☂ Chapter 26 ☂

It was time to say goodbye.

One month after closing the trafficking case, Y/n found herself at the airport out of uniform, but feeling like she had it on anyway. It was on her body, even when she was naked. That feeling amplified in JFK. Countless crowds surrounded her as she bounced and stormed her way through them, stumbling and almost falling if it weren't for Jimin's grip on her elbow keeping her upright.

Ever since Jimin "resigned," or got kind of fired, from NYPD, he hadn't been the same. NYPD had been his life, and the reason he had vacated South Korea. But after so much time, the resignation was like a wake up call to him, and she couldn't blame him. The warehouse and trafficking case had been a wake up call for her, and she had plans to take advantage of it.

Jimin and her didn't talk as they navigated the hectic airport, making their way to one of the various gates Y/n couldn't remember the number of to save her life. It was a good thing she wasn't on the flight, otherwise she'd be screwed. It wasn't like she had ever been on a plane before, so she didn't know the first thing about all that stuff other than it was stressful and stupid. Most airlines screwed the people over for an extra buck. Oh, and fuck Boeing, apparently. Anytime she looked into airfare, she saw the phrase "If it's a Boeing, I'm not going." Ever since, she made a mental pact to fly Airbus planes. Not that she had the money for either, but still. At least Jimin was flying an Airbus. She thought so, anyway. Shit, she couldn't remember. How was she an officer with her memory being as reliable as Dory's?

"This way, darling," Jimin said, tugging her closer to one of the quieter areas. It was nearby his gate (she thought so, anyway—still didn't remember the gate number), but not quite in front of it, and she furrowed her brows upon seeing him slow to a halt.

"Jimin, wha-"

"Shh." He placed his finger over her lips, bringing his red and blue suitcase behind him so he could place his other hand on her cheek. The loud chatter of JFK fell into the background, as did the overwhelming smell of sweat. Instead, she focused on Jimin's peachy aroma and puppy-like eyes. "I'll come back soon, okay? You know I don't want to go without you, but..."

"You need to do it alone." She hummed as she said it, chuckling afterward. "I know. I'm not going anywhere. Unlike you, I have a job, soooo..."

"Okay, ouch." He put a hand over his chest and pouted. "Low blow."

"Nu-uh: true blow."

Jimin snickered and kissed her forehead, keeping his voice quiet. "Alright, alright, as true as that is, that's not the point. The point is I'm trying to be all romantic, and you're making fun of me."

"You enjoy it. Don't lie to yourself, you little masochist."

"Hey," he said with a huff, rolling his adorable little eyes. "I'll have you know I'm not a masochist, I just endure pain to see if I can handle it. Not because I'm a masochist. There's a difference."

"Riiiight, and I love it when you choke me because I want to see if I can handle it, not because I'm into it."

"Don't tempt me to bend you over in the bathroom before I go-"

"Jimin."

"Right. We're supposed to be saying goodbye. Sorry." He stopped for a moment to grin, a single dimple poking against his cheek. "I love you, Y/n. When I come back, things might be different. You know that, right?"

"I know. And I know neither of us are swimming in money, so if you need a place to stay, there's enough room for you and your little buddy at my place."

He eye smiled. "You mean that? You wouldn't mind raising him with me?"

"Jimin, you're an obnoxious asshole who undoubtedly has anger issues and is a masochist." He whined like a baby. Y/n cut him off by wrapping her arms around his neck. "But, I love you more than anything and anyone. I'd love to start a beautiful life with you and June. Anyone you love is someone I love too. Plus, if he's anything like you, I know he's already an amazing fellow. He's got a great dad."

Tears welled in Jimin's eyes, but they didn't pass. "Great dads don't leave their kids. They fight for them."

Y/n grabbed his suitcase and handed it to him, slipping the handle between his fingers. "Then go do it."

Jimin didn't hesitate to lean down and kiss her. Although they were in public, Y/n didn't care. Any conversations and noises disappeared so she could focus on him, and she shut her eyes and kissed back. It was a sweet, short kiss, and when they parted, Jimin placed his forehead on hers.

"I love you, Y/n L/n."

She beamed. "I love you too, Park Jimin."

The PA called out saying his gate (which was terminal one, gate one), was boarding, and they were calling out depending on priority. Jimin splurged and got first-class for both the flight there and back in a handful of days. He'd be there for two days, but the flight time from New York City to Busan was... large, to say the least. So large that it made Jimin Junior look small.

"I'll see you soon, honey," he said, giving her forehead one last kiss before waving and rushing off to his gate.

He had first priority after the flight crew, so he got in line and prepared his phone to scan his ticket. She had a feeling he'd be dirt broke after his trip, and that on top of him not having a job made it difficult, but she'd support him. Plus, he had plenty of skills. She had no doubt he'd find something sustainable soon.

She watched him scan his ticket and enter. As soon as he did, she lingered to see if he'd come back, but he didn't. She knew he wouldn't. Despite that, she missed his face. But oh well, too late. It was time for her to-

'Bump!'

She yelped when someone's shoulder smacked hers, and she jumped back and wanted to reach for her taser, but she remembered she wasn't in uniform. That meant she had to pat herself down and clear her throat to deal with the situation the normal way: social interaction. Ugh. Could she shoot herself instead? Shit, no Glock either. Dammit.

"Sorry," she said. She didn't know what she was apologizing for. It wasn't like she was standing in the middle of the walkway. Then again, it was New York. New Yorkers walked where they wanted to.

"No need, officer," the voice of Jeon Jungkook replied.

She snapped around and saw his bunny smile, and she resisted the urge to slap him. "Jungkook? You scared the shit out of me!"

"Whoops, sorry." He pointed to the gate. "Jimin onboard?"

"You're a little late, but yeah. If you run after him, maybe he'll leave his fancy smancy first class seat to hug you."

Jungkook shook her off. "Nah. He won't notice me until we land. I'm flying economy."

She stiffened at that, her jaw falling open to speak, but it took a moment until she could stumble the single word out. "What?"

"Officer Park's not the only one with unfinished business in Korea." It was just then that she noticed the duffel bag Jungkook had, and he hoisted it over his shoulder before giving her a nod. "See you around, Y/n."

Although confused, she didn't bother replying as Jungkook went to the gate and sat in the waiting section with his phone out and resting on his lap. She rubbed her eyes to ensure the sight was real, and when she did, she opted out. Yep, that was right: she left. Jungkook and Jimin could sort that complicated relationship out on their own. It was time for Y/n to find her old man and hibernate for two days.

She swiveled on her heels and departed the area, traversing through thick crowds that bumped her harder than Jungkook ever dared to. Laughter and people filled her ears. None of them were comprehensible, so she kept pushing through until she made it to the doors and rushed out, almost kissing the ground once she did.

Since she was a police officer, despite not being in uniform, she had her cruiser, which shut the employees up. They let her park out front with her four-way flashers going so long as she was quick, and she was. Jimin went earlier in the day to check in and do the pre-flight shit, and Y/n took Seulgi and Hobi later to say goodbye.

After Seulgi, Hobi, and Jimin had met out front and hugged, Y/n followed Jimin inside to get him to the plane. That led her to her current position: stepping out to locate her cruiser. It was a few spots down, and she whistled to herself as travelers rushed by. None acknowledged her, not that she was expecting them to without her badge visible.

The stroll to her cruiser was peaceful. Well, at least it was until she actually got there. Her cruiser was off to the side, and leaning against it was Kang Seulgi. On any other day, that would be no issue, but it was an issue because Jung Hoseok was with her, and not "with her" in an innocent sense, no.

They were making out.

Against Y/n's cruiser.

"I- hey! Not my car!"

Y/n stomped forward, and the pair hopped apart and rushed to explain themselves, but all their words came out as stutters. They backed off and scratched the back of their necks in sync, and Y/n glanced between the two flustered lovebirds. As much as her poor car had trauma after that experience, Y/n found herself chuckling, which had Hoseok and Seulgi freezing and staring at her with wide eyes. Y/n grinned.

"Took you long enough."

☂☂☂

Y/n found him, and he was where she had expected him to be.

Old Man Pete was a tough bastard who didn't take anyone's shit, but as soon as Y/n so much as frowned, he turned into a soft, stereotypical grandpa who bought her ice cream. That was why she had never searched for him; he had been old. Old people died easier, and that was what happened to him.

The graveyard smelled of dirt and dead bugs, if they had a scent. Maybe it was the corpses underground, but she chose to believe it was the bugs instead. Her boots squished into the terrain softened by the drizzles falling from the gray sky. Clouds covered any hope of sunlight, replacing it with an overcast environment that wasn't dark, but not bright, either. Trees with weeping canopies stretched out and provided a shield from New York's typical showers. Y/n leaned against the rough bark of one and peered at the headstone.

Pete Salinger

After searching 1PP's records and obituaries, Y/n found him. Someone had cared enough to bury poor Pete. She didn't know who, but she figured a distant relative or someone who heard of his passing. Part of her wondered if the reason he was buried was so others didn't feel as bad about taking the money he left in his will. None to her that she knew of. Not because he didn't love her—he loved her more than anyone—but because he knew she'd resurrect him just to kill his ass if he left a cent for her. She appreciated that he honored her wishes. It would've been easy not to. After all, he'd be dead, so it wasn't like he'd see the consequences.

She knelt in front of the grave, noticing how plain it was. There were no quotes, no one-liners, no descriptions about him as a person—only his name and the years he lived from. If Y/n were in charge of burying him, she'd do the same. No slab of stone could tell the tale of such an individual. It couldn't show the Friday nights they stayed up watching the Fast and Furious movies while downing ice cream, the Halloweens where he cut holes in sheets and had her terrorize the other apartments, the Christmases where he bought her new gloves. Nothing could capture that.

"You're an asshole," she whispered to the grave, snorting afterward. "Didn't even say goodbye, huh? Well, can't say I'm surprised. Not like you were much for them anyway. Would've been nice to get a warning, though."

Not that she needed one. Old Man Pete was called Old Man Pete for a reason; age wasn't on his side, and she had a feeling for years that he had succumbed to it. Part of her hoped he went down in a gunfight. He was a Fast and Furious fan, after all. Action was his favorite thing in the world, right behind Y/n.

"I'm sorry I didn't come find you sooner, old man."

She placed her gloved hand on the tombstone, staring at the fabric that hid her scars. Countless littered her flesh. They weighed her down, even when she couldn't see them. Yet, in that moment, they disappeared. They evaporated into the earth, just like Old Man Pete.

The ones she had on were gifted to her by Pete, and she took them off to shower, that was about it. That or when her and Jimin had sex. He adored feeling her fingers in his hair—her real ones. That had her rubbing her hands together until she made her final decision.

The right glove came off. Bare skin flashed in the dim light. Her skin looked different than she remembered—it wasn't as disgusting. The sight didn't make her want to mutilate herself and throw the remainders in an erupting volcano. If anything, the feelings were dormant.

The second one came off next. She set it atop the mound of dirt hiding the rotting bones and organs underneath. The two black gloves didn't budge. They were flowers in Y/n's eyes. So, she got up and didn't brush herself off. Her bare hands shook for several seconds. Three. Six. Nine. Eleven. They stopped before twelve, and the scars and marks she had attempted to hide didn't cower away. Neither did she.

Her feet carried her a few steps back, and she watched the grave. It didn't move, and it didn't say goodbye. Typical Pete. But that didn't bother her. Instead, she stared and stared and stared, waiting for a sign. None came. She stared some more.

And then, she walked away.

☂☂☂