Jungkook

The first thing Jungkook noticed upon waking up: how cold he was.

It felt like there were like needles endlessly puncturing his skin all over his body, although, he was pretty sure that all his extremities had gone numb. He couldn't feel his legs. Cold licked at his face and crept under his clothes, spreading across his skin like the lacy tide on a frigid winter beach. With purple lips tinged with blue, and gently chattering teeth, the bionic tried to wrap his arms around him tighter, only to find that he had lost all feeling from both of his upper limbs.

The second thing he noticed: how dark it was.

He wasn't even sure if at this point his eyes were open or not, but all he could see was just a void of black. Without his vision, his mind couldn't piece together where in the world he could be, or what had happened to him just hours before. The biting cold chilled his fingers into clumsy numbness, cold seeped into his toes and spread painfully throughout his feet as if it were his bare skin on the pristine icy whiteness rather than his brogues, and his teeth only continued to chatter like a pneumatic drill.
He began to lose his sense of time. Had he been out there for minutes, or hours?

Where was he?

Jungkook breathed in, inhaling the fierce, raw winter air, and tried to focus his attention on rewinding the current past events which had led him to...well, where he was currently. Was he sitting down? Standing? Was he laying on the ground? Was he even situated upright?
Jungkook couldn't even begin to tell, because the longer he debated mentally the faster his entire body from the neck down become leached of feeling or sensation, and the fact that the bionic slowly couldn't even feel any of the earlier pain from the snow gave out clear warning signs that something was not right.

His brow furrowed, and suddenly a high-pitched noise filled his ears as he tried to revive his brain. His system wasn't working, he couldn't think straight after being...had he been drugged? The heaviness of his chest as he tried to steady his breathing, and the drowsiness which was clouding his trail of thought suggested that that was very probable. It also could have contributed to the numbess he was feeling, the weighted numbness residing throughout his blood which contrasted with the frosted unfeeling from the cold.

He couldn't remember anything at all.

I need to get out of this blizzard.

Even though he couldn't see anything, Jungkook could hear how the wind bawled and wailed above him like the stiff, frigid breeze that it was, and even though he couldn't feel anything except the cold, he was pretty sure he was covered in snow.

What was he supposed to do now?

***
Jimin

As he walked down the now icy street, Jimin grabbed both ends of his coat and overlapped the sides in an attempt to shield his body from the cold wind. He couldn't believe how bad the weather had gotten; it had only been raining that morning, and now the whole of Busan had more or less shut down due to the thick snowstorm which enveloped the city. Yoongi had insisted that Jimin borrow his car to drive to the supermarket, but Jimin had insisted back that the 10 minute walk down the road wasn't worth the potential damage to Yoongi's new car. So he had borrowed Yoongi's beige, fur coat since they were both near to the same height, and left Yoongi to clean up a bit while he was out.

Jimin giggled to himself. With how the afternoon had played out, him and Yoongi seemed like a couple at this point. He had liked Yoongi in the past, during their time at university together, but Jimin had never been sure if he'd ever wanted to pursue his feelings. He wasn't sure if what he was currently feeling was something past the point of platonic or not anymore, and they were somewhat best friends after spending 2 years living next door to each other. Although the thought of being Yoongi's potential partner felt swell, it was still a question that Jimin was afraid to answer.
He was just getting his life together, and he wanted to take it one step at a time.

Also, he wasn't even sure if Yoongi was gay, so that was something.

The street was empty, and the only source of light Jimin had was the occasional still-functioning lamp post which he passed at the end of each block. Most of the electricity had been cut off, and he could see after walking past a few blocks of apartments that some still had access to power. So Jimin turned to simply walking slowly with one foot out in front of the other. It was a pretty awkward manoeuvre, but it had prevented Jimin from accidentally slipping on areas of ice beneath the snow which he couldn't see.

Being so englufed in his own footsteps, he had completely missed the strange dark shape leant up against the supermarket wall.

***
Jungkook

Was there someone there? The bionic had heard the slow steps of a person gradually walk past him, and Jungkook had desperately tried to open his mouth and yell out for help, but whatever he had been drugged with had almost completely blocked off his sense of movement. He hadn't been called out to by the passerby, so Jungkook assumed that it was probably night time considering the lack of people. It would suggest why he hadn't been seen. He had heard a faint tune and the sound of sliding doors. Was he outside of a convenience store? Deserted?

So in other words, he had no hope?
Jungkook sunk even deeper into the snow, and simply listened to his surroundings.

It wasn't like he felt particularly bad or anything. To be fair, about a month ago, if he had been placed in this same position he would have been more accepting of this cold fate. As a bionic person, his main goal in life was to help humans, and since he felt that he hadn't lived up to that as much as he could have, he relished the thought of fading away.

But something had changed for the bionic as of lately.

Somehow...Jungkook had begun to occasionally wonder what it was like to have, what humans called 'emotions'. Arguably, he still felt like he had opinions on certain matters just like every other bionic, but he would judge them based on their morality, not by an opinion driven by his own emotions.

But sometimes, and especially at that very moment, he couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to look at something and feel...anything. Anger, sadness, happiness, love...not just, contentment. Jungkook wanted...to experience something more than, whatever he had always felt. Which was close to nothingness.

The closest that he had gotten to such a faraway speculation had been that very afternoon, in the office with Hoseok. The snow that had first started to fall outside the window had danced in pretty circles quite erratically, and it had caught Jungkook's eye.

It was...nice. What had that meant for him though? Had it really meant anything? Could bionics even admire natureful beauty?

Jungkook heaved out a long sigh. He didn't want to come to the probable outcome of death, because he wanted to just be around longer, and as a bionic person he had only existed for a couple of months. But unless he was found and aided by someone, Jungkook came to the conclusion that outside somewhere in the snow, next to a convenience store, away from the factory, this would be his deathbed.

As his mind started to dissipate, the sound of the sliding doors brought him back to life, and half in anguish, he tried for the last time to call out for help.

***
Jimin

When he entered the supermarket, he was greeted by the cashier who bowed upon his entrance.

"Welcome! I'm surprised to see anyone out when it's this dark and this cold!"

Jimin nodded back towards the cashier. "Me and my friend were desperate for food." He struck up a conversation with the cashier, and she informed him to be careful when walking back. Apparently, earlier on that day, a group of suspicious looking men had come in, and left after spending a fair good thirty minutes without buying anything. Jimin thanked her, before grabbing a basket and browsing the isles for food.

He could make some sort of pasta? It wasn't too hard to make, and he had had enough practice throughout his three years of uni. His mind brushed over the idea of a hot pot, and he smiled to himself. Himself, Jihyun (his brother) and his mother would always have hot pot in the winter, around this time of year. One to welcome the cold season, and one to end it.

A wave of nostalgia and sadness swept over him. The last time his family had all been together had been maybe two years ago.

Jimin and Jihyun never knew their father. Their mother had told them that he had died when they were both young. She didn't liked to speak of it much. Two years ago, Jimin had just finished his second year of university, and Jihyun had been amidst his mock exams.

It had also been the same year in which their mother had been diagnosed with very mild leukaemia. Luckily for Jimin's family, it had been incredibly inactive in the beginning. But every winter, it only seemed to worsen, to the point where she had to be kept under constant surveillance in the hospital at this time of year. Jimin also had noticed that day that despite her cheery mood, she seemed a lot thinner, a lot more faded out. Just not full of life. Not as full as she used to be.

Jimin and Jihyun both started to work part time to help pay for the hospital bills. Jihyun had even taken a few months off school to work full time when Sun Hee's case would worsen. But Jihyun had always refused to visit in person. She told Jimin that he would call, and that he was always busy with school work, but Jimin hadn't bought that lie. Then again, he knew his mother wasn't stupid, and he knew that she was probably hurting more than them both. Jimin recognised his little brother's way of dealing with his own hurt, but unfortunately for the both of them Jihyun and Jimin were polar opposites in that aspect.
She seemed to have been getting better lately, and because of that, the work load Jihyun had eased off a fair lot, allowing him to concentrate on his finals.

But still, Jimin couldn't understand why he refused to see her. It just didn't sit well with him.

Jimin decided to go with the first option of pasta, since he betted Yoongi didn't even own a hot pot to begin with. He hurriedly paid the cashier and wished her a well before stepping out again into the freezing cold.

He walked a few paces into the snow until he stood beneath a lamp post, and watched as the snowfall began to ease. When he breathed out, the moisture from his mouth turned to vapor, and for a few minutes he simply stood there puffing out hot air and watching it disappear into the night, the only sounds reaching his ears was his own breathing.

But before he could walk away, he had heard a faint voice behind him, seeking out a hand of succour.

A voice so weak, he almost didn't hear it.

"...h e l p..."

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not a lot of speech in this one