When Hoseok awakens, his head is throbbing. The world around him is blurry as his vision takes its sweet time to focus. As the vague lines of the furniture in the room transition into crisp, clean ones, he realizes he doesn't know where he is. He's sitting on a couch in an empty but otherwise cozy room. He wonders if one of his friends threw a party the night before and he drank too much to remember it, but then he realizes he doesn't remember driving to one of his friend's places. In fact, the last place he remembers driving is—

"Oh, god." He mumbles, lips feeling like cotton. Hoseok's drowsy senses are suddenly immersed in a panic. He remembers everything now. The abandoned house. The Chinese food. The cat in the doorway, the girl's bonechilling voice and the cool metal of a gun pressed against the back of his head—the sharp pains in his head become even more vivid. Oh, shit—did she shoot me? Is that why my head hurts? "Oh, oh, oh no, I've been shot. I have been shot." His frazzled brain illogically connects the dots. "Wait, how am I alive? Wait, am I alive?"

He hears a snicker followed by some shushing in response to his question, and he gasps, brain still not fully computing, overwhelmed by panic and vertigo.

"God? Is that you?" Hoseok asks, wondering if God is the one laughing at his unfortunate situation. But then, two men step into his vision. Both are tall and muscular, one with peachy blonde hair and the other with brown hair. The brown haired one smiles with a gentle demeanor, his dimples prominent, but the other man is biting down hard on the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. Hoseok eyes them, jaw dropping open in awe. "I didn't think God would look like this. Unless you're Satan, and I've gone to hell." Hoseok blurts, filter long gone.

"Hoseok, calm down." The brown haired man instructs him. His voice is soothing, reassuring, gentle. The very sound of it makes Hoseok's tense muscles relax. "You're not dead." He explains, and Hoseok's brows furrow.

"I'm not?" He asks, confused.

"No, you're not." The brown haired man confirms.

"But I was shot. In the head. You don't just casually survive gunshot wounds to the head, you know." Hoseok rambles.

"You weren't shot either." The man says.

"I wasn't?" Hoseok doublechecks.

"No." The man answers.

"Then why does my head hurt?" Hoseok wonders.

"Your head hit the ground when you fainted." The brownhaired man answers again.

"It might also be because I hit your head on the doorframe a little when I carried you downstairs. My bad." The peach haired man speaks up, but the brownhaired man elbows him in the ribs, and he shuts up.

"Oh. Well, that's nice. I liked living. Also, my mom would kill me if I died, so." Hoseok exclaims in relief. Momentary relief. "Wait! If I'm not dead, and you're not God, why the fuck am I here? How do you know my name."

"One question at a time." The brown haired man chuckles kindheartedly, eyes crinkling in his smile. Something about this man's demeanor is the sole thing preventing Hoseok from going into a whole mental breakdown. "I'm Namjoon, and this is Jungkook. We won't hurt you, and we'll answer all your questions. We know your name because we looked through your wallet and your phone to be sure you were of no threat to us." He explains, but Hoseok is still on edge, and the way the man ends his sentence makes Hoseok highly creeped out.

"What do you mean, 'a threat to you?' Who are you?" Hoseok blurts, thoughts finally becoming coherent sentences with at least a little logic behind them.

"Hoseok, have you ever heard of The Bangtan Blood?" Namjoon asks, and Hoseok's face visibly pales, jaw going slack. This can't be happening. This cannot be happening. Hoseok doesn't know if he's going to pass out or shit himself or both. There is no way in heaven or hell that he is in the presence of The Bangtan Blood, the most infamous gang in all of South Korea. Namjoon must see the utter fear on his face, because he rushes into his next explanation. "Please, don't be afraid. We only prosecute those who try to hurt us, and you—well, from what I've gotten so far, you're not trying to."

"I'm not! I'm just a med student who works part time at Ming's delivering Chinese food! This was the address they gave me!" Hoseok exclaims, pleading for mercy. Namjoon and Jungkook share a look, and Namjoon nods. "I'm not a threat! I mean, have you seen me? I have noodle arms, and I eat ramen at least twice a day!" Hoseok says, holding up his arm and pointing at it for emphasis. It's true, compared to Jungkook's grapefruit sized muscles, his are miniscule, and in any other situation he would be embarrassed to admit that, but now, he hopes his relative weakness will convince the intimidating gang members he isn't dangerous.

"I believe you. But our boss...she won't be happy if we don't conduct a thorough interrogation." Namjoon admits, and Hoseok's eyes practically pop out of his head.

"An interrogation?" He repeats. "Are you gonna take me to a room and shine a super bright light in my face and throw buckets of ice water on me?" He asks, fear creeping in his stomach.

"I think you watch too many scary movies." Jungkook observes.

"Hoseok, I need you to understand one thing—we aren't going to hurt you. We don't hurt people unless we need to." Namjoon reassures him. Again, just through the intensity in Namjoon's brown eyes, Hoseok feels significantly calmer, less anxious, more trusting. "We're just going to ask you a few more questions, and then you'll be on your way. You can forget any of this ever happened." The thought of leaving and never coming back is like music to Hoseok's ears.

"Okay. Let's do this. I want to go home." He says, and they get into it. Namjoon's questions are thorough, but the questioning isn't aggressive. He's kind, and halfway through, another man with black hair and a sweet smile the other two identify as Jimin brings down some tea and chocolate chip cookies. The whole process is anticlimactic for a gang, let alone The Bangtan Blood. Hoseok is just waiting for the "blood" part of their title to make itself known, but for the next two hours, the interrogation is comfortable.

Finally, when Hoseok's mug is empty and Jungkook has devoured the majority of the cookies, Namjoon stands up. "You're good to go. I'm really sorry you got roped into all of this. If it were up to me, you'd have been out of here hours ago." He says, and Hoseok manages a tired smile. He shakes both Namjoon and Jungkook's hands, and the two men lead him up the stares. He sees the curve of the tattoo of a snake around Jungkook's bicep peek out from beneath Jungkook's sleeve as he walks in front of him, opening the door to the main floor of the house.

The rest of the house looks way less abandoned than the entrance. It's cozy, Hoseok observes, with a living room and a TV, pictures of Jungkook, Namjoon and Jimin with other men on the walls. A voice in the back of Hoseok's mind is still wondering how such civilized, friendly men could be apart of such a bloody, violent gang, but he tries not to think about that. They lead Hoseok back through the first floor, and when they turn the next corner, they reach the unfinished foyer, all dust and stone floors and gray, emptyness.

"Thanks for cooperating." Namjoon says, as Jungkook leans against the wall opposite wall, next to the only source of light in the dark room: the broken shards of light from the setting sun filtering in through the boards nailed to the windows. "Good luck with school and everything." Hoseok nods, running a hand through his messy black hair.

"Thanks for not killing me or anything." He deadpans, and Namjoon laughs once more. He says his goodbyes to the two men once more, before reaching for the door. The idea of getting to go home and take some Advil for his still slightly throbbing head and sleeping for the rest of the summer sounds heavenly.

But before he can turn the knob—

"Wait." Jungkook says. Hoseok glances over his shoulder at the peach haired boy. "You hear that?" He asks quietly. The other men go silent, and the hairs on the back of Hoseok's neck stand up as a high pitched beeping noise fills their ears.

"Holy shit—"

"Everybody get down—" Namjoon begins, but is interrupted by the wall behind Jungkook exploding in a brilliant flash of light and blowing the house to smithereens.

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