In battle, there are not more than two methods of attack — the direct and the indirect; yet these two in combination give rise to an endless series of maneuvers.
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The Art of War
Sun Tzu

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Whatever happened within the next few minutes would mark the beginning of the end for Taehyung.

Well, that or maybe just the end.

After days of laying low, weeks of fleeing across the country, and years of questioning his safety, today was the final culmination of it all. The enemies of Korean National Oil had found and cornered him, and this time, Taehyung had to accept defeat. He had to recognize that his freedom, his future, and possibly even his life were over.

Over.

While his assessment of his circumstances might come off as overly dramatic to some, Taehyung knew there were no more opportunities to evade his attackers. There were no more chances to figure out who the hell was behind all of this. He had run out of places to hide, and he lacked the naivete needed to believe someone would swoop in to save the day. The outcome of this morning wasn't bound to be pleasant, and the sooner he came to terms with that fact, the easier his surrender would be.

That was, of course, if he was even afforded the dignity of surrendering in the first place. If the constant shriek of bullets tearing through metal was any clear indication, these people weren't here to engage in a civil conversation. They wouldn't settle into the sitting room, mildly discussing their demands while trading gossip over tea and rice cakes. No, these people would probably shoot him in cold blood just as they did his mother and Namjoon, using his death as a means to destroy his father's career.

Lovely.

There was no use in denying how bad - how really fucking bad - Taehyung's odds were. Judging by the increasing number of dents perforating the door leading to the garage, he most likely had under five minutes until things went up in flames completely. And when they did, when that door was forced open and shooters swarmed the bunker, all he once knew would slip through his fingertips.

All he held dear - everything he should have appreciated more - would be gone.

Gone and out of reach.

Surprisingly, the thought of meeting such a pointless and possibly even violent end didn't drive him to insanity. His legs didn't give out and he was still conscious; he wasn't down on his knees, praying to anything and anyone out there for help. And he wasn't cowering in the corner, rocking his body back and forth as he fell apart entirely.

No, none of those paralyzing responses overtook his senses when contemplating his inevitable fate. He didn't lose control or become inconsolable whatsoever. Instead, an overwhelming flood of acceptance relaxed his muscles and calmed his erratic heartbeat. His wild thoughts settled and turned introspective; his previously tear-filled vision cleared. All of those things happened because of one thing that went right:

Jungkook got away.

Jungkook. Got. Away.

Watching his sweetheart flee the bunker was simultaneously a stressful and serene experience. Part of Taehyung was reasonably terrified for what Jungkook could experience in the real world. In the event that something went wrong, he wouldn't be there to provide firsthand protection or act as a human shield if need be. He wouldn't be able to defend the younger in any functional capacity; all he could do was sit tight and hope for the best.

An even larger part of Taehyung, however, was so unspeakably happy that Jungkook wasn't here, waiting idly in a cage for someone to lock the door. A glowing warmth relieved the tightness in his chest once he understood that his love was going to make it out of this mess alive; Jungkook was going to live a long and full life away from this fucked up world, where he would discover his passions and find peace again.

Jungkook was going to survive.

That euphoric revelation was powerful enough to eradicate any lingering traces of trepidation.

And while his heart was blissfully at ease - it was sheltered and secured in Jungkook's hands, after all - his mind couldn't help but be practical. As soon as he decided to send his boyfriend off, he understood that there was an extremely low probability of a reunion. To give the younger a fighting chance, to provide him with the happy ending he deserved, Taehyung needed to stay behind. He had to do all he could to keep the gunmen distracted, focused on him rather than watching over the orchard. And if he remained in this bunker, waiting out their enemies' imminent invasion, he would not emerge a free man.

If he had to be realistic, Taehyung didn't think he'd ever see his sweetheart again.

Acknowledging that truth wasn't easy in the slightest. That internal admission nearly stopped the world from spinning on its axis, the space between each second getting longer and more drawn out until time threatened to pause altogether.

Taehyung didn't want that sad, emotionally charged parting to be their last moment together. He didn't want the teary exchange of I love yous, the faint, barely-there kiss, or the gentle lie that everything was going to be okay to be Jungkook's final memory of him. None of that was a worthy enough parting for the love of his life.

If Taehyung could go back, he would better show his love for Jungkook. He would've kissed him with more passion, ensuring that the touch would forever leave a lasting impression on his lips. He would've let him know that no matter what happened, he'd always be there in mind, heart, body - and if things went poorly - in spirit. He would've just looked at him, speaking the words only his eyes could tell.

But Taehyung had been so shaky with panic and the need to get Jungkook as far away from here as possible that he did none of those things. And regardless of the time he had left, that would be his biggest regret for the rest of his limited days.

Fuck, Taehyung hated having regrets. He always thought it was so useless to cling to the past, to resent oneself for over something that couldn't be changed. He realized that harboring disappointment was the easy way out and only served to hold one at a fixed point, restricting their potential and keeping their future stagnant. So instead of envisioning all of the things that could have - should have - been done differently, it was essential to move on from mistakes.

It was imperative to learn.

Over the last few weeks specifically, Taehyung learned a hell of a lot. Yeah, that also meant he screwed up a hell of a lot, but he discovered so many important lessons through those faults. He learned to cherish his family and friends, to never take their presence for granted. He learned the cost of hesitation, of letting panic control one's rational mind. He learned that a life without purpose - without passion - wasn't much of a life at all. And he learned what it meant to love another so openly and honestly, to experience a connection he never thought existed.

Those were valuable lessons, all of which were contrived from meaningful experiences he chose to learn from rather than regret. They helped him to make smarter choices for his future. But what about now? What if Taehyung no longer had a future? Should he still attempt to learn a lesson so he could do better next time if there wasn't a next time?

Fuck, all of this went to show that nothing was guaranteed. The inhales and exhales he took weren't guaranteed. The beat of his heart wasn't guaranteed. The chance to banish his regrets in favor of uncovering new wisdom wasn't guaranteed. That realization seemed to open the floodgates of Taehyung's mind, allowing wave after wave of contrition and remorse to rush through his system. And along with his prior guilt over not giving Jungkook a proper goodbye, he allowed himself to reflect on all he wished he'd done but would never get the chance to do.

On the surface level, Taehyung regretted his inability to thank Yoongi again. The Chief did so much for both him and Jungkook over these last couple of weeks, choosing to provide guidance rather than berate them for their countless number of fuck ups. The result of this morning would undoubtedly affect the rest of Yoongi's career - probably not for the best - and Taehyung was disappointed he'd never get the opportunity to convey his appreciation in person.

There was also the bitter - and perhaps selfish - lamentation of not having the ability to experience life outside of being an heir. While Taehyung never complained about ignoring his dreams in exchange for laying low, he regretted not experimenting, playing, or exploring as much as he wanted. All he had wanted was to discover who he could be besides Kim Taehyung, son of a CEO and heir to a fortune. He wanted to unearth who the real Kim Taehyung was; he wanted to become his own person.

As expected, Taehyung also had many regrets tied to his father. Ever since the murders, he longed to find his way back to his dad, falling into his arms as they grieved together. He needed comfort from the person who loved his mother just as much as he did; he needed to hear stories he'd never heard about her. On top of all that, Taehyung wished he could've introduced his father to the man he wanted to love for the rest of his days. After years of being told to follow his heart, it would've been special to show his dad where exactly his heart had led him.

And finally, there was one last regret that weighed down each and every one of Taehyung's bones: he wouldn't be the person to keep Jungkook safe, happy, and loved throughout his life. Just thinking of everything he'd wanted to do with the younger - to heal together, to become one family, to always stand by each other's side - left Taehyung feeling unfulfilled and crestfallen. He wanted to experience life with his sweetheart, to merge their past and present selves and move towards a better future. He wanted to love Jeon Jungkook more and more every single day.

Taehyung had so many regrets, but leaving his love all alone was perhaps his biggest regret of all.

And yet . . .

Maybe all was not lost for Taehyung.

He understood that he could still give Yoongi gratitude, could still discover his life purpose, could still show his father where his heart had brought him, and could still bestow his eternal love upon Jungkook. In order to accomplish each one of those noble quests, Taehyung knew what he had to do. He had to stay behind - remain in the bunker - and do everything possible to buy back borrowed time and attempt to take down his foes.

And that was why he stayed. Not out of duty or guilt, but out of love. And hopefully, one day, his loved ones would understand that this wasn't a sacrifice in the least. No, this was Taehyung's salvation.

So sure, whatever happened within the next few moments would mark the beginning of the end for him. But maybe it would also signal the start of something new, something better, for the people Taehyung cared for and loved most in this world.

With renewed strength and determination, Taehyung rose to his full height and rolled back his shoulders. If he was going to go down, he wouldn't make it easy for the attackers. No, he would do everything in his power to unleash hell on the bunker. And when he came face to face with his enemies, he would not hesitate this time.

He would do whatever needed to be done.

Another vicious bang resonated around the bunker, though Taehyung realized that the shooting had died down considerably over the last few minutes. Instead of the endless stream of bullets, there was a new, lengthy space between each shot. And in between those periods of silence came previously unheard sounds: voices engaged in a heated argument.

Odd.

It sounded like internal dissent - a disagreement over what to do next - and that piqued a poorly timed curiosity within Taehyung. So while he knew it was reckless and impulsive to investigate, his inquisitiveness won out.

Edging into the hallway, Taehyung kept his back pressed against the wall and his gun poised in front of him. He moved quickly and quietly, knowing he had to find cover before the shooters managed to fire through the worse-for-wear door. While no bullets managed to pierce through the metal just yet, that sort of luck was not sustainable forever. And Taehyung certainly did not want to be exposed when the gunfire finally ruptured the door, breaking through the thick layers of material and bursting into the bunker.

He made it to the kitchen without incident, keeping away from the door but remaining close enough to hear the people in the garage. A few of the tones were lighter - more questioning - while the others were harsh and demanding. They were unfamiliar to Taehyung; even though the voices were muffled, he had no clue who these attackers were.

But one thing was evident: these people were tense. And tense individuals tended to be irrational, not thinking through their actions before doing something stupid. That concerned Taehyung.

"Put your fucking guns down!" Someone screeched, irritation lacing her every vowel. "They gave us the signal to stop, so why the fuck aren't those weapons on the ground?"

"I thought the whole point was to get inside? A few more shots and that door will be down," a second person countered, though he spoke with less authority and conviction than the first.

There was an indignant scoff before the first said, "Alright, then. Go against orders. Good luck when they find out you directly disobeyed their request."

"For fuck's sake, will you both just shut up?" A new, still unfamiliar person joined the conversation. "The only reason they had us stop is because they found another way in. This will be over soon enough."

That third person continued speaking after that - dictating something about waiting for the next cue - but Taehyung could barely register the words. A roaring, whooshing noise filled his ears, adding to the pounding of his pulse in his neck. If the shooters were told to stop their attempts to get inside, if the attackers found the tunnel to the bunker, did that mean . . .?

Did that mean they found Jungkook as he tried to escape?

No.

No.

Taehyung's entire body started to tremble, his muscles losing every ounce of their previous strength. He took two steps back but didn't make it too far; he tripped into one of the backpacks Jungkook had set by the door, falling to his knees and narrowly missing slamming his head on the floor. His breathing was ragged and completely out of control, all thoughts centered on his sweetheart.

If they had Jungkook . . . If they took him again . . .

Fuck.

Taehyung had to get to the orchard fast, had to find his love now. He had to do something - anything - before things escalated further, before the visions of a broken and bloodied Jungkook became a reality.

He couldn't lose another person he loved.

Sucking in a deep breath, Taehyung rose on unsteady feet. He nearly lost his balance, stumbling into the wall before regaining a small piece of composure. He knew he had to get his shit under control in order to help Jungkook; breaking down and falling apart were not options.

Right. Okay. He could do this.

Or so he thought.

Because nothing - nothing - could've prepared Taehyung for the voice he heard next, a voice he only heard when calling up his nightmares.

"Taehyung."

Chills erupted over Taehyung's skin as the familiar and velvety tones of that voice filled the bunker. The pitch, vibrato, and depth sounded so real, so lifelike, but that was impossible. This had to be a dream. Because if the person who owned that voice was truly behind him, that meant . . . that meant . . .

That meant Taehyung was out of his ever-loving mind.

A creak of a door - to the tunnel, no doubt - and a heavy footstep made him flinch. This person who sounded like his dead bodyguard . . . his dead half-brother . . . was getting closer, yet Taehyung couldn't so much as turn around. His muscles were locked to the point of uselessness; his body couldn't keep up with the number of signals his brain was firing.

He was completely immobilized.

"Taehyung, can you let go of your gun for me?" The voice questioned carefully, softly.

Despite the gentle nature of the question, Taehyung violently shook his head. No, he wouldn't let go of the gun. It was his lifeline, the only piece of weaponry that might save him and Jungkook. He couldn't just hand that over to someone he saw killed before his eyes, someone he was probably hallucinating because his fucking brain had clearly exploded.

Two more footsteps reverberated up the hall, bringing this person - or a figment of imagination - closer and closer. "It's okay, Taehyung. You're just in shock. But I need you to listen to me, alright? I need you to hand over the Glock so no one gets hurt."

No shit, Taehyung was in shock. It wasn't every day that a man who sounded just like his dead bodyguard-slash-brother sauntered through the door, politely asking him to drop his weapon and cooperate. And even though his mind had difficulties registering all of that, he still found one thing pretty strange. This person knew the make of his gun. Hell, this person knew he had a gun. At this distance, especially with his firearm partially concealed by his body, it would be difficult to tell he had a weapon, let alone discern the manufacturer of his pistol.

Though as quickly as that thought came into mind, it flitted right out. Because not two seconds later, a warm, very alive hand placed itself on Taehyung's shoulder.

"Tae -"

Taehyung recoiled from the touch, shrugging the hand off of him before rising to his feet. In an instant, he spun around and had the Glock aimed, though it noticeably shook as his eyes met the person across from him. While he had recognized the voice - while his battered logic had told him who that voice belonged to - he hadn't been prepared to see that face.

The face of his dead bodyguard, dead friend, and dead brother.

"Namjoon?"

As soon as he said that name aloud, the air was sucked out of Taehyung's lungs and his vision went spotty. The memories overpowered his system, transporting him from this bunker and to the safe house just a few kilometers away.

He could clearly see a flustered and aggravated Namjoon, flitting all over his old bedroom as he searched for some misplaced belonging. He could hear the bodyguard rebuking his request to go to the market, could hear the impatience in his tone. He could feel his feet sneaking him out of that house, taking him away from his cage and towards a small semblance of freedom. He could still feel the warm breeze as he spoke to the stranger in the market, setting off the chain of events that forever changed the course of his life.

And then the yelling and the arguing clamored in Taehyung's head, pairing with the sight of an unknown gunman aiming a gun at his mother. There was the screaming - so much screaming - as Namjoon ordered the man to stand down. And then there were the deafening gunshots, the tickle of tears over his cheeks, the tremors in his fingers. The blood. The silence.

But the memories didn't stop there. No, the memories crawled from his mind, danced along his spine, and became a living, breathing presence in the room as Taehyung recalled his pain. The guilt over his hesitation dried out his mouth, the anguish of witnessing two murders caused his stomach to roll, and the grief for his mother and his friend brought tears to his eyes. He remembered it all, he relived it all. He knew what he saw and what he experienced.

And yet someone who was shot before his eyes was standing here whole, intact, alive.

"It's me, Taehyung," Namjoon said calmly, raising his hands to signify that he meant no harm. "You can put down your gun."

Taehyung raked over his former bodyguard, noting the unkempt hair, exhausted eyes, and sallow skin. There was a weary aura that clung to the elder, like he'd been awake for days with no opportunities to rest. But while his appearance had certainly seen better days, his clothing was uncharacteristically neat. Ironed pants, crisp shirt, shiny shoes. It was a weird juxtaposition, to say the least.

"I saw you get shot," Taehyung responded once he finished his appraisal, keeping his gun positioned between them. His voice came out low, but it was more stable than he expected it to be.

A soft hum of acknowledgment left Namjoon's mouth as he glanced at his shoulder. "I did. A bullet went right through my arm. I was lucky it didn't hit an artery."

"I thought you died." His voice cracked on the last word, showing just a fragment of the shame and sorrow he harbored these past few weeks. He had to hold himself together; he needed to control his emotions so he could figure out what the hell was going on.

"I didn't," Namjoon confirmed nonchalantly, shrugging before subtly wincing in pain. "The guy missed all my vital organs."

There were so many questions fighting to take precedence, but Taehyung chose to ask one he already knew the answer to. He just needed to hear the words spoken out loud, he guessed. "And my mom?"

The elder's eyes widened imperceptibly before he looked away, almost like he couldn't bear to see Taehyung's face. "She didn't . . . I'm sorry, Tae. She didn't . . ."

Taehyung knew his mother was dead. He did. He had even started to accept her murder over the last couple of days, had started to acknowledge that she was no longer here. But hearing a verbal affirmation was like a knife to the gut and he couldn't stop the moisture from pooling in his eyes. He couldn't stop his arms from lowering in defeat, the gun forgotten at his side.

"I don't think she felt any pain," Namjoon continued a few seconds later, his voice nothing but a remorseful whisper. "It seemed pretty instant."

A wave of nausea pushed up from Taehyung's stomach, causing him to clench his jaw. Despite his best efforts to banish that sight of two bullets plunging into his mother's chest, the memory replayed like a movie in his head. He saw it all again, felt his heart break again, cried his tears again.

"Tae -"

"Jungkook," Taehyung cut him off, needing to focus on the present once more. "Jungkook went through the tunnel to escape through the orchard. Did you see him? Is he alright? Fuck, we need to get out of here. There are people with guns in the garage and they said -"

"Hey, calm down. Jungkook's okay. He's with his brother-in-law . . . my husband. He's safe," the elder reassured him, finally lifting his gaze back to Taehyung. "He'll be okay."

A long, relieved exhale pushed through Taehyung's lips as he let that news sink in. Jungkook was okay. He was with Jin, a person who proved to be on their side. He was safe. He was alive.

And now . . .

And now Namjoon was here to save the day, just like he always used to do.

Setting the safety on his Glock, Taehyung tucked the gun into the waistband of his pants. "You never told me that you were married."

There was no sheepish or remorseful expression softening the elder's features; no, there was just the simple tightening of his mouth. "You understand this world better than anyone, Tae. Loving people is a risk. They become a liability. It's safer to keep them as far removed from danger as possible."

Taehyung agreed with that to an extent. Hell, he experienced the same internal conflict over how to best protect Jungkook. And while he certainly viewed the younger as a liability - an obligation, if he was honest - in the beginning, he was so much more than that now. He was a person with his own thoughts and feelings, a person capable of making his own decisions.

Namjoon's eyes briefly scanned around the bunker, taking in the simple appointments and the sparsely decorated rooms. His actions were a bit jerky, a little too abrupt, but Taehyung could guess why. The bodyguard probably had to dodge gunfire amidst bringing Jungkook to a safer location, then again when he made his way back to the bunker.

And while Taehyung knew they should flee before the shooters - who were strangely quiet - started firing once more, he felt the inexplicable need to figure out all the details he didn't yet comprehend. So he asked, "What happened up there? How did you get here without someone seeing you?"

"I managed to get the situation under control," the elder muttered, creases etching across his forehead as his brows knitted together. "But look. We really don't have time to catch up. I know you have a lot of questions for me, but we need to get out of here. I have a car waiting by the end of the tunnel."

What? How did he manage to get a car into the orchard during the shootout?

Taehyung shook his head, trying to clear the confusion that was veiling his mind. "Where are we going?"

"Somewhere safe," Namjoon huffed under his breath, crossing his arms over his chest. It was only then that Taehyung realized he was holding a gun . . . a Sig Sauer.

Jungkook's gun.

A prickling started at the nape of Taehyung's neck as he eyed the gun, his own hand unconsciously moving to rest over his Glock. "You're not going to tell me where we're going?"

Namjoon didn't say anything further to confirm or deny.

"Joon?"

The bodyguard's gaze was ping-ponging all over the room, landing on everything and anything besides Taehyung. But finally, after a few strained moments, he cleared his throat. "Jin is waiting in the car with Jungkook. Let's go."

For a reason Taehyung couldn't quite explain, he didn't move even a centimeter. Again, he was plagued with questions and needed to understand more. "Do you trust Jin?"

"What?"

"Do you trust him?" He repeated as he began to wonder just how much Namjoon knew about his husband. "Does he have good intentions?"

"I don't get why you're asking me these things." The elder shifted his weight back and forth, seemingly expending excess energy as he stood in place. But Taehyung saw it; he saw the incremental steps he took closer to him.

"Jin's admitted to both Kook and me that he was involved in my mother's death, Joon. He's working with Park Bogum, who also indicated he was playing a part in all this." After a second of deliberation, Taehyung added, "I doubt I need to remind you of who Bogum is. You dated him after all."

Namjoon's head whipped in his direction, his mouth parted and eyes wide. "Taehyung -"

Taehyung's back straightened as his fingers grazed over his gun. "You knew he was my ex. You knew what he put me through. I told you everything about my relationship with him and you never said anything. Why?"

"It's not smart to mix one's professional and personal life. Telling you about my history with Park Bogum wasn't essential to my job. And don't get me wrong, Taehyung. Being your bodyguard was my job. Not trading dating horror stories."

"Right, your job was to keep my mother and me safe. Yet you married someone who confessed to abetting the nefarious plans of my ex - of your ex - who also happens to be the son of our company's biggest competitor. Tell me how that was supposed to keep us safe."

"I'm not going to discuss this with you right now, Tae," Namjoon said, his tone deep with a warning. "I'd like to get us out of here before the situation unravels, and I'd very much appreciate it if you'd cooperate."

In the past, Taehyung would've listened to his bodyguard regardless of his uncertainty. He would've blindly followed orders. But after witnessing so much destruction, experiencing agony and self-hatred, finding the love of his life, and learning more and more half-truths, Taehyung wasn't going to put his faith in someone without regard to their demonstrated reliability or trustworthiness.

"I need to know if I can trust the people you're bringing around Kook and me," he said as his eyes bored into Namjoon's. "I don't trust Bogum in the slightest. And knowing that Jin has been working closely with him doesn't exactly make me feel confident. He did help us before, but how do I know he won't turn on us down the road?"

"Jin's not going to hurt either you or Jungkook," the bodyguard affirmed softly but not without feeling. "You can trust me on that."

"Can I?"

Namjoon's eyebrows sunk low on his forehead. "What kind of question is that? You've known me for three years."

Sure, maybe Taehyung knew Namjoon for over three years, but it was becoming increasingly evident how little he knew him. It was alarming to have lived with someone for so long, to have relied upon someone for his safety and wellbeing, only to realize he'd been kept in the dark on so many important matters.

And taking a step back, looking at everything from an objective point of view, a list of secrets Taehyung was never supposed to know about grew longer and longer. From Namjoon's marriage to Jin to his past relationship with Bogum, from the GPS tracking chips to concealing the fact that he was alive . . . There were too many hidden truths. And, of course, there was the biggest unanswered question of them all:

"Why didn't you tell me who your father was, Namjoon?"

It was a risk bringing up this topic, a risk that Taehyung did not have the time to take. But he lost all ability to make rational, calculated decisions. No, those went out the window as soon as a person he thought was dead reentered his life without warning.

Rather than feigning confusion or putting together a half-assed attempt at denial, Namjoon kept his features blank and stoic. There wasn't even a trace of shock lighting his eyes. "How long have you known?"

"How long have you known?" Taehyung countered, his mind hazy as he tried to make sense of the bodyguard's reaction. He desperately needed clarity and blunt admissions, but all he got was more confusion. "Why did you keep that from me? If you knew we were brothers -"

"Jungkook is the only brother I have."

"But we share a father -"

"That man may have given me life, but he is no father to me," Namjoon cut him off strongly, taking another small step forward. "I don't have a father at all. And the only family I know is my brother and my husband. That's it."

When Taehyung learned of his relation to Namjoon, he had a lot of mixed feelings. He couldn't help but be angry with his parents for never saying anything, and he also felt betrayed that Namjoon kept silent over the matter as well. Sure, there may have been extenuating circumstances he wasn't aware of, but regardless, everyone seemed to know about the blood ties except him.

And although he was upset, he never denied the truth. He never tried to find secondary explanations or doubt the evidence he found. Because at the end of the day, there was no opposing that his father had another son and that Namjoon was his half-brother.

Though according to Namjoon's reaction, he didn't want to accept the truth whatsoever. He seemed to have all the family he wanted and was unwilling to open his heart any further. But that still didn't explain why he chose to be Taehyung's bodyguard, why he chose to work for his father and protect half-brother. If he didn't recognize them as his family, why did he stay so close over the last three years?

"Did you know who I was - who my dad was to you - when you interviewed?" Taehyung asked hesitantly, allowing the elder one last chance to clear any misconceptions. Maybe he honestly had no idea, maybe this was recent news to Namjoon as well.

It was a silly hope to hold onto, one that was shattered as soon as the elder spoke next.

"Yes."

Taehyung stumbled back a step, the raw admission of that one word as powerful as a bullet to the chest. Underneath the layers of hope, he had suspected as much. He had guessed Namjoon had known from the very beginning, but hearing that confirmation now . . . It still caught him off guard. But even through that surprise, Taehyung felt that something wasn't adding up.

Something wasn't right.

Taehyung's heartbeat slammed against his ribcage as he ran through everything he knew, everything he thought he knew, and everything he just learned. It almost didn't feel sane to doubt Namjoon, to have suspicions. But that didn't stop the knot from forming in his belly, that didn't stop his fist from fully closing around his Glock.

He studiously watched Namjoon's face, trying to figure out the missing pieces to this entire scenario. There had to be something so completely obvious staring right at him, though what it was . . .

Taehyung had a hunch as to what it was.

He prayed to all that was holy that he was wrong.

"There are people in the garage. Shooters trying to get inside the bunker," Taehyung murmured, his tightly coiled nerves making him jumpy and wary.

"You mentioned that," the bodyguard replied indifferently, not appearing too nervous at all.

"You have a car."

"I do."

Oh, fuck, Oh, no. Taehyung wanted to be wrong - he needed to be wrong. "You said you have the situation under control."

A smile that was probably meant to appear reassuring tugged on Namjoon's lips, but to Taehyung, it looked forced. "That's right."

And that's when Taehyung really noticed it - the calmness that clung to Namjoon. The man was shot - the victim of a murder attempt - though he wasn't apprehensive or overly frightened. He wasn't asking Taehyung to duck down, to stay behind him. He wasn't looking over his shoulder with his gun raised. He wasn't one bit concerned that there was a shootout just minutes ago, a shootout that could continue at any given moment. Hell, he wasn't trying to be careful or diligent at all.

No . . . Namjoon wasn't afraid or fearing for his life.

And it was then that Taehyung remembered that Namjoon had been alive this entire time. He'd been alive but made no active effort to let anyone know - not Jungkook, Taehyung, or his place of employment. Even when Taehyung's mind had been obliterated from witnessing two murders, he managed to let people know he was okay. He hadn't wanted his father to worry for one unnecessary minute, so he did everything in his power to let him know he was alive. He put in the effort to save his dad from heartache.

Namjoon did none of those things.

Giving the bodyguard the benefit of the doubt, maybe he thought it wasn't safe to reach out. Sure, that was certainly plausible. But there was a dark nagging at the back of Taehyung's mind, making him question whether or not Namjoon wanted others to know that he was alive.

"Why are you here, Namjoon? How did you find us?" Taehyung whispered, cursing his voice for sounding so weak.

"I already told you that we don't have time to go over this," the elder shot back, completely evading his question.

"You're not worried about the people in the garage, and you say you have the situation under control. You have a car to take us god knows where. You didn't tell me about Jin, or Bogum, or my dad, or being fucking alive. And then you just show up without giving me any answers? What am I supposed to think, Joon?"

Namjoon didn't answer.

That was an answer enough.

"Please don't tell me you were involved this entire time, Joon. Please," Taehyung begged, pulling his gun out from his waistband when he noted Namjoon shifting his own weapon in his hand.

"You don't understand, Tae. You're jumping to conclusions," the elder said through clenched teeth. "And I don't have time to try to convince you."

"No, I don't understand. I need you to help me. I need you to tell me what the hell is going on because right now, right now . . ." Taehyung couldn't even finish the thought.

But Namjoon pushed the subject. "What?"

"I don't trust you," Taehyung let out, holding his bodyguard's gaze. "I don't trust you. You could choose to explain things to me but you're not. All you're saying is that we need to leave and . . . Oh my god. You want us to leave before help arrives, don't you?"

"I don't want anyone else to get hurt, Tae. So please -"

"Anyone else?" Taehyung was going to be sick. His palms were slick with sweat and the floor was unsteady beneath his feet. "Holy fuck, Namjoon. My mom?"

Namjoon looked down at his feet, and that was the final blow for Taehyung. It was an indirect admission, a silent concession. It was the answer to the who, a hint at the why.

A broken sob pushed out from Taehyung's mouth as he pulled out the Glock, disengaging the safety and aiming it at his bodyguard. His friend. His brother. "I blamed myself for weeks. I was right there when my mom was shot . . . when you were shot. And I had the opportunity to stop it all from happening and I froze. I was so fucking guilty that I didn't save you when I had the chance. You were the only friend I knew for years and I was useless when it mattered most. But you never saw me that way."

"Taehyung," Namjoon raised his head, his eyes softer than before, "come on. As the heir, you have to understand -"

"The heir. Is that all am I to you? Not your friend. Not your brother. But the heir?"

There was a bubbling sensation in Taehyung's chest, though he wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or break down. Even after all these years, Namjoon didn't see him as anything besides the son of a multi-billion dollar CEO. The only comrade Taehyung had had - the only source of companionship and comfort outside of his mother - never cared for him as a person.

He was just the heir.

Taehyung's throat burned as he fought back his emotion, but the effort was futile. A stray tear rolled down his cheek as he said, "I let myself believe this was all I could ever be. The heir. Nothing more. And sure, no one ever told me otherwise. But I'm the only one to blame. Now, look where I am."

Speaking those words aloud caused more tears to wash over Taehyung's cheeks. Ever since his father took on the leadership role at Korean National Oil, people only valued him for his connections and money. His ideas, interests, personality . . . None of it ever mattered to his peers. No one ever saw him as more.

No one until Jungkook.

When Namjoon didn't opt to say anything additional - to deny or provide clarification - Taehyung spoke again. "What do you want? What's your end goal?"

"I want you to come with me," the elder said stoically, nodding his head back towards the tunnel. "I need you to come with me."

Again, Namjoon answered with non-answers, causing Taehyung to tighten his grip around the gun. "But what do you want?"

"Taehyung," Namjoon started, shaking his head like he was struggling to come to a conclusion, "if you care for my brother at all, you'll come with me."

Was that a poorly veiled threat? Would Namjoon endanger his own brother - transform him into a pawn - to get Taehyung to comply with his orders?

Previously, when Taehyung learned his love was safe with Jin - a person who proved his trustworthiness - he was content. He believed the younger was in good hands. But now . . . now everything had changed. Now Jungkook wasn't safe at all.

Taehyung had difficulty swallowing over the painful lump in his throat. "Jungkook has nothing to do with whatever is going on here. Let him go."

"I know he doesn't. And I tried to keep him out of this, but it's too late. It's not safe to send him off on his own, so my only option is to keep him with me," Namjoon explained, speaking slowly like he was trying to convince himself as well. "I just want him to be okay, and it seems like you do, too. Right?"

Of course, Taehyung did. Fuck, that's the only thing he wanted. But if he admitted that his heart belonged to Jungkook, would that give this man - this traitor - ammo to hurt them both further? "I -"

"Bogum told me he saw the two of you together. Jin said he got the sense that you cared for him. And when I saw Jungkook a few minutes ago, I could see that he cared for you. I trust that you want his best interest. And I know you don't trust me, but I hope you can trust the love I have for my brother."

Taehyung's gut told him that Namjoon really did love Jungkook, that he wasn't lying about that bond. He had heard too many stories from the younger detailing the endless amounts of love and care the bodyguard provided all his life. He didn't doubt that Namjoon would continue to do everything possible to keep his brother from danger.

And Taehyung also wasn't stupid. He knew - either through force or his own free will - that he would leave here with Namjoon. He accepted that he would not get answers, that he would remain in the dark. But maybe if he appeased the bodyguard for now, maybe if he cooperated, he could ensure Jungkook was alright.

Maybe if he went with Namjoon, he could figure out what was really at play here.

After a considerable pause, Namjoon cleared his throat. He seemed to know what decision Taehyung had arrived at. "Give me the gun, Tae."

Taehyung's body screamed at him as he engaged the safety. His legs tremored as he knelt down, placing the Glock on the floor. His hand twitched as he pushed it over to the bodyguard, his aim slightly off and his force too strong. And his stomach sank as he watched Namjoon lift the gun, inspecting it for a moment before tucking it into his waistband.

"Hands on your head, Tae."

Before following that specific order, Taehyung pointed at the packed backpacks by the door. "Kook and I have some clothes in those bags. Can I take a few things? I don't know where we're going and -"

Namjoon pursed his lips, considering for a second before pointing to the tunnel with the Sig. "I'll have someone come back and get the bags. Now, let's go."

Taehyung eyed the narrow space between the bodyguard and the tunnel. If he had nothing to lose, he would try to make a run for it. He would try to knock out Namjoon and buy himself some time. He'd try anything to get away.

But Taehyung couldn't afford to attempt any of those things.

He had everything to lose.

So he obediently walked past Namjoon and into the tunnel, not even pausing to glance back at his mother's sitting room. He couldn't afford to think of her at this moment; he couldn't think of how they'd all been betrayed. If he did, he would probably do something even more stupid and put his life - Jungkook's life - into more danger.

A sharp poke in between his shoulder blades guided him forward. It was most likely the muzzle of the Sig, a grave reminder of what could happen if Taehyung disobeyed. "If you listen to me, Tae, I'll allow you to stay conscious. I don't want to hurt you if I don't have to."

"How considerate," Taehyung scoffed, though it turned into a small gasp of pain as the gun pressed harder into his skin.

They made their way out of the tunnel without saying anything else, falling into a tense silence that exaggerated the sound of Taehyung's heartbeats. The closer they got to the exit, the more anxious he felt. He couldn't anticipate the scene he'd find upon emerging into the orchard; he couldn't guess what kind of state he'd find Jungkook in.

But, much to Taehyung's surprise, he didn't see anything notable when he was ungraciously pushed through the hatch door. He stumbled onto his hands and knees, though noticed their surroundings were blocked by a large, black SUV. The vehicle had tinted windows so it was impossible to peer inside, though there was a very visible Jin waiting off to the side.

The last time Taehyung had seen Jin - hours ago perhaps - he thought the man's features were taught with grief. But now, seeing how his eyebrows scrunched together and how his lips pulled into a frown, he realized this expression was not tied to suffering. It was connected to guilt. Fuck, he wouldn't even meet Taehyung's eyes.

Namjoon tilted his head to the side, signaling Jin to open the door. "Get in, Tae. I'll start with just handcuffs and a blindfold, but if you misbehave, I won't hesitate to use chloroform."

Jin opened the back door, flinging it open without care before walking towards the passenger seat. He remained quiet, though for some reason, Taehyung didn't think that was necessarily his choice.

"Taehyung. Inside."

"But where's -?" Taehyung answered his own question as he looked into the backseat. "Kook?"

Taehyung rushed into the car, an uncoordinated mess of tangled limbs as he found an unconscious Jungkook slumped against the window. A dark piece of fabric was draped over most of his face, covering everything besides his mouth. One of his wrists was handcuffed to the door, but other than a seatbelt across his chest and waist, he was left unrestrained. And while there was a subtle rise and fall to his chest, the younger was motionless.

"What did you do to him?" Taehyung snarled, his fingers settling over the pulse in Jungkook's neck. It was steady - thank goodness - but it was also stronger than he expected. Faster. Almost like Jungkook was on edge.

"He's just knocked out," Namjoon said from behind him, sounding preoccupied as he clicked something onto the open car door. "He'll be fine."

Taehyung looked over his shoulder to see that the bodyguard had secured another pair of handcuffs around the door. That made sense; if Namjoon was worried about him causing trouble while driving, it was a safer bet to cuff him to an object that could not be moved.

"Taehyung," Namjoon warned, indicating that he should sit down and allow himself to be handcuffed.

Taehyung sunk into his seat, wearily leaning against the comfortable and plush backrest. He spared one last glance at Jungkook before his vision was blacked out, a thick piece of fabric falling over his face. His wrist was unceremoniously yanked to the side, and he couldn't help but yelp as the bite of a handcuff snapped over his skin. And finally, a seatbelt was settled over his body, locking into place before the door closed.

"Jin, cuff them together. I'll be right there," Namjoon ordered, his voice wavering towards the end as he presumably walked away from the vehicle.

Jin didn't verbally respond, but there was some shuffling from the front seat before another clinking sound pricked Taehyung's ears. Another set of handcuffs. Sure enough, the cold metal wrapped around his wrist, though it was looser than the first set.

"I'm sorry," Jin let out on a breath, the words so low they were almost inaudible. Another snap punctuated his words, signifying that the cuffs were also locked around Jungkook's wrist. "I'm so sorry."

Before Taehyung could speak - before Jin could freely offer anything more - the driver's side door opened and Namjoon hopped in. "Alright, we're good to go."

Taehyung's heart throbbed as the car began moving, the crunch of rocks and gravel narrating their trip out of the orchard. Neither Jin nor Namjoon spoke, though after a minute, one of them turned on the radio. A gentle melody filled the SUV, deceivingly optimistic considering the circumstances. The singer's warm and hopeful tone did nothing to soothe Taehyung's frayed nerves . . . No, it just made him feel hopeless.

This was the end for Taehyung, and if he didn't play his cards right, this could be the end for Jungkook as well.

He couldn't mess up.

He couldn't fail.

Fuck.

Though, just before Taehyung's hope threatened to evaporate entirely, fingers nudged against his hand. They carefully brushed over his skin in a gentle and tender manner, sharing warmth and communicating love. And when those fingers finally interweaved with his own, they squeezed tightly, indicating that Jungkook was okay, he was fine, he was right here with him.

Taehyung was not alone.

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》 V A L E N W R I T I N G 《

There's more to come here; things aren't black and white. I think that's been one of my favorite - and most challenging - parts of this story! Taking the typical mold of an action story and breaking it piece by piece.

Soo . . . do we have any thoughts or theories? Where do you think this is headed?

Also thanks everyone for your patience with me these last few weeks! My schedule has been crazy with work, often zapping me of mental energy to write. It's really meant a lot to me that you guys understand and have been here to support me through it. I love you all so much!