring the weird undertone she couldn’t sniff out. Her phone pinged again, a dramatic crying gif followed by a single message.

[Jimin 👂👻]: HE’S TOO FAST. TELL Y/N I LOVE HER. HOSEOK, AVENGE ME!!!!!!

“Scratch that,” Y/n snickered, responding to the message with a salute. “Just you and me.”

“Damn,” Hoseok cursed, a weak laugh falling out shortly after. “I know it’s just Jungkook and all, and this is just a training thing or whatever–but he’s kinda terrifying.”

“Absolutely terrifying,” She breathed out. “Thank god he’s so sweet, who knows what hellish world we could have lived in if he wasn’t.”

He snorted through a real smile, nudging her arm with his elbow that rested on the console. “Hey, drink to not having to deal with that as kids, right Ducky?” As if realizing what he had just done, he ran a hand through his already tousled hair, brushing his grin away with it. “W-we should probably split up. Being together probably gives us away.”

Holding back an eye roll at his clear excuse to be rid of her, she grit her teeth and agreed with a hum that she fought tooth and nail to not sound so dead. “Sounds like a plan.”

Hoseok winced, eyes fluttering from mirror to mirror, then back to the road ahead.

There it was again, the urge to run through the woods or climb a vaulted ceiling. Swinging from the base of the chandelier in the hotel lobby sounded like a great way to forget the past two minutes. And the next five after that where there was nothing but the mumbled strumming of an electric guitar through the car speakers and the hum of the engine.

Houses melted into grassy fields, wooden fences bleeding into walls of trees and winding trails. Hoseok came to a slow stop besides a trail-head, unlocking the door with a flick of his finger. “See you on the other side?”

“Hopefully not the losing side,” She joked, dropping onto the cobblestone path.

Hoseok cleared his throat for the tenth time, fingers drumming on the steering wheel faster than the song called for. “Y/n?”

“Hmm?” She paused, resting her hand on the doors edge.

He averted his eyes once more. “I hope you win.”

Running her tongue over her teeth, she took her time appraising him. Everything about him screamed uncomfortable. Scared even. Words grated across her vocal cords with a sincerity that dug into her like a pair of ill-fitted shoes. She tried to tell herself that she was only referring to the game and nothing more.

“I hope we both win.”

Slamming the door shut, she started down the path with an urgency fit for a general’s retreat. If she stayed near him any longer she couldn’t promise herself that she wouldn’t climb the tallest tree she could lay her eyes on and scream from the top of it.

Taking refuge under the canopy of yellowing trees, she plopped down onto a bench about a quarter mile down the trail, sucking in a measured breath that unfurled its wings across her chest and shook her free of the rust that had begun to erode her mood. Their lunch break was scheduled to end within the next thirty minutes–not that it particularly mattered to her or Jungkook. And most of the others had probably begun their losers trip home to save time, awaiting the victor’s message of triumph.

Five minutes blew by on the back of a cool breeze; a breath of fresh air before the smoke. The calm before the storm that she could sense brewing, the hairs on the back of her neck coming to a stand and her arms shuddering with a wave of goosebumps.

The energy here was already overwhelming, ghosts of the past swarming every embankment or leaving muddy boot prints over sprawling fields. She wasn’t strong enough yet to pinpoint any one in particular, which left her at quite the disadvantage when it came to Jungkook. He could be anywhere and her budding system would be too overridden to tell.

Still, she tried. Closing her eyes and feeding into the roots and twining vines of her senses, giving them room to breathe in a space so vast and open for the taking. It explored with the delicate twist of leaves and curious blossoms, nudging at whatever wandering energy it crossed–but never prying.

A disturbance tremored from somewhere down the path.

Not anything outwardly assertive or demanding, but a presence that stole the attention of whatever it was near. A presence to be respected and revered, like an animal that crept through the halls of his home–not necessarily a threat, but not something one should turn their back to.

Y/n clutched her phone in her hand, the skin over the knuckles drawn taught, ushering her juvenile tendrils and energetic flowers back in to the safety of her chest. The phone in her hand finally buzzed.

[Midas(s)✋🃏]: 😪 🏳️ 🏳️

The time stamp of the message sent her mind and nervous system reeling. By the looks of it, he had typed it out not more than a minute after she had been dropped off, it just hadn’t been able to break through the treeline until that moment. Cursing her reception, she stuffed the phone in her pocket and stole one last glance towards the way she had came, just managing to see a dark shape growing larger in size. Taller and wider. Each step more confident than the last.

Their eyes met.

Turning away down the trail, she kept her steps relaxed. Her pace even and unhastened by his encroaching presence. Gravel crunched beneath his boots. He was close enough now for her to hear the swish of the waterproof lining of his jacket.

Anticipation setting her nerves on fire, burning her from the inside out. Fear was present, yes, but the good kind. The kind that pinched her ear in its hand and told her to run just to see what would happen.

And she was not in the state to say no to a good chase.

She took in one last satisfying breath.

With a speed that startled the birds overhead, she kicked off into a sprint, reminding herself that it was just Jungkook she was running from. Y/n didn’t care about the fact that she had already won over the others–her brain high off the beat of her own heart and the rush of blood under her skin just thinking that maybe she could beat Jungkook too. She was losing her mind. She must be. Yet at the same time, it felt good to lose it. The suspense aching in her chest; the thought of being caught wrapping so deliciously beneath her ribs, scratching at the itch she hadn’t been able to reach since the night at the cabin.

Jungkook matched her speed without hesitation, already closing in on her with so little time needed.

A sudden right hand turn and she was off the path, climbing up a leaf littered hill with the help of lanky, sideways tree trunks and gnarled roots to pull her forwards. Her only hope at getting ahead would be to throw him off.

It had only worked for a few seconds where he hovered on the woods edge, peering after her like he wasn’t sure if she was serious. Then his competitive nature must have won him over, guiding him up the hill and after her with legs long enough to close what little distance she had gained. Couldn’t lie and say that this wasn’t fucking exhilarating. Jungkook must be able to smell the instability on her, increasing his speed with a second wave of confidence. It’s funny that harder the urge was to run, the easier she probably was to chase.

Pure delirious glee settled in her bones, bouncing with each step she almost dared to feel giddy. Her mind needed this. Knowing Jungkook would close in on any second and that he probably would gave her the boost she needed to win back the gap, the steep incline settling out in a flat, rocky, plateau of trees and overgrown grasses.

She couldn’t see him anymore–couldn’t hear him either. But that didn’t stop her from going until everything ached and her lungs begged for air, forcing her to take shelter behind the thick trunk of an oak tree and gulp down as much oxygen as she could.

Deep ridges of tree bark dug into the palms of her hands that she braced against the tree for support, straining her ears for even the smallest hint as to where he could be. She could have sworn she heard the crunch of leaves, but it was so impermeably soft she couldn’t pinpoint a direction or a distance.

A twig snapped beneath the weight of a step. Was it her own?

“I win.”

She leapt about a full foot in the air, back pressed into the tree and a broken scream falling from her mouth, his hands shooting out to steady her with a firm grip on her elbows.

Jungkook tilted his head slightly, lip pulled up between his teeth to worry over, though the action did little to hide the smug lift of its edges. His chest rose and fell rapidly and his cheeks were flushed from the wind, giving him a roguish look that made her knees weak. “I didn’t scare you, did I?”

“Not enough,” Y/n breathed out in relief, hooking her hands into his jacket and yanking him closer.

Their mouths crashed together like a tidal wave, adrenaline still warping her senses and making her hungrier, craving the safety of his warmth and the comfort of his taste even though he had been the one to make her head spin.

Bracing his hands on either side of her head, he deepened the kiss, equally as ravenous from the efforts of the chase as she was.

Rough was something Jungkook rarely ever was–especially not with her. But right now he threw caution to the wind, lips setting a bruising pace that bled against hers with such desperation it had her sighing into him, one of his hands finding her hip and choking out what little space was left between them.

“If I would have known that a game of manhunt was all you needed to come out of your shell, I would have started running yesterday.” Y/n laughed, tipping her head back to let him pepper kisses down her jaw and over whatever skin he could access around her coat.

Jungkook grunted softly, pulling away from her skin to smile at her in a way that was somehow so subdued, yet still self-assured and borderline cocky. The gleam in his eyes doing most of the work. “Run again,” He licked his lips, “See what happens.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?” She twirled a lock of hair that was spilling out of the edge of his hat.

He responded to her question with a subtle shift of his thigh, slotting it between hers and using the hand on her hip to press her down onto it. A whine caught in the back of her throat, the place where his leg met her core starting to throb with want.

“What do you want it to be?” He mumbled, nudging her nose with his before letting it travel lower, kisses going soft and timid while he awaited her answer.

A drunken grin inched its way across her lips. “You’re brave today, baby. Are you really so worked up that you’d do something here? In public?”

Jungkook shifted his weight back so he could survey the area with fidgeting uncertainty, eyes darting over the lonesome trees and cracked rocks, not a living soul in sight. Instead of answering, he closed in again, settling his grip back on either side of her hips. “We have to stay quiet.”

“Planned on it,” She sighed out in relief when he began to guide her hips over the muscle of his leg, almost all of her weight supported by him and the tree behind her.

Every nerve was heightened from her current state, the flimsy cotton seam that rubbed over her clit with each languid roll of her hips already soaked with her arousal. Her muscles already shaking from so little. Jungkook noticed, swooping in like he always did to anticipate just what she needed next, undoing the buttons on her pants before moving onto his own. His zipper fell next, his thigh pulled away from between her legs just long enough to pull himself free, helping her slide hers down her shaking legs and exposing herself to cool breeze, goosebumps running freely over her thighs.

“Ple-” She caught herself, the word trapped in the tight muscles of her throat. She never begged with him.

And Jungkook never missed anything–certainly not that. It was like a fire had been lit behind his eyes, pushing her flush to the tree and hoisting both of her thighs around his waist, lining himself up to her entrance like it was second nature and pushing in.

He didn’t let it get to his head, if anything it broke him down into nothing but a whiny mess that pleaded through low whispers to let him please her–a mess that grunted each time she deliberately tightened around him just so she could hear him whine so beautifully into the safety of her shoulder.

He was so desperate to give. So eager to please. She liked that–liked seeing how far his adoration could stretch. Liked seeing him melt into her hands without a doubt in his mind that she would take care of him.

Something switched in that moment, her ravenous energy growing an appetite for trust. For control, not so much her own pleasure.

“Kook,” Keeping her voice low like he wanted her to, she continued. “You’re doing so good baby. You hear that?” She took two fingers and spread herself wider for him to see, giving more room for the obscene sounds of him disappearing into her to escape. “That’s all you. You did this to me.”

His breaths grew ragged, a choked out groan muffled by her coat that he had pulled between his teeth.

“I want you to look at me,” Wrapping her fingers around the back of his neck she pulled him out into the open, her walls fluttering at the absolutely wrecked expression that greeted her. “There’s my baby~” She cooed, thumb running over his lower lip, her body jolting against the tree with how wild his thrusts had gotten.

Instantly he dipped his chin to capture the digit into his warm mouth, sucking gently on it and looking up to her in a way that just begged her to praise him.

“So good to me,” She mumbled, leaning forward to hover her mouth over his, she swallowed down the high-pitched cry the new angle pulled from him, drawing lazy shapes into his cheek. “Can I try something? Nod for yes, shake for no.”

Jungkook nodded urgently, torn between dropping her thumb from his mouth and kissing her.

She made the choice easy, removing her digit from his mouth and coasting her palm down the column of his throat, stopping just below his jaw. “Say ‘red’ if you want me to stop, okay?”

With equally enthusiastic response as before, she kissed him again, sliding her tongue in to run along his teeth and coax his own out for her to suck on, moaning into his mouth when he shuddered into her. He was breaking quick, hips wet and smacking against her skin with his with reckless abandon, and she knew just how to finish him.

Tightening her hold around his throat, she felt the tender skin give to her grip, his breath scraping just enough to give it a roughened edge when it panted from his lips. “You know what I want?” She whispered again, loosening her grip to let him catch his breath.

“T-tell m-me, please,” his pleas stuttered in time with his hips.

“I want you to be honest with me,” Y/n tutted down to him, drawing soft shapes into his cheek with her free hand. “If you don’t, I’m going to press harder. Is that understood?”

Another nod.

“How often do you think of me like this?”

He stiffened, face flushing crimson. “I-I don’t-”

She added a little bit of pressure to her grip, clicking her tongue. “Be honest.”

“E-every day,” He managed to get the answer out through his teeth, not without his neck flushing a pretty pink.

“Everyday?” Y/n repeated, letting go of his neck to run her hand down the expanse of his chest, dancing over the sliver of exposed skin where his shirt had ridden up. Letting the tone sting for only a few seconds, she leveled her gaze with his and let it fall heavy between them. “And what exactly do you think about?”

Jungkook’s expression pinched with what little was left of his self-restraint, like even just the thought of his fantasies would send him off the edge before he wanted to. He chose the safe answer. “You.”

“I figured as much,” She laughed down at him, hooking the pad of her finger on his chin and pulling his mouth open, admiring the way in which his tongue had instinctively come out to accept whatever it was she wanted to give him. “Details, baby.”

Hesitation flickered over his eyes, his hips slowing their pace and growing clumsy. A gentle curl of embarrassment wrapping around his countenance. Yet he still didn’t tell her to stop.

“How about this: I’ll ask, and you tell me if I’m right. Okay?”

The simple offer had him humming in agreement, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. “Okay.”

“Good boy,” Smoothing a hand over the loose curls that had begun to stick to his forehead, she started, voice deceivingly sweet. “You think about fucking me like this? Where someone can see me?”

Jungkook’s eyes squeezed shut. He nodded.

“I thought you didn’t like people seeing us?”

“I like when they know I can make you f-feel good,” He struggled to keep his tone even. “When they hear you.”

With a sharp roll of her hips as a reward for his honesty, he stretched deeper, the satisfying sting of feeling so full making her toes curl. She took a moment of her own to catch her breath before asking her next question.

“Do you like filling me up–like watching it drip out after? Enjoy seeing what a mess you make for me?”

His answer was nothing more than a choked out groan, thrusts uncoordinated and sloppy. He was barely holding on and she could feel it with each pulsing drag against her walls.

Landing her final blow, she trailed wet kisses from the edge of his mouth to his ear, hand clasped around his throat as a warning. “You like stuffing me full until I’d have no choice but to give you a baby for being so good to me, huh?”

It should have been him she had warned to stay quiet, squeezing his throat to quiet the unabashedly load moan he let free.

“That’s okay baby,” She threaded her hands through the back of his hair and gripped it as tight as her hold on his throat, the legs wound around his middle locking him in place so he couldn’t try and run from how good it felt. “Go ahead. Give me one. Prove to everyone else how good you fuck me.”

Eyes rolling back into his skull, his hips stuttered one last time, the sounds that fell from his lips so loud she had to silence them with the palm of her hand and a gentle squeeze of his throat. The sound was enough to send her over the edge she didn’t even realize she had been teetering on, a quick explosion of pleasure that faded out into her limbs and left them tingling in its wake.

With his forehead nestled to her chest, he fought to catch his breath, slowly guiding her legs back to the ground as his own had grown so unsteady.

“You okay?” Y/n finally asked, smoothing her hands over his shoulders to cup his face. “Too much?”

“No,” He mumbled out with a firm shake of his head. “I...liked it.”

Pecking his lips a few times, she dropped down to help shimmy his jeans back up into place, pressing soft kisses here and there as she saw fit. When it came to hiking her own back up around her waist, she soothed his fret about cleaning her up with a wink and a sly grin.

“There’s no need. I think I’d much rather stay like this until we get home. You can help clean me up later if you want.”

“Fuck,” Jungkook cursed, wide eyes zeroed in on watching her fingers do up her zipper. “You...You kill me.”

“Fitting considering you, the reaper, keep coming back for more.”

Taking her hand in his, she let him lead the way down the hill and back to the trail, finding it cute the way he watched every step like she hadn’t been able to sprint up it on her own. Still she leaned into him even if she didn’t fine it necessary to do so, let him take care of her in ways that felt natural.

She didn’t think it was possible for him to blush so much–his cheeks never letting go of the dusty rose hue for the rest of the evening. The color only deepening when Yoongi had decided to poke around and ask where Jungkook had caught Y/n.

The glass of water he had been reaching for bumped to the side, blooming dark stains across the dining room table cloth. Yoongi had snickered about it, no doubt able to read just exactly how Jungkook had caught her from the invisible clouds of color that plumed about the two of them when they had sheepishly arrived home, leaves stuck to their clothes and skin damp with sweat.

That and of course the feverish glow to Jungkook’s cheeks that he just couldn’t dim.

Most of the table laughed. Some of them even joining in on the subtle jest with a few well placed jokes of their own. Most of them about how Jungkook probably let Y/n win so he could have her alone.

The only person that didn’t was sinking further into his seat, fork twirling about in his hand thoughtlessly while he plastered on a half-hearted twist of his lips, the light of it never quite reaching his eyes. Bouncing leg shaking the table in a way that no one had the heart to correct.

It struck her hard. Harder than she cared to admit. The only thing taunting her mind was that she couldn’t help him. There was simply nothing she could do.

The towering wave she had been surfing on for almost a week now starting to crash, her energy beginning to flicker like an old porch light long past due for a change.

Y/n grit her teeth.

She didn’t want it to go out yet.

If it did, the dark would rush in to fill the void of its absence, forcing her to strike a match of her own and wield it in the face of the shadows she didn’t wish to see–the ones that opened poorly stitched wounds with sharp tongues, letting them bleed out memories of her spun out on a bare mattress in a lonely apartment in a city that wasn’t hers. It’s iron-like scent layered with something that wreaked of cheap alcohol and abandonment issues.

A single string connecting that moment to the present; tied tightly around the part of her brain that processed grief. The part that grieved what was and what is. Forever missing who he was, while also mourning a part of him she never even got to have.

Rejection in the name of love was always a hard pill to swallow.

The taste of dinner died on her tongue.

She shook her head, the action equivalent to tapping her index finger against the loose bulb, bringing back it’s blinding and almost painful brightness. All her energy now focused on squeezing every last drop of this high that she could.

_________________________________________

Wood floor boards creaked beneath her feet, each step heavy and uneven. She paced like a wild animal would along the perimeters of their cage, hands clenched into fists that dug painful divots into her palms, jaw so tight her teeth ached in protest.

Spit dripped out the edges of her mouth, foaming and dripping in thick rivulets down onto her boots.

There was nothing left about her that felt human.

Nothing but rage.

Hands ran along her scalp. A scalp that didn’t belong to her.

Through the dark she stumbled, grabbing onto the wall for support and leaning her weight to it, using the indents in the wooden slats like rungs of a ladder to pull herself forwards. She collapsed on through an open door, blazing hot skin meeting the soothing embrace of cold tile, the flesh of her cheeks tender and swollen. The skin around her eyes itchy.

Breath rattled in and out of her lungs, shaking one cough after another, warm liquid pooling into her cheeks and splattering onto the floor she could barely see. This felt like what she had imagined death to be; for if this wasn’t death, than it was something entirely worse.

Her hands grappled for the edge of a porcelain sink, the digits thicker and the palms rougher.

When she was able to stand, it triggered the little motion activated nightlight plugged into the outlet. One of hers from when she was a child–a little yellow moon perched atop periwinkle clouds.

Her father’s face greeted her in the mirror, illuminated by that tiny yellow moon.

Cavernous scratches ran through his cheeks, the borders crusted over with scabs repeatedly torn. His eyes were dark–almost black–the thin golden iris stretched thin over the massive pupils, ballooning over into yellowing whites. Ridges formed in his skin, the veins pulsating and clotting with disease. With evil.

His hands clawed at his cheeks, ripping open the wounds he had already mangled until they bled, staining his hands and face crimson and black.

“I love you,” He whispered to himself through cracked lips.

“I love you.”

His stare bored into his own eyes, searching for her in there. Like he could feel her presence behind the them.

“I love you,” His touch was soft now, moving to caress his reflection in the mirror.

Silence fell over the dark bathroom, his body going so still the light had turned itself off. Chattering foxes and squeaking bats communed outside the window, running back and forth through the trees and soaring through the branches over head.

“I love you.”

They suddenly stopped, going quiet with the wind and the gargling intake of breath her father took.

His fist shot through the glass, shattering a hole through it where his face should be, the image of him jagged and abstract–unrecognizable.

“I love you,”

Despite the violent and unforgiving nature of his fist smashing through the mirror again, his voice remained hollow and strained, a bitonal whisper that burned each time he said it.

When all the glass was gone and all that remained was his bloody fists and the cracked wood of the frame, he grabbed for the light next, wrapping his shaking hand around the soft plastic and ripping it from the wall hard enough to splinter the outlet. He crushed it in his palm, shoving the shards of glass that stuck to his hands deeper into the skin.

The pain somehow soothing the darkened ache that craved violence.

She squirmed against the unpleasant sensations. Writhed around the malice and vengeance that she felt burning within. It tasted like self-righteousness and insecurity at the same time.

He must have felt her in there, somewhere tucked near his heart and hidden deep in his mind. For he spoke again, this time heavy with a regret so poignant she could feel it twist her own stomach.

“I love you.”

His head made contact with the remains of the mirror, slammed against it on his own accord. Then again. And again.

The same three words falling from his lips like a mantra.

And in that moment she felt true horror.

Because she could see–could feel his sincerity in the actions–and somehow still find the truth in what he said. Those three words felt like a threat. Like a noose wrapping tighter around her neck and pulling her closer with each crunch of his forehead against the wood.

He did love her. But he would bludgeon even himself to death if it meant quieting down the noise in his chest she made.

He had no reason to come for her, but he would.

She knew he would.

And he wanted her silent.

Y/n awoke slowly. There was no start after what she had seen, just a slow, blinking ending to a dream she couldn’t shake.

Early morning sun fluttered through the blinds of Jimin’s narrow room, glinting off the dusty Morse code transmitter on the shelf above his desk and the hardcover history books he had stacked into neat towers on the wood.

She could wake Jimin. She knew she could. He would hold her close and rub soothing circles into her back while coaxing her to talk about it with open ears and a warm smile.

But she didn’t want to talk about it.

She wanted to sit with someone that wouldn’t make her talk. That would make her laugh and give her space to be free of the weight of it for a minute.

And he was physically just down the hall, but mentally he was elsewhere. Would he take her request as a shove into something he didn’t want? Would he think she was trying to play with him?

She just wanted her friend.

Time ticked with seconds leaden by dread. Inching along while she tried to find that push of energy that had carried her for so long, a security blanket against the horrors that having to be patient brought upon her anxious mind.

Finally her phone went off, giving her the distraction she needed. It did its job quite well, the newly made group chat that was only a handful of days old making her smile to herself. It reminded her that there was much to look forward to today.

[🎉Why are we whispering?🎉]

[Jin🎂]: I’ll be leaving shortly to gather “the goods”.

[Yoongi �]: You don’t have to keep calling it the goods. He’s not in this chat.

[Jin🎂]: All “The goods” will be procured by 4pm.

[🪅Hobiii 🪅]: ur leaving already??

[🪅Hobiii 🪅]:it’s only 7am.

[Jin🎂]: Who’s fault is it that the cake was ordered from a bakery halfway across the state??????