"Has it been 24 hours yet?"

"Nope."

One hour later.

"How about now, has it been 24 hours?"

Jimin's mother shakes her head, freeing strands of dark hair from her low bun. She squeezes her son's hand in reproach, yet can't wipe the endearing smile off of her lips. Jimin's father sits passed out in a hospital chair next to her, his soft snores a calm conduit of his restful slumber.

"No, Jiminie. Not yet. You have your phone, why don't you just call him?" She glances at the dark black phone that lays across his lap. He's been swiping mindlessly through images of his boyfriend, heart aching to see the boy in the wheelchair. To apologize for bringing this upon him and his family.

"Because, you can't rush love." Jimin says, pouting at the lovely mother he grew up with...who was such a comfort when it came to telling his story about Yoon Gyuri.

He went through an entire box of tissues as he retold the story of the last four years to both of his parents, crying along with his mother as she shook her head angrily next to him. Jimin's father was irate at the fact that this girl had taken advantage of him for years.

'I can't believe it had to end like this.' His father said, the gravity of the situation erasing his normally aloof countenance in the blink of an eye. 'That monster--that excuse of a human being deserved to rot in prison...to pay for her wrongs. Death was too gentle a justice for her...I'm so sorry you had to suffer through that, Jimin...'

"You said it yourself, you can't rush love! So why do you keep asking me if it's been 24 hours? We both know it hasn't even been twelve yet." Jimin's mother thumbs over to her husband, whose snores are almost funny with how timed they are to Jimin's heart rate monitor. "And all of your asking bored your father to sleep."

"Sorrrryyyy...not sorry." Jimin plays with his mother's fingers, so glad to finally see her again. Ever since he left Busan for Seoul, he's been kind of neglectful in visiting his family...going back home always reminded him of Gyuri. He couldn't even look at his own bed without being disgusted in a far-off, post-abuse kind of way. But now that Gyuri's gone, he doesn't always have to look behind his back. 

Like a bird, he is now free. Getting through all the Pluto Rooms up until this point were worth it--every graphic, obstacle, tear, and stab. He can't help but feel like he finished a marathon, sitting in the hospital bed and staring at his parents. He not only told them about Gyuri, but came out officially, by telling them about Jungkook in full--about their close relationship. 

Neither of his parents were surprised. They always knew he wasn't entirely straight. His mother clapped for him, grinning warmly and asking all the quirky questions about Jungkook's personality, sun sign, favorite foods, looks, preferred weather, fashion taste, and rate of complimenting.

'Don't worry, Mom.' Jimin had told her after two hours of describing the boy and all of his unique idiosyncrasies. 'I think Jungkook compliments me too much. He's truly the sweetest boy...I think you'll love him and...well. I think he's the ONE.'

"Just so you know, Hon, we packed enough things to stay at your duplex for a week to be with you. Is that okay...? Otherwise, if Hoseok doesn't want us bombarding the duplex with unfunny jokes and strawberry cakes, we can always stay at a hotel-"

"No, Mom! Of course I want you to stay with me." Jimin giggles, feeling like a six year old boy all over again. The nights where him and his mother would play dress up--him dressed in feather-fluffy scarves and sparkly tiaras (his mother never denied his requests for the girlish clothing...she agreed with him that they made him look fab) where they would run around in their makeshift kingdoms, hosting tea parties with tiny ceramic glasses and cute-cut chocolate chip cookies. A deep guilt from avoiding his parents for the last few years eats at his chest, but seeing them clears it away. "Since you'll be over, can we host more tea parties like we used to?"

Jimin's mother swipes a thumb under his purple bangs, flicking them to the side. "Yes, we can make that work. Do you have tea cups or should I run to the mall to purchase new ones?"

"Oh, you don't have to buy-"

"New ones it is!" Jimin's mother points to his hair. "Also, you need a haircut and recoloring while we're up in Seoul. I'll treat you to a salon trip! We can make it a mother-son appointment, since I could use some touch-ups to my roots." She motions to the centimeter or so of salt-and-pepper strands of hair that poke through her scalp. 

"Even without touch-ups, you're still glamorous, Mom. I didn't get it from just any one."

 "Even without prompting, you're still great at people-pleasing, Jiminie!" 

Jimin snorts, shaking his head. His throat hurts a lot less from when he first came back to life, after countless bouts of coughing and downing glass after glass of water. "I mean it! I feel bad I haven't gone to see you guys more. I should have when I was down in Busan to see Jungkook, but-"

"It's alright, Hon." Jimin's mother sighs, tilting her head to the side. "Everybody makes mistakes. Everybody has regrets. But you shouldn't' linger on them. Now that it's over with--that the horrible girl has stopped threatening you for good--you should move on. Take this as a new breath of air...a fresh start."

Jimin takes in the words, letting them sink in. After full digestion, the words mean more to him than a simple lift-me-up. No, these words don't just boost his mood, but inject him with a new motivation. Somewhere in the hollow of his mind, he yanks forth an idea that he's been dwelling on with everything that's been happening these last few weeks. The idea takes shape in his mind, rolling around in the front of his brain for a few moments before it spills from his lips.

"I want to go back to college." Jimin starts, feeling oddly empowered once the idea is out in the hospital air. His mother seems pleased, nodding at the idea.

"That's great, Jimin! Is this to finish your communications-"

"For acting!" A wide grin splits his face, making him look even younger despite the dark circles under his eyes and the paleness that has lingered in his body since almost dying. "I want to be an actor."

His mother seems more than a little surprised. Her mouth makes an 'o' before she squints her eyes to deeply consider something. "An actor? Is this because of that drama Gyuri blackmailed you into doing? Did you enjoy playing different roles or something? What brought this on?"

"I...I just realized that I'm really good at acting. Not saying this to brag, but the director of that movie always said I was a natural. He told me with a little work, I could become an actual star...and I feel like I can do it. After almost dying, I feel like I can do anything without being scared." 

Where is the old Park Jimin? That's right, dead. He's long gone, world! WOOOO! I'm going to become an actor, no matter who tries to change my mind.

A reflective light flashes in Jimin's determined gaze, now bent on two objectives: Become an actor and-

"And I want to move back to Busan. I want to move in with Jungkook...go to university in my hometown. I miss Busan."

"What about Busan?" Somewhere in Jimin's explanation, his father blinked awake. Now he sits, tall and attentive. "Did you say you're thinking of moving back?"

Jimin nods, smiling at his dad. "Yep. I definitely want to. After the court case regarding the Yoon Family is over with, I want to move back home."

.

The hours swim by so slowly that Jimin feels like he's in a level of Perilation. A slow-paced snail level that forces him to count every millisecond four times out loud before it can pass by. One that tells him he has to count sheep before his boyfriend can be allowed into the room, except the sheep are half-invisible and they take up all of South Korea's grasslands. By the time two hours remain, he's so impatient that he's considering escaping his hospital bed and sneaking away to Jungkook.

It's not like they can stop him...plus, he can just improvise...say he got lost because he was confused. Or he can pull the 'I had a nightmare and wasn't sure where I was, so I decided to roam the halls to help me clarify my location' card.

By then, his parents have left for the hospital food court to get breakfast (it's morning, but Jimin has stayed up the entire night in expectation of seeing his boyfriend--and his phone battery died after watching hours of Red Velvet group dances on repeat to pass the time) so he is left to his own devices for entertainment. 

For the last thirty minutes, he's been devising his plan of sneaking out with his father's hat over his head to hide his purple-hair, imagining everything that could go wrong.

Nah, nothing can go wrong. Literally, I died yesterday and came back to life. Everything in this realm is easy money, and I'm pretty sure I'm untouchable.

That's what Jimin tells himself as he disconnects his IVs from his wrist, skimming over the bed with his brows pinched in determination. His father's dark navy museum tourist hat, which honestly, isn't Jimin's style at all, gets placed over his messy violet locks. He rolls up the sleeves of his hospital gown to make the ill-fitting article less obvious and digs around in the mini duffel bag his mother set by the door.

Thankfully, Jimin's father packed some pants for changing into at night. They're about three sizes too large for Jimin's waist, but he makes do by rolling up the waistband until the sweatpants fit snuggly over his plump backside. Mmmm. Comfy. I'm sure Jungkook won't even recognize me dressed like this. I look like a hammered pizza delivery guy who is color-blind.

He giggles to himself, his hands clammy with nerves. Not only is he breaking doctor's orders, but he's having fun doing it. With his new mentality of viewing any less than optimal situation as a game level to beat, nothing seems impossible. He scoots over to the door handle, lightly skims his hand over it, realizes he has no shoes on, and quickly dips his hand back into his mother's duffel.

"Neon green Puma flip flops that are way too small for me! Just my luck."

Jimin slips them on his feet, ignoring the pain under the bandages covering his torso as he bends down. Once dressed in his unbeatable disguise, Jimin poses at the wall for good luck. What boredom does to the brain...

With a shit-eating smirk on his pale lips, he cracks the hospital door open. On the other side, it's relatively quiet. A few distant footfalls, a door closing...then nothing. He quickly slips out of the room at the onset of silence, peeking left and right before crossing the hall like a felon escaping prison. There's only one felon in this hospital...and it's my lovely boyfriend. That shop-lifter! 

"Haha!" A bubble of laughter nearly costs him his hiding spot in plain sight. A man dressed in a dark black uniform walks into an adjoining hallway, almost turning to look at him when he laughs. Quickly, he rushes forward, the slap slap slap of his mother's emergency flip flops helping him in no way. 

Shit...was that guy a police man? Damn...are they...protecting...oh! They're probably here to guard Junghyun's door. I bet Sperosity asked them too, since Junghyun is a key witness in this investigation. Well I am too, but where are my policemen? Probably eating doughnuts and discussing weather patterns with my parents. Oh well.

A few more steps and the same officer flashes into his vision again. This time, Jimin flattens himself against the wall, hoping that the man doesn't turn to study the hallway closely. If he would, then he'd see a sickly dude wearing a baseball cap, a white billowing shirt, sweatpants that bunch up tastelessly at the waist and flip-flops that hardly support his feet. 

The man pauses, scratches his back, and moves on. Jimin cheers, patting himself on the head. In this level of Perilation, he has to avoid getting spotted by these guards, else they'll return him back to his room. He must be sneaky...must use his skills of blending in to venture successfully to his cooped up boyfriend's room.

Shit...which room is he in? Satan's quarters! Why didn't I think of this...I'm so dumb. I can't just go knocking on random doors and opening them up! What if I open on some elderly guy doing yoga naked or something? Ewww, Jimin, get that image out of your head!

"...........morning! Mrs. Park, I brought..........still not able?...........Thea came too!"

HOSEOK!

Jimin frantically tip-toes (and fails, his flip flops twisting sideways on his feet, bunching into his loose sweatpants) towards the source of his sunshine roommate. Hoseok's voice appears to be coming from the same sector of the hallway where the cop was before...this might be dangerous.

"..........yeah! We thought he'd love yellow tulips..."

Jimin smiles at his friend's thoughtfulness, peering around the edge of the wall into the suspicious hallway. The same policeman from before is standing only a few feet away, facing away from him. On impulse, Jimin sucks in a breath and jerks back. After a few moments of catching his breath...that was close...he peeks around the wall again to see Hoseok and his mother chatting by the vending machines. That's funny...where is Thea? Isn't she-

"Jimin?" 

A yelp leaves his sore throat as he hops around, meeting Thea's worried gaze. Hoseok's girlfriend is holding a bouquet of yellow tulips to her chest, staring his outfit up and down. "Jimin, what are you-"

"SHHH!!!" He quiets her down rather loudly, cursing himself for not being quiet when he was trying to make someone else quiet. "BE QUI--ehm, be quiet."

Thea blinks. Then, a silly grin rolls onto her face, her high cheekbones lighting up at his behavior. "Are you...you aren't supposed to be here, are you? You should be in bed...and....and look at that outfit!"

She points and laughs, the tulips bouncing against her shoulder. Jimin rolls his eyes, adjusting his hat over his determined eyes to hide his embarrassment. "Yeah. So? It's my disguise...I gotta find Jungkook. Do you know what room he's in?" 

Thea lifts a brow, peering over his shoulder at Hoseok down the hall. "Jimin, I don't think-"

"Tell me." Jimin speaks with authority, pointing at the bouquet in her hand. "Otherwise I won't accept the flowers Hobi got for me and he'll be all upset."

Thea glances down at the tulips, at Hoseok down the hall, and then at Jimin in the ugly baseball cap. She relents, snickering to herself as she nods her head as an okay. "Jungkook's in room 253 and Junghyun's in the room right next to him."

"Wonderful!" Jimin snatches the tulips away from her, his face glowing with enlightenment. Then, very slowly, it drops to realization. "Ohhh...wait. 253? That's..."

"Right by that policeman." Thea finishes for him, her hands still left open and empty from the quick snatch of flowers from her grip.

"Ughhhh! What am I supposed to do now--wait a sec. Thea! You're perfect!"

"I am?" The girl adjusts her high ponytail, crossing her arms. "Did Hoseok tell you to say that to me if you wanted me to do something?"

"What? No...but that sounds like something he would do." Jimin watches as Thea's eye-crinkle melts into amusement, staring at her boyfriend all the way down the hall. Damn...she's really whipped for Hobi. I'm happy for him.

"Buuuut...I guess I'll help you since Hobi would do the same, Thick Stuff."

Jimin blushes--hearing it from Hoseok and Jungkook's lips is one thing, but from this Pilates instructor, the one who has to watch his thickness during the moves they do in class-

"Okay, that's just weird." Jimin pauses to think, scratching at an itchy bandage on his stomach. "That's like me calling you Shorts or something, cuz you're short and it's suggestive."

"I am not short! I'm-"

"Fun-sized. Right. The excuse all short people use. You know, I've never been one to be ashamed of my height. If you accept your lack of vertical extension early on in the process-"

"Jimin." Thea closes her eyes in exasperation. "You are not my therapist! You are an escapee, and I'm your unlawful accomplice. Now let's get you to Jungkook."

A burst of the purest appreciation for this fiery Pilates instructor fills Jimin's lungs with fresh air. He smiles at her brightly, winking and finger-gunning down at her face. "Your Korean is really good, you know. How do you know all those words?"

Thea shrugs. "I date Hobi, and his dad's a literature teacher...I pick up all my sayings from him...also, when you get the chance, ask Hoseok about the English words I taught him."

"Swears?" Jimin smells the tulips in his grasp. They smell amazing, a gentle summer breeze of sugar and lollipops. Suddenly he gets a craving for soda-flavored suckers. "I bet you taught him the worst swears."

"Nope." Thea smiles, now watching the policeman down the hall more carefully. "I helped him memorize the first verse of Rap God by Eminem, and told him what all the words meant. Hobi's a natural at rapping...I don't know why he's never tried it before."

"Oh, he's tried it." Jimin thinks back to all their random, impromptu house concerts where they'd both get drunk and sing Kpop hits. Hoseok always nailed the rap and dance parts while Jimin focused more on belting out chords and getting into character of the lead visual. "Hobi's naturally good at a lot of things. Like helping distract a police officer with his bright charm."

Thea licks her lips and holds out a fist, which Jimin promptly bumps with his knuckles. 

"You're right on that count."

.

Jimin opens door 253 with his heart in his throat. Somewhere down the hall, Hoseok loudly drones on about the biochemistry behind pharmaceuticals and how they help heal people in modern medicine. What a smart dude. He's definitely going to get his degree back and kick ass at studying the chemical composition of organisms.

As Jimin enters the mostly dark room, he figures Jungkook might be still sleeping. It is, in fact, still morning, and the younger probably needs rest after getting beat up by thugs. Just thinking about it hurts Jimin. He was never told how the Jeon Family got out of the situation...how they managed to escape, but he hopes his boyfriend will let him know.

He quietly he creeps into Jungkook's room with his hands out in front of him. He feels like a blind mouse trying to find a block of cheese, except this cheese is so much more important than just cheddar or mozzarella. It's Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook--the Pluto97 to his Melonaju.

A few steps into the abysmal room, Jimin trips over something. He reaches blindly for the ground as the object clatters onto its side. The breath is forced from Jimin's lungs as his stomach bears the brunt of the fall.

"Mmm...gghh..." Jungkook groans sleepily, an annoyed sound in the dark. Jimin smiles at the noise while his injuries scream in pain, his head swimming from the fall. 

Jimin truly is an idiot, falling harshly onto the floor in his already fragile state, but he'd do anything for the boy on his bed, even get hurt. Jungkook means the world to him--and ever since his close run-in with the Grim Reaper, Jimin knows that he never wants to almost let go of his boyfriend again.

As his eyes adjust, he realizes that the object he tripped over was a folded Patrick. Jimin instantly feels sorry, his arms reaching out for the wheelchair to right it again. He must be close to Jungkook's bed, since he can hear steady breathing very close by. I can kind of see the bed...and--oh my God!! JUNGKOOK!

Jimin stands up straight, gasping as his eyes make out the silhouette of a boy laying on his back. He can see that there's some kind of bandage covering the bridge of Jungkook's nose. It must be for the broken bone...which can only mean that Jungkook got punched in the face somewhere in the tussle with Gyuri's thugs. Jimin feels a pang of anger fill his heart, and then sadness. He steps closer to the bed, reaching out for Jungkook.

"Oh, your nose...my poor-"

"Not today, punk!"

A violent arm snatches Jimin's wrist, fingernails digging into his flesh as his arm is twisted backwards. He releases a loud cry of pain, at which his arm is let free from its intrusive grip. Jungkook gasps, then stutters out incomprehensible noises of sorrow, then gasps again. Jimin collapses next to the bed, holding his shoulder and whimpering.

"MELONBOY?!"

Jimin feels hands tapping the top of his head curiously, trying to find him. He's quick to reach up and remove the baseball cap so that Jungkook can feel his hair, know it's him. 

"Y-yes." Jimin groans as he stands, his body now achy all over from falling and getting assaulted by his defensive partner. "Why did you..."

"I...I thought..." Jungkook's silhouette sits up straight, beckoning him over to the bed with a wispy hand. Jimin sits down, listening carefully to the sleepy drag of Jungkook's consonants. "I thought you were one of Gyuri's men again. I just saw your hat, your baggy clothes, and thought..."

A silence in the room. Why isn't he talking?

Finally, the air shifts, changing to something electrically joyous. Jungkook grabs Jimin's hand in his own, pulling their bodies together in the darkness. Before Jimin knows it, the younger is sniffling into his shoulder...then sobbing loudly. Jimin lets his own tears go as his boyfriend cries, containing his happiness, sadness, and relief that all their pains are over.

"J-Jimin...Park lovely Jimin..." Jungkook sobs, his finger tips digging into Jimin's upper back, sliding over his baggy hospital gown as if he's trying to ascertain the elder's existence. "...a-are you...real?"

"Yes." Jimin inhales the soapy scent that lingers in Jungkook's warm neck, which he's flooding with tears. Jungkook's arms around him make him feel so safe and loved, even if they're in the dark. Even if they're in a hospital...even if they're not supposed to be meeting right now. "I'm real, Kook...I'm real."

Jungkook sob-laughs, a choked sound of sad amusement. "H-hi, R-Real. I'm Jung...J-Jung-"

A fresh wave of tears hits the younger before he can finish, sucking in a lungful of air that explodes outward in whooping sobs against Jimin's chest. Jimin holds the boy tight to his body, paying attention to their strong heartbeats as they remain crying for quite awhile. 

"You're my Jungkook. My Pluto in this...fucked up solar system." Jimin presses a tearful kiss into the younger's neck, nuzzling his nose under Jungkook's jaw. "I love you so much, Jungkook...did you know?"

Jungkook exhales shakily into his hair, lips brushing against the shell of Jimin's ear. "I do know...but I love you more."

"I love you most."

"I love you moster."

"I love you mostest." Jimin giggles into a teary neck, now becoming aware of Jungkook's legs moving casually from side to side on the bed sheets. 

"I love soup." Jungkook breathes, kissing Jimin's cheek over and over. "I really love soup."

Jimin snickers, his cheeks burning up at the way Jungkook's teeth graze lightly over his tear-streaked cheeks. 

"And I really fucking love candy canes."

.._. ._.. .. .__.

.._. ._.. ___ .__.

.._. ._.. .. .__.