Hence his victories bring him neither reputation for wisdom nor credit for courage.
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The Art of War
Sun Tzu

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Five minutes had passed since driving off from the orchard, and for the entire time, Jungkook could only think of one thing: His hero betrayed him.

His brother, his best friend, and his role model of more than two decades took every ounce of trust bestowed upon him and twisted it into something so unrecognizable, so ugly, that Jungkook started to question his own judgment. He wondered if he missed the signs growing up, if he inadvertently ignored the true nature of the person he looked up to most. He wondered if he foolishly put Namjoon on a pedestal, if he let his own love blind him against the truth.

Jungkook wondered if he unwittingly created a faux persona for his brother, if the honorable image he had of that man was nothing more than a delusion of his mind.

Fuck, that was what he did, wasn't it? He let himself believe in an illusion of his own making all because he was so desperate for a loving parental figure. He idolized the only person who ever supported or nurtured him, choosing to overlook perceived flaws and make excuses for him instead. But this time, there were no excuses. No amount of denial or ignorance could take back what had been done.

The hero Jungkook once knew was gone, shattered by the reality of who his brother actually was:

An incorrigible liar.

A vindictive criminal.

A manipulative traitor.

As much as he wanted to give Namjoon the benefit of the doubt, Jungkook understood that wasn't possible. It would've been one thing if his brother had rematerialized from the dead, citing valid reasons for laying low in order to protect his loved ones and former charge. But it was another thing entirely for his brother to magically reappear in the middle of a shootout, use violence to knock Jungkook unconscious, handcuff him to a car, and threaten the love of his life. No, that couldn't be brushed off with a charming smile and half-assed attempt at an explanation.

It couldn't be brushed off at all.

So, left with nothing but the remnants of his broken trust, Jungkook allowed his perception of Namjoon to shift. He pushed back the fond memories of their childhood together so he could accept the fact that he no longer knew his brother. Because of the actions displayed today, he had to admit that Namjoon was a stranger to him.

And that fucking hurt.

There was a gaping hole in the center of his chest, the place where he once housed his unconditional love, unshakable respect, and unwavering faith in his brother. It left him feeling numb and empty, like an essential part of his livelihood was forever removed and gone. And with each inhale and exhale, that loss grew bigger and more suffocating, reminding Jungkook that something irreplaceable was missing.

And while every self-preserving thought screamed at Jungkook to consider the alternatives, he just couldn't. He wouldn't subject himself to silly rationalizations or naive what-if scenarios to fill the void that Namjoon left. He wouldn't pretend there was a pretty story that would answer all of his questions and restore his brother to that lofty position of his hero. It would tear him apart to hold out hope, so instead, he let the desolation settle into his chest.

For one . . . two . . . three . . . breaths, that was all Jungkook knew. The betrayal. The devastation. The despondency. Those responses to the morning's events caused his shoulders to cave in, his heart to slow to a sluggish rate, his mind to fill with dooming thoughts. For three breaths, he allowed his sorrow to rule each one of his logical senses.

But then - like a tidal wave rising higher and higher, ready to crash down and destroy everything in its path - Jungkook knew the anger. His pulse pounded in his ears as the blood raced through his veins, igniting an uncontrollable fire that wanted to consume him entirely. The bone-crushing anguish he experienced just moments before morphed into an unadulterated rage, a resentment that was the result of Namjoon's deception. Because his brother - his brother - was involved in the attacks against Korean National Oil.

His brother was involved in a criminal case that led to the death of an innocent life.

And now . . .

Now . . .

Now Namjoon wanted to hurt Taehyung.

Taehyung.

When Jungkook had regained consciousness after being knocked out, he found himself alone in a car but cuffed to the door. His thoughts had been hazy and disoriented; he couldn't recall how he ended up in this position. But after taking measured inhales and exhales for a moment or two, he had remembered exactly what had transpired.

He'd remembered his confusion over seeing his brother, the utter relief when he realized help had finally arrived. He remembered his panic, the fear that their enemies would find his angel before Namjoon could intervene. He remembered the tiny nod, the lift of his brother's arm.

He remembered nothing after that.

But as soon as those memories flooded Jungkook's mind, all thoughts had turned to Taehyung. He feared that the shooters made their way into the bunker and were hurting his love; he feared that the absolute worst had already happened. He feared that Taehyung was alone and terrified, waiting for Yoongi to arrive and rescue them both. But because Jungkook failed to call the Chief and share their location, that help would never come.

And even though he knew his efforts would prove futile, he had tried ripping the metal handcuffs off of the door, pulling and yanking over and over and over. By the time he gave up on that endeavor - left with nothing but a reddened wrist and a growing anxiety - his heart had been ready to rip out of his chest. He couldn't think, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't do anything productive at all.

All he could do was sit there like a fool, waiting for whatever came next.

Though not even a minute after that, voices had punctuated the oddly tranquil air just outside of the car. It was his brother's voice, throwing around words like handcuffs and blindfold and chloroform with ease and authority. Namjoon had sounded like he had power . . . like he was the one in control of this situation.

A nagging sensation had pricked at the nape of Jungkook's neck, though he pushed it aside as the door to the car flung open. He had quickly slumped against the window, hoping to eavesdrop by appearing unconscious. What he hadn't expected, however, was for Taehyung to call out for him, to feel the presence of his angel hovering over his body to check if he was okay. He hadn't expected to hear Namjoon threatening his love or ordering Jin to handcuff them together. He hadn't expected Jin to issue an emotional apology.

It was then that the nagging sensation had turned into the full-blown realization that Namjoon and Jin were somehow involved, that they weren't here to save him and Taehyung. No . . . they were helping their enemies.

They were their enemies.

His brother and brother-in-law were working against Korean National Oil and Taehyung. And because of where Jungkook's loyalty and love most confidently resided, that meant they were working against him, too.

After that awareness fully washed over Jungkook, he had found himself unable to do anything more than hold onto Taehyung's hand. Even that small, innocent act of comfort and affection posed a risk, but keeping still had proven to be a challenge. He needed to assure himself that his angel was truly here with him, safe for the moment by his side. So he had intertwined his fingers with Taehyung's, squeezing tightly to send one - hopefully clear - message:

I love you and I'm here with you.

Truthfully, that embrace was the only thing keeping Jungkook grounded right now. It was his literal grip on reality. Without the soothing swipe of Taehyung's thumb over his knuckles, he might just give into his loosely bound anger and explode. Hell, he was this close to exploding anyway; the buzzing of his body, the chattering of his teeth, and the uncontrollable sweating of his palms were all signs of his valiant efforts to keep the rage compressed.

And while he wanted to do nothing more than to give in to the fury, he understood that erupting wouldn't do him or Taehyung any good. Being handcuffed to a moving vehicle didn't exactly provide many productive courses of action, so he needed to wait until he could actually do something. He just hoped that whenever that opportunity arose, he wouldn't fail. Because without a doubt, failure meant only one thing in this scenario:

Death.

It wasn't the prospect of his death that scared him, however. No, his desire to protect and shield and shelter himself from danger could not compete with his burning need to do all of those things for Taehyung.

His bodyguard-turned-boyfriend.

His other half.

His angel.

The mere thought of what potentially could happen to Taehyung was enough to make Jungkook's breath hitch, a small sound muted by the soft, melodic music playing in the car. He tried not to envision the worst - he willed happy, positive images into his head - but his resolve diminished and his overactive mind won out. All he could see was red, all he could hear was screaming, all he could feel was numbness.

He was well on his way to having a panic attack.

But before that could happen, a firm squeeze of his hand drew his focus back to the present. Taehyung.

"I got you," his boyfriend murmured, in tune with the war waging inside of Jungkook. "Deep breaths."

Jungkook sucked in as much air as he could muster, willing himself to focus on the warmth radiating from Taehyung's hand. It wasn't lost on him that this was the first time they'd spoken since parting at the bunker. Fuck, he wanted - needed - to say so much to his angel. But he couldn't express any of the emotions running rampant in his system, couldn't articulate that endless swirl of anger and worry and love. He didn't trust the two people in the front of the car, driving them to what he could only guess was their downfalls.

So instead of speaking, he clutched onto Taehyung with more force, the clammy merging of their hands helping to distract him from their current predicament. If he relaxed a bit, maybe closed his eyes, he could calm the uncontrollable racing of his heart. If he could just rest for a few moments, maybe he could think of something that would help.

That plan went to shit when not three seconds later, the shrill ringing of a phone pierced the somber ambiance of the car. It was a familiar ringtone, one Jungkook heard countless times over the last few days.

His spine went rigid, every muscle coiling with apprehension. He reflexively reached for his pockets, hoping to secure the buzzing device before it was taken away, but remembered a millisecond too late that he was restrained. The harsh metal of the cuffs dug into his wrists, irritating the sensitive flesh and reminding him yet again of how little power he held.

His efforts wouldn't have mattered anyway; the ringing came from the front seat, indicating that Namjoon and Jin had already found and confiscated the phone.

There was no way for Jungkook to warn Yoongi.

"Fuck," Taehyung choked out, the pitch of his voice rising with alarm.

Fuck, indeed. Jungkook didn't know how much time had passed since they last spoke with the Chief - An hour? Fifteen minutes? - but the premise of this call was unmistakable. Yoongi was calling to get directions to the bunker; he was in Daegu, ready to rescue him and Taehyung.

What would Yoongi think when he couldn't get in contact with them?

"Who is that?" Namjoon asked as he shut off the radio, his tone strained. "Who's calling you?"

There was no straightforward way to answer. If he or Taehyung said too much, they risked putting Yoongi in a tricky situation. If they said too little, Namjoon could make a rash decision that could hurt them all.

"Someone who was going to get us out of the bunker," Taehyung replied, his response not too incriminating but detailed enough. "We didn't exactly want to hang around after Jungkook was kidnapped."

Jungkook was tempted to add on, to mention Jin's assistance with their escape, but something told him to keep his mouth shut. It didn't seem logical for Jin to play them, to temporarily show compassion as part of a grand scheme to earn their trust. If his brother-in-law really had it out for both him and Taehyung, it would've been far easier to keep them in that safe house than to let them flee through the woods of Daegu.

Jin had previously alluded to wanting to keep them safe . . . maybe that really was true.

"What does the caller ID say?" Namjoon questioned.

"Says it's a restricted number," Jin replied blandly, his words lacking interest or inflection. "Want me to answer?"

After a pause, Namjoon hummed his affirmation. "Yeah, I want to know who it is. But no one is going to speak anything unless I say so, got it? Taehyung, Jungkook . . . Don't give me a reason to use the chloroform."

Well, if Jungkook had any remaining doubts about his brother, that last sentence banished them all.

The fourth and final ring cut out too soon, signaling that Jin flipped open the phone. There was one rigid moment of silence before the Chief's exhausted voice came through the receiver.

"Taehyung? Jungkook?"

No one in the car answered.

"Are either of you there? I need directions," the Chief reminded them with an impatient huff.

Words of warning bubbled up on Jungkook's tongue, though he didn't release them just yet. He needed to wait. To listen. He also wanted to determine whether or not Namjoon recognized the voice of his former boss.

A disgruntled sigh pushed through the phone. "Taehyung."

Jungkook heard the aggravation, but he also heard something else - a faint trace of uneasiness.

"Taehyung?" Yoongi repeated a bit more softly. "Jungkook? Is everything okay?"

This wasn't the first instance Jungkook had heard the Chief concerned, though there was something wholly different this time. This time, neither Jungkook nor Taehyung could reassure Yoongi that they were alright. They couldn't explain that they got themselves into trouble but weren't any worse for wear. They couldn't simply receive a lecture and wait for advice on what to do next. No, this time, they were both in immediate danger. And if Jungkook's intuition was correct, he believed Yoongi understood that as well.

"Can you tell me where you are?" The Chief had to know they either weren't there or they couldn't answer, but he kept trying anyway. He wasn't the type to give up.

And because of that - because Jungkook couldn't bear to imagine what must be going through Yoongi's head - he did something very true to his character. He did something completely, thoroughly, and utterly stupid.

"They have us handcuffed in a car and -"

The distinct snap of a phone closing echoed through the vehicle, the only sound for one breath, two breaths, three. And then there was the slamming of a fist against the steering wheel, a noise that was half-snarl and half-groan.

"Fucking shit, Jungkook!" His brother barked out, a barely controlled fury pulsating off of his words in waves. "If you thought I was fucking joking about the chloroform, I'm sorry to tell you -"

"That sounded like the Chief," Jin jumped in before his husband could finish that sentence, skillfully redirecting the conversation. "Was it?"

The only answer Namjoon gave was a terse grunt, though it was easy enough to interpret the underlying assent. And - if the suddenly abrupt movements of the car were any obvious distinctions - he wasn't too pleased with that fact.

It was quiet for another beat before Jin spoke again. "You need to calm down, Joon. You're going too fast."

"I'm fine," Namjoon defended, though the unmistakable acceleration of the car contradicted his point.

"Yeah, you look fine," Jin retorted, his voice rising in volume and taking on an exasperated edge. "You're going to kill us all if you keep driving like this. Pull over now."

"I can't and you know it," Namjoon argued right back. "We have two other cars behind us and -"

The burner phone started ringing again.

Jungkook forcefully tugged on his wrist, ignoring the bite of metal as he struggled to free himself from the door. The effort was just as pointless as it'd been earlier, but it felt productive to do something even if it was in vain. So he prepared to repeat his action, to attempt a second yank, but paused when he felt Taehyung's fingers intertwine with his own. The simple touch emphasized the intensity of his boyfriend's love, quickly helping Jungkook to regain his composure.

Once the phone rang for the second time, Namjoon let out a short huff. "What do you think I should do, Jin?"

"Why ask if you already know my answer?" Jin countered without hesitation. "Here. Take the phone and make up your own mind. We both know my opinion won't sway you anyway."

Witnessing his brother and brother-in-law disagree like this was new to Jungkook. Granted, it had been months since he last saw them together - it had been one of those extremely rare times his brother had come home - all had appeared well back then. They had always been that disgustingly happy couple who had each other's backs. Even when they had little quarrels, they did their best to be considerate of the other and work through their issues as a team. They were never the type to spit out pointed digs in the heat of the moment.

"Jin -"

"Just do whatever you want, Joon."

The phone quieted after the third ring as Namjoon finally made his decision.

Yoongi's voice, harsh and unyielding, immediately poured through the receiver. It was reminiscent of when the Chief grilled Jungkook, back when he admitted he wasn't the son of Korean National Oil's CEO. "My name is Min Yoongi, Chief of Security at Korean National Oil. To whom am I speaking with?"

Namjoon remained silent.

"I'll be happy to discuss your demands," Yoongi continued a few seconds later, not deterred, "after I speak with both Taehyung and Jungkook to confirm their wellbeing. Please put them on the phone."

The way the Chief conducted himself was admirable. He didn't make any threats, start an interrogation, or ask any of the silly questions Jungkook remembered hearing in movies. Rather than issue a dramatic you won't get away with this sort of line, Yoongi kept calm and levelheaded.

The unbuckling of a seatbelt sounded from the front, and before Jungkook had time to contemplate what was going on, the phone roughly pressed against the side of his head. He had to twist his neck a bit to get the device closer to his ear, causing him to pull a muscle and hiss in a shocked pain.

"Ow, fuck," Jungkook breathed, wishing he could soothe the newly formed knot. "Yoongi? It's Jungkook."

"Are you hurt?" The Chief probed, his familiar voice doing little to soothe Jungkook's anxiety.

Was he hurt? Yes. After being hit in the head twice over the last few hours, he wouldn't be surprised if he had a concussion at this rate. But seeing as his heart still pounded in his chest, air still filled his lungs, and blood wasn't pouring out of his body, he figured he was as good as he could be considering the circumstances.

"Jungkook?"

"I'm alright," he rushed to say. "A little roughened up and handcuffed to a -"

The phone ripped away from his ear, gone as quickly as it previously came. He supposed Jin - if that was who held the phone - was nervous he'd reveal too many damning details.

"Yoongi," Taehyung said a moment later, the phone now apparently pressed to his ear. "I'm not hurt either."

"Am I on speaker?"

Taehyung hummed in disappointment. "Yes."

"Alright. The people you're with can take back the phone now," Yoongi said, seemingly careful not to refer to them as captors or criminals or any other accurate term that could come off as offensive.

A whoosh of air ghosted over Jungkook's arm, Jin most likely returning to his seat. He wasn't surprised when neither Namjoon nor Jin started talking, though it struck him as counterproductive. How could they get what they wanted if they didn't voice their demands? What even were their demands?

Yoongi quickly understood that no one on their end intended to chat, so he cleared his throat and began. "It's in everyone's best interest if we work together. I want to guarantee the safe return of Taehyung and Jungkook, and I'm willing to hear you out in order to make that happen. But to help you, I need to know what it is you're after."

If Jungkook had to guess, he'd speculate that Jin was looking expectantly at Namjoon, daring him to speak. To reveal that he was, in fact, alive and an active participant in this kidnapping. But his brother would keep his eyes on the road, grinding his teeth together as he tried to come up with a plan of attack.

When there was still no answer, the Chief let out an irritable puff of air. "Look, I'm sure you want this to be over just as much as I do. We're all exhausted. So tell me what you need so we can come to an agreement. Korean National Oil and I will do anything to ensure there are no other deaths."

Jungkook was sweating under the fabric that covered his face. He desperately needed to wipe his brow, to blot away the droplets that tickled his flushed skin. As a test, he lifted his and Taehyung's joined hands, leaning to the side to see if he could reach. It was a bit of a stretch, though he successfully managed to swipe the back of his palm against his forehead.

There was an unintended consequence of that action, however; it was one he couldn't have predicted and one he wished he thought of sooner: Taehyung was able to hook his long fingers underneath the fabric, successfully pulling it off of Jungkook's head.

It was suddenly too bright for Jungkook's eyes, causing him to repeatedly blink as he took in the nondescript scenery passing them outside. Nothing looked familiar and there were no landmarks that could help the Chief find them. As of right now, he and Taehyung were on their own.

He leaned over towards his boyfriend, following his lead and tugging the cloth from his head as well. Maybe that wasn't the smartest move - okay, it definitely wasn't - but he couldn't deny the instant rush of hope that maybe, just maybe, they could figure this out together. He also couldn't deny the surge of reassurance that warmed his core upon seeing his angel's face for the first time in what felt like hours.

Taehyung's hair was messy and rumpled, falling over his forehead and sweeping just under his sculpted brows. His eyes were sharp and alert, though the bags beneath them alluded to a weary fatigue. But despite the slight air of disarray, no signs of physical trauma decorated his skin. And for that, Jungkook was grateful; he'd rather bear the cuts, bruises, and blows to the head than to see his love get hurt.

After a second of appraising each other, their gazes locked and it was like they could communicate through telepathy. Jungkook knew every emotion flitting through Taehyung's eyes; he could feel the weight of his worries, the heat of his wrath, and the depth of his love. He understood the trepidation and the shared sense of uselessness. He saw the flickering undercurrent of hope.

The corners of Taehyung's mouth stretched upwards in a small, comforting smile before he cleared his throat. "I get why you don't want to talk to the Chief, so use me. Direct me on what to say, and I'll say it."

Jungkook watched as Namjoon's eyes flitted to the rearview mirror, slanted with curiosity then turning wide with shock. His agitation was instantly palpable, though he couldn't admonish either Taehyung or Jungkook at the moment, not unless he wanted to reveal his voice to his former boss.

That prompted a new thought within Jungkook - if he were to blurt out Namjoon's and Jin's names, what would be the cost? On the one hand, yes, that information could greatly help Yoongi. The Chief could have a more focused investigation and tailor his approach accordingly. But if Jungkook exposed the couple, could that also put Taehyung, Yoongi, and even all Korean National Oil in more danger? Could his brother and brother-in-law retaliate against them all as a result?

Fuck.

If Jungkook learned anything this morning, it was that he no longer could count on the people Namjoon and Jin used to be. He couldn't anticipate their actions. That alone made Jungkook bite his tongue; he already went against his brother's orders by talking, and one more show of insubordination could lead to terrible consequences.

So he kept quiet.

For now.

"Hello?" Yoongi urged when no one said anything further.

With a sigh, Namjoon took one hand off of the steering wheel. His actions were blunt; he lifted his hand in the air and rubbed his fingers together purposely.

"They want money," Taehyung interpreted, scrunching his eyebrows as Namjoon emphasized the gesture. "A lot of money."

The Chief scoffed like that was a predictable answer. "How much?"

Namjoon lifted both hands in the air and showed all ten fingers.

"Ten . . .? Ten what?" Taehyung asked, furrowing his brows. "Million? Billion?"

When Namjoon held up two fingers this time - indicating the second option - Jungkook spluttered. "You want ten billion won?"

His brother's eyes flashed to his in the rearview mirror - an unspoken but explicit warning.

An emotionless laugh came through the receiver. "Maxing out that kidnapping policy, I see. You know, only a handful of people know about the existence of that policy, let alone its value. I've vetted all of them but one."

It was easy enough to guess the identity of that final person.

"If you didn't want to give yourself away," Yoongi drawled, "I would've chosen a lower ransom value, Kim Seokjin."

Jungkook's hand tightened around Taehyung's in anticipation, though he wasn't sure if it was out of excitement or fear. All he knew was that the outcome of this conversation would have a drastic impact on their future.

Jin turned towards Namjoon, his fingers noticeably trembling around the phone. All color had drained from his face, leaving no signs of warmth or spirit. And judging by the slight shake of his head, he had no idea how to get himself out of this mess. He was stuck.

So Namjoon reached for the phone and said, "Leave my husband out of this, Chief. He has nothing to do with what's going on here."

At the end of the day, it seemed like Namjoon had the same weakness as everyone else.

Love.

"Kim Namjoon?" Yoongi let out in a rare display of disbelief. He didn't state the obvious - that he thought Namjoon was dead - but instead coughed in an attempt to mask how much he was caught off guard. "Holy fuck."

"Ten billion won, Chief," Namjoon replied, reaffirming the ransom amount, "and I want that in cash."

"I can't -"

"I've seen the policy. You can," the former bodyguard interrupted, his words curt and biting. "And I want that prepared immediately so my counterparts can collect it."

"You can collect the money when you return Jungkook and Taehyung to me. Alive," Yoongi quipped right back, unrelenting.

Namjoon inhaled deeply, his hand gripping the phone so tightly that his knuckles turned white. "We can discuss the logistics tonight."

There was a slight pause before the Chief said, "Tonight? No, that's not going to work. You're going to tell me exactly where I can meet you and we're going to decide on a time now. You're not going to endanger those innocent kids for any longer than necessary."

"You're not the one with the power, Chief. You don't get to call the shots."

"Oh, and you do?"

Jungkook was very familiar with his brother's tells. When Namjoon was angry, he'd often sport a red face, flaring nostrils, and a pulsing vein in his neck. Anytime they fought growing up, he knew to back down as soon as he saw any of those physical reactions. Because arguing with Namjoon wasn't fun, it was an intense and emotionally draining experience.

But - contrary to what Jungkook expected - his brother displayed none of those responses. Sure, the guy was tense and on edge, but he wasn't even close to his boiling point.

It was odd.

"Just get me the money I asked for," Namjoon said, his tone evening out. "Once I've reached my destination, I'll call you back."

"You need to give me a general idea of where you're headed. That way, I can be ready to meet you," Yoongi insisted.

Jungkook was almost positive that his brother would evade answering, but for the umpteenth time this morning alone, he was wrong.

"We can meet near Korean National Oil," Namjoon conceded a couple of seconds later. "We can meet you in Seoul."

"Fine. If I don't hear from you by eight tonight, I'll -"

They never got to hear what Yoongi would do; Namjoon ended the call.

"What the fuck, Joon?" Jin turned on him immediately, back rigid as he assessed his husband. "We had an agreement. We agreed that no one would know you were involved."

"We also agreed that no one would know you were involved. I wasn't just going to let the fucking Chief of Korean National Oil assume you were behind everything. I wasn't going to do that, Jinnie."

"If you meet up with him, you know exactly what will happen. They'll set a trap and take you in."

"Stop thinking so far ahead. We don't know how this is going to play out yet."

Jin laughed, the empty and low sound filling the car with tension. "Stop thinking ahead? How can you say that to me? You're my husband. I love you. I am always thinking about our future together, but this . . . this . . ."

Namjoon spared his husband a quick glance. "What?"

"This isn't the life I signed up for, Joon."

A small pang throbbed in Jungkook's chest at that quiet statement. Sure, he couldn't dismiss or excuse Jin's behavior just because the elder seemed to be a victim here as well. But he had to acknowledge that his brother-in-law showed remorse, that he appeared to hate the situation he found himself in. It didn't change anything, but it had to count for something.

Didn't it?

"I know," Namjoon whispered gently. "I'm sorry."

Taehyung's thumb swept over the back of Jungkook's hand, the tender touch drawing his attention. He peered over at his angel, so fucking grateful that he could meet his gaze and find solace in his presence. And while he found concern and unease in his boyfriend's eyes, at least they were facing each new unknown together.

They were not alone.

"Jin," Namjoon said after a long period of silence, "cover their faces."

Jungkook's muscles immediately locked, preparing to resist, but his brother-in-law was quicker.

"There's no point. They know we're going to Seoul," Jin replied, his tone thick with determination. "Besides, the moment we arrive at our destination, they're going to recognize where they are. Blindfolding them will achieve nothing."

Remarkably, Namjoon didn't fight the point. He just trained his eyes on the road, refusing to look at his husband or his captives in the backseat. With his full focus on the task at hand, he could almost pass as a loyal bodyguard.

Almost, but not quite.

A hushed stillness fell over the car after that, and although he tried to remain alert and observant, Jungkook found himself fighting a losing battle. His eyes constantly drooped closed, and only the occasional slamming of his head against the window could startle them open again. Once that happened three or four times, Taehyung softly told him to sleep.

So he did.

Jungkook got as comfortable as possible, leaning deeper into the headrest and allowing his eyes to remain shut. Somewhere in between thinking of his brother's betrayal and caressing his boyfriend's hand, unconsciousness claimed his mind and pulled him down . . . down . . . down. All he knew was a pleasant darkness, a calming warmth. He had no troubles whatsoever; he was liberated.

Free.

But when he awoke hours later to someone shaking his shoulders, he remembered that he wasn't free at all. No, he was still handcuffed, one wrist bound to an unmoving door and the other to a sleeping Taehyung.

"Hey," Jin said quietly, leaning over into the backseat, "wake up, Kook. We're getting out soon."

Jungkook rapidly blinked his eyes, wishing more than anything he could rub at them. He watched as his brother-in-law gently prodded Taehyung, a full minute passing before he realized the car was parked and the driver's seat was empty. When he finally looked out the window and scanned their surroundings, he swallowed a curse.

"This house . . ."

"My family's Seoul residence," Taehyung supplied, now awake and craning his neck to peer outside.

Chills erupted over Jungkook's skin as he took in the plain house, his mouth parting in shock. It was surreal to be here again, to come back to the place that forever altered the course of his life. So much had changed over the last couple of weeks, yet fundamentally, some things were still the same. He still held onto sadness and fear. He still mourned the loss of his brother.

"Namjoon is just outside of the car," Jin explained under his breath, reaching into his pocket for something. "He's discussing things with Bogum."

"I might be misreading this entire situation, but I don't believe you wanted to be a part of this," Taehyung said as he returned his attention to Jin. "And if that's true . . . Is there any way you can get Jungkook out of here? I don't want to put you in danger by asking you to help both of us, but please. Help Jungkook."

"I'm not leaving you, Tae," Jungkook whispered fiercely. "Each time I leave you, something goes wrong. But if we stick together, everything will be okay. Everything has to be okay."

Jin pulled a small pin out of his pocket - the key to the handcuffs. "Give me your wrists."

Jungkook's heart swelled in realization. "You're letting us go?"

Jin bit his lip before concentrating on the task. "If it were up to me . . . It doesn't matter. There are too many people around, and someone would just get hurt. I'm sorry."

The handcuffs fell from their joined wrists, and Jungkook let out a groan of relief. He was still attached to the car door, but at least he regained some range of motion.

"Find a way," Taehyung implored, his freed hand automatically moving back to clasp Jungkook's. "Jin . . . I have nothing to offer you but . . . Please. Please, Jin. I love him and -"

Before Taehyung had a chance to finish his impassioned plea, both doors to the backseat of the car flung open. Jungkook's and Taehyung's joined hands were forced apart as they were brutally pulled backward, forced to follow the movement less their arms rip out of their sockets.

Namjoon hovered just above Jungkook, a key to the handcuffs poised between his fingers. He immediately got to work, freeing Jungkook from the car door and roughly hauling him into his arms. "Jin, take Taehyung inside. You know which room. I'll secure Kook."

"Wait, no!" Jungkook struggled, thrashing his limbs as he attempted to run back to the car. "Let me stay with him. Please, Joonie!"

He desperately searched for someone who might help, imploring the four or five individuals outside to come to his defense. But no one moved; no, those unrecognizable faces avoided eye contact altogether. And, to make matters worse, they were in a concealed part of the driveway. The neighbors and the idle passerby wouldn't witness the encounter; they wouldn't be able to help.

Namjoon's grip tightened around his waist, his fingers digging into his sides. "Come on, Kook. Don't be difficult."

A ragged sob pushed through Jungkook's lips as the distance between himself and Taehyung grew. He attempted to dig his heels into the ground, to trip up his brother, but to no avail. "Tae. Angel, I can't -"

"Kook, it's okay, you'll be okay," Taehyung's voice called out from the car, unsteady and afraid. "I love you so much, sweetheart. I'll see you soon."

I'll see you soon. Wasn't that just a softer way of saying goodbye?

"Angel! Fuck, Namjoon, stop, please! Tae," Jungkook said with as much force as possible, willing a steadfast grit into each one of his syllables. Though as he continued exerting energy - putting a great deal of power behind his actions in an attempt to throw his brother off of him - he quickly began to deflate. All strength he once possessed evaporated, replaced by the mind-numbing, bone-chilling fear that he failed Taehyung again.

Taehyung. His Taehyung.

"Will you calm the fuck down?" His brother ordered, panting as he dragged Jungkook inside. "I have this raging headache, and your screaming isn't exactly helping it right now."

"I hate you," Jungkook spat, tears stinging his eyes and blurring his vision. Never in his life did he envision directing such venom at his brother, but he also never imagined his brother would be capable of all this.

"I know."

Yet Jungkook's hatred made no difference for Namjoon; it didn't deter him whatsoever. If anything, the former bodyguard just handled him more harshly.

"No, you don't know. You don't understand any part of what I'm feeling. You don't get what it feels like to be betrayed by your hero," Jungkook said as he was led up a flight of stairs. "Taehyung trusted you. I trusted you."

"A famous singer once said that trust gets you killed," Namjoon responded nonchalantly, his casual tone contrasting with his strained effort to lug Jungkook along. "He also said love gets you hurt and being real gets you hated. I think he was right on all accounts."

"Love heals," Jungkook corrected adamantly, a sliver of strength returning to him as he thought of his angel. "Taehyung's love healed me of so much pain and sadness, just as mine did for him."

His brother let out a condescending laugh, the sound echoing off of the silent halls. "You can't seriously think that you two love each other. You met . . . What was it, a couple of weeks ago? You don't know enough about Taehyung to love him. There hasn't been enough time. It's just lust, Kook."

Heat flushed through Jungkook's body and his heart pounded in his chest. "Love is not about how much time has passed. What Tae and I have is real. We put each other first. We value each other. We work hard - every single moment of the day - to show our loyalty and dedication. And we know it's not easy. Fuck, it hasn't been easy at all. But we're committed to our love despite the hardships . . . we're committed to each other. And if you don't understand that, I don't think you know anything about what it means to love."

They reached a familiar doorway, one that opened to Namjoon's old bedroom. Half-packed boxes still littered the floor, a collection of clothing, books, and pictures visible in each. When Jungkook had last been here - when he had witnessed his brother-in-law gathering all of these belongings - he'd been a different person. Lost, alone, and terrified. He'd needed someone to save him from himself, from the dark hole threatening to overtake his soul.

It was then that he found his angel.

Namjoon unceremoniously pushed him into the room, watching with crossed arms as he stumbled inside. "Don't try to tell me what I know or understand. Everything that I've done is out of my love for you and Jin. All I still plan on doing is because of how much I love you. Don't ever doubt that, Jungkook."

"Are you sure that what you feel for me and Jin is love? Because from here, it looks a lot like obsession and possession. You haven't shown us respect or faith or loyalty. You broke our trust. You proved that at the end of the day, the only person who matters to you is you."

Namjoon's face went slack, the prior fire in his eyes burning out completely. "I'm sorry I've made you feel that way. And I know . . . I know you don't believe me right now. But I do love you, Kook. I love you and Jin and -"

"I don't want to talk to you anymore," Jungkook cut him off, physically unable to stomach this conversation. He needed to be alone, to calm himself down so he could think of a way to save himself and Taehyung.

A weak sigh sounded from his brother, but he didn't say anything else. He simply walked out of the room and closed the door, barely sparing him a parting glance.

Jungkook held his breath, waiting to hear the telltale click of the door locking. But the sound never came . . . Namjoon didn't lock the door.

After remaining in place for a full minute - he wanted to ensure his brother didn't return prematurely - he crept closer to the door. His fingers wrapped around the handle, twisting slowly and then pulling open. How he got this lucky, how fate blessed him like this -

A tall figure suddenly stepped in front of him, the looming presence blocking his escape.

"Back in the room, kid," a gruff-looking man ordered, stepping forward in order to force Jungkook back inside. "I'm standing guard, so don't get any funny ideas."

Jungkook wanted to scream. Once again, he found himself in a cage of his brother's making, a jail locked by Namjoon's so-called love. But this wasn't love. This wasn't consideration or affection or respect.

This was ownership.

This was Namjoon exerting control.

Adrenaline rushed through Jungkook's body as he slammed the door shut, locking it purely out of spite. He needed to do something, to release the build-up of resentment and bewilderment. If he didn't get it all out of his system now, he feared he'd be driven by a desire for vengeance. He feared that his vision would tunnel and that he'd lose sight of what was most important right now.

So he lunged for the boxes with Namjoon's belongings, kicking at the cardboard over and over and over again. But that wasn't enough. He needed more.

His eyes landed on a bookcase, the most ornate piece of furniture in the room. Its shelves were crammed with books of all shapes, sizes, and colors, a true testament to his brother's love for knowledge. It was the perfect representation of what Namjoon valued most in this world.

Jungkook moved forward without thinking, his fingers pulling out book after book and throwing them onto the floor. He felt on edge - twitchy, even - as he flung the books from their shelves, his breathing ragged and out of control. He hated how powerless he was; he hated that he couldn't do anything productive. He hated that he was so blind, that his hero was the villain all this time.

He hated that he still wanted to love his brother anyway.

With a sob, he continued flinging the books around the room, resolving not to stop until each volume lay creased and upside down on the floor. Only then would he be able to calm down and pull himself together. But when Jungkook went to grab the next book - a plain, leather-bound novel - it didn't budge.

Weird.

There was a slight gap between the top of the book and the shelf, so Jungkook slid his fingers over the pages in an attempt to investigate further. He noticed two things simultaneously. One, the top of the book was oddly smooth, void of the signature texture of book pages. And two, there was a small, circular object protruding from the top.

A button.

He pushed down on the button without hesitation but immediately let go once a low whirring noise sounded from the bookshelf. It was reminiscent of gears turning, of a machine in motion. It seemed like something right out of an action or sci-fi movie.

If Jungkook hadn't already seen the technology behind the Kims' bunker, he never would've figured out that this bookcase was actually a door.

"No fucking way," Jungkook murmured to himself, pushing on the button again and watching as the bookcase gradually swung open.

A dark tunnel revealed itself to Jungkook, and he instantly knew that it would lead him somewhere outside. Just like the bunker and the safe house in Daegu, there was always a need to have a concealed route out.

Jungkook took a step forward, letting his eyes adjust to the darkened space. While he assumed this tunnel would get him far away from this house, he didn't know if it led to the other rooms as well. He also didn't know if anyone - if Namjoon, even - was aware that this security feature existed.

There was only one way to find out.

Even if it meant endangering himself, Jungkook was going to explore this tunnel and do whatever was needed to find and rescue Taehyung. He was instating himself as his angel's unofficial bodyguard, as the person who would defy all odds and take risks when others couldn't. He was choosing to banish his panic and rage in exchange for something incredibly more powerful.

Love and resilience.

And yes, there was so much at stake, but Jungkook didn't focus on what he had to lose. He instead focused on everything he had gained over these last few weeks - an angel who saved him time and time again.

Fuck, Taehyung saved Jungkook. He saved him from his anguish, that debilitating agony and cynicism. He saved him from his loneliness, from attackers, from himself. That was what they did . . . they saved each other in every single way possible.

And this time would be no different.

This time, Jungkook would prove that the only hero he needed was himself.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

》 V A L E N W R I T I N G 《

Wow, a lot to unpack here! What are our thoughts on everyone, particularly Namjoon and Jin?

I wanted to talk a lot about trust and betrayal in this chapter, specifically around the character of Namjoon. I'm sure many of us have been hurt by those we trusted - our heroes - and it's never easy to see an entirely new side of them. Things aren't ever black and white (even though the Capricorn in me wishes that they were!), and there are always multiple facets to our loved ones. I'm excited to explore this more!

If you haven't seen my recent announcement, I released a collection called One United Army. As a huge thank you to you guys - and a way for me to focus on smaller projects - I will be taking your ideas/requests and turning them into one-shots. Go check it out, submit your ideas, and come along for the ride!