** briefly edited (it's 2am ^^;  actually cry with me) **

"Don't you think it's a little dark? I'll turn on a light switch. A new passage another chance. Do you want to go with me to the end of this maze...?"

~Switch-NCT127

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yoongi walked down the streets, going back to Namjoon and Jin's apartment. He'd dropped Kyung-mi back at her house first, since she was more than probably lost by herself, and he wasn't that much of a bitch just yet to let her try and find her way home by herself and die on the way.

He held his cheek, not in pain, but just feeling it, right where Kyung-mi had kissed him, and closing his eyes every once in a while, remembering the moment and trying to recreate the feeling.

When he did, it made it tingle a little, like a small fire running up his spine. Whatever she had done had ignited a flame inside him, and he couldn't explain it or what it was.

With a sigh, he let his hand drop down off his face limply, putting his hands in his pockets and looking up. The cut he'd gotten in his leg was pretty much healed, but it had left him with a sort of walk that almost looked like he was doing it on purpose and it was to show some kind of swag or something, but all in all, it was really just a faint limp.

I'll always remember this, won't I? All of this. It's unforgettable, and I wish I could forget.

He was walking down a back way, not wanting to deal with too many people, even though it was still early and it wasn't likely he'd run into anyone.

Then there was a click.

He paused, looking in the direction of the click, something small, minuscule, otherwise unimportant like the tick of a grandfather clock. But he still turned toward it, tilting his head and frowning.

"Hey, whoever's there better get their asses out, not in the mood today, okay?" He said, then waited for a response from the dark corner.

A wind-chime blew in the wind, but otherwise, there was no movement, no answer, just silence. But he watched for an extra few seconds anyway.

He inhaled, chewing his lip for a moment. Then he decided that he'd probably just heard some stray cat stepping on a twig or something and turned back to where he was heading.

It happened so fast he didn't know what it was at first.

His vision went from seeing the world, to seeing nothing but black, but the confusion was only for a second, as he felt his feet being picked up, and realized the black was cloth, and there were rough hands on his legs and arms, gripping tight, squeezing him almost, picking him up....

Someone's taking me... someone's kidnapping me! I'm being kidnapped! Fuck! Shit!

He kicked and arched his back turning his head back and forth to try to get them to let go. They held tight, as much as he wiggled and arched his body mid-air, there was almost nothing he could do, they were carrying him off, running away with him, and there was nothing he could do. As much as he twisted and fought, and yelled 'Fuck you!!', none of it helped him. He was helpless.

Panic set in, it stopped being words coming out of his mouth, and just screams that were at first just anger, but were now edging into fear. Where are they taking me? Why are they taking me? What did I do? What are they going to make me do?

Why can no one hear me screaming?

Why is no one coming to help me....

I sound like I'm dying, why is no one coming to help me...

Horrible flashbacks came back, and his breathing and heart-rate soared. The black space was as good as having his eyes closed, he saw what he didn't want to, he saw his mom coming toward him with her bat, or her belt, or whatever else that was in the house that she could use.

Then the real panic set in. It didn't matter if his eyes were closed or open, he could imagine it, and with each breath, the panic got deeper, as if a boa constrictor was coiling around him tight, each beat of his heart sounded like a bass drum in his ears, sped up to a rate he didn't think his heart could go.

He felt himself being lowered, into or onto what, he didn't know, but he struggled harder, kicking with all his strength, twisting his body so far it hurt.

His lips parted, at first he thought, to throw up, but then nothing happened, and they dropped him on what felt like ground, and he landed on something hard, right in the side of his ribs.

His mouth seemed to lock open, in shock, in fear, in a silent scream, a painful gasp the only sound coming out for a while as they lifted him back up.

Finally something broke in him, a mental wall that he couldn't understand why he had. In his head it sounded like crackling, like a fire coming to life, like glass breaking, like cold ice hitting a glass of water.There you are, Min Yoongi. Found you again.

"Help!! Someone please, help!!!" He screamed so loud, his throat felt raw and his voice came out cracking and scared. Because I am scared, I'm not fearless, I'm human, I don't have to be fearless..

He felt himself grabbed, different hands this time, smaller hands, and these were taking the bag off his head--really yanking, roughly. And the people holding him once again dropped him.

This time he could see, and he caught a glimpse of the people trying to take him. Two men with leather jackets and blue jeans, their entire faces hidden by motorcycle helmets, their hands hidden by leather bikers gloves.

Before he knew what was happening, he was pulled up and pulled away, hitting the ground running almost.

"You're a lot of trouble, I thought I was done with you, jesus!"

Yoongi was looking back as their pursuers, but when he heard the voice he turned forward, "J-Jungkook...!"

"Oh, no, it's Winnie the Pooh! No kidding!" He said breathlessly as they ran, Jungkook taking sharp sudden turns to try to lose the men pursuing them.

They were bigger, actually a lot bigger, Jungkook was closer in height than Yoongi to them, but they were still taller, and they took big steps, getting closer to Yoongi who was somewhat slower than Jungkook was at running. They would get so close they'd almost grabbed his shirt, but then Jungkook would take an unexpected turn, and Yoongi would just miss getting grabbed as he took the turn after him.

Yoongi only knew that because he felt the displacement of air as they reached, Jungkook was the only one who could afford to look back to check, and every time he did, his eyes were wide. They're too close. They're getting closer.

"Shit...!" Jungkook breathed, obviously getting tired, but rounding another corner and still running, breathless, his jacket starting to fall off his shoulders.

Yoongi was starting to run out of energy too, the only thing pushing him forward was the will to not get caught, not get kidnapped, not be a victim. God, his feet hurt, his legs hurt--each footfall on the concrete was like a long, torturous needle going though his foot and up through his legs to stab him in the hips.

Jungkook looked back again, this time looking confused, "Wait...! Wait...! Stop....!" He said, stopping suddenly in front of him.

Yoongi wasn't prepared to stop, and ran right into him knocking him into a trash can left on the street to be picked up, making not only Jungkook fall, but the bin along with all the horrible smelling garbage in it.

By the time Yoongi fell, as much as he couldn't stand being so close to Jungkook, he couldn't get up. His body refused to let him back up, he was spent.

"Wh...why a...are we st...stopping?" Yoongi asked, out of breath, barely able to lift his face off of what he discovered was Jungkook's chest.

"Th...they disappeared..." Jungkook replied breathlessly, looking out behind Yoongi frantically. "Th-they're gone..." Jungkook said, more in disbelief than relief.

"W...well....where....the hell....did they go?"

"Nowhere...Anywhere....I don't understand...."

"Because....you're not....making....fucking....sense...!"

Jungkook pushed Yoongi off of him, not exactly rough, but not incredibly kind either, and pointed out toward where they came from, "Look...! Yoongi, that last turn, they grabbed for you, I'm sure of it...! That was the last turnoff, what did they do, turn around and go back...? They would have had us both in a second why turn around? Where did they go?"

Where did they go? 

He felt his heart race. It didn't feel right, it left like an empty pit in his stomach, a bad taste in his mouth, something bad and strange. The silence was not just quiet, it was something that sapped any regular noise and made it muted and distant.

Mom did this? My mother did this? She sent these people after me? Why...? This isn't her.

It can't be her...she needn't go so far.

"Ey, yo, vanilla cream?" Jungkook said, waving his hand in front of Yoongi's face, "You wanna wake up and maybe get off of me? Just because I'm gay doesn't mean I enjoy this."

Yoongi got up fast, his legs still sore, but mostly tolerable, "Yeah, well, I'm not exactly wanting to feel you up or anything, bunnyteeth."

Jungkook scoffed, "Yeah, I'm not Kyung-mi, so that's not a surprise, jerk-pants." he said, starting to walk away.

Yoongi squinted at him, leave Kyung-mi out of it, what do you know??  Was what he wanted to say, but instead followed him and said, "Jerk-pants? Really? Fucking 'Jerk-pants'? Are you 4 years old?"

"Your pants look like the type jerks wear. Dirty, ragged, full of stains." Jungkook said, squinting back, ice in his voice, "I only helped you because I have a thing you wouldn't know about called, 'compassion'. You should try it on more than just Kyung-mi."

"Ya-a-ah, How the hell old are you? You use the worst lame-ass comebacks. You even a man yet? Boy?"

"More man than you."

"Prove it, bunnyteeth."

They spent a minute, glaring at each other, breathing hard, the air tense as if a punch was going to be thrown at any second, and Yoongi was going to make damn sure he hit first.

"Ugh.....ew....." Jungkook said, then sniffed his shirt and made a retching sound. "Ugh, we smell horrible... I can't go home like this."

Yoongi rolled his eyes. Pansy.

"Hey, I saved your life possibly, and I didn't have to, okay, Yoongi? Least you could do is find a place where we can clean all this garbage off." Jungkook said matter-of-factly.

Yoongi rolled his eyes at Jungkook. "I don't need to find a place. I know where."

Yoongi wouldn't admit it, but he was thankful, Jungkook really had possibly saved his life. From what? He didn't know. But he was almost certain....this wasn't his mother doing this--at least not alone. She dated thugs, drunkards, worthless bastards, but there was something that didn't sit right.

If they were going to take him--if they were centimeters away--why did they stop? It wasn't because Jungkook showed up, it wasn't because there were police, Yoongi couldn't see cameras anywhere. If they were aiming for ambush, a perfect opportunity had passed while they both had their guard down fighting each other.

Who are you? What's your goal?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N:

GUUUUUURRLL, I STAYED UP SO LATE TO FINISH THIS FOR YALL, PLEASE GIVE ME A PAT ON THE BACK EVEN THOUGH ITS A WEEK LATE- I'M TRYING REALLY HARD >~<

Last week I was advised i was stressing updating too much?? and I mean, I was. I was having a mini panic attack because it was LaTeEeE and MY WORST FEAR IS BEING LATE, i'M NOT EVEN KIDDING (  / ~;)

but y'all........comment+vote so I get insfired-

INFIRES MAAAN!

~Neri~