What if Taehyung never set the ocean on fire? 

The alternative ending comes directly after the chapter 'Inconsequential'.

I'd 100% recommend a refresh on that chapter before reading this, but to put it briefly:

Jungkook is still suffering from his shoulder injury. Saffy sent Tae on the hunt for Jungkook. They've just had a lovely trip out on the Selenelion, toying with the idea of starting a family. Jimin has knocked up the barmaid, Sarah.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

3 Days Later

"Han?" Jungkook croaked as he came to. Resting on his side, a tower of pillows prevented him from rolling over and onto his damaged shoulder. A beep echoed around him, steady and stable, repeating in short intervals. Zoflora and sterile sheets intruded in on his sense of smell, as bright light seeped in through the semi-closed Venetian blinds. 

By the window, Hana turned to face her lover.

"Hello, you," she said with a tepid smile. Something was wrong, Jungkook could tell.

The hospital that he was in should have been the first give away. The searing pain in his back should have been the second, and the fact that his body was no longer burning, the third.

Crouching by his bed so that she was eye level with him, Hana drank in his eyes. She hadn't seen them open in three days. Stroking his cheek, she pouted. 

"You had me scared," she whispered. "I love you."

"I love you more," he said with zero hesitation. "What happened?"

Before she could respond, his fatigued muscles tried to pull her up.

She smiled, knowing what he was after, letting him guide her up onto the bed with him. Shuffling back, he pushed his pillow tower as he went, clearing enough space for her to lie down opposite him.

No questions were asked and shoes were slipped off, Hana crawling up onto the far-too-firm mattress beside him. She'd missed those eyes so much. Toying with his hair, she took a second before she accumulated the words she needed to say.

"You collapsed on the way back to Jukdo," her pout hadn't faded. "Sepsis. That fucking shoulder, Kook. I told you," her voice began to whisper sadly. "I told you."

He frowned, lamenting his resistance. She had told him.

"Are we...?"

"Mainland," she nodded, eyes warm with tears that were threatening to fall. "I'm sorry. I just didn't know what to do, Kook, you were so weak-"

"Shush, sh sh," he whispered, pulling her head into his chest. Soothing the weak sobs that shook from her body, his hands stroked her shoulder affectionately, while a kiss found its home in her hair. "It's okay, Han. It's okay. It's okay."

Mainland. Fuck.

Jungkook really didn't think that things were okay, but there was no way he could tell Hana that. Not when she was already so worried.

"Where abouts are we?"

"Gangneun," she sniffed, trying to sort herself out. "20 miles north of Donghae. It was the closest place I could think of that we hadn't been before with port access. Pohang, Donghae, Busan, they'd have been there."

Nodding, Jungkook considered the reality that they were living in. Mainland had been his biggest fear, but it didn't actually feel all that scary now that he was living through it.

"Any news on the city gangs?" Jungkook asked quietly, not really wanting an answer. 

"Hoseok called a few times," she admitted. "Tae's gone off the rails."

"What's new?"

"Shush," Hana half-laughed. "He thinks Saffy is regretting her choices."

It wouldn't have surprised Jungkook in the slightest if that was the case. The boy had been a liability for months, and he was only getting worse. With no law and order to keep him in check, and without the guidance of Jin, all of Tae's impulses had gone unchecked. It was a dog eat dog world out there, and he was the fucking Breeder. He ate pups for breakfast.

They let silence simmer around them, as Jungkook watched the gloomy horizon float on by in the dreary window.

Slate grey clouds had spread themselves possessively across the sky, as if to prevent Hana and Jungkook from the luxury of being kissed by the sun. 

The skies were supposed to have earned a new star on the night that Jungkook collapsed; a guiding light, a shining example for all to see. It was to have been a warning for those who toyed with the red strings of fate and tangled them in knots - but instead, Hana had cut him loose. 

She wasn't supposed to have taken him to the mainland. She wasn't supposed to have checked him into the hospital. She wasn't supposed to have saved him.

But she had.

And, so, the skies were furious with the young lovers.

Dusk was approaching, though, and the moon had risen to face the sun in that curious way it so often liked to do. 

Its grey face was speckled with indentations, remnants of stardust scattered across its surface, and as she faced the sun, she smiled. 

Like clockwork, the sun smiled back, a ray of light cracking through the clouds, wishing Jungkook and Hana a fond farewell. 

It was the moons turn now to watch over them and calm the seas. Yes, the moon thought. The storms should settle. There's no need for them anymore. Peace would be pleasant. 

Jungkook stayed under observation for two further days until he was discharged from the small hospital. It had been decided during his coma by Jimin and Hana alike that returning to Ulleungdo or Jukdo while he was weak would be a death wish. Naturally, he protested, but she'd hidden the keys to his car in the sole of her shoe, and made him close his eyes every single time she went to retrieve them.

And so Hana nursed Jungkook back to health in a rotting old motel just off the highway of the main road back to the city. 

Neither of them could decide if the stain on the curtain was blood or chocolate sundae. Cigarette tar has discoloured the peeling wallpapers and only one of the light fixtures worked, but after a week or two, they'd gotten used to keeping the blinds drawn and making sure the gun by the bed was loaded.  

They would dance to the analogue radio stations that only ever played the same ten songs on repeat, and Jungkook had read the dictionary from cover to cover in a bid to outwit her at scrabble even just once. She always beat him, but she half suspected that he let her, just for the joy of seeing her smile. 

By the time the month was up, Jungkook was slightly out of shape - thanks, motel vending machine - but he was healthy as he could be given the circumstances. And he was happy. So if that was a measure of health, then he had never been better.

"You ready to do this?" Jungkook asked Hana as he clasped onto her hand for dear life while they bid farewell to their temporary shit-heap of a home.

She looked around, strangely saddened to be leaving the place. They'd carved their initials in the wooden slats beneath the mattress and spent countless nights resting their aching bones in bubble baths that had been formulated out of motel shampoo. She'd been bent over the desk in the corner more times than she could count, but she'd also sat by it, hunched over as she scrawled her thoughts into journals, that she always refused to let him read.

Her words were always embarrassing, too soft, too wet, too loving to simply let him study them. Instead, he would watch as she wrote, ignoring the television that was casting out reruns of old dramas. The flickering screen couldn't draw his gaze away from her, and the soundtrack couldn't distract his ears from the sound of her breathing.

God, it was his favourite sound. She and him, alive, together. What a blessing. What a God damn miracle.

"Never been more ready," she nodded, tightening her grip on his fingers. A shiver ran up her spine, fear overwhelming her but the safety of Jungkook's presence keeping her from succumbing to it. "Let's do it."

Jungkook glanced down to Hana, and pressed his lips into her hair, before opening the door to a new world.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Their arrival home was as smooth as could be.

Jimin was there to greet them at the port, ready to ship Jungkook's car over, and Sarah had been waiting on Jukdo with a home cooked meal for them all.

"Sarah, hi," Hana smiled warmly, pulling her in for a hug once they had arrived. Hair piled on top of her head in loose braids, rogue hairs trickled down to frame her sunkissed face. About to enter her second trimester, Sarah was beginning to show, and it suited her

"So good to see you, chick," She squeezed Hana tightly. 

The pair of them had grown close, thanks to Sarah being the one who would deliver Jungkook and Hana supplies.  It had started during her visits to the hospital for routine pregnancy check-ups, but had become more frequent in recent times as the pair of them prepared to return. 

She was unaffiliated, a random girl to anyone who knew the Dal Pa runaways, and therefore she was safe. Jimin made sure of it. Much to her dismay, he had some of the boys from the docks trail her whenever she went over to the mainland. He hated not being able to go with her, but while Taehyung was still out there acting like a mad man, it was safer for her to go alone.

It wasn't until two days after their arrival home that Jimin broke the news, updating them on Taehyung.

He had wanted them to at least somewhat enjoy returning home before shoving them back into work, but it was growing cruel by this point. 

"We got him," he had said, far more casually than he intended to. "Taehyung. We got him."

"Got him?" Hana questioned, brows furiously bunched together. Jungkook was silent.

"Alive," Jimin added, realising the confusion. "He was hiding out in one of the cargo units. Looked like he had been there for a week or so, from the makeshift set up. Wrappers everywhere. Poor fucker was surviving on Choco Pies and dried rice crackers."

"And now?" Jungkook took charge of the conversation, straightening up his back. "Where is he now?"

"In a holding cell in Ulleungo station. The guards are pretty fucking sick of him by this point."

Jungkook nodded, stewing for a moment before dismissing himself from the coffee table they had been sat around. Hana let him go, knowing that he probably needed a minute or two to process the news. 

Nightfall drew in slowly that evening on Ulleungdo. 

They were in the main port, sharing a meal and sipping wine as if things were normal. Jungkook looked at Jimin and Sarah, a young family in their infancy, full of smiles, and it was hard to think of the same Jimin who had spent his early twenties tearing up the streets of Seoul high on methamphetamines. 

When he glanced over to Hana, Jungkook couldn't help but feel undeserving of his life. The sun had almost finished setting, a pink haze haloing around her petite frame. She was in a sundress, tanned legs crossed over one another, with one of his hands resting on her thigh. He gave it a small squeeze, and, like a puppet responding to its master, she turned her face to look at him.

"Love you," she mouthed with a smile, cheeks rosy from the wine and eyes sparkling on account of the fact that she was looking at a galaxy himself.

Stealing a quick kiss, he whispered that he loved her more, and he meant it. There was no adequate expression to articulate quite how much he loved her.

She was the wax in his wings, and the parachute that would stop him from crashing into the rocks of Ulleungdo whenever he soared too high. Frankly, with Hana there was no such thing as too high - she'd be there, holding his hand the whole entire way, encouraging him with whispers of just one more. If he did soar too high, she'd only have herself to blame. 

Just one more. Jungkook shook his head and laughed quietly to himself. They'd never learn. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"It's one of the old trawlers," Jimin said of the dilapidated vessel, which they had been scoping out in a bid to fix a Taehyung shaped mess. "It's been kicking around for so long that there's no viable proof of ownership. It's been in the dock since the '90's apparently."

Jungkook ran his hand along the side of the boat, coming to grips with the plan. It wasn't something that he wanted to do, but he really didn't feel like he had a choice.

"How is he?" Jungkook hummed, trying to appear indifferent, forgetting that Jimin had come from the same world as him.

"You don't have to pretend that you're okay with it," Jimin tossed him a rope, encouraging him to help with the tethering. "It's just a means to an end, isn't it?"

With a sigh, Jungkook let the rope slide between his palms, burning at them ever so slightly. Sweat was dappling his shoulders and making his palm clammy, as there wasn't a single cloud to obscure the sun beating down on him. "Means to an end," he nodded regretfully.

"Do you... Do you want to speak with him first?" Jimin held the idea in the atmosphere as if he were dangling a carrot in front of a donkey. Jungkook knew that he'd never get what he wanted by chasing it, but he couldn't help but feel compelled to run regardless.

Eventually, after wrapping the rope securely into place, he shook his head. "I don't think I can."

Jungkook was everything that Taehyung said he was; a traitor, weak, good for nothing. He had chosen love over his family, but when he rationalised it, he knew that family shouldn't be putting you in a position where you had to choose. Hana had never made him sacrifice who he was. He had done so willingly because he was more himself with her than he ever had been in the years before he'd met her.

Speaking with Taehyung would do no good. Only more harm.

"We tether it to a larger ship," Jimin began to go over the plan as if it was his morning exercise routine. There was no alarm, no panic. Just simple instructions that even an idiot could follow. "Once we reach the predetermined coordinates, we'll anchor it down and cut the tow ropes.  We'll reach Japan within an hour, make our way to Tokyo and send a tip to Interpol," Jimin nodded along as he recounted the plan. "They'll pick up a fugitive they didn't even realise they were hunting. I've no strong ties to him, and you and Hana can take one of the boats and go off-grid for a while if he does decide to take you down with him."

"Can I-" Jungkook began, before cutting himself off. He let out a sigh, frustrated with himself for caring so much about what was going to happen. "Can I ride with him? In the trawler. There's just so much to-"

"Jungkook," Jimin spoke softly. "It's okay. We get it. It's fine. We'll use the lifeboat on the larger ship to retrieve you after the ropes are cut."

He was about to feign disinterest, pretend like he didn't care about saying farewell to the man he had once considered a brother - but Jimin knew him well enough to know when he was lying. 

By the time the plan was due to be implemented, everything was ready to go. 

Hana pressed what seemed to be a million kisses into Jungkook's lips, not wanting to let him go. She had a horrible feeling about this; a terrible, frightful, awful feeling.

"Go," Jungkook smiled, hiding his own panic well. "I'll see you in a bit okay? I love you."

"I love you more."

"Impossible, Han. Go," he encouraged with a smile. 

He watched as she made her way onto the boat where Jimin was waiting. With every step she took, a breath was escaping his lungs, refusing to replenish itself. He truly felt completely unable to survive without her.

At least he could be content in the fact that Hana would be the only person able to take his breath away. He didn't fear death, not in the same way that he used to.

And he didn't fear Taehyung either - but he still felt sick walking onto the trawler, confronted with someone he couldn't recognise and yet knew the face of better than most.

Like a car crash, he couldn't take his eyes off him.

He had aged in the last year, small scars marbling his skin, exposing the damage he had ensued on account of being a fucking tornado. He ripped through people's lives, tearing them from the things and the people they loved, leaving them with no choice but to follow him in the hopes of finding stability. He was a pariah.

That much was evident in the expression that greeted Jungkook as he sat with his back to the door of the cabin. Taehyung was slumped against the support pillar that ran through the centre of the ship, arms wrapped behind it and cuffed in place.

His hair was a mess, and Jungkook knew it would have been driving him insane not being able to fix it quickly with his hands. He was dressed as he always was: a white t-shirt tucked into a pair of pinstripe trousers, leather shoes giving him the appearance of someone off the rails and yet still with their shit together. Taehyung had always been a paradox, but no more than he was now. 

How Jungkook could both love and hate him in the same breath was confusing, but that's family for you. Jungkook didn't have much of that left anymore.

"So what you gonna do? Leave me to rot?" Taehyung sneered. His smile was still the same as it always had been, even if he'd lost the spark in his eyes that had once made him human. 

"That's more your forte than mine," Jungkook grimaced, looking down at Yoongi's switchblade. Hana had forced him to take it, just in case. 

There were half a dozen weapons in their Jukdo home. All of them would have been more efficient options - but none of them were embedded with the blood of their greatest and fiercest protectors. Truthfully, Jungkook needed Jin with him. 

He needed to know that he was doing the right thing; that Jin would accept his decisions and be proud of him. Of course, there was no way he could ever know for sure, but if he listened hard enough, he half thought that whispers of the sea wind sounded just like his mentor.

"You know what your issue is, Kookie?" Taehyung gritted his teeth, spitting his words out with venom. Jungkook just sat stoically, not bothering to encourage him. He knew he'd follow it up regardless. "Your issue is that you know this is all your fault. Jin's dead and it's all your fucking fault. Couldn't keep your dick in your pants and you let a Dal Pa venus-fucking-fly trap suck you."

"Do you not get bored?" Jungkook sighed, casting his eyes up to his old friend, as the switchblade made grooves in the wooden floor. "Do you not ever get sick and tired of seeking vengeance? Was Yoongi not enough?"

"Who?"

Taehyung knew exactly who Yoongi was. His ghost-white complexion and blown out lung haunted him in his sleep, blood dripping from his mouth. Sometimes he'd be so paralysed from the memory that Yoongi would lean over the side of whichever bed Tae had called home for the night and let the blood drip from his chin and land on Taehyung's cheeks with an almighty patter. 

When he woke, there would be no blood, just tears dampening his cheeks. 

Jungkook didn't dignify Taehyung with a response.

The air between them ran colder than the blood of the men who had lost their lives thanks to Taehyung's recklessness. 

It was a similarity that they shared; impulsiveness, forgetting their head, ignoring the consequences. 

Bringing the radio to his lips, Jungkook pressed down on the receiver. "Has the call to Interpol been made yet?"

He waited a moment or two for static to crackle before a sharp beep sounded. Jimin's voice buzzed through the speaker, direct and factual. "Tip won't be sent till we reach mainland Japan. Harder to trace back to us."

"Ta."

The static cut out, and it was just Jungkook and Taehyung once more. The larger vessel ahead of them was beginning to slow, and Jungkook knew that it would soon be time to cut ties. Looking at Taehyung, he pursed his lips, eyes warm with salty tears that he didn't want to let show. 

"I'm not sending the tip in," Jungkook admitted candidly after a moment or so.

Taehyung remained silent, unsure of what to make of such a statement. No tip meant no Interpol, and no Interpol meant leaving Taehyung to rot. He said he wouldn't. 

"Going back on your promises are we, Jungkook?"

"I never promised you shit, Tae."

"Your mum should have swallowed you. Pathetic excuse of a man."

"Yeah, and your dad should have taken you in the car with him when he drove into oncoming traffic, but it appears we both had failures for parents."

"Take that back you fucking asshole," Taehyung writhed, furiously trying to break the handcuffs that had him secure around the pillar in the centre of the cabin. "Take it back."

"You sound like a fucking child," Jungkook laughed softly. "It's like your brain stopped developing the second your family bit dust. You're a teenager in the body of a grown man, playing cops and robbers with real fucking bullets. You're a liability Tae. Why do you think Saffy chose me? Why do you think you were exiled to become a fucking breeder? Who respects you? Go on. Tell me."

"You don't know the meaning of respect," Taehyung spat. "You don't know what it's like to have people worship the ground you walk on."

"They're just kids, Taehyung. You're stealing them of their innocence just how you were stolen of yours. Are you proud?"

"Are you? Traitor fucking scum."

Jungkook stuck his bottom lip out in contemplation, though he didn't need to think about it. Not at all. 

He was proud, and he did know what it was like to have someone worship the ground he walked on. Telling Taehyung all that wouldn't have made a difference, though. 

"You're gonna haunt me," Jungkook eventually sighed, ignoring the way Taehyung was basically frothing at the mouth trying to fracture his cuffs open. "So at least you get that one little victory."

Getting to his feet, Jungkook strolled across the cabin, until he was just inches from Taeyhyung. His knees cracked as he crouched, elbows balancing across them, switchblade hanging between his legs.

"The fuck are you on about?" Taehyung churned, small particles of spit landing on Jungkook's skin. He wiped his face with the cuff of his white dress shirt.

"There was a time when I would have killed for you, Tae," Jungkook spoke the words fondly, ignoring his question. Admittedly, he had killed for Taehyung in the early days after the Gala - or at least, he killed as a result of him. He'd once almost even killed the love of his life. 

"Tell me," Jungkook borderline teased, resting the tip of the blade against Taehyung's chest. "Who's gonna miss you?"

Silence.

"Pick a card, any card," Jungkook goaded. "Or are you drawing a blank? No one's gonna miss you?"

"They'll come for you. If you think you can fucking do this and Hae-"

"Hae what?" Jungkook laughed, pulling his phone from his pocket and unlocking it onto his messages with Hoseok. He held the screen in front of Taehyung, burning the pixels into his retinas. "Hae Pa will come for me? Taehyung, you poor misguided soul."

JUNG (H): Saffy's willing to let you go. You just gotta get rid of the problem child first.

JEON (J): After that, I'm done? No more bullshit?

JUNG (H): No more bullshit. You have my word.

"You're done," Jungkook spoke as if facing his brother like this wasn't breaking apart the very fabric of his soul. "You'd be ripped to fucking shreds in Interpol. Problem with you Tae is that you're all balls, no spine."

Taehyung said nothing. There was no emotion to his facade and Jungkook didn't know if that made it any better or worse. 

"I loved you like a brother, Tae," Jungkook whispered, so incredibly devastated that it had to end this way. He'd already lost so much- but if he didn't do this, then he'd lose so much more. 

"If you're gonna do it," Taehyung spoke calmly for a change, despite the blade, which was already tugging through the cotton threads of his shirt at the bottom of his sternum. "Just do it, Kookie."

Permission granted, Jungkook closed his eyes. He let his body weight push the blade forward, not wanting his muscles to remember the movements that would eventually take the life of his best friend. The handle of the blade pressed into Jungkook's chest, the knife fully embedded in Tae's.

Taehyung groaned as if he'd done something as mundane as stub his toe. He went to breathe, choking back a sob that got caught in his throat. Jungkook's forehead rested on Tae's, the knife suspended between their bodies. 

He could feel the handle digging into his ribs with every pained breath that he took, knowing that he was stealing Taehyung's final ones from him. A sob began to brew in his chest, causing the knife to rattle, slicing through more of Taehyung's delicate tissue. 

"I'm so sorry," Jungkook whimpered, tears dropping from his cheeks and onto Taehyung's lap. "I'm so fucking sorry."

Falling back, Jungkook withdrew the blade as his heels hit the floor, the rest of his body following. He clasped at his throat as if a noose had been secured around it, desperately scratching at something that wasn't there. Taehyung watched Jungkook silently, a single tear falling from his left eye, trailing down his stoic face.

There was beauty to be found in the end. Taehyung knew this. He was the lucky one. Jungkook would have to live with this.

"Stop being a pussy," Taehyung mumbled, skin red hot. God he thought he'd burn before he bled to death.

Jungkook tried to stifle his cries, but he couldn't. He couldn't, he couldn't, he couldn't. Just like he couldn't scoop Tae's blood up in his hands and push it back into his chest. He couldn't put a plaster on the wound he'd made. He couldn't clean up the mess that was pooling around the fragile body of the boy he had grown up with.

"I never wanted this," Jungkook sniffed back a choking sob, pushing his body backwards with his feet, scrambling until his back was up against the cabin wall again. "I never. I never..."

Taehyung's jaw locked, nostrils flaring as he tried to time the rhythm of his heartbeat. 1, 2, 3, 4... 1, 2, 3, 4... 1, 2, 3, 4....

His chest heaved with every breath and he knew he was done for. The boat had nearly come to a standstill, and so had his chest.

"I did," Taehyung looked at Jungkook, directly. "I wanted this."

Taehyung wasn't sure if he believed himself - he just knew, somewhere, deep down, that he had dug his own grave. If Jungkook hadn't filled it in, more and more people would have fallen into it like a fucking hunters trap.

"Tae-"

"Shush."

Jungkook did as he was told, silently sobbing as he watched Taehyung grapple with the end. 

He wasn't sure how long it lasted. It felt like an eternity and a second all at once. Time had ceased to mean anything lately. Why should it start now?

Eyes stark and hollow, Taehyung stared Jungkook down. His tears had dried, and his soul had become at one with the tepid waves that were breaking around the boat.

Jungkook stared back. He just stared, and stared, unable to bring himself to do anything else.

Eventually, the trawler came to a stop. Closing his eyes, Jungkook leant the crown of his head into his shoulder blades. With a deep sigh, he stood, taking the blade with him. 

Untucking his shirt, Jungkook wiped the blade clean of Taehyung's blood. It was all over his hands, and his shirt looked like he'd done a really shit job at tie-dying, but Jungkook didn't really pay it much notice. 

The lifeboat from the larger vessel approached, Hana captaining it, having left Jimin to keep a watch over the boat that had dragged them out to the middle of the East sea. It drew into the trawlers orbit slowly, giving her plenty of time to toss Jungkook a rope to tether the boats together as he made his way across.

It wasn't until he caught the rope with a single hand did she notice the switchblade in his other hand and the sheen of fresh blood covering him. 

Eyes wide, she suppressed a gasp, watching as he wound the rope tight. He didn't look at her, not directly, instead choosing to focus on the task at hand.

"Chuck me a flare, Han," he spoke casually, though there was nothing casual about it.

She rummaged about quickly, finding the lifeboats supply of bright red flares, chucking one over to him. He didn't catch it, but he wasn't trying to. It clattered and rolled away from his feet, just out of grasp. Turning his back to retrieve it, he took a sharp inhale of breath. He hated that she had to see him like this.

Clicking the switchblade shut, Jungkook finally caught her gaze, holding it up like a white flag before tossing it across to the lifeboat. Just like he hadn't attempted to catch the flare, Hana let it clatter to the floor of the lifeboat. She nodded, silent, unsure of what to say, but wanting him to know that she was there with him.

He bit off the cap to the flare's striker, spitting it on the ground as he moved to the weathered ledge of the boat, where a strip of anti-slip tread had been secured. Pulling the flare across it like a match, he watched as the red baton hissed and began to spark up like dynamite, before tossing it into the cabin, where Taehyung's lifeless body lay slumped and defeated. 

Victory had never tasted more sour.

Still, he stood for a moment, making sure that the cabin would take the flames. They began to lap ferociously, burning a volcanic orange blaze around the small enclosure. He could feel the heat on his face, as if the flames were melting away his sins that were embedded in his flesh. 

"Kook," Hana broke him from his thoughts. "It's done."

His body remained fixed at zero, as his neck turned so that he could face Hana. His brows were knotted, teeth nibbling on his lip, devastation plaguing his whole entire being.

Putting out her hand, Hana's expression of sorrow matched his. "Please, babe. I need you here with me."

He could see the fear in her eyes, not of him, but of the flames that were taking hold of the boat he was standing on.

"I can't lose you too, Kook."

Fuck. What am I doing? Why was I still on that fucking boat? He couldn't make sense of anything. It felt like he had cement blocks strapped to the soles of his shoes.

Fuck it, she thought, swinging her legs over the side of the boat and clambering onto the burning boat. The closer to Jungkook she got, the more of his tears she could see falling. His face was a mess of blood, sweat and tears, and Hana had no idea what was his or not, and frankly, she didn't care. She didn't care for anything other than the man that stood beneath them. 

Her hand clasped his, but he was stuck, rigid, unable to move.

"Kook, c'mon," she cried, feeling the heat on her skin.

Stuck. Grounded. Cemented. 

Clasping at his jaw, with nothing left to lose other than the love of her life, Hana pulled his lips to her. She kissed him with intent, willing her love into him as if their lives depended on it. His hands wrapped around her back, pulling her body close into his. The flames raged around them, dangerously close to blocking their escape. The wooden cabin was hissing, timbers breaking as the flames ripped through the vessel. 

"We get a happy ending, Kook," Hana sobbed into his lips, knowing that it was looking less likely with every lick of a flame that threatened to scorch their dreams and burn them alive. "We get a happy fucking ending, okay?"

He sobbed back, not quite breaking the kiss, nodding into her lips.

The chains that tethered him to the boat snapped, as Hana dragged him from the wreckage and into the safety of the lifeboat.

Snatching up the switchblade, she sawed at the rope frantically, until it snapped through.

Falling back into the boat with a sob, Hana's palms rubbed against her face, smearing soot and sweat as she did so. Her shoulders hunched, body shaking, unable to process the onslaught of emotions. 

Jungkook sat, traumatised, watching it all happen but unable to do anything. He'd almost killed them both and he couldn't even bring himself to comfort her. 

"Han," his voice trembled as he tried not to cry. "Han, please, I'm so sorry."

Sobbing into her hands a little harder, Hana didn't care. She didn't care for herself. She'd have let the boat eat her alive if it meant keeping him safe. Wiping her eyes on the backs of her hands, Hana crawled across the base of the boat to where Jungkook's body had slumped in defeat. Curling up in his lap, she cradled him tightly. 

Neither of them spoke. They just cried. Her weak lips pressed feeble kisses into his temple, as if she were trying to kiss his brain better. It was futile, but what else could she do?

"You're fucking stupid," she eventually said, not meaning to be mean, but unable to formulate anything that didn't sound angry. She had just been so scared.

"I know, I know," he wrapped his arms around her protectively. "I'm sorry. I just couldn't- I- Tae. I couldn't just leave him. It was like Jin all over again, Han. I couldn't-"

"Shh, shush," Hana tried to soothe him. She didn't want to understand, but she also completely could. She knew what losing Jin and Yoongi had done to the pair of them. "It's okay, it's okay," she smoothed her hands against his hair. "It's okay. We're okay."

There was a sudden jolt, and then slowly the lifeboat began to move, thanks to the tethering rig it was attached to that led to the main boat. Jimin had watched it all unfold from the deck, jaw to the floor. For a moment, he had thought that was it. He thought he was going to have to watch them die. 

Not again, Jimin had all but yelled, stripping down to his underwear as he had poised himself to jump into the East fucking Sea to try and save them. He'd almost done it, until he finally saw their bodies tumble onto the lifeboat. They were gonna be paying his therapy bills. It wasn't up for debate.

He was ready to launch into a tirade, but when he saw the state of their soot-covered bodies and Jungkook's blood-soaked shirt, he decided against it.

"I'll alter our course," he spoke softly, watching as Jungkook sat down on the decked area just below the cabin, dragging Hana onto his lap. He held her with such a tight grip that Jimin thought he'd never let go again. 

"Where to?" Hana glanced up towards Jimin, her voice shaky but stable. 

As if they were one and the same, Jungkook's eyes had risen too. It was written in them, the tales of tragedy he'd just had to endure, wide and watery for all to see. No matter how much Jimin could have beaten him up for the stunt he'd just pulled, he knew that Jungkook would have been beating himself up even more.

"Home?" Jimin suggested. There was to be no Interpol call, not now that the fugitive they were planning on grassing up was burning red hot in the middle of the ocean. Therefore, in turn, they didn't need to be anywhere but home. 

The boat would have disintegrated within an hour or so, the rubble of Taehyungs body sinking to the ocean floor. He'd forever be trapped by the currents dictated by the moon. A lifetime of hell, for him.

Jungkook pursed his lips together and nodded. Pulling Hana's fingers to his lips, he pressed a tender kiss into them, all too aware of how lucky he was to indulge in such a simple pleasure.

"Let's go home."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A looming peace this morning with it brings.
The sun, for new dawns, will surely show his head.
Go forth, and have no more of these sad things.
Some have been pardoned, and some punished.
For never was a story of more hope
Than this of Juliet and her Romeo.

☆☆☆☆☆

A/N: Sorry tae x
The ending lines are the end of Shakespeare's Romeo and juliet with alterations made to suit this ending as opposed to the OG one. I wouldn't call this a happy ending, but it's... something??

I fell asleep like 3 times editing this so have most likely missed stuff lol, but I'm too eager to upload it x

Hope you didn't hate it lol okay, bye x