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Dog vs Cat ||BTS


Cat and dog

Drama / Romance
Age Rating:


God, where the fuck was he again?

Mathan looked around the dive he was sitting at and tried to remember what country he was in. Africa? South America? Some shithole in Asia? He was going to need to check the passport he was currently using to find out.

'And what fucking time was it again?' he thought, blinking blurry eyes at the watch on his wrist. Maybe it was time to go to bed or at least time to stop drinking.

“My dear son," a voice to his left sniffed. "Why am I not surprised to see you in such a place?”

The voice coming from his side was one that Mathan had really hoped he would never have to hear again. And if dear old dad had managed to track him down to wherever he was, then he wanted something from him and Mathan had no fucking intention of giving it to Dorian Foley.

“Whatever it is…the answer is no. Whatever you want from me…the answer is fuck NO. So, it hasn’t been a pleasure running into you here, and I would like to get back to my drinking, thank you.”

Mathan waved a hand at the man behind the bar, who could have been from any one of the countries that he thought he might be in. He nodded at the man as a drink was set before him, groaning inwardly when he saw that the old man had not taken the hint and left. A man could not get quietly drunk in whatever country he was in without family coming and fucking everything up. He really needed to learn to hide better.

Sighing Mathan twisted around to look at Dorian and growled, “If I listen to you and then tell you fuck no, will you go away?”

"Son, I am here to offer you the opportunity to make a great deal of money. A simple snatch and pay that will net you enough money to retire to some South Sea island with a couple of native girls. It will be a few weeks at the most and after that, you never have to see my face again, if you want." Dorian leaned against the bar giving Mathan a cocky look.

“I don’t want to see your face now. So spill, and then I can tell you no and you can go the fuck away.” He upended the drink, savored the burn and waited for dear old dad to vomit out the evil scheme running around in his brain.

Instead, Dorian Foley laid a photo face down on the bar and pushed it to Mathan.

Turning it over Mathan cast a wary eye to the man. It was a glossy photo of seven young Asian men who looked like performers of some kind. Mathan had to admit they were all quite attractive but failed to see what they had to do with the old man’s plan. Unless…

“Am I supposed to know who they are?” He questioned.

Dorian grinned at Mathan as he answered. “They are your ticket to more money than you can spend in a lifetime. A South Korean group called Bangtan Sonyeondan... They are gaining a lot of international notice; their company will be willing to pay a great deal of money to get them back unharmed.”

Mathan latched onto a single word because he didn't give a shit about the money. Dorian Foley had no clue about the secret bank accounts that he had stashed all over the world. He could retire to that South Sea island right now if he wanted to.

“Really? Unharmed?” he asked, the tone of his voice enough to convey his lack of faith in his father.

Dorian waved a hand at Mathan.

“Of course! They will never see our faces or hear our real voices. Contact kept to a minimum. Like I said, a few weeks at the most for them. And they won’t give us any trouble, they’re a bunch of soft pretty boy singers from Korea.”

Mathan wondered why he was still listening to the old man as his eyes glanced down at the photo in his hand. He kept going back to one face in the group, something about it spoke eldest to him although he wasn’t a fan of the bleach blond hair...somehow it didn’t suit the face of this…angel.

He only partially heard what his father was saying until his ears caught the name, Carl.

“Oh, fuck no!” Mathan barked out harshly. “You can’t have your brother on a crew like that, especially if there are attractive young men involved. Or have you forgotten what happened with Aaron?”

Dorian smiled to himself as he hooked the fish that he wanted. As badass and as scary as Mathan was, he had a soft spot for those he saw as needing protection. And with Carl as part of the crew, who had a known weakness for young and beautiful men, Dorian ensured that his son would volunteer to be part of this mission.

The elder Foley smiled in triumph as Mathan did just what he knew he would.

Exhaling harshly and wishing he were a lot less drunk because he would have told the old man 'fuck no' then, Mathan spoke, certain that he was damning himself.

“Fine... I’m in. But you keep Carl on a tight leash. And I’m out on the actual snatch. I’ll handle surveillance and get the compound ready, because I am guessing that is where you want to hold them, right?”

"It is, son. And I promise nothing will go wrong."

Looking at the picture again Mathan had a sudden chill run down his spine. Something was telling him that his life was about to change forever. Whether it would be good or bad, Mathan could not have said. The only thing that he was certain of was that the angel in the picture was going to play a major part in it.

Part One

Chapter Summary


Chapter Notes

T/N: KOREAN VOCABULARY LESSON!!! WOOHOO!!!!! Here are the new words we used this chapter!

Terms of Endearment :

 Jagiya: means honey, sweetie, love, or darling. It is used between couples (normally younger couples as the older generations do not use this phrase) in a relationship to address each other. These couples can be either married or unmarried and the term can be used to address both women and men.

 Chagiyah: literally means "self", so you are literally calling the other person as yourself, therefore, implying that the other person is your self, your other half, your soulmate, etc.

 Saranghae/Saranghaeyo: Different forms of ‘I love you' based on the level of speech (formal vs. informal)

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Part One

The evening was quiet; the only sound in the van was the excited whispers of the men who hoped that this job would make them rich enough to never work another day in their lives. The plan was simple; grab the group as they came out of the nearby building and collect a huge payday. The leader, who was sitting behind the wheel of the van, turned to the others.

“Make sure the tranq guns are ready. I don’t want any of them slipping through our fingers. Our people on the street will take care of any staff with the targets, so make sure you take out your assigned target and get them in the van post haste, understood?”

The seven men nodded as they pulled tranq guns out and checked them again.

“I am so ready for this session to be over with!” Jimin exclaimed as he flopped onto the studio couch, putting his head in Jin’s lap and throwing his legs over the armrest. He held his phone up snapping a quick picture of Jin and himself and loaded it to the group’s social media page. He couldn’t help but laugh as comments started pouring in seconds later.

The five members of BTS were all waiting for the last two members to finish recording the final parts of their latest song so they could get a bite to eat and head home.

“You know Taehyung is a perfectionist when it comes to his singing, Jimin-ah. You hoping isn’t going to make him go any faster.” Yoongi’s calm voice answered back. His gaze never moved from the control board where he and Namjoon were listening to Taehyung’s playback.

Namjoon hit the mic button and spoke, “Taehyung that was perfect. The bass note on the last line was what we were looking for.” He leaned back and waved as Tae gave him the thumbs up and pulled the headphones from his head. He could see Taehyung moving towards the door of the recording booth and knew that Hoseok would be waiting for him on the other side, having recorded his part before his band-mate.

“Yes! Now we can get some pizzas and head home.”

Jungkook moved away from the wall he was leaning against and grabbed the hand Jimin was holding out to him.

“You shouldn’t have flopped onto the couch like that if you couldn’t get yourself up.”

He laughed as Jin reared up and pushed Jimin’s head off his lap. As Jungkook helped Jimin up the last two members, Taehyung and Hoseok, came into the control booth arguing over what kind of pizza they should get.

“I want spicy peppers!” Hoseok yelled as he bounced into the room, Taehyung behind him.

“I want American style, Hoseokie, and it’s my turn to pick!”

Jin laughed from his spot on the couch, giving the members an indulgent smile as they all groaned. The rest knew that Taehyung and Hoseok would argue back and forth over pizza toppings until they ordered. Of course, by then the eldest member of the group would make sure that each had their own pizza with whatever toppings they wanted, but it was fun to watch Hoseok beg and plead with them to get his way.

Chapter End Notes

The youtube links are songs we felt fit the mood of the chapter, and we included them for your enjoyment.


Part Two

Chapter Summary


Part Two

In the van, the leader’s radio suddenly crackled to life, the voice tinny, but loud enough for the rest to hear.

“Targets on the move. Only two staff members with them. We’ll take them out once the targets clear the door. ETA one minute.” The leader waved to the rest of the team in the van, sending them into motion. “Remember, no harm to the targets. Put them down and get them into the van.”

The team of seven filed out of the van on the street side, making sure to keep their weapons low on their sides, out of sight of any bystanders who might happen to pass them on the street. Not that it was likely as it was after midnight and the streets in this area of Seoul were quiet. Thanks to some reconnaissance, the team had intel that the targets would be working late at this small studio. A few well-placed threats and the information on the location of the studio, the timetable for the targets, as well as any building security the team might encounter had been theirs.

The seven men watched the K-pop group BTS walk out of the glass doors leading to the street. Unseen by the seven young men, two shadows moved inside the building, grabbing and subduing the two staff members who had not yet followed the group out of the studio doors. In the space of mere seconds - a blink of the eye - the seven darkly dressed men raised their weapons and fired on their specific targets. The members of BTS had no time to react except with a surprised gasp as the drugs took swift effect and they each dropped to the street. Moving quickly and silently, each of the seven men picked up a limp body, shouldering their burdens with ease and moving as one to the van’s open doors.

The men placed zip ties on wrists and ankles in a blur, moving at a frenzied pace that was frighteningly precise. They blindfolded and gagged each BTS member, expertly securing them, rendering them immobile as they had done to others countless times before. The drugs would keep them unconscious for several hours; long enough for them to be transported to a secure airstrip, loaded onto a private plane, and flown out of the country before the authorities were even contacted.

The leader smiled at the thought of the money these young men would bring them. Their company would be willing to pay any amount to get this golden goose returned to them unharmed. All they had to do was follow the plan carefully and make sure that nothing unforeseen happened. If the hostages didn’t give them any trouble they would be back to their lives in a few weeks, none the worse for wear.

“Good work,” the leader said approvingly. “Now that we have secured the targets and made them our hostages, we will meet up with the others at the airstrip and be on our way. Remember, once we get them to the location and secured, we will make the announcement of our demands and payment.” The masked man pulled up their departure information on his laptop as he continued. “Always remember to wear your synthesizers and masks when dealing with the hostages. I want a totally clean getaway,” he said with a laugh as he glanced back at the pile of unconscious young men on the van’s floorboard. “I don’t want to have to hurt or kill one of these boys.”

The dark van raced silently into the night carrying BTS away from their lives, their families, and their fans.

Part Three

Chapter Summary


Part Three

The building that housed Big Hit Entertainment was on total lockdown. A squad of police had been there since the early hours of the morning and it was now evening. The media was starting to take notice as several reporters arrived with local television news crews.

Inside the office of the CEO, Bang Si-hyuk, also known far and wide as Hitman Bang, was pacing in front of Senior Police Officer, Park Hyun-Shik. He stopped as the officer asked, “Have you received any demands yet?”

The anger that passed over his face was quickly hidden as Hitman struggled for calm in what was becoming a nightmare situation.

“I know only what I have told you. Two of my staff members informed me that they were attacked at the recording studio late last night and witnessed all the members of BTS being kidnapped. They had been restrained and were only able to escape this morning. Once I arrived here and had them tell me everything that had happened, I called you. All of the staff who are here now have been told to stay near the phones and report every call that comes in to me.”

The CEO resumed pacing in front of the policeman as thoughts tumbled over and over in his mind. What kind of nightmare had they stepped into? He already had his staff get in touch with the families of BTS and arranged to have them brought to a secret location in Seoul before any reporters could get to them. P-Dogg, Bang Si-hyuk’s right hand man, had taken care of all the details once they realized how serious the situation was.

The officer’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Do not worry, Bang Si-Hyuk-ssi. The order has gone through the highest levels to block all routes out of the city, including train stations and airports.”

Both men were startled when a staff member burst into the office telling them to turn on the television.

The leader of Big Hit Entertainment turned on the large wall TV and wanted to throw the remote at it. A news anchor stood in front of a picture featuring the members of BTS while in large letters the headline screamed: BTS KIDNAPPED! RANSOM DEMAND TO BE DELIVERED ON THE INTERNET IN ONE HOUR! NO CONFIRMATION FROM BIG HIT ENTERTAINMENT.

“This news station received an anonymous email containing images of the BTS members bound and gagged in what appeared to be a large truck or van,” the anchor said. To Hitman, she sounded as if she were speaking underwater. “The email also stated that the members were unhurt and would remain so as long as the perpetrator’s demands were met. Also contained within the email was the information that the kidnappers’ ransom demand would be released to the Internet at exactly 8:30 P.M KST.”

The news anchor’s voice cut like glass. Both men looked at the clock on the wall; it read 7:45 P.M.

Park Hyun-Shik moved to the office door, yelling at a fellow officer to get men over to the television station and get that email. All Hitman could do was slump into the nearest chair and fold his hands together in prayer.

Part Four

Chapter Summary


Part Four

[Unknown Location USA]

The building was modern, yet aged. A steel and concrete box at the end of a long dirt road set back in the wilderness. The property was owned by no one the world had ever heard of and that was the way they liked it. The men who had planned this mission had taken great pains to cover their tracks. The building was owned by a shell company that was owned by another, and that one by another, and so on. If someone were looking it would take them months, even years, to untangle the web these men had created to keep themselves hidden from the world. They had always lived on the darker side of humanity and thought nothing of preying on the weakness of others. If it made them money, then that was all Dorian and his ilk cared about. And this mission was all set to net them millions. After this, they could call it a day and go their separate ways with enough money to disappear completely and live the life of luxury.

When they had first started planning this mission, there had been no specific target. It wasn’t until recently that one of the team members had hit upon the idea of taking the South Korean singing group. They had read an article about the international fame BTS had garnered and the growing revenue coming into the company that managed them. Their large international fan base had given the kidnappers the idea to use the fans and the public to create confusion and hinder any searches by the police. ARMY, indeed. The leader intended to make the ransom demand public knowledge, hence the precautions the team had taken to remain hidden.

When the team arrived at the secure location, the leader directed the men to place their still unconscious hostages in the large common room that had been prepared for BTS. The room contained seven beds, an oversized table surrounded by chairs that were bolted to the floor, as well as two fully functioning bathrooms with a shower, toilet and sink. In the corner was a full kitchenette and refrigerator, and although there was nothing there that could be used as a weapon, it was fully stocked with fresh food and beverages. Surprisingly, there was also a fully stocked closet full of clothes, sizes having been guessed at by watching videos of the group.

The leader and the two men with him were alerted to their guests awakening by a groan coming from the bed nearest them.

Part Five

Chapter Summary


Chapter Notes

T/N: KOREAN VOCABULARY LESSON!!! WOOHOO!!!!! Here are the new words we used this chapter!

 Halmoni: grandmother

Part Five

Jungkook’s rise to awareness came slowly, at first with confusion as the last memories of walking out of the studio filtered in, then with growing panic when he realized that he could neither see nor speak, and his hands and feet were tied together.

Jungkook’s heart stopped, then raced with growing fear as an alien-sounding voice spoke in a language that he had heard before but could not understand.

“Gentlemen of BTS, you will be our guests for a while. As long as you cooperate with us and cause no trouble, you will be treated well and returned home in no time. I am aware that most of you are limited with English but there is one who can understand and speak fluently. I am sure that he can and will translate for us as we communicate a few simple rules.”

The strange voice moved closer to Jungkook and he couldn’t stop his body from shrinking away. He also couldn’t contain a muffled shout when he felt a metal object at his wrists as his hands were freed followed by his feet. Instinct had him reaching for the gag over his mouth, but a gloved hand wrapped itself around his trembling fingers.

“Your leader, Kim Namjoon, has had his gag removed and will translate what I have just said, as well as this order,” the voice commanded, pace slowed so that his instructions were clear. “Your restraints will be removed. Leave the blindfolds on until you hear the door close. Please be aware that everything you do within this room is being recorded and translated. The bathrooms are only under a microphone - that’s all the privacy you'll get around here, gentlemen.”

The pause almost drove Jungkook crazy, but then the voice of his leader, his hyung, filled his ears.

“Don’t move,” Namjoon said, his voice tense as he tried to convey the urgency of the situation. “These…keep your blindfolds on. And stay quiet. I’ll help you when--”

“Hyung!” Jungkook called out in fear around his gag, earning him a violent strike across the face for the disobedience.

“Interrupting your hosts already?” the American voice asked, sounding amused.

“Jungkookie?” Namjoon inquired, his voice trembling with the nausea he felt at having failed his team - his youngest member - already.

Jungkook did not dare make a sound from where he had fallen aside, barely bracing himself in time to prevent any further damage. He could not have heard, above the ringing in his ears, the soft whimper that fell from his lips as he saw stars from the impact to his skull, his cheek stinging from where something metallic had cut him. He didn’t even know he had uttered a sound at all.

It was Jungkook’s pitiful admission of pain that had all of his brothers moving for him at once. Namjoon - having ripped his blindfold off - could see his maknae curled in on himself in pain, one hand pressed against his cheek and the other to his head. He was on his way to him when he was checked by a shoulder, causing his feet to fly out from underneath him as the ground rushed up to impact his head.

Jimin, who had stumbled with bound legs and blinded eyes tripped over the crumpled mass of his leader and fell to the ground with his own groan of pain.

Hoseok was apprehended mid-step and thrown to his knees, a crack echoing through the room as he hit the concrete hard.

Only Taehyung among them had been able to successfully follow Jungkook’s painful song. For as long as he could remember Jungkook’s voice had called to him, even when he hadn’t been able to call Jungkook his. With hands outstretched, he blindly found the boy as his hands swiped through the air, his voice desperate and low as he called his name.

“No one else move!” One of their captors roared. “The next one who moves gets a bullet to the head!”

“Everyone stop!” Namjoon hissed. “Just…stay still. Jungkookie…he’ll be okay. Just…no one move.”

All around them the air was tense as the remaining members froze in fear, each of their emotions permeating the atmosphere.

“They’re going to untie our hands and feet,” Namjoon said tersely as he translated their instructions. “Do not move until they are gone. I…let me come and help you…we’ll figure it out.”

The foreign voice said nothing else as the remaining five felt the pressure on their wrists and ankles lessen as their captors circled the room cutting the bindings that held them immobile.

“That’s right. Be good boys for us and you won’t get hurt,” the voice said as he left the room, “at least not too badly.” The laughter in his voice sent chills down the boys’ spines.

Even after they heard the steel door slam shut, they still sat in silence; the only sound in the room was Jungkook’s labored breathing as he battled with the pain in his head.

“They’re gone,” Namjoon breathed a moment later as he made his way towards Jungkook, “We’re okay.”

At the sound of their leader’s words, the others ripped the cloth from over their eyes and out of their mouths. Taehyung’s hands immediately hovered over Jungkook as his eyes scanned the boy for any wounds before he pulled him into his arms. Taehyung held Jungkook tight, forgetting for the moment that he did not care for him in this way anymore - or at least that he was not supposed to - as he tried to pass his former lover strength through his caring embrace.

All around them their brothers sat in silence - almost as if all sound had been sucked from the room - only Jungkook’s heavy breathing laced with the most vulnerable keening Taehyung had ever heard, and the sound of his own voice saying Jungkook’s name over and over. He only realized he was crying when he saw his tears glistening in Jungkook’s hair. And just like that the world came back to him, brutal and mean.

Jimin was at Jungkook’s side, touching him, cooing over him, comforting him. Taehyung realized he was in Jimin’s way and so he let go, wanting desperately to share the burden rather than relinquish it. He hesitated, for how long he didn’t know... five, ten seconds too long? Jimin didn’t say anything, didn’t give any indication that he should move at all. He just moved next to Taehyung, falling instep as they were so used to doing. But Taehyung knew he shouldn’t be there - he knew that wasn’t his place anymore.

When he finally pulled himself Taehyung was met with Yoongi’s gaze, which had turned as cold and as hard as deadly, black ice.

Jungkook could only blink tearfully against the bright overhead light, wincing at the pain in his head as he clung to the boy that could be his lover.

Hoseok remained on the floor, his body held up by his forearms as he took a couple of calming breaths, Namjoon rubbing his back and pulling him close as he tried to detect any injury.

Jin was up exploring the room, knocking on walls as he searched for hidden doors.

It was clear to all of them now the very real danger they were in. The strongest one among them had been laid out before their proverbial eyes, too addled and scared to move or to speak. If they could decommission the maknae so easily, how quickly could their captors annihilate them all?

“Namjoon-hyung, what is happening?” Jungkook asked, his satoori threatening to take over the polished gyeonggi-do he had forced himself to master when he came to Seoul, in his fear.

Tears rolled down his face as he watched his family start to move together. Jimin still held Jungkook close as he comforted him the best he could, while Namjoon pulled Hoseok to the table and tried to calm him down. Jin immediately grabbed Taehyung off of the floor, casting a confused glance at Yoongi, who stood in the middle of the room. Yoongi stayed alone, disconnected, as he tried to gauge his feelings at seeing his person run not to him, but to the man he supposedly no longer loved.

Yoongi felt like he was coming apart and he wondered if the others could see. His mind snapped into action, making a show of patting his pockets in search of a smoke, creating a diversion away from the emotion that threatened to spill over onto his face and out of his mouth. Yoongi growled low when he came up empty. Even his wallet and cellphone were gone.

The youngest members question to their leader was forgotten for the moment as they all checked pants pockets, then with hands felt their necks and ears. Sure enough all the jewelry that Jungkook had been wearing at the studio was gone and a search of his pockets confirmed that both his wallet and phone were missing. This sent his fear into overdrive as reality began to really sink in. They had been kidnapped and taken to some unknown place by unknown people and their lives were in real danger.

“I don’t know, Jungkookie,” Namjoon said, his voice tired, as he gestured around the room. “All I know is that this is real and that we have to try and stay calm. Whoever these men are, they have planned this well. We can’t afford to make mistakes or…” Namjoon let his voice trail off, thought unfinished. As he looked into the eyes of his brothers, he knew he didn’t need to say any more about what might happen to them. They knew. They understood. “We will do exactly as they say and hope that they are telling the truth about letting us go.”

Namjoon stood then and walked over to Yoongi, grabbing him in a fierce hug.

“If the opportunity to escape comes…we will take it!” Namjoon growled, low enough so only Yoongi could hear.

Namjoon could already see his brothers seams starting to fray and he worried that captivity would be the feather that tipped the man’s scales. Yoongi had always held himself so carefully in the balance of sanity and Namjoon knew being caged like an animal would be the switch that would flip to hurt Yoongi…to hurt them all.

Part Six

Chapter Summary


Chapter Notes


T/N: KOREAN VOCABULARY LESSON!!! WOOHOO!!!!! Here are the new words we used this chapter!

 Nae sa-rang: ‘my love’

 Hangsang: ‘always’

Part Six

The man in the control room watched the seven young men on the television screen wander around the room they had been placed in. Their movements were jerky and slow, and their bodies still showed the effects of the drug used on them. He observed them as they searched every corner of their quarters as if they could find a way out, but there were no windows and only a single steel door that locked from the outside.

His eyes followed one young man in particular. From the moment he had been given the task of following, watching, and learning about this group he had found his thoughts turning to the youngest of them. His beauty was breathtaking to behold, and it was as if he had been created by a master artist. He had never allowed his emotions to interfere in his work before but there was something about this young man that fired his blood. For the moment he would wait, watch for the perfect time, and then strike. When the money was paid they would all go their separate ways and he intended to make sure that he was taking something else with him…one Jeon Jungkook.

His eyes followed one young man in particular. From the moment he had been given the task of following, watching, and learning about this group he had found his thoughts turning to the youngest of them. His beauty was breathtaking to behold, and it was as if he had been created by a master artist. He had never allowed his emotions to interfere in his work before but there was something about this young man that fired his blood. For the moment he would wait, watch for the perfect time, and then strike. When the money was paid they would all go their separate ways and he intended to make sure that he was taking something else with him… one Jeon Jungkook.

In a move that surprised the other members, Yoongi yanked his arm away from Taehyung, pulling out of the shared embrace. He moved around the room in angry strides, growling and cursing under his breath, his emotions roiling, bubbling just under the surface - threatening to boil over. All eyes turned toward Yoongi as he spiraled into a hell burning in his own head. Taehyung reached for him but Yoongi swatted his hand away, the sound of skin slapping skin sounding harsh in the otherwise silent room. Jimin reached out as well, concern coloring his face almost gray. He had never seen his hyung in such a state. Icy eyes, as cold as marbles stared back at Jimin - Jimin who always had a smile for his brothers, Jimin who made the sour guilt in his stomach roil.

Yoongi hated himself for the way he was acting, but he couldn’t stop.

This was his greatest fear, being contained, caged like an animal, and he could feel the panic beginning to set in. The air in the room was getting thinner and he was finding it harder and harder to take in a full breath. There was a primal scream building inside him and he wasn’t sure he could keep from breaking loose and tearing him apart in the process.

Before the scream poured from his throat, arms wrapped around his chest from behind. Taehyung’s deep, calm voice whispered, “ Breathe, nae sa-rang. I’m here with you. I won’t ever let you go.”

Taehyung said the words by rote, singing them almost as he held Yoongi close. His eyes were closed as he spoke, repeating the words over and over like a mantra. It was what he should do at that moment, what he was expected to do. Yoongi was upset so it was Taehyung’s job to fix it. Yoongi needed something, so it was Taehyung’s job to provide it. He was there, always there - Taehyung was nothing if not good at his job. But what the words he spoke truly meant had nothing to do with the situation at hand. Taehyung was just good at calling up the right thing to say at the right time.

The last time he had uttered those words had been a happy occasion, one that was forever burned into his memory. His arms encircled another whose chest heaved under his touch much like Yoongi’s did now, only Taehyung pressed open mouthed kisses to the skin of his neck, to his temple, into his sweaty hair in response. ‘ Breathe, nae sa-rang. I’m here with you. I won’t ever let you go,’ he had said and he meant it; even if it was a promise he couldn’t physically keep, his heart had never faltered. His lover was shaking, out of breath, wrecked in the most wonderful of ways. Taehyung could feel his heart beating wildly in his chest as he finished, keening and moaning mixing with the deep, guttural expressions of raw emotion that Taehyung lived for. The man in his arms had asked Taehyung if he loved him then and Taehyung nodded his reply, turning his lover’s chin to kiss him deeply, fervently as if his whole life depended upon the touch of their lips, the play of their tongues. He whispered the word that was written on his soul, a word that he would mean for the rest of his days,


Now the words spilled from his mouth, spoken out of obligation through clenched teeth, heavy with the truth of the past and the hypocrisy of the present.

Yoongi scratched at Taehyung, unaware that his fingernails were cutting into the forearms of the other. But Yoongi’s actions didn't stop the soft whisper that escaped Taehyung’s lips.

" Never… ”

The gasp coming from the others alerted Taehyung and Yoongi that their captors had returned.

All three men who entered the room were dressed completely in black from head to toe, with no skin visible. All of their faces were covered by white expressionless masks that allowed only the eyes to be seen. Before any of the members of BTS could react, one of the kidnappers stepped up, grabbed Jungkook by the back of his neck and dragged him away from the others. Namjoon started to rush forward to protect the maknae but he found himself facing very deadly looking guns.

Part Seven

Chapter Summary


Part Seven

When he felt the hand grab his neck, Jungkook’s first reaction was to struggle but the same inner voice from before warned him not to fight. He found himself pulled against a much larger male form as the hand moved from the back of his neck to encircle his throat. The feel of cold leather against his skin sent fear coursing through Jungkook’s veins and his stomach threatened to empty the bile rising in his chest to the floor. His eyes locked onto Jimin’s and the sudden rage he saw on his face calmed him enough to settle down.

The same alien sounding voice spoke from one of the men holding a gun on his brothers and Jungkook’s heart threatened to pound itself out of his chest.

“I see that you gentleman had some time to look around your accommodations, so now I will explain how things are going to work while you are here.”

Jungkook’s breath caught in his throat, not from the English words that he only half understood but from the man pressing himself tighter against him. It felt as if the mask was moving slightly back and forth against the back of Jungkook’s head. Was this person nuzzling him?

The bile that had settled now started to rise again in his throat and fear brought tears to his eyes.

He could tell from the other's body language that Jimin had seen what the kidnapper holding him was doing and wanted to rush forward. Licking his lips, Jungkook shook his head slightly at Jimin and took a calming breath. The alien voice began speaking again, pulling Jungkook’s focus away from Jimin’s face.

"You have both food and clothes here; cooking utensils will be provided at mealtimes, and a strict count of them will be kept. Clothes that need cleaning should be piled by the door and will be returned after washing. Razors for shaving will be provided upon request and returned to the guard when done." The man speaking moved forward, all the while keeping his gun trained on the members of BTS. "Other personal hygiene items are in the bathroom for your use. I suggest that you gentleman not attempt anything stupid as that would force us to punish you."

The man then turned and nodded to the guard holding Jungkook.

There was no time to brace himself or react as Jungkook found himself spun around. The guard struck, swiftly punching him once in the stomach, then across his already tender jaw, making the maknae wonder - not for the first time - whether bones had been broken. As Jungkook hit the floor and lost consciousness he could have sworn that he heard the man whisper, “Sorry baby.”

As if nothing had happened, the guards calmly turned and walked out of the room as the members of BTS screamed out for their youngest member.

“JUNGKOOK-AH……” Taehyung cried out, his arm extended in the younger man's direction as Jimin cried out too, falling to his knees next to Jungkook.

Without thinking, Jimin scooped Jungkook into his arms, rocking back and forth. He could feel the others wrapping themselves around the two of them but his one thought was that someone was going to die for this. Jungkook had always been so unfailingly kind and protective of him - loving, understanding, accepting. His affection hit differently; a touch or look from Jungkook still managed to give Jimin pause. While Jungkook had loved him in ways he had never imagined possible, Jimin had done his very best to reciprocate, helping him with his covers, practicing English with him, even taking an interest in the games he liked, especially after they had been betrayed and ignored by the one they both loved. He only had to ignore the fact that he was now being held by the one their hearts called out for, Taehyung pressed firmly against him. So very close.

Jungkook leaned up and no longer caring who was watching, took Jimin’s face gently into his hands, pressing his lips to Jimin’s forehead in a reassuring kiss.

“I’m alright,” Jungkook whispered. “We will survive this. And we’ll all go home together.”

The rage flowing through his body was like liquid fire. He watched the camera feed as the two young men huddled together on the bed; the others having drifted away to sit at the table in the middle of the room. He did have the presence of mind to focus the kitchen microphone on the five at the table as his rage-filled gaze watched Jimin tenderly caress the jaw he had struck less than a half an hour ago.

“Jungkook-ah, are you really okay?”

Jimin couldn’t tear his eyes from the bruise he could see forming on Jungkook’s jaw. The sight of his best friend, one of the only people who could keep him grounded, one of only two who had ever owned his heart, hurt and bruised, was more than he could handle. Everything from the past day was flooding into his system and he felt his body shutting down. All Jimin wanted to do was close his eyes, and let the world fade away.

Part Eight

Chapter Summary


Chapter Notes

A HUGE thank you to user Chibiboge for their kind words and out first review! It made my heart sing! I am working as quickly as possible to upload everything that we already have written and we hope to have a chapter at least every other day!

Part Eight

At 8:30 PM KST it seemed as if the whole of South Korea was holding its breath. The news had spread to international news sites as well as social media and fan sites. All forms of communication were being stretched to the limit of technology as hundreds of thousands of people, both fans and news reporters alike, flooded them seeking information.

The signal started small, somewhere in the dark web. It quickly picked up speed, bypassing this firewall and that security system before finally crashing onto the public web. It had the impact of a small nuclear bomb when it went across the news services, quickly being picked up by international news sites and finally hitting the world with devastating force.

The ransom demand was a video. It started out shakily, the night vision lens picking up the bodies of BTS as they lay in a vehicle. It was clear that all the boys were unconscious, and the camera panned around showing the ties on their hands and feet.

The screen went dark for 30 seconds and then a shadowy figure stepped into view. There was nothing in the room that gave even the smallest hint as to where it was being filmed. The figure kept itself in the safety of the shadows, giving no details as to whether it was male or female, its size or what it might weigh. When it spoke, some of the people watching wondered if the being was even human. The language being spoken was English but in no way did it sound human. It sounded robotic; translations scrolling across the screen as the figure spoke.

“We are holding the South Korean group, BTS, hostage. At this time they are alive and unharmed, but whether they are to stay that way is entirely up to Big Hit Entertainment. We are asking for 10 million U.S. dollars to be delivered to us in one month’s time. We will contact Big Hit Entertainment the day before the deadline with our final instructions for the delivery of the money and the return of BTS.”

The figure moved slightly, seeming to grow a little in size. The robotic words, for all their expressionless tone and flat delivery, still managed to convey a deadly intent with the next words.

“We have eyes and ears everywhere, and if at any time we feel the police or any law enforcement agency is close, we will send you pieces of those boys’ bodies.”

Before the screen went black there was one last sight of the unconscious group, only this time each had a gun pointed at their heads.

Part Nine

Chapter Summary


Chapter Notes

T/N: KOREAN VOCABULARY LESSON!!! WOOHOO!!!!! Here are the new words we used this chapter!

 Jinjeonghae: Calm down

 Mianhae: Sorry

 bogo sipda: (literally) ‘I want to see you’, or ‘I miss you’

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Part Nine

As far as they could tell they had been trapped in that one room for almost two weeks. The members of BTS had learned to gauge time by the meals they were told to cook every day. But even that could have been a lie as there was no radio or television allowed to them to check if it was morning or afternoon. The first day had been a nightmare none of them had processed until the next day. The third day they had all curled into one another and tried to stay numb to keep their minds and emotions in check. Day four most of them had managed to sleep, and day five they danced and practiced themselves into exhaustion as they prayed this nightmare would end.

Sleep offered only a brief escape from the prison they found themselves in and the tension was growing with every minute that passed. Jin had attempted to keep them occupied by insisting that they continue to practice their music and dance routines, and for a while, it gave them something to focus on and a sense of normalcy, however slight. But all things break in the end…even Bangtan Sonyeondan…

“Yoongi-hyung! Please stop!” Taehyung begged as his lover pulled more of the clothes from the closet and threw them to the floor. Shirts and pants flew around them like leaves in a raging storm.

Both Jimin and Jungkook rose startled from the restless sleep they had fallen into.

“What is this fucking shit!” Yoongi yelled as he pulled more from the closet and threw it into the air. “How long are they going to keep us here!”

“Yoongi!” Jin hissed from his bed, scrambling toward the man in a crouch, looking around the room reflexively, suddenly feeling exposed. “Stop now!” he ordered without much sting.

Yoongi continued to rage, oblivious to his brothers’ attempts to stop him. He didn’t hear Taehyung calling his name, didn’t see the confusion on Jungkook’s face, didn’t hear Jimin’s mantra whispered like a prayer, begging him to calm down (jinjeonghae…jinjeonghae…jinjeonghae…). All Yoongi could do was see red.

Spotting one of the cameras over the only door in the room, Yoongi grabbed a shirt and tossed it over the camera’s body. He was tired of constantly feeling eyes on him, watching everything they did. He had been used to it from fans, it was a part of the life he had chosen as a member of BTS, but this was wrong. Yoongi felt like a zoo animal locked in a cage and now he wanted to throw himself against the bars and rebel.

It was less than a minute before the door burst open, metal clanking loudly in the room as five guards rushed in. Two of them grabbed Yoongi and started dragging him towards the door and out of the room. When Taehyung reached out for Yoongi, he was violently pushed back; it was only Jin catching him that kept him from landing on the floor. Hoseok and Namjoon both moved as if to come to Yoongi’s aid but were stopped by guns pointed directly into their faces. The last thing Yoongi saw as the door closed between him and his family was the terrified looks on the faces he cherished.

They wept - they couldn’t help it.

Jin and Taehyung made their way to the nearest bed. In a flash, both Jimin and Jungkook were on either side of Taehyung, forgetting themselves and taking up the positions they were accustomed to, the only thoughts in their minds to soothe their Taehyungie… to protect him. Wrapping him in a tight embrace,Jungkook and Jimin acted as one to console him, whispering words in his ear and against his neck that the others could not hear. After a while, when Taehyung’s tears stopped and he had fallen asleep between the two men he called home, Jin tiptoed over to the bed upon which they lay. What he heard wouldn’t register to him, not right away. Later, the memory would make him cry out in despair, the pain he felt for his dongsaengs too great to keep inside. But in that moment he only saw Taehyung’s lips working while he slept, only heard his rich baritone straining, pulling, catching as he uttered so desperately, “Mianhae, chagiyah. B-bogo sipda. Saranghae, saranghae…”

Namjoon stared helplessly at the door, then rushed it and started banging his fists against the steel frame. Hoseok quickly wrapped tight arms around his boyfriend to stop him from hurting himself in his rage.

“Namjoon-ah,” Hoseok said softly so that only his love could hear. “It’s okay, Namjoon-ah. I’m here. You…you’ll be okay.”

Namjoon hung his head as he set his jaw, the pieces of his quickly fracturing mind at war with each other as he fought to keep the monster of rage contained.

“Breathe with me,” Hoseok said, his lips to Namjoon’s ear as he held him tight, warm arms trying desperately to ground the man he loved, and feared.

Hoseok had seen Namjoon lose his temper - his very self - once. It wasn’t something that he wished to witness again.

With a deflating sigh Namjoon caged his demons once more as he collapsed to the ground, another tally of his failures marked as tears fell from his eyes.

The two guards dragged a struggling Yoongi into a small room containing only a cot. He was thrown onto that cot cursing them both in Korean and Japanese. The rage overtaking him was making him reckless in the face of overwhelming danger, but he could not stop himself.

“Motherfuckers!!!! I am going to gut every one of you!!!”

He made as if to get up from his prone position, but something penetrated the wall of his rage, turning it to bone chilling fear. It was the laughter. One spoke with that odd robotic voice and Yoongi understood enough of the English to know that he had put himself into a nightmare that he wasn’t going to escape from.

“This one is pretty when he’s mad but that mouth of his. I think we should find something more fun for him to do with it.”

Yoongi’s eyes widen in horror as one stepped towards him while unbuckling his pants. The other just laughed as he pulled the door closed, plunging the room into total darkness.

After that the only sounds heard in the hallway were Yoongi’s anguished and pain filled screams.

Chapter End Notes


Part Ten

Chapter Summary


Part Ten

The six members of BTS sat around the table picking at the food they had been forced to prepare under the watchful eyes of four guards. None could really stomach the idea of eating but the one guard who spoke made it clear that they would not leave until the food was cooked and eaten. To comply, Jin had made a simple rice dish with beef strips.

A part of them was missing. In the hours since Yoongi had been dragged from the room, each member had begged and apologized to the camera over the door. All of them at once had bowed on the floor, foreheads pressed to the cold tile promising complete obedience to whatever the captors demanded if their brother would only be returned to them.

Suddenly one of the guards came to attention and moved to the door, pulling it open to show two more guards dragging in an unconscious Yoongi. Taehyung screamed his lover’s name as the others jumped from the table and rushed to their fallen brother.

It was only Namjoon who heard and understood the laughing comments made by the guards who had dragged Yoongi in.

“That was one sweet piece of ass,” the bulkier of the two said. “Makes me hope that him or one of the others mouths off again.”

The sound of Taehyung's weeping was what pulled Yoongi from the quiet darkness he was struggling to hold on to. No matter how many times Yoongi had scoffed at Taehyung’s abundance of emotions, not once had he been able to resist their pull. He knew that, no matter how unfairly he had won him over, or the measures he had used, Yoongi had forced Taehyung in to his arms, and away from the ones who had been capable of loving him right.

'Please, Taehyung-ah,' his groggy mind thought. 'I cannot comfort you... I cannot even stay with you. I cannot bring myself to taint you so…’

He hadn’t realized that the words reverberating in his head had translated into a snarl towards his precious Taehyung-ah; nor that the very thoughts he had entertained had already happened when he had stolen Taehyung away.

Taehyung could only look at the man he cared for - loved in some kind of way - in confusion, unaware of what happened. Never in his worst nightmare would he think that Yoongi - the mentally strongest among them - would cave to anything he might endure. Then again, none of them could ever begin to know the fear, to understand the kinds of things these monsters were capable of, for they had never met any like them. Months from now they would understand pain, but here and now, they only knew of broken hearts and bandaged knees, not shattered souls and splintered minds.

“Yeon-in?” Taehyung asked as he approached, causing Yoongi to shrink away.

Yoongi had to bite his lip to keep his screams at bay, tasting his own blood as his teeth broke skin. Everything was on fire. Those monsters had washed him off with a hose and changed his clothes, but they had not allowed him to sink into the true oblivion he wanted. Slowly pushing himself up onto all fours, he closed his eyes to keep the tears in and bit his lip harder to keep a sob from escaping. Realizing that his brothers were there, he knew that Namjoon had probably heard, and understood what had happened.

“Don’t,” he growled, harsher than he had meant to when Taehyung reached out for him. “Don’t touch me.”

Taehyung recoiled like he had been hit and looked at his family in horror and confusion.

Jimin looked at Yoongi in surprise that turned to sad understanding as the knowledge that his brother was forever changed set in, though he knew not how. He closed his mouth, which had dropped open as reality overtook him and raised his eyes to Taehyung, silently consoling his best friend.

Namjoon could not meet any of their eyes as the truth of what had happened finally dawned in his own mind.

Forcing himself up, Yoongi stumbled towards the beds, falling into the table and collapsing onto his knees again. He let out a hiss and a string of expletives as he crawled on his hands and knees the rest of the way, not caring how weak it made him seem. He managed to pull himself onto the closest bed and pulled the blankets around him like a cocoon, making sure that no part of his body was visible to the others. When he was sure that the others could not see him, Min Yoongi gave in to the tears and begged the darkness to take him again.

The monster that Namjoon had kept chained away for so long came to the surface, but it stayed quiet…cold and quiet. Hoseok considered his lover as confusion addled his mind. He felt Namjoon’s whole body go stiff under his hand. When he looked into Namjoon’s face, Hoseok gasped at what he saw. He wasn’t sure who he was looking at, but it wasn’t Kim Namjoon.

Namjoon walked toward Jin, pulling him aside and instructing him to pack up the uneaten food and place it in the fridge, telling him that he and Hoseok should clean up the dishes and return them to their captors. Jin looked at Namjoon in confusion before a cold look passed over his own face and he nodded. He understood. He and Namjoon had spent far too many nights getting lost in conversation for Jin to need much of an explanation. He respected his leader for his selflessness and willingness to learn, and to grow. Very early on he had promised to follow him well regardless of the fact that Namjoon was younger than him, and he had vowed to his leader to do everything in his power to make sure the others fell in line as well.

“Hobi-ya, come help me with this while Joon-ah helps Yoongi rest." Jin shot a hate-filled look at the guards in the room before moving to clear the table.

Namjoon approached Yoongi slowly, not wanting to frighten his hyung. He couldn't imagine what the elder was feeling - he only knew he had to do something to alleviate it, to commiserate with him - to be the brother Yoongi needed. Yoongi felt Namjoon's presence and did not turn toward him. He couldn't. He didn't think he would survive the look on his face.

Unknown to the members of BTS, one of the guards who had brought in the cooking utensils earlier was starting to question his role in this nightmare. The look of hate that the beautiful Jin had thrown his way was making Mathan question a great many things that were happening.

Part Eleven

Chapter Summary


Chapter Notes


T/N: KOREAN VOCABULARY LESSON!!! WOOHOO!!!!! Here are the new words we used this chapter!

• Gae-sae-kki: The Korean equivalent of "son of a bitch". Literally means offspring of a dog. As such, this is something you say to someone (primarily men) who has pissed you off.

Part Eleven

Mathan stood quietly in the back of the room as their team leader berated two of his men.

“What the fuck were you two thinking? When I said to punish them if they caused problems, I meant a few punches, kicks, maybe a broken finger or toe. At no time did I say ANY of you could rape them. Those boys are no good to us if they are so broken that they can’t be returned.” The leader growled at the stupidity these two were showing. “What about you, Mathan?”

Startled by the sound of his name, Mathan looked at their leader, a man he had the misfortune of calling Father.

“Sir?” He questioned.

“Were you a part of this?” His father demanded.

“No sir, I was not. I was in the control room monitoring the web, news sites, law enforcement, as well as fan sites and social media. Then I went to gather the utensils they needed to make dinner. It was when I got to their room that I noticed one of them was missing. I radioed and was told that the BTS member Min Yoongi had acted out and been placed in a solitary room for a few hours to quiet him down.”

Mathan managed to keep his growing contempt, not only for the men in this room but the mission as a whole, out of his voice. Mathan couldn't stop his mind from flashing on the memory of Kim Seokjin and the hate he had directed at him. The look Jin had given him had burned into Mathan as the young man had thrust the container with the cooking utensils into his chest. The beautiful young man had whispered something under his breath with such venom it burned his ears.


"It is time for me to relieve Carl in the control room if you are done with me?" Mathan said to his father, ignoring the word echoing in his mind, reverberating, repeating, driving him mad.

“Yes. Go. I still need to have a talk with these two idiots.”

Mathan was out the door before his father finished his sentence.

In the control room, Carl had just finished reviewing all the data from the SIM card of Kim Namjoon's phone. They had destroyed all of BTS' phones but kept the cards for the contact information. Carl was trolling the pictures; always looking for one sweet face in particular. Every picture of Jungkook warmed his blood more and more.

Carl put the SIM card belonging to Park Jimin into the computer and started the program that would bypass any encryption, waiting impatiently to see what kind of pictures the pretty little thing had of his angel. Carl felt himself stir. He wouldn't mind seeing the two of them together, skin glistening with sweat, legs tangled together, hands roaming. Carl indulged the thought for a moment, a lascivious smile creeping over his parted lips as his mind forced the boys into position after position. No, he wouldn't mind that at all.

He jumped when the computer beeped, pulling away from his daydream. The card was ready to be viewed. As he had done with the others, he downloaded the photos to his personal tablet to review at his leisure. He had a feeling that those photos would be far more personal and intimate, and it made him hate the boy Jimin more even as giddy anticipation swelled in his stomach.

He had just put his tablet away when his nephew walked in.

“Daddy hand you your ass?” Carl sneered at Mathan.

Mathan wasn’t entirely sure why but every time he was around this man - his uncle…his fucking family - now he wanted to kill him. Just take a knife and slit his fucking throat. He was growing concerned about the amount of attention that Carl was paying to BTS and after what had just happened to Min Yoongi, Mathan had decided to keep a closer eye on the boys and protect them when he could.

“My ass is just fine, thanks for asking…Uncle Carl.”

Mathan knew that Carl hated being called uncle because they were not that far apart in age and being addressed like that made him feel old.

“Your shift is done. Father wants you to make a supply run. He’ll have the list for you in his office.”

“Whatever,” Carl snarled as he bumped into Mathan, pushing him to the side as he walked out the control room door.

“Gae-sae-kki.” Mathan taunted at Carl’s back, then slammed the door. He had looked up the Korean phrase that Jin had whispered to him and yes, Carl was a son of a bitch.

He sat down in the chair and pulled up the live camera feed for the room where BTS was being held. As hard and as cold a life as Mathan had lived the past few years, he had a hard time holding back the tears when he saw the scene before him. Taehyung was sitting on a bed wrapped tight between Jimin and Jungkook with Jin and Hoseok flanking them. The five young men looked so small and Mathan didn’t need the zoom to know that tears and anguish painted their faces. Namjoon had wrapped himself around the blanket-covered form of Yoongi and was singing to the shaking figure.

Carl hated the backwoods roads of Kentucky. The twists and turns meant you had to pay attention to your driving and he wanted nothing more than to look at the pictures on his tablet. Luckily for him, he would have to wait on some of the pharmaceutical items he had been ordered to get. It would be several hours before he could return to the compound and he intended to use that time to enjoy the pictures of the beautiful Jungkook. Pulling out said tablet, Carl entered his password, pulling up the first set of pictures he came across which belonged to their leader, Kim Namjoon.

Deleting all but the snapchat one he had found to be…alluring, Carl moved on to the next file which claimed to be from Min Yoongi.

Carl snorted at the stupid pictures on the boy’s phone, wondering why he seemed to have such an obsession with snapchat and the prancing diva, Taehyung. Obviously, he had no taste.

Next, he pulled up Jung Hoseok’s file, and as expected, he was highly disappointed.

Skipping over Jungkook’s file, and Park Jimin’s file, saving those for last, Carl checked Kim Seokjin’s, and was once again disappointed with the idiocy of these idols.

Moving on to Taehyung's, Carl huffed at all of the ‘artsy’ photos but paused at what looked like a selfie of the boy and his muse. It was exquisite and it made him wonder if perhaps there was something he was missing. None of these other brats had taken pictures with Jungkook. Were these two fooling around? Was Jungkook two-timing his supposed lover? Carl looked at the picture closely. They looked young - kids playacting, trying on sultry for size. Jungkook had a more refined look now. Less cutesy, more manly. This picture was old, Carl decided. Did that mean they were a thing in the past and this ‘Taehyung’ hadn’t been able to let go?

As he kept looking, he found all sorts of pictures that were curious…

Carl shook his head, looking at the two pictures. There wasn’t anything suggestive about them but for some reason, they gave him pause, made him look again. It was something about the looks on their faces… so open and unreserved… Happy.

He didn’t like it.

There was a picture of his songbird wearing a most ridiculous Hawaiian shirt. He was standing in front of rocks with foaming water - some kind of cliff, maybe. He was there with the two that always seemed to be clinging to him - the two boys that always seemed to take up his time. Carl remembered watching videos where the three of them were dancing near each other, taking studio shots together, eating next to each other. If their music company was trying to make it seem like they were attached at the hip, it was working. It made Carl sick to keep seeing them always on his beautiful one.

But this picture was different than the studio shots he saw. In this one, they looked natural, comfortable, at ease. They were all wearing ridiculous floral tops, and the pouty-mouthed one even had the nerve to have on a hat with a drawstring - come on! Something about the picture didn’t sit right with Carl because it looked… too right?

Whatever. He moved on to the next file.

Shifting in his seat as he felt a response from his nether regions - because idiots or no idiots, Jungkook’s lips made him breathe heavy - Carl quickly saved the picture while deleting Taehyung's file. He moved on to Jungkook's personal file next, excited to see what kinds of things the boy kept. Sadly, all he found were pictures and snapchat conversations with the fuck-face he kept as a fuck boy. It was disgusting, even if it turned him on just a bit (as much as he hated to admit it).

Just as he prepared to delete all the files, he found a hidden, unnamed folder in the trash bin. Restoring it to its original location Carl opened the folder to view its contents, intrigued by what he saw.

Picture after picture of Kim Taehyung populated, some appearing old, but some looking relatively new. Some were just him, some were Taehyung and Jungkook together, and some, some of them involved Park Jimin. Those pictures fired Carl’s blood even more, especially the ones of all three of them wrapped up together in poses Carl did not understand. The photos encompassed everything and many of them appeared to document some sort of relationship that Carl could not positively say had gone cold, especially with what he had found on Taehyung’s phone.

There were pictures of Jungkook and Taehyung together - seemingly entwined in a loving embrace - that seemed a few years old.

Pictures of Taehyung alone - staring at the moon, basking in the sunlight, and laying seductively on the bed - ones he seemed to have posed for.

Some newer pictures that appeared to have been taken in secret.

And a few that made no sense at all.

This one and even this one…

Maybe this one even more so because it looked like it was snapped without the other two knowing.

Was there something he was missing between the three youngest members? Some of the pictures seemed intimate while others appeared to be simply of friends. Carl decided to save those too and investigate it later.

Then this picture again… Carl noticed it, but didn’t give it much thought as he opened the next file.

He really wondered what all of them meant - especially when he found a picture that appeared to be an invitation - and he decided to keep an eye on the three to see what kind of trouble he could cause. If he could isolate his songbird, it would make him easier to whisk away in the dead of night.

Deleting everything but Jungkook’s secret file, Carl opened Park Jimin’s, ready for the real feast to begin. The first shot appeared to be a picture that his angel had sent the man who Carl was reluctantly, though rapidly, starting to think of as 'the sexy little bitch'.

Jungkook’s upturned eyes stared up at him from his perch on the bed.

"Damn," Carl muttered, barely resisting the urge to release the tension that was building below. Jungkook was so beautiful, he couldn't see straight.

‘One day,’ Carl thought, ‘one day he will send those to me…’

The next picture was much the same, but it in no way helped with his ‘southern’ problem.

He was positively squirming in his seat when he found a picture that cooled his jets and confused him all over again.

Why would he have this? It was obviously a picture that his company or some photographer took for a magazine, but why had he kept it in his phone? Whose hands were they? Was it the pretty boy he messed around with and his? Maybe, but Carl wasn’t so sure. If not Jimin, then who did the other hand belong to?

Carl didn’t want to think about that just then, not when the heat in the pit of his stomach was starting to make him feel real nice. He scrolled frantically to find something he could use to, ah, reset himself.

And then, lo and behold, Carl found the picture of the three of them near the rocks again.

Why was this picture so special that all three of them had it in their phones? Carl didn’t have time to wonder about what might have happened that day for all three of them to keep a picture for themselves - his thumb was scrolling the pictures too fast to linger on the thought, but his interest was definitely piqued.

The last picture he came across that really caught his attention appeared to be a screenshot of something. It made him pause as he realized exactly who the person was. That little bit of exposed skin - that little piece of heaven that was Jeon Jungkook - drove the kidnapper wild. One day soon he would see that beautiful stomach up close - run his hands across it - lick his way down it... One day soon Carl WOULD make Jungkook his own...

Part Twelve

Chapter Summary


Part Twelve

Four hours later when Mathan’s replacement arrived at the control room, he had been radioed by his father with instructions to examine Yoongi and make sure he was still viable as an investment.

‘Viable as an investment’.

Damn, his father really was an unfeeling bastard. As Mathan stood in front of the door to BTS' prison, his stomach churned, not only from his father's cold words but also because of what he was now going to be forced to do. He was adding to the growing trauma these boys had to endure and it was cutting into his soul.

Making sure that his mask and voice box were in place, Mathan took a deep breath and nodded to the two guards with him as he unlocked the door and stepped in.

The sound of the door opening pulled Jin from the restless sleep he had fallen in to. He had been curled around Jimin who was whimpering in his sleep and that had caused Taehyung to roll over and bury his face into the neck of the other who had unconsciously reached out and grabbed Jungkook’s arm. Hoseok had his face buried in Jungkook’s hair and even in his sleep tears continued to fall creating silver trails on his cheeks.

Jin managed to pull himself away without waking the other four huddled on the bed and stood facing the door. He glanced back to see Namjoon leave Yoongi and move to his side. Without thought Jin reached out and grabbed the other’s hand, feeling it wrap tight around his own.

‘What fresh hell could these monsters visit upon them now?’ Jin wondered as the breath caught in his throat and fresh tears threatened to fall.

“You two! Grab your friend there and come with us!” The guard in front said as he motioned towards the bed where Yoongi lay.

Jin looked at Namjoon in confusion because of the strange sounding English, but it was the low animal moan coming from Yoongi that made Jin run at the guard recklessly. Only a gun pointed directly into his face stopped him from attacking.

“Don’t make me hurt you,” the alien voice growled at Jin, sounding almost pleading as the guard waved him back with the gun.

Another of the guards reached out, grabbing Jin’s arm and twisting it behind his back before he could move.

The first expressionless mask looked at Namjoon, then pointed to the bed. The others had woken up and were frozen at the sight before them. A gun pointed at their leader and the oldest being pulled from the room.

The voice spoke again, this time with more force as the gun moved until it was pointed at the four sitting on the bed.

“I will not tell you again. Pick up your friend and move to the door.”

The monster inside Namjoon howled for release as he turned and walked over to the mound of blankets containing Yoongi.

“Forgive me, Yoongi hyung,” he whispered as he bent low and carefully lifted his brother from the bed. He couldn’t raise his eyes to look at the other four as he walked past the guards and out the door.

For a moment, it seemed as if the one who had been speaking paused and gave a shallow nod of affirmation to Taehyung’s anguished plea, but it could have just been the wishful thinking of the four terrified young men.

Mathan watched the man holding Jin roughly push him into the room that had been set up as a makeshift triage. For a moment, it was all he could do not to put a bullet in the bastards head. But he had to keep his mind on what he had to do next. He motioned Namjoon to move into the room before speaking, his stomach already threatening to revolt.

“Place your friend on the bed there and then step back against the wall with the other one,” he commanded firmly, waving the gun again to assert his authority.

Mathan stood aside as Namjoon did as he was told. The look on the Korean man’s face was one that promised death. It startled Mathan to see that expression on a face so young. What did this man carry inside him that had created such a shadow behind those eyes? Would it give him the strength to survive this nightmare? Something told Mathan that it would, but how much of Namjoon’s soul would remain was the question.

After Namjoon moved back to stand against the wall with Jin, Mathan turned to the two guards with him.

“The two of you go wait out in the hall.”

“Those are not our orders sir, we are supposed to remain in the room.”

Mathan knew that the one who had answered was one of Yoongi’s attackers and was hoping for an extra thrill at the young man’s expense. That shit was not going to happen.

“Do you honestly think any one of these pretty little Korean boys could possibly overpower me and escape?” He made sure that the the contempt in his voice was clear, even through the voice box as he stood tall, flexing his full 6’5 280-pound frame. “Wait outside and if you don’t hear a knock on the door every fifteen minutes then come to my rescue,” Mathan said with a smirk.

Mathan stared at the two until they turned and left the room. Behind the mask he closed his eyes for a moment, gathering the strength he needed to be robotic about the task at hand; to do what needed to be done to help these boys. Help them he would, even if it cost him his freedom or his life.

Turning back to Namjoon and Jin he pulled a medics bag from the floor and moved towards the bed. Both young men thought about attacking Mathan, trying to overpower him, but gave up at the sight of the gun still in his hand.

“I need to examine your friend and make sure that he isn’t injured anywhere. I need you not to fight me, because things will get much worse for you if you do, and there won’t be anything I can do to stop it.”

Mathan focused his words on Namjoon, knowing that his English was better and as the leader of BTS, that Jin would follow his lead.

“We need to get these blankets off of him and his clothes as well. I need to look for broken bones and bleeding… internally and externally. To do, that I will be required to touch him. He will fight me. I need the two of you to help me restrain him so he does not hurt himself further. Is that understood?” Mathan said, looking between the two.

He wished he did not have on a mask or the voice box that he did, for that matter. Neither of the items helped him to connect with the boys the way he needed to. They did not allow Jin to see who he could be, if allowed. Mathan knew his eyes could be calming when he needed them to be, and the tone of his voice was often very useful in getting people to cooperate. This damn robot shit was for the birds. He had never labored under the delusion that they would not be caught. It was just a matter of time before someone, most likely Carl, fucked up and sent them all to the hell that they deserved. The only variable there was the punishment they received. The last time they had been caught only a few of his father's crew had been struck down, the rest of them fleeing to safety and their victim content with the blood that had been shed. What would happen this time?

After a few seconds of silence, the figure on the bed began to thrash and this told Mathan that Min Yoongi's English was better than any of the captors first thought.

“Tell him I will do my best not to hurt him,” Mathan said, wondering how commanding his voice sounded. “I have training in the medical field. I’m not here to add to his injury. I’m here to make sure he isn’t going to die.”

Namjoon looked at the faceless man before him, some unreadable expression crossing his features before he narrowed his eyes, a parting strike, and turned to Jin.

“Help me, hyung,” he said softly. “Yoongi hyung likes it when you sing. Help me keep him calm.”

“What is going on?” Jin asked as he looked at all the figures in the room. “What is he going to do?”

“He needs to make sure hyung isn’t injured,” Namjoon said, blanching as he spoke. “Just close your eyes and sing to him and help me hold him.”

“Joon-ah?" Jin breathed, terror, seizing him.

“Please don’t make me say it, hyung,” Namjoon begged, his eyes filling with unshed tears at the thought of the fresh trauma the three of them would have to endure. As their leader, he prayed that the gods would have mercy on his brothers and let him suffer it all.

Jin paused for a moment, his brow furrowing before he nodded, the pain on his dongsaeng’s face enough to crush him.

Part Thirteen

Chapter Summary


Part Thirteen

Jin slowly walked over to the cot where his brother in all but blood lay.

“Yoongi-ya,” he said softly, kneeling down in front of the man’s face. “We need to get these blankets off you. You need to wash up and…there’s someone here to make sure you are not injured."

“We have to trust him, hyung,” Namjoon said from Yoongi’s other side. “We need to…let him check you…”

The tears welled again in Yoongi’s eyes as he held his blanket cocoon tighter and shook his head furiously, refusing to leave the comfort zone he had made.

“We’ll be right here, hyung,” Namjoon said, his voice catching at the emotions.

“They told us…we could stay,” Jin said, trying to give his friend a comforting smile while his stomach churned. “I will even sing to you if you promise to let us help you.”

Yoongi shook his head again and closed his eyes against this new nightmare.

“Will you do it for Taehyung?” Namjoon asked. “It...might make him feel better? To know that you are not physically injured…”

“Please…” Yoongi breathed as fresh tears leaked down his cheeks. “Please don’t make me…”

Jin bowed his head against the frame of the cot as he gently raised a hand and set it on Yoongi’s cheek.

“Dongsaeng-ah,” he said softly. “I can’t imagine…what you must be feeling but…you are the bravest person that I know. Please…”

Yoongi closed his eyes and concentrated on the feeling of his hyung’s hand on his cheek, feeling the warmth penetrate his skin as it calmed his wrecked nerves. Jin’s touch had always reminded him of his mother’s, and now more than ever he was thankful for it.

“Joon-ah?” Yoongi asked, his voice small.

“I’m right here, hyung,” Namjoon said, placing his hand on the blanketed mound that was his friend.

“I think…” Yoongi started before he sat straight up, the contents of his stomach emptying all over the side of the bed where Jin had stood moments before.

All three men looked at the masked figure before them with newfound fear in their eyes. They were sure a beating would come from such an action, but Mathan just stood there, stock still.

“Help him undress,” he said. “There is a gown in that cabinet there he can put on, but do not tie it. I’ll get something so you two can clean up that mess. It stinks enough in here as it is.”

Not waiting for a response, Mathan turned and walked out of the room, thankful he had a valid excuse to give Yoongi some privacy as he prepared to be violated once more.

“Gae-sae-kki,” Jin hissed once again as Yoongi put his head in his hands.

“It’s okay, Yoongi-ya,” Jin said softly, turning back to Yoongi and feeling his heart break all over again. “No one is going to hurt you. They’ll have to get through Joon-ah and I first.”

“Exactly,” Namjoon said. “That isn’t going to happen, hyung.”

Yoongi bit his already tortured bottom lip and nodded his head, but did not move further to remove anything more.

“Let’s start with these blankets first,” Jin said, grabbing the edge of one. “We will find you new ones when we get back to the others, hmm?”

Yoongi slowly moved, his muscles sore from the fighting and abuse he had suffered. Untangling his fingers from the blankets he slowly let them pool around him as he lifted his face to look at Jin, his eyes empty and lost. Jin gave him a soft, sad smile and nodded for him to continue. Pausing for a moment Yoongi grabbed the hem of his shirt, rolling it between his fingers as he battled his demons to remove it in front of anyone, the voices of his assailants still fresh in his mind.

“Hyung, they will be back soon…” Namjoon said, sounding the slightest bit worried.

Closing his eyes as more tears fell, Yoongi slowly removed his shirt, a hiss escaping him as he did, the action tearing at his muscles.

Jin threw himself back as Namjoon lost the contents of his own stomach.

“Wha….” Jin breathed, immediately snapping his mouth shut as his brain switched back on.

Yoongi's torso was littered with handprints and bite marks from his collarbones to just under the edge of the sweatpants that he wore. There were bruises everywhere - some were pale, while others were a vivid blood red. Even as they looked they could see new bruises forming under his skin. What had those animals done to their precious brother in the few hours he had been away from them? Jin felt as if a piece of his soul was dying as he looked at the evidence of the savagery that had been done to Yoongi's body.

“'M sorry…” Yoongi said, his arms wrapping around his body to try and conceal as much of it as he could.

Recovering himself Namjoon grabbed the hospital gown and handed it to Yoongi, helping him put it on so the back was opened, and his torso was covered.

“Can you stand?” Jin asked, looking at Yoongi in concern. He also glanced over at Namjoon who was taking a deep breath to collect himself.

Yoongi hadn’t left the bed on his own since he had been returned and none of the other members had been willing to test his physical abilities.


At just that moment the door jerked open and the same faceless man as before stepped in.

“He hasn’t finished changing,” Namjoon said, not looking at the man.

“Do I need to do it for him?” he asked, the sarcasm clear. Fucking microphones everywhere. He wanted to kill someone.

Namjoon flexed his fist and ground his teeth together desperately wanting to say something but holding his tongue to keep his brothers safe. One day he would catch these fuckers alone, and then he’d make sure they understood.

“Yoongi?” Jin asked, extending his hands to help the boy.

Slowly reaching out, Yoongi pulled himself up, a scream ripping through him as his body was, once again, set on fire. Mathan could not contain the curse that flew from his mouth at the sound. This was definitely not a good sign.

Namjoon was on Yoongi’s other side in a heartbeat, his hands bracing his brother as his knees buckled and he almost fell. Once they had him steadied, the two worked together to get Yoongi’s sweats off, Jin pulling the blankets away and throwing them to the door as Namjoon helped Yoongi sit back down.

“Put that shit in a pile and we’ll burn it,” Mathan said, referring to the clothes and blankets. “I’ll find you a sheet or something to take back with you.”

Mathan hated being so cruel but he knew he was being watched. Being this way might help the boys get home. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he tried to keep his composure.

“Hold him,” Mathan said as he sat the bag on the counter and started digging out various tools that he would need, slipping on protective gloves and setting out vials of this and that, fresh needles lining the counter. No one said he couldn’t give the boy before him a little relief. Or some antibiotics. Or pure oblivion for a few more days. One way or another he would need something to help his ravaged body heal.

Namjoon looked at Jin and nodded, a signal to help restrain Yoongi. For now, they simply held their brother's hands and crouched beside his cot.

Saying a prayer, Mathan approached Yoongi, looking him over thoroughly before kneeling down.

“I need you to translate everything I say,” he said to Namjoon. “I know he understands me, but I can’t take any chances that he misses something. If he fights me, I will be forced to hurt him, again.”

Namjoon just nodded, telling Yoongi to close his eyes.

Slowly Mathan reached out his hands, telling Namjoon everything he was about to do and waiting for it to be translated before actually doing it. Finding no broken bones or injuries anywhere visible, Mathan handed Namjoon a sheet to lay over Yoongi’s lap and instructed him to remove the gown so he could check his torso.

When Mathan saw the road-map of bruises he knew that someone would die for this. He promised to kill them himself. No one deserved what he was seeing, and if he had anything to do with it, it would never happen again. If Mathan had had any sort of clue about it going on, it would not have happened to begin with. His father was definitely not going to be pleased.

“I need to give him a shot,” Mathan said. “The skin is broken in some places. I don’t have time to fix him if he gets infected. And I still have to check-”

“Yoongi hates needles,” Namjoon said, cutting the masked man off inadvertently, fear taking over his senses completely.

“And I hate babysitting a bunch of prissy little pretty boys,” Mathan snorted, turning and preparing a needle with antibiotics and one a with painkiller just in case.

He ignored the trepidation in Namjoon’s eyes; the man looked like a dog afraid of reprimand. Mathan wouldn’t raise a hand to him for the infraction. He would never raise a hand to Namjoon at all, if he could help it.

“Tell him to roll over on his stomach and hold him tight,” Mathan said as he advanced once more. “This is going to hurt. A lot.”

Namjoon didn’t even have to translate as Yoongi painfully rolled over, burying his face in Jin’s waiting arms. The older man leaned over Yoongi’s head and shoulders, coaxing the younger’s arms around his waist while his head sat in his lap. When Yoongi settled, Jin leaned his head down and whispered, “Close your eyes, Yoongi-ya.” The tears coming hard and fast for him. He knew what was coming. They all did. “Close your eyes and listen to my voice. Trust your hyung, mm?”

Yoongi nodded softly and closed his eyes, trying, and failing, to relax. While Jin concentrated on Yoongi, Namjoon focused on the monster in the room.

“Hyung?” Yoongi asked as he tried to keep his mind off of what was about to happen.

“Shhh,” Jin soothed.

With a deep breath, Jin started to sing the lyrics that had come to Yoongi in a dream - the ones he penned for Jungkook's hopeful voice - Butterfly.

“Don’t think of anything,

Don’t say anything,

not even a word.

Just give me a smile,

I still can’t believe it,

All of this seems like a dream,

Don’t try to disappear..."

Mathan knew that he had hurt the boy no matter how delicate he had tried to be. He knew the others would have heard his screams. He knew the two in the room with him were plotting his death. He knew that everyone involved would be haunted.

Slowly standing and switching out gloves, he prepared another needle of medicine. He turned around and found himself looking directly at Jin.

"Hold these,” Mathan commanded, trying to maintain control of himself in light of the beautiful visage before him.

Jin looked at him for a moment, with hate in his eyes, before looking back at Yoongi who was holding on to both of he and Namjoon for dear life, a never-ending flow of tears streaming from his eyes.

“It’s to help him get better,” Mathan said slowly. “It’s an antibiotic, and a painkiller, and something to help his stomach and to help him sleep. It’s everything I have…”

Namjoon nodded to Jin, signaling that it was okay. Being careful to hand the needles to Jin, Mathan also slipped him a note which he hoped the man would hide and read later.

Slowly walking over to Yoongi and tying off a vein, Mathan made quick work of the shots, checking the boy’s vitals once more, satisfied with how everything went and preparing a report for his father in his head.

“I’ll have blankets delivered for him. Put him in warm clothes. Stay close to him tonight. If something goes wrong from the medicine, scream. I will come to you,” Mathan whispered to Namjoon, the tone of his voice softer, evident even through the distortion of the synthesizer.

Giving one last look toward the two men, Mathan turned and opened the door to the guards standing in the hallway. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jin slip the note into his pocket and prayed that he would read it.

Wanting to give them that chance, he spoke to the two standing outside the door, “I needed to give him something for the pain and it will knock the boy out in about fifteen minutes, so we will wait, and I will carry him back.”

With a quick glance at Jin and Namjoon that he hoped intimated everything he wanted to say, Mathan pulled the door closed, putting himself in the hallway and hopefully giving Jin and Namjoon the time to read the note.

“Joon-ah?” Jin asked, his brow furrowed as he looked at his leader, and friend, showing him the crumple of paper in his hand.

“What is it?” Namjoon asked, his voice low.

“Dunno,” Jin replied.

“Hide it,” Namjoon said as he subtly looked around. “Those monsters said there were cameras. Could be a trap, hyung.”

“Shouldn’t we read it?” Jin asked in confusion.

“Later,” Namjoon said with a minimal shake of his head. “Put it in your pocket. Let’s…wait until tonight.”

The two of them had kept their voices low, standing in a corner to prevent being recorded. For now Namjoon could only hope that it worked.

Later that night when everyone was settled, Namjoon had Jin pull out the note as they hid their hands in the mess of blankets they had made.

“What does it say?” Jin asked softly, his body angled slightly to obstruct the view of the cameras they could see.

“Mmm?” Namjoon asked as he read the letter again, trying to make sense of it.

“What does it say?” Jin asked again, looking at the words on the paper but not understanding anything other than his name.

“It’s…to you,” Namjoon said. “It’s…an apology. I don’t understand…”

“Apology?” Jin asked, his eyes widening in surprise. “What for?”

Namjoon shook his head minutely.

“He says that he is sorry for all the pain he has caused, and…says there will be more and…he says he is going to get us out of here but…he needs time,” the younger man said.

“Should we trust him?” Jin asked, looking at the letter.

"No," Namjoon said definitively. "We trust no one. Especially no one here who is nice to us. It's probably just some sick trick or…a trap. Everyone here is a monster. Monsters have no conscience and no remorse. We won't feed into these mind games."

Jin nodded as he processed his Namjoon’s words but just this once he could not agree. Whoever this guard had been was obviously different. He had given Yoongi medicine to help him heal and rest. He had been as gentle as he could and…Jin swore there was a kindness in his eyes. There was more to this letter…this person…more than Namjoon was able to see then. Jin had decided to watch and find out what it was about this man that made feel like he could trust him.

Part Fourteen

Chapter Notes


Part Fourteen

Jungkook paced from one end of the room to the other, counting the steps off in his head. How long had they been gone? Several thousand steps, it seemed. He kept stopping at the door, praying that each time he did it would open to reveal the others. When it didn’t, he turned and started back across the room, only to find Hoseok standing directly in his path.

“Will you stop that damned pacing and go sit down! I can’t take it anymore.” The older man growled, his voice low and harsh.

“Hobi-hyung…” Jimin scolded from his spot on the bed next to Taehyung.

Before Jimin could finish, Hoseok broke in.

“No! We are all afraid for the others but his pacing around like a caged tiger isn’t doing them any good. It is only making things worse for us here.”

Jungkook surprised everyone by getting up into Hoseok’s face and replying, “Fuck you!”

He then stepped around the other and resumed his pacing.

The young man had only taken a step or two when he was grabbed and yanked around by Hoseok.

Before the anger that was truly not directed at each other erupted, Taehyung stepped between Hoseok and Jungkook. Wrapping an arm around each of their necks, he pulled them into a tight hug.

“Please... ” Taehyung pleaded with tear-filled eyes. "We have to stick together," he said as Jimin wrapped his arms around them as well. “We have to be each other's strengths so that these evil people cannot break us.”

With tears running down his face, Jungkook placed his hand on Hoseok’s neck and pulled their faces together, foreheads touching.

“Sorry, hyung.”

Taehyung and Jimin moved until they stood on either side of the two and pressed their foreheads in to form a square. They stood there silent, letting their breath mingle and become one. Minutes or hours could have passed as they stood there, their bond reaffirming itself with every second that passed. It was only the sound of the door opening that pulled their attention from one another.

At first, there was fear when a black-clad guard walked in, but the sight of an obviously sleeping Yoongi being carried in those arms calmed them a little. The sight of Jin and Namjoon following behind sent even more relief flowing through the four.

As the guard gently placed Yoongi on one of the beds, the four young men rushed forward and enfolded Jin and Namjoon into their arms.

“Is Yoongi-hyung alright?” Taehyung asked of their leader.

He silently berated himself for asking such a stupid question considering the horror they were in the middle of, but he needed reassurance from their leader that his love was going to be as alright as he could be.

Namjoon wrapped his hands around Taehyung's face, bringing their foreheads together, and whispered fiercely, “Yoongi is alive. Taehyung is alive. Seokjin is alive. Hoseok is alive. Jimin is alive. Jungkook is alive. Namjoon is alive. We all live, and we will all get out of this fucking hell!”

At first there was fear when a black clad guard walked in, but the sight of an obviously sleeping Yoongi being carried in those arms calmed them a little. The sight of Jin and Namjoon following behind sent even more relief flowing through the four.

As the guard gently place Yoongi on one of the beds, the four young men rushed forward and enfolded Jin and Namjoon into their arms.

“Is Yoongi-hyung alright?” Taehyung asked of their leader.

He silently berated himself for asking such a stupid question considering the horror they were in the middle of, but he needed the reassurance of their leader that his love was going to be as alright as he could be.

Namjoon wrapped his hands around Taehyungs face, bringing their foreheads together and whispered fiercely, “Yoongi is alive. Taehyung is alive. Seokjin is alive. Hoseok is alive. Jimin is alive. Jungkook is alive Namjoon is alive! We all live, and we will all get out of this fucking hell!”

Part Fifteen

Chapter Notes


Part Fifteen

South Korea

It is the late afternoon and the city seems unusually quiet and still. In front of the headquarters of Big Hit Entertainment, a large number of fans of Bangtan Sonyeondan hold vigil. The size of the group there has never wavered, has in fact grown as international fans arrived in Seoul to join their fellow ARMY.

Signs, flowers, drawings, stuffed animals and presents of all kinds formed an almost impassable barrier in front of the building. Staff members came out every hour to gather up as much as they could to take back inside with them.

In front of the mounds of tributes stood a blonde reporter from America reporting for ABC news.

"It has been just a little over two weeks since international K-pop sensation, Bangtan Sonyeondan, better known as BTS, was abducted just outside a studio where they were working on their latest album. There has been no word from the kidnappers since the initial ransom demand was sent. The official word from sources within law enforcement is that the search is still ongoing throughout the country and they have asked the public for any information that might help.”

The reporter moved and gestured to the crowd as she spoke again.

“As you can see, David, the outpouring of love and support has been growing by the day. There are similar vigils like this one being held all over the world and fans, Korean and international alike, have begun planning prayer vigils as well as fundraisers to offer rewards for the safe return of BTS and the capture of their abductors. Reporting from Seoul, South Korea, this is Karen Sanders.”

Hitman stood alone at his office window looking down at the crowds. His countenance was pale and worn, new lines spreading out from his eyes and mouth. All his thoughts were on seven young men and the fear they must be living through right now. But he had to pray that they still lived because night after night he was awoken from his fitful sleep by nightmares of watching each of them die in front of him as he stood powerless to help.

Hitman watched reporters from Seoul and around the world move through the crowds talking to as many people as they could. He knew most of the coverage was for sound bites and ratings, but he also prayed that the loving energy these devoted fans gave to his boys would carry through the universe to wherever they were, wrapping them in a protective embrace.

He was startled from his thoughts by the phone on his desk. The last of the money was supposed to be made available soon and he was waiting for the confirmation call. As he listened to the voice on the other end, Hitman felt his knees give way as he fell to the floor in anguish.

“No, this can’t be happening…”

Top officials in the government had declared the kidnappers terrorists. South Korea had an anti-terrorism policy that prevented them from allowing the ransom to be paid.

There was nothing he could do.

Hitman could not stop the tears from flowing as his nightmare now became a real possibility.

Reporters from all over the world were combing the masses, sticking microphones into tear-stained faces, trying their best to understand this phenomenon known as ARMY. Fans had come from thousands of miles away, to a country where they didn't speak the language, to form prayer circles and sit in rigid formal bows, heads nearly touching the ground in supplication. They made offerings to gods they had never heard of before, joining each other in prayer for the safe return of seven men they had never even met to any deity who might listen. Fansites were handing out necessities like food and water, blankets and pillows. En masse, the dedicated fans that were BTS’ ARMY sang the group’s songs in broken Korean, waving ARMY Bombs with a slow, melancholy precision.

“What does it mean to be ARMY?” one fan repeated as they looked at the pretty blonde reporter in front of them. “As ARMY, we are family. All of us are underneath the same sky. We see the same stars and pray to the same sad moon. And right now ARMY’s greatest fear is that our galaxy is losing its seven brightest, most precious stars, all at the same time. All of us are lost and all we can do is beg Bangtan Sonyeondan to hold on. We must pray that whoever took them sees the error in their actions and returns them to us, their family, unharmed. Kim Namjoon. Kim Seokjin. Jung Hoseok. Min Yoongi. Park Jimin. Kim Taehyung. Jeon Jungkook. These seven amazing and selfless beings who have done nothing to deserve this nightmare. My heart breaks for them. ARMY will pray for them. Until whenever. Or…forever…”

"What do I want to tell BTS?" another fan asked, preparing to answer a smartly dressed reporter from India. "I want to tell them that they owe us one more funny face, one more brilliant smile, and one more terrible dance that only they can make awesome. I want them to remember all the promises they made to us. I want them to keep believing in their galaxy. I want them to know that the world is praying for them. Not just ARMY. They have united us as human beings. I want them to know that…that ARMY is waiting for them. Praying for them. Crying. Fighting. I want them to know that the world loves them and that we need them to stay strong, and in return, we will be strong and keep fighting for their return. Saranghae!"

Part Sixteen

Chapter Summary


Chapter Notes

T/N: KOREAN VOCABULARY LESSON!!! WOOHOO!!!!! Here are the new words we used this chapter!

 Dak-chyeo: (offensive) ‘Shut up’

 Nabbeun namja: ‘bad guy’

 Shibal: ‘shit’ or ‘fuck’ or ‘motherfucker’ (noun form)

 Gajima: ‘don’t go’

Part Sixteen

Mathan sank wearily into the control room chair. Time is supposed to pass quickly when you are having fun, but when you are a witness to hell, time moves at a crawl. He looked at the live feed and watched seven souls that were slowly fading away.

The weeks since he had examined Min Yoongi and found him as healthy as one could be after enduring what he had, had become a trial of pain, fear, and the slow dissolving of what Mathan had known BTS to be.

Less than a week after Yoongi’s return to the others, Jin had earned himself a broken finger when he had grabbed a guard who slapped Hoseok when the young man had been violently ill after eating.

In fact, all the members of BTS were eating less and less. So much so that his father had talked about force feeding them. Mathan himself had spoken to Namjoon one time when he had delivered cooking utensils to the boys, telling him that they needed to eat and keep their strength up. All he had gotten was a sneer and the other man spitting on the floor.

Next had been Jimin. Carl seemed to have it in for that young man, only Mathan couldn’t tell if it was because he hated him or because he wanted him. Twice Mathan had seen his uncle push at the young man, taunting him with a satisfied grin on his face. He shoved him, slapped him, attacked his body - his soul - his very manhood, giving Jimin no choice but to fight back. But when he did, all hell broke loose. The first time, Carl had thrown Jimin, infinitely smaller than his abuser, to the ground and drug him out of the room by his hair. Mathan had tried to intervene through his father, but had been told to leave it alone because the boys needed to learn some respect. The second time, Mathan hadn’t even bothered to go through his father. He had gone into the room with the cooking utensils to find Carl pining Jimin to the wall by his neck, choking him while two guards held off the other six. The look on Carl’s face made Mathan sick to his stomach.

He had dropped the container to the floor, grabbed Carl by the scruff of his neck and dragged him out of the room. The sight of Jimin curled up, coughing and crying in Jungkook's arms was too much for Mathan. He made it clear to Carl that from now on he was to keep his distance from all the members of BTS and stick to the control room. He had even pulled off his mask in the hallway to make sure that Carl could see the death on his face.

Yoongi had become a quiet shadow, avoiding all contact, even from the other members. He would make a nest of blankets in the far corner of the room and only leave it for the bathroom or when forced by the others to eat. Mathan had watched the boy Taehyung do everything in his power to comfort who he now guessed was his lover. All efforts were rejected, sometimes violently, especially if Taehyung tried to touch Yoongi.

Mathan remembered one moment that he wished he could forget; the feeling of spying had never been more pronounced than on that day.

“Please,” Taehyung had whispered as he crouched next to the bundle that was the man he so desperately tried to love. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Go away,” Yoongi hissed, his teeth clenched, muffling the words but not lessening the bite.

“What have I done?” Taehyung groaned, frustrated, at a loss.

“Go away,” Yoongi hissed again.

“Please Yoongi, we all need each other to get through this. Don’t shut me out.-…”

The proximity of their bodies was driving Yoongi mad with rage and guilt, feelings of inadequacy and spoil, threatening to swallow him whole.

“This was a mistake,” Yoongi said as self-loathing settled back over him like one of his many blankets. “I… I shouldn’t have done this. You didn’t deserve this.”

“What? Yoongi, I didn’t deserve what? I don’t understand,” Taehyung said as he settled on the bed closest to Yoongi’s corner.

“I never should have done this… any of this,” Yoongi admits. “Taehyung, I…” Yoongi regarded Taehyung directly for the first time in what felt like days, looking him right in the face. “I don’t think I should be with you anymore.” Yoongi waited for a reaction, for something to tell him he was wrong, even though he shouldn’t want to see that - shouldn’t need that. Regardless of what Taehyung felt, Yoongi knew he was right about letting him go. But he wanted to see if he was wrong, wanted to see if there was something more real under the surface - something he had forced Taehyung to lock away and hide from him when his tirades came to destroy everything like a tornado… but there was nothing. Taehyung’s face showed weary indignation that Yoongi knew he was responsible for putting there, but the love he had hoped to see in his eyes was nowhere to be found.

“Yeon-in,” Taehyung said, his voice tired. Yoongi was walling himself off and he had no idea how to stop it. He knew the others expected him to fix Yoongi, to get him to come back to the fold because they were together and he should know him best, but…

Taehyung’s eyes found Jimin and Jungkook sitting on a bed behind Yoongi’s and lingered there for a moment. They were sitting together, one on either side of the bed. They were sitting close; Taehyung knew their hips were touching as they both leaned over to rest their elbows on their knees. Jimin had been holding his head in his hands, undoubtedly wracking his brain over what they were going to do. He knew Jimin wanted to protect Jungkook, protect his brothers… his heart sank at the realization that he didn’t know if that included him anymore. But now Jimin was looking at Taehyung and so was Jungkook. They were looking at him and they weren’t snarling at him, they weren’t frowning. They were looking at him with compassion in their eyes, and something else that Taehyung didn’t - couldn’t - allow himself to define...

“Why do you care so much, hmm?” Yoongi said, startling Taehyung and bringing him back to the conversation. “Why?” Yoongi’s eyes burned hot. “It’s not like you really care, is it Taehyung-ah?” Yoongi’s tone was bitter.

Taehyung flinched. He thought he had been careful. He thought he had everyone fooled… even himself.

“I-” he started.

“Don’t,” Yoongi said, cutting him off.

Yoongi already knew the truth. He always had. He could see it in the way Taehyung looked at him, short and deliberate. He never looked into his soul, never rested his warm brown eyes on Yoongi, letting them course over him to uncover his most intimate secrets. He remained surfaced… distant. Yoongi thought that was his penance, that distance, when he so badly wanted someone to see him for who he was, to peel away the rough layers and love him anyway. He thought maybe that’s what he deserved for the way things went. He hoped Taehyung would grow to want more of him if he loved him right. He hoped, if he gave Taeyhung everything he wanted, he would see the man before him and actually desire him. But Yoongi could never give Taehyung what he wanted, it was out of his reach. Yoongi knew he was never going to be the one for Taehyung, especially now that he had been put in his place by the monstrous guards who had taken him away.

"Yoongi,” Taehyung said not knowing what else to say.

“Dak-chyeo, Taehyung, I’m no fool,” Yoongi spat. He tried not to feel worse that Taehyung didn’t even react to his outburst. ““You don’t really love me… you can’t.”

“I do!” Taehyung insisted louder than he intended to. He thought about reaching out to touch Yoongi to drive the point home, but wondered if he might be struck, maybe harder this time. He was afraid of what would happen if they saw...

Yoongi laughed at that – a short, cruel sound of condescension. “Right, right, ok. Let everybody know, why not?” His voice rose in anger. He jabbed a finger at his own chest as he cast his eyes around the room, seeing each of his brothers’ concerned stares. “Nabbeun namja.”

“Shibal,” Taehyung hissed under his breath. He was angry at Yoongi for always turning everything into an argument. He was angry at himself for being frustrated with Yoongi at a time like this - he had been brutalized, that was obvious, and he needed care, not a fight. Taehyung hated himself for not finding more compassion in his soul. But there was more that he was angry about, more that rattled around in his heart that he couldn’t reconcile. Damnit, he was so fucking angry that this… this was his reality.

A cruel smile spread across Yoongi’s face. “Your heart still belongs to them,” he shouted. Taehyung reached out before he realized what he was doing to cover Yoongi’s mouth roughly. Yoongi pushed his hand away but lowered his voice anyway. “I see how you look at them. How you ran to him when-”

"Don't say that!” Taehyung growled. “I’m with you, Yoongi. Isn’t that what you wanted? Or is that not enough anymore?”

Taehyung was incensed and Yoongi felt horrible. Taehyung had never lashed out like that before, never raised his voice to him. In that moment, Yoongi could see everything he had done to his beautiful flower in his quest to keep him. He had closed his mouth, killed that beautiful voice, restricted him, made him conform into the person he thought Yoongi wanted, all the while knowing that was not what he wanted for himself. This was the Taehyung Yoongi had known for most of his life, that fiery, no nonsense lion he fell for. Where had he gone? Why had Yoongi made him leave?

No, Yoongi thought to himself. No more.

"No," Yoongi said, his tone sad for more reasons than he would ever divulge, as he hung his head. “You shouldn't be with me. And I don’t want you to be."

Taehyung looked as if he might kill Yoongi with his bare hands. Was this really happening now? Was the man he had changed everything for really abandoning him in the midst of the hell they were in?

Taehyung took a trembling deep breath. He had no idea what had happened to Yoongi and everything he had tried to do to console him had blown up in his face. This wasn’t supposed to happen, at least not now. No matter how much he might want to turn away, Taehyung couldn’t do that when Yoongi needed him most. They were still brothers, in the end.

“Yoongi,” Taehyung breathed, his eyes closed, head bowed in acquiescence, “Gajima.” Taehyung leaned in and pressed his forehead to Yoongi’s hoping to quell his anger by touch.

“I’m not the same,” Yoongi said as he fought to hold back tears.

“I don’t care.” Taehyung’s gaze was soft as he reassured the suffering man. “You are still you.”

Yoongi looked at Taehyung’s face, taking in the curves and contours, as if for the last time. There was a finality to his voice when he spoke at last, standing to walk away as he did, leaving Taehyung where he sat. “I’m sorry…”

They had all changed. Mathan felt like he was watching the life drain out of each of them. It manifested itself in different ways, this death of soul the boys were experiencing - sadness had pervaded Hoseok’s effervescence, leaving him a ghost.

Namjoon used to have the confidence of a man who had come into his own but captivity had beaten all of that away to leave a scared little boy futility playing dress up in clothes that were several sizes too big. And he raged. The only time Namjoon seemed to quiet that rage was when he was held by Hoseok, a luxury he allowed less and less.

And Jin. It hurt his heart to see what had happened to him. Once so confident in his elegance, so sure in his step, the man was a shell of who he used to be. There was a hardness to his face now, as he donned the role of protector for his family and that made Mathan sad. He was still so handsome - indeed, the most handsome man Mathan had ever laid eyes on, if he was being honest - but there was something that was undeniably changed in his appearance, something hard that had taken residence there. Mathan feared it would never leave.

There was something else Mathan had noticed. He had observed that at least six of the seven members had paired off and he suspected it had been that way before they were taken. Jin seemed to be attached to the other six but not in what one would think of as a romantic relationship. He was the ultimate caregiver, spending hours singing to Yoongi, holding and rocking Hoseok during one of his nightmares, sleeping wrapped around Jungkook after Carl had dragged Jimin away. Mathan had watched him comfort Taehyung after Yoongi had shoved him away and hold cold compresses to Jimin’s throat after Carl’s second attack on the boy.

He prayed that when the ransom was paid in two days and the boys were returned to their lives in South Korea, they would defeat their demons and heal from the pain he and the others had caused them.

Hoseok watched Namjoon as he sat staring at the wall. He was seething - a state he seemed to be in constantly. Hoseok missed him. He missed him with everything he had. They were just starting to get into their groove, finding how they matched together and marveling at how many ways they were perfect together. Hoseok loved him; he wasn’t ashamed to admit that, even if they were so new. And he thought Namjoon loved him too, but now, looking at his profile so stony and cold and distant from him, Hoseok didn’t know anymore.

God, Hoseok wanted to call out to him, to touch him, to feel his arms around his waist, pulling him close, to feel his lips brush his ear as he spoke words intended only for him.-

“Ani,” Hoseok whispered to himself, stopping his descent down the rabbit hole.

It didn’t make sense to think about what once was - remembering the way he felt when Namjoon held him would do nothing to stave off the coldness he was experiencing now. No matter how desperately he wished that he could turn to Namjoon, Hoseok knew the man was struggling on his own. Hoseok knew how hard it was for Namjoon, trying to lead them in the face of such inconceivable darkness. Namjoon had to distance himself, had to turn off his emotions in order to survive. Just like before. The demons he had watched his leader-turned-lover battle against were rearing their ugly heads again and it was all Namjoon could do to keep his head above water. More often than not Namjoon was in a corner thinking through next steps or fighting Yoongi to get out of bed and live: leading them the best he could. Them. All of them. Hoseok knew these things, but that didn’t make it any easier to stomach. He wanted Namjoon to take care of him, to comfort him, to tell him it would be okay. He wanted Namjoon to be there for him as his leader, as his friend… as his lover.

He felt selfish even thinking that way.

As Hoseok cast a last glance over to the man he wanted to share his life with forever, he wondered if now, in this dark reality, they were even together at all.

Part Seventeen

Chapter Notes


Part Seventeen

How many weeks had they been here? Jungkook was starting to lose count. He knew Jin had found some child's crayon and was trying to mark time as it went by; but they had no idea how much time had passed before they awoke in this hell. Time was losing meaning. They had begun to measure it as the waiting period between recovery and new pain brought to them by these monsters.

The only escape now was sleep.

A few days later, as the boys were laying in a mind-numbing silence, the steel door banged open and several men filed in, the leader of the group carrying a laptop.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” the robotic voice said. “It seems that you will be our guests a little longer than planned.”

The contempt that voice held was terrifying.

“Either you are not worth as much as we had originally assumed, or you have been replaced with the next new thing. Either way, your ransom deadline was two days ago and as of now, nothing has been sent to secure your release. I do, however, have a message from your C.E.O., if you care to listen?”

Namjoon looked at the others, his eyes wide, and his tears barely concealed as words failed him.

“Bang…PD-nim…sent us…” he tried.

32 days, then. They had been in hell for thirty-two days, which was two days longer than they should have been. Things must be bad.

The others looked at their leader, fear and concern taking them over.

“Bang PD-nim sent us a message,” Namjoon said again. “They want us to listen.”

Slowly nodding, the boys crawled out of their various holes and sat at the table, Yoongi even joining them to sit on the nearest bed while still keeping his distance.

Sitting the computer on the table where the seven of them could see, one of the guards turned it around to show a frozen frame of their C.E.O. looking much, much worse than the last time they had seen him. It made their hearts hurt.

Dimming the lights and pushing play, the guard stepped back almost reverently as the video began.

Looking at his hands and gathering his thoughts, the boys could tell through the screen that their leader-nim was in a deep despair over their disappearance and they knew his words would be truthful. Bang PD-nim had never treated them as idols, but as people - human beings - young men that he cared for dearly. He had been very much like a father to them and on several occasions, one or all of the members had had in depth, emotional conversations with the man.

Bang Si-hyuk sounded emotionally exhausted, his tone solemn as he voiced his pleas to the camera in front of him.

“Kim Namjoon, take care of your brothers. I expect you to help me get them home safely,” he said, causing Namjoon to hang his head and cover his face with his hands.

He had already failed his hyung-nim. He hadn’t kept his brothers safe…had been powerless to stop the monsters that took them away at will for hours at a time, only returning them when they were broken shells of the men they had been before.

“Kim Seokjin, watch after your dongsaengs and help Joon-ah keep them safe.”

Jin broke down in tears as those words replayed in his head. He had betrayed the greatest trust ever bestowed upon him, not only by C.E.O. Bang, but also by his six younger brothers, all of whom had trusted him as the eldest brother to be their protector and their rock no matter what life threw at them.

“Min Yoongi, you must be brave for your maknae-deul, and show your hosts respect,” Hitman Bang said, glaring as though looking directly into Yoongi’s eyes.

“Hoseok-ah…don't forget the promise that we made. As soon as you return I owe you a vacation...”

Hoseok looked at his mentor on the screen as tears trailed silver down his cheeks.

“Park Jimin, take care of Jungkookie. You know how he tries to act brave for his hyungs…”

Jimin looked at his hands at those words. How could their founder ever doubt that he would?

‘Right,’ he thought to himself, the word cutting like a knife.

He had always been a failure, had he not? He was constantly receiving extra vocal lessons because his singing wasn’t strong enough. He had his own personal nutritionist because his measurements were never good enough. He was the only member who was in danger of being cut just two days before debut stage because something about him wasn’t quite right.

If that was all Bang PD-nim had to say to him, then Jimin knew there would be no other words of encouragement from the man. Not now, not ever.

“Kim Taehyung, promise me you won’t let Yoongi lose himself,” Bang Si-hyuk said softly. “But do not lose yourself either.”

Taehyung broke down into earth-shattering sobs when he heard his founder's message. Yoongi had lost himself, almost as soon as they had arrived, and there was nothing that could be done to bring him back. God knows Taehyung had tried…

“Jungkook-ah, PD-nim has failed you, and I'm sorry. Please forgive me. Saranghae-yo…”

“Soon I will take you away from here.”

“You will be mine…”

Sometimes the words permeated his sleep, drifting into his dreams like an intruder might an open window in a forgotten corner of a basement, squatting there, taking up residence. Jungkook tried to reject them, tried to remove them from his consciousness but they were pervasive, insistent. They were deep and gravelly, weighty in a way that he couldn't readily identify. Those words were in stark contrast to the others he heard while he slumbered unaware of the hell his body was trapped in, if only for a few hours.

“I’m sorry.”

“Forgive me.”

“I love you.”

For some reason, the softest of the sentiments frightened Jungkook the most.

Mathan watched as the words coming from the computer crushed the members of BTS. He could tell from the man's voice that he was apologetic yet trying to infuse hope into his statement. Mathan didn't need to understand Korean to know that he was telling the boys to be strong and take care of each other, but the boys of Bangtan Sonyeondan were not hearing that. The despair and pain crossing their faces was enough to tell him that hope was now a dead dream to them.

The look in Yoongi’s eyes resembled hate as he looked at the face on the computer screen. It spoke volumes as to where his feelings were. Jin just bowed his head and Mathan could see his shoulders start to shake as tears fell. Namjoon had become a statue, stone cold, stoic. Hoseok and Taehyung clung together in terror, their eyes moving from masked face to masked face as if death would come any instant. Jimin went to wrap his arms around Jungkook but the other boy fell to his knees and let out an anguished scream.

All Mathan could hear now was his father's hysterical laughter.

Part Eighteen

Chapter Notes


Part Eighteen

(Seoul, South Korea)

The same blonde reporter from ABC News again stands in front of Big Hit Entertainment, but the mood of the large crowd in front of the building is vastly different. The air is heavy with tears and anger, and the shouted demands from the crowd are almost deafening.

“David…I am here at Big Hit Entertainment where crowds of fans are demanding answers. The deadline for the ransom delivery for the return of worldwide K-pop sensation, Bangtan Sonyeondan passed five days ago, but no further information has been released to the public. There has been no word if the ransom was paid or if the members of BTS are even still alive at this point. Any and all requests for comments from Big Hit and the South Korean government have been rejected. As soon as we hear anything, we will update you. This is Karen Sanders reporting from Seoul, South Korea.”

Inside his office, the CEO of Big Hit wanted to add his roar to the one growing in volume outside. He, his staff, and the families of his boys had been arguing with every official in the government they could get to. It had taken a threat to go to the public that had finally gotten them in to see the South Korean President, but the meeting had done little good. The government was holding firm on their stance: the kidnappers were terrorists seeking to undermine the power of the government and the people of South Korea. The government would not give in to terrorist threats.

As always, ARMY was a lot smarter than anyone gave them credit for. What no one yet seemed to understand was that ARMY was a group of six million or more brains, the larger majority of them over the age of twenty with a wide range of educational levels, impressive skill sets, and the ability to work past language barriers, with very little sleep. Translators worked in carefully organized shifts to translate statements, questions and answers between the various ARMY groups, and any kind of legal documentation or other piece of material they thought would be useful.

Once the information was translated, it was released to the masses via various social media platforms where ARMY would then discuss the meaning behind the findings, or various interpretations of the translations in an attempt to find the method behind the madness. In less than 12 hours, the mystery was solved by a Twitter ARMY with a fan related screen-name who had made their IP address untraceable past a vague pinpoint of lower Midwest United States.

In 30 minutes, the tweet had been shared more than 60,000 times, the comments blown wide open, and Twitter was in danger of crashing as the news spread like wildfire, catching not only the attention of BTS' fans, but also news and media outlets worldwide.

Bang Si-hyuk had taken to sleeping on the couch in his office, afraid if he went home for just a moment, he would miss something important. Tonight, however, the only place he wanted to be was somewhere far, far away from where he was. He had underestimated ARMY. Never in his wildest dreams did he realize an army is exactly what they had created - a loyal family of fans who would, at a moment’s notice, gear up and go to war for his boys no matter who, or what they were going to fight.

Most k-pop fans were young girls who were more occupied with schoolwork and what to wear when going shopping with their friends. But as Hitman Bang read through social media accounts, he started to get an understanding of the people who stanned his boys. BTS fans were young boys and girls, college students, grown women with families of their own, fathers with respectable jobs, grandparents, art critics, actors, journalists, DJs…the list went on. He was surprised. Now almost eight million people were following the group on Twitter, millions more than before this fiasco began, and over the last several days he had noticed a variation of hash-tags about his boys. Tonight however he had been forced to unplug the phones in the office, turn off his cell phone, mute his pager, and he was now disabling his email and social media accounts. It seemed ARMY, working tirelessly, and as one, had figured out why the money had not been paid, and they were up in arms, demanding explanations, begging for a reconsideration of the determination, offering to pay the monies on their own, anything they could think of to get their family home.






Young men in the prime of their lives who have done nothing to deserve the sentence you have given them.

All of these words stuck out at the man, stabbing him in the heart as he let the public's opinion of what he had created set in. ARMY had found its armor, suited up, put its weapons in place, and were preparing to deploy. As their interim leader, it was his duty to find a way to help them get his boys back home where they belonged.

Outside his office on the street below, ABC international correspondent Karen Sanders brushed her hair back out of her face and took a stance in front of the camera, preparing to update the world on the breaking news that had come to them from Twitter. South Korea had deemed the kidnappers terrorists and as such, had condemned the members of Bangtan Sonyeondan to subsist in whatever hell they were now in, or die trying.

Standing with a group of fans, she had only one question to ask.

"Do you believe that the government should reverse its decision regarding BTS' kidnappers being declared terrorists?"

The noise was almost deafening as at least a thousand ARMY started screaming. When they had finally been brought back under control, sides were definitely being taken. A large portion backed the government for not negotiating with terrorists, but they required verification that said kidnappers were actually terrorists. Some fans thought the kidnappers should be paid regardless, stating that Bangtan Sonyeondan were a national treasure and should be treated as such. Another portion was on the fence and afraid to go either way, yet the majority of the crowds wept at the news that their beloved leaders had been condemned to hell and begged whoever had them to at least let the world know that they were alive.

“How about you?” the reporter asked, looking at a pretty little brown haired girl she had seen there since the vigils began.

The girl looked at the reporter, the camera, and the crowd before speaking, her eyes dead and her face stoic.

“I can’t begin…to imagine,” she started slowly. “What kind of tortured, sadistic soul, would think it was ok to take seven of the brightest, most beautiful people this world has ever known. I very much agree that whoever has our family are terrorists. What they are terrorists of besides humanity, I cannot say. I do not think they are driven by any religious or cultural ideal other than their abhorrent lust for money, and I do not think their greed would allow them to negotiate reasonable terms. While I cannot speak for the leaders who make the laws that we must respect and follow, I can say that…I never want to live in a world that does not have Bangtan Sonyeondan in it.”

Part Nineteen

Chapter Notes


Part Nineteen

What the fuck was this world coming to? Mathan stood in front of the steel door and hated himself, his father, and most of all the South Korean government. Because some stupid pencil pusher had decided to call them terrorists, these seven boys were now condemned to a Hell they might never escape from.

In the three days since his dear old Dad had sprung his video surprise on the guys, they had barely moved, spending all their time huddled together on the floor. With the beds bolted to the floor like the table, Namjoon had pulled a few of the mattresses off and all of the blankets and tossed them into the opposite corner from Yoongi’s nest. And that is where they all laid piled together like beaten puppies waiting to die.

Of course his father thought it was fucking hilarious and kept talking about the long game. It made Mathan sick remembering that conversation.


Mathan stood at attention before his father, ingrained military habits hard to break, even now. The deadline was well passed, and they had received word that the South Korean government would not allow the money to be paid to kidnappers now labeled terrorists. It was time to cut bait and run.

“It would be a simple mission. I can take three men, we blindfold and restrain the boys, take them to Lexington or Louisville and leave them in a sparsely populated area while you and rest head out of the country. Once the boys are dumped, we meet up with you and plan a new mission.”

His father leaned back in the chair, looked at Mathan and asked, “What makes you think this mission is over?”

“Because the money isn’t coming,” Mathan replied, “and what good is keeping those boys if there isn’t going to be a pay out.”

“Oh son,” the man before him said, sounding amused, “you never were one to think of the long game. I always figured that something would keep the money from being delivered the first time.”

Mathan’s father flipped the laptop he had been looking at around and on the screen, was the CEO of Big Hit Entertainment in front of the international press begging for the lives of BTS.

“I am sorry that I must disappoint him. Unfortunately, I will be sending him dead Bangtan Sonyeondan boys.” The man laughed as if he had told the greatest joke in the world. “And then, my dear son, when enough time has gone by, I will resurrect those boys and this time they will pay the price we ask.”

It was all Mathan could do not to throw up right then and there. This man was true evil and he was running out of time if he was going to figure out a way to get those boys their freedom.


Shaking himself from his thoughts Mathan adjusted his gear and opened the door to the prison he guarded, looking at the human pile and wrinkling his nose. Had no one taken a bath?

“Gentleman,” he said, taking a military stance and looking in their direction with his expressionless mask.

When the boys did not move Mathan hit the steel door with his fist, making a dent and causing the dog pile to jump and cower against the back wall.

“Now that I have your attention,” he said as he flexed his hand, “it is time we practice personal hygiene. And clean this pig pen. I will be kind and allow you to do something with this place before you shower so you are not required to do it twice. If I catch any of you, or any part of this room, in this condition again, I will hose you down myself and find suitable punishment to ensure it does not happen again, am I understood?”

After a contemptuous glare Mathan exited the room, cussing about privileged little boys and babysitting on his one day off when he had specific plans to get shitface drunk. Ten minutes later he returned with a fully stocked cleaning cart and pushed it to the center of the room.

“I don’t care how this room gets cleaned, or who does what, but I will sit here until it passes my inspection. If it fails, you six will do it again,” he said, his tone firm. “The one in the corner may stay there until it is time to shower at which time he will participate in our group activities. Every piece of bedding is to be piled by the door. When all of it is accounted for I will provide you with more.”

The boys stood there unmoving for a second before Mathan stood tall, crossing his arms over his chest.

He noticed Jin and Namjoon studying him and he briefly wondered why but was distracted by Jin moving, looking resolute, and saying something to his brothers (they were brothers, Mathan had decided, blood relation or not) that had them muttering to him with bowed heads and following their oldest hyungs commands. Jungkook and Taehyung started piling bedding and straightening their mattress pile while Jin and Hoseok started on dishes and cleaning out the fridge. Namjoon and Jimin started piling clothes and slowly the room came together. The entire time Mathan watched each of them, paying careful attention to how they worked in teams, how they moved, and the way they were able to wordlessly communicate between themselves. All of this information would be useful to everyone involved when he figured out how to spring them from this hell.

When the room was done Mathan threw the bedding out into the hall and returned with enough personal items to wash a small army.

“Two by two,” he said, sitting the box down on the table. “I don’t care how you do it, I don’t care if you fuck the hell out of each other in the shower or wash each other off, but there are two bathrooms and it’s my day off, k?” he said, looking at them all. “I want you squeaky clean, and in fresh clothes. I know you nasty people haven’t changed in days. I’ll just burn whatever you have on so don’t worry about it. And I will smell you to make sure you are clean.”

The boys looked at him wide eyed and nodded and for once he had no idea what they were thinking.

“Kim Namjoon?” he asked, looking at the man who looked at him in turn.

“A word, if you would?”

When the man approached him, crossing his arms over his chest in what Mathan knew was an attempt to look more imposing, Mathan had to bite back the snort that almost came out.

“When your friend has cleaned up, I need to examine him again. Nothing…bad. He can keep his pants on. I just need to check his movement and his bruising. He can’t stay in his little nest forever. It isn’t good for his body condition. You and one of your other friends may come with him if it makes you feel better. But don’t get any ideas, because I don’t feel like fighting.”

Namjoon looked at the man for a moment before nodding, obviously agreeing to the terms of his request. Turning around Namjoon walked over to Jin, whispering something in his ear which had the man looking at Mathan and nodding. Once that was addressed Namjoon gave the orders out to wash up and change and six of the men went to the closets pulling out clothes and towels before walking over to the box and grabbing various personal hygiene items.

Jin stood under the shower head letting the hot water run over his body. It felt good to let the dirt and oil wash off his skin like a snake shedding. All of them had been in shock since watching the video and they had all just stopped. Eating...bathing...moving...all of it had become an effort when all of them just wanted to sleep and pray that when they woke, the nightmare would be over.

So many times over the last three days when he opened his eyes every fiber of his being prayed to be looking up at the ceiling of his dorm room, listening to Yoongi and Taehyung fight over who would wake him to fix food. Jin bowed his head under the shower head and let the water stream down his back as tears washed down his face, remembering the conversation he and his brothers had had once their kidnappers had left.


“He…he can’t get the money…can he?” Jungkook asked, sounding lost.

“I don’t think that’s it,” Namjoon said.

“My father would pay it in a heartbeat,” Jin said. “We…we have that kind of money. Or…he could…borrow it…”

“ARMY would pay it,” Hoseok said.

“I think they are being advised not to pay,” Yoongi said. “There is no gaurentee we will be returned even if they do.”

“Are we gonna die here, hyung?” Jungkook asked, his voice small.

It was a thought that had haunted them all, but not one they had yet voiced.

“No,” Namjoon said firmly. “It won’t get that far. Bang PD-nim just needs a few more days. Let us give him that.”


So lost he had been in the memory, he jumped in startled fear when he heard a robotic voice come from the other side of the curtain separating the bathroom from their common room prison.

“Are you done in there or do I need to come help you wash up?”

Jin let out a squeaked, “Andweh” while hurriedly grabbing a towel to wrap around his wet form.

“I…be…out…second.” He yelled in broken English.

He passed Jimin, who was sitting on the toilet waiting his turn, with angry strides and glared at the white expressionless face staring at him. Jin could not stop the “Gae-sae-kki” that flew past his lips and stomped over to Jungkook, telling the other to stand in front of him and hold his towel up so he could try and pull clothes onto his damp body.

Mathan had to remind himself that the man before him knew nothing about him, or his mother, and that he had thrown the term as a way to get subtle vengeance because he must not realize Mathan had looked the word up and then called his sister to confirm it was right.

“I believe,” he started as he faced the man, his tone hard, “that the correct term is ‘sshib-sekki’, Kim Seokjin. My mother was actually a very kind, very selfless woman, and I would appreciate it if you did not dishonor her memory by calling her a bitch.”

Jin paused with his shirt halfway down his body as he looked at the guard before him wide eyed, the other members in the room turning their attention to him as well, various looks of horror on their faces.

Mathan just smirked even though he knew the boys could not see, instead straightening up to show his full size.

“Don’t they have Google where you are from?” Mathan asked the boys, a smirk in his voice. “Or have you forgotten everything here is recorded? Every gae saekki, every hidden tryst under the blankets, every conversation about making a run for it. And every word you say is carefully translated and confirmed by our people. So, do not think we can’t understand what you are saying. Because I understand every single word, Bangtan Sonyeondan. And at any given time, I can tell the morons in charge exactly what is going on.”

“You…speak?” Jimin asked as he turned to look at Mathan.

“That is none of your business,” Mathan said firmly. “I have my ways and that is all you need to know. Now finish your damn showers. I’ll find someone else to babysit you. I have better things to do than sit here and be insulted.”

If Mathan had been in his right mind, he would never have left the boys at a moment like this, in the position they were in; but he was angry, and tired, and sore, and so he stormed from the room barking orders as he departed the compound. He would regret this moment for the rest of his life.

Staring at the door the boys jumped as three guards stepped in, a menacing presence about them. While Hoseok and Jimin took showers, Jin and Namjoon stood guard of their hyungjaes, tag teaming the positions they were in and switching out when the two got out of the showers. After they were done Hoseok stood guard outside of Jungkooks shower, eyeing the guards with contempt while Namjoon and Seokjin helped Yoongi shower, examining his bruises by themselves and secretly daring the asshole guard to touch their friend again. That one was dangerous, and they now knew they would have to watch their words.

Once everyone was showered the guards gathered up the clothing and ordered the boys to cook and to eat, all while under a watchful eye, only leaving them to themselves after they had cleared their plates and cleaned their area back up.

Late that night or possibly early the next morning a shadow slipped quietly into the room that held BTS. None of the figures sleeping in the room heard the steel door open or the man Carl slip in as silent as a serpent. He stood looking at all the sleeping boys reflected in the green shine of the night vision glasses he wore beneath his mask. His gaze then focused on the bed closest to him and the two young men sleeping, one curled around the back of the other.

Carl had been quiet, keeping his distance because of Mathan always watching him, but now that the ransom deadline had passed and there had been no money, he was tired of waiting. Mathan had left the compound for the night, and as such, there was no one to keep the monsters at bay. It was time to take what he had been longing for this entire month.

He took a step towards the bed, freezing when Jimin shuddered in his sleep and rolled over, putting his back to the one that Carl had come for, Jungkook. He smiled as if the universe had given him a gift and pulling the knife from his waist, he struck.

Jungkook was yanked from his restless sleep by a gloved hand over his mouth and a silver knife flashing before his sleep dazed eyes.

“Not a sound,” the alien voice whispered, “or I slit your boyfriends throat.”

The young Korean man didn’t completely understand the English words, but he did understand the knife pointing at Jimins neck. He helplessly nodded his head and didn’t resist when the dark figure pulled him from the bed and dragged him towards the partially open door. Out in the hallway Carl pushed Jungkook against the wall, making sure that the smaller man could see the knife still in his hands.

“I have been waiting a long time for this, angel.”

Carl stroked his gloved hand along Kookies neck and throat, savoring the shudder that passed through the young mans body. Jungkook was helpless as tears rolled down his cheeks; he knew what was coming. Night after night he had listened and wept at the screams Yoongi only released during his sleep. He wanted to howl and scream himself, but the thought of that knife pointed as Jimins throat kept him silent. He could taste blood flowing from the lip he was savagely biting to hold the screams in. He wanted to throw up when he felt a hand push under the waistband of the sweats he was wearing and start to yank them off his waist.

Jungkooks eyes flew open wide as he suddenly fell to the concrete floor. At first the sight before him didn’t make any sense. Taehyung was clinging to the back of the figure, growling like an animal and trying to dig his clawed fingers into the mask of his attacker. Jungkook didn’t know whether to scream for help or join in the attack, and so he sat there quietly as he watched his sweet, innocent hyung viciously attack the guard, ripping the mask from his face and clawing chunks of skin from the man. For an eternity Jungkook sat there, too scared to do much else until Carl let out a roar, blood pouring down his face and neck.

Months from now Taehyung would say that he had watched the man watching his maknae for far too long and had finally gotten tired of it, choosing to act and try to preserve Jungkooks innocence…something he had been unable to do for Yoongi.

Taehyung had always been a light sleeper and had heard the door open, but chose to remain still as to not clue in the intruder. When he had seen what was happening he crawled from his bed, catching the door before it closed all the way and waiting for the right time to strike.

Right time or not, Carls roar had caught the attention of the other guards and they came running, dragging Taehyung from the monster and down the hall as another tried to help Carl and yet another picked Jungkook up by the scruff of his neck, throwing him back in the room and slamming the door, causing the other five members to wake in a panic only to see Jungkook screaming and clawing at the door, his shirt torn, his hair disheveled, and tears streaming down his face as he called for his savior.

Part Twenty

Part Twenty

Carl was doing his best to staunch the blood flowing down his face as Smith dragged the prancing little diva/demon down the hallway. He had been so fucking close to tasting heaven and that little shit had ruined everything.

“Throw him in the room where you and Davis fucked his little friend,” he growled, grabbing up a rag and putting it to his bleeding cheek.

Once Smith had tossed Taehyung into the room Carl ordered the others to close the door and wait outside.

“This little piece of shit and I are going to have a nice long talk,” he had said with a menacing tone.

Taehyung had barely regained his bearings after being thrown to the hard ground when he was picked up and tossed into the wall. Head ringing and dazed he could not avoid the fist that hit his jaw like a ton of bricks. He couldn’t even make a sound as a hand wrapped itself in his hair and banged his head not once or even twice but three times against the wall.

In danger of losing consciousness Taehyung wrapped his arms around his head in an effort to protect himself, but that just left the rest of his body open. And Carl made the most of it by kicking the downed boy several times in the stomach and then back when Taehyung curled in on himself.

He had no idea how long the beating went on for. There was no part of his body that this monster had not hit, punched, kicked or stomped. He was sure that some toes and fingers were broken, and his vision kept fading in and out in shades of gray and black. He needed to throw up but could not for fear of what else would come out of his mouth; blood, teeth or even his tongue where said teeth had chomped down after the first hit.

Taehyung moaned in agony as he was lifted by his throat and slammed against the wall again, but there wasn’t another fist to the face. When he opened blurry eyes, he was looking in the face of a man, not an expressionless mask.

Taehyung started to shake his head back and forth in fear as a low growling voice spoke.

“Not a word, you little fucker. Not a word about seeing my face or I will finish what I started!”

Taehyung couldn’t have answered even if he wanted as he finally gave into the darkness calling him. But before it claimed him entirely he heard the door bang open and a deep, commanding voice yell, “WHAT THE FUCKING HELL DID YOU DO!!”

It took a moment for the five to kick their brains in to gear, Yoongi only observing the others as Jimin cleared the dog pile first and ran to his lover falling beside him and restraining him from beating the door as Namjoon and Jin looked around trying to figure out why their maknae was screaming for their brother.

“Taehyung!” Namjoon exclaimed softly, all color draining from his face when he realized the boy was missing.

“Jungkookah, where is Taehyung?” he asked, starting to panic.

All the boy could do was cling to his lover, sobs wracking his body as he called his brothers name over and over, saying it was all his fault but not explaining how or why.

The three older boys looked at each other before Jin stood and pulled Jimin up, then Jungkook as he directed the two back to a single bed, laying his maknae down before telling Jimin to lay down with him and get him to sleep while the others tried to figure out what had happened.

By the time he got back to the door Yoongi had crawled from his dog pile and was pressed against the door, his eyes closed in concentration.

“Yo—” Namjoon started only to be cut off by the man holding a finger to his lips and pressing his ear against the door harder for a moment before signaling his leader over to do the same.

“Wha---” Namjoon started before he heard it too. Something being broken and slammed. “Is that?”

“They took Taehyung, hyung,” Jungkook said softly from the bed he was in. “He…I…”

“Who took Taehyungie?” Jin asked, rushing to his dongsaengs side.

“The…the guards. They came and…” Jungkook just shook his head, refusing to tell the tale of what had happened out of the shame that he now felt.

“Where is Taehyung?” Jin asked firmly, looking the boy in the eye.

Jungkook shrugged as he started crying again. “They drug him away…”

All of a sudden ALL the boys heard huge crashes and bangs in the hall and everyone was at the door pressed to it listening.

“What the hell?” Yoongi asked, wide eyed as it sounded like the building was coming down as a deep, angry voice boomed “What the fucking hell did you DO!?!”

“That…” Namjoon gasped

“That was human,” Jin said, his eyes wide too at the voice.

What exactly was going on for all this commotion? Was their brother a part of it? Was he okay?

Mathan had stayed at the bar until around 2, managing to make it back to the compound safe. It had taken him a minute to get out of the truck and through the doors but as soon as he heard Carl screaming and things breaking he hit a dead run as he followed the sounds to the room he knew had been used to punish Min Yoongi.

Wretching the door open he didn’t even care that he had none of his gear on as he saw his uncle beating the life out of one of the boys.

“What the fuck?” he exclaimed, pulling Carl off the now comatose boy and staring all around him.

Mathan only now registered the unconscious bodies of guards he had knocked flying on his run in, and, still seeing red he grabbed Carl by the collar of his shirt, slamming him against the same wall that was now splattered with Kim Taehyungs blood.

“What did you do?” he growled, getting right up in the other mans face, barely noticing that he was mysteriously injured. “What could he possibly have done to you to deserve being beat to death?”

Mathans demeanor was deadly, and if he did not need to check the boy in a hump on the floor, he would beat Carl to death tonight. He was still going to break him, just to teach them all a lesson that he was not to be fucked with.

Carl smirked and spat in his nephews face, blood and saliva flying.

After that Mathan only saw red. Grabbing Carl tighter he flung the man around like a rag doll, taking out a cabinet, the cot, and a surgical tray with the mans body before slamming his head against the wall and finally throwing him onto the floor as he went unconscious, blood flowing from his nose, mouth, a fresh gash above his eye, and his arm laying at an odd angle. Stumbling back as the liquor took effect again, and as his adrenaline drained, Mathan dropped down by Taehyung checking for a pulse and wondering how seriously the boy was injured but knowing he would not be able to lift him on his own.

Falling out into the hallway Mathan made it to his feet, dropping three more guards that came running as he made his way towards the prison cell, knowing that he would have to ask this boys family for help saving him. Carl was definitely going to die. ALL of them were going to die. As soon as BTS was safe Mathan would kill every last monster here.

Stumbling along the hallway he kicked aside a body or two before stopping at the steel door. Mathan knew what he was going to do next was cutting his own throat and no doubt dear old Dad would lose his mind; but alcohol and guilt made bad decisions and him good bedfellows.

Namjoon and Yoongi were nearly brained by the steel door opening, both scooting back just in time. From their prone positions on the floor it took a moment to gaze up into the face of a man; a very tall, well-built, handsome looking man.

Neither had a chance to speak as the man reached down, grabbed Namjoon’s shoulder and hauled him to his feet. Yoongi scuttled backwards in fear as the man pushed his leader through the open door.

All of them froze in surprise when the man pointed at Jin, commanding him in passable Korean, “Come with me, Taehyung-ssi has been hurt and I am going to need your help with him.”

It never crossed Jins mind not to follow the command. All he heard was his precious hyungjae was hurt and needed him. Running into the hall he found Namjoon starring at the bodies littering the floor around them and frowning.

“Do you think he did this?” Jin whispered, looking at the broken and bleeding bodies lying at their feet.

“Who else?” Namjoon said as he jerked his head towards the man closing the door.

Mathan motioned for the two to follow him, never glancing at the unconscious bodies he stepped over.

When they got to the room next door, Jin cried out at the sight of Taehyung struggling to sit up as he spit out blood and what looked like a couple of teeth.

“Taehyung-ah!” the man exclaimed as he slid through pools of blood to his maknaes side.

Taehyung wobbled on his hands as he fought to keep himself upright. Had he ever felt this kind of pain? He didn’t think it was possible, but everything hurt, even his hair and eyelashes. He so wanted to surrender to the welcoming darkness again but for some reason pain kept him aware and conscious. The only relief was the sweet sound of his hyung calling his name. Taehyung tried to smile and speak to Jin but his throat closed remembering that voice telling him to stay quiet and not say a word.

All he could do was reach his arms up like a small child begging to be held.

Mathan leaned heavily against the door frame, his hand covering his face as he tried to clear his mind of the fog the alcohol from earlier had caused. He knew he would be in nine kinds of shit for everything that had happened tonight, and he was almost positive one of the guards in the hallway was dead, and Carl needed to be moved from the bloody heap he was on the floor, but Mathan couldn’t seem to get his body to work. He had no time to sober up which meant chugging alcohol to get his buzz back so he could at least somewhat function as needed. Shaking his head he also realized he had just signed his death warrant. Every one of the targets had seen him without the mask, had heard him speak, and knew he was more proficient in Hangul than he had let on. He was in this for the long run now, and as the captain of his plans, he would have no other choice but to go down with his ship.

“I need…” Mathan started, swaying slightly where he stood before dropping into a crouch, his head falling in to both hands. “I need you to help me move him to the room down the hall and…I’ll need your help gathering supplies…”

Kim Namjoon didn’t have to ask what was wrong with the man. He could smell the alcohol as it burned his nose. Kim Seokjin smelled it too as his nose wrinkled against the putrid stench.

“You’re drunk,” Namjoon said flatly.

“You have any better ideas?” Mathan asked, dropping his hands and looking at the two, his eyes tired.

It was not lost on either man how kind this mans eyes looked, or how broken and defeated he appeared, and the fact that he had come before them without his gear had their minds asking more questions than they had the answers to.

Standing up Mathan walked over to the busted cabinet and grabbed a bottle of water, emptying it in one go before turning and kicking the bloody pile on the floor, satisfied when it groaned.

“Wha…” Jin asked as he and Namjoon realized it was another person.

“That’s Carl,” Mathan said, no longer caring who was exposed. “Just leave him. He’s too stubborn to die and I don’t have enough time to kill him properly right now.”

Shaking his head and coming to a bit Mathan carefully approached Taehyung who almost hurt himself worse in an attempt to get away from the man who looked like the monster who had attacked him. Hanging his head Mathan sighed as he looked back up at his helpers.

“Be careful picking him up. He’s probably really broken and I can’t fix internal bleeding,” he said, looking at Namjoon, guessing from his build he was the strongest of the two.

Nodding and bending down Namjoon carefully picked his dongsaeng up, uttering an apology when Taehyung winced.

Satisfied with what was left in the room Mathan turned and lead the way down the hallway kicking a few groaning figures as he unlocked the triage room and opened the door, stepping aside and letting Namjoon in with the patient, instructing him to lay him on the bed.

“Get his clothes off,” Mathan said as he started rummaging through the cabinets and drawers, pulling out bowls and towels, bandages and salves, and anything else he happened to come across.

“What are you doing to him?” Namjoon asked in a guarded manner.

“I told you,” Mathan said, very little patience in his tone. “I’m going to do my best to fix him. I have no idea how long Carl had him before I got here. I shouldn’t have left. I’m sorry.”

Jin looked at the man before looking at his brother.

“What…is…your name?” Jin asked.

Mathan turned around at that, leaning against the counter and looking at Jin with sad eyes, shaking his head.

“I have no name,” he said. “I am a monster. A man in a mask. Nothing more.”

Jin froze at that, recalling the note he had flushed some weeks before from a man in a mask promising to save them.

Turning back around Mathan finished grabbing the supplies as Namjoon and Seokjin ripped Taehyungs clothes from him, covering him up with a blanket that had been provided, and sitting on either side of him as the man lay silently, tears streaming down his cheeks.

Before Mathan even began he filled a syringe with a mild pain killer hoping it was enough to take the edge off while he examined the boy. Applying a tourniquet he once again made quick work of administering a pain killer and antibiotic before setting to work. By just looking at the boy Mathan could tell several things were either broken or dislocated, and had he not required immediate attention Mathan would have left and put a bullet in the sick bastards head.

Deciding to work his way up Mathan felt along the boys legs, to his hips, satisfied that nothing was injured there but somewhat concerned at the boys total silence. He knew he could speak and with some amount of trepidation he wondered what had happened to the boy, deciding he would be watching the cameras later to see the full story.

Once Mathan reached Taehyungs sides and abdomen the boy stayed silent but his whole body came off of the cot as his mouth opened in a silent scream.

“Why isn’t he saying anything?” Mathan asked in concern as he looked at the crew before him. “I need him to tell me what hurts and where or I can’t treat him.”

Namjoon turned to Taehyung and looked at him in concern as well.

“Tae-ya,” he said softly. “What happened?” he asked. “Where does it hurt?”

Taehyung just shook his head, refusing to speak for fear of the man who had attacked him, yet more tears streaming silver down his cheeks.

Furrowing his brow Mathan stood and felt along the boys neck, collarbones, and jaw, not finding any reason he could not speak, but discovering that one collarbone was fractured, and being unsure if his jaw was dislocated or broken due to the amount of swelling that had already occurred.

Making quick work of the rest of the exam Mathan frowned as he counted up the damage in his head. The boy NEEDED to go to a hospital for treatment and tests but Mathan knew that his father was sadistic enough to never let that happen.

“Stay here with him,” Mathan said softly. “I need to get some things I don’t have here.”

Giving the three of them one last sad and concerned look Mathan departed the make shift triage for his own room, grabbing all the medical supplies he had in his personal stores and heading back.

Filling up a syringe of Morphine Mathan gave the boy another shot, filling up a sink of hot water and handing Namjoon and Seokjin two cloths and instructing them to wash him off before handing over a pair of oversized sweats for them to put on him. Once he felt the medicine had taken effect Mathan pushed and prodded a bit more, trying to detect any sort of internal damage but finding none. Making quick work of his torso Mathan wrapped Taehyungs bruised and cracked ribs, relocating his displaced shoulder and bracing his arm to his body to stabilize his fractured collarbone. Once done there Mathan had Jin apply an ice pack to the boys swollen jaw while he felt through his head trying to find any cuts.

“His hair has to go,” Mathan finally said. “I need to sew him up but…he has too much hair and it could cause the wounds to get infected. Especially since showering won’t really be an option for him for a while.”

“No…” Namjoon said, his eyes closing.

“I don’t have a choice,” Mathan said. “It’s just hair. It will grow back by the time anyone finds you.”

The look the three shared told how desperate they all felt and with a small nod from the boys Mathan departed once again for his room, retrieving his clippers and returning.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered to the boy as he clicked on the clippers, shaving the unconscious boy bald before cleaning off his head and sewing up two good sized gashes, applying a bandage to his whole head and wrapping the boy in a blanket.

“Someone will need to stay up with him. Make sure to wake him up every hour and ask him a question. His name or what his favorite color is…who you are…something easy. If he can answer it, let him go back to sleep. If not try to wake him up more and ask him again. If he will not wake up or won’t answer your questions, or if you notice any deep bruising or odd swelling, if he loses blood in the bathroom or from throwing up, I’ll be in the control room today. I’m sure you will be able to get my attention.”

The boys nodded at that.

“The medicine will wear off in about six hours so…I’ll bring him something else then. Be sure not to jostle him too much and do not let him move on his own. He has some broken ribs and his collarbone is fractured. I bandaged him like that so he would be immobile and hopefully he can heal. There is no way I can get him to a doctor. But Carl won’t fuck with any of you again as long as I am here. I swear it.”

“Thank you,” Jin said, looking at the man before him with compassion and true greatfulness.

“Won’t you get in trouble?” Namjoon asked in confusion.

“We’re all dead men walking anyway,” Mathan said. “One day soon you will be free and everyone here will be killed on sight. I’m not laboring under any delusions here.”

“But…you…help…us?” Jin said.

“Not enough,” Mathan said with a sad, soft smile as he stood and gently picked the broken Taehyung up, carrying him back to the room and carefully laying him down in the bed closest to the bathroom door, checking his pulse and tucking him in, a silent prayer mumbled as he checked for a temperature before looking each boy in the face and walking out the door.

Part Twenty-One

Chapter Notes


Part Twenty-One

Jimin had sang Jungkook to sleep only to have him wake half an hour later as he shot from the bed and into a corner, looking around the room like a feral animal and screaming at everyone not to touch him. It had taken Jimin twenty minutes to get his lover back to his senses and another ten minutes to get him back in bed. Too scared to ask about what had happened to cause a reaction like this, Jimin held Jungkook close and rocked him back to sleep, tears streaming down his own face as Kookie whimpered and shuddered against him, obviously seeing something in his sleep that no one else knew.

Some time later Jimin turned his head to look at his hyung laying next to him.

“Hoseok hyung,” he said softly. “Something…something bad happened, didn’t it?”

Hoseok was looking at the ceiling grinding his jaw and only nodded.

The boys woke much later to the door softly opening, Hoseok and Jimin shooting up prepared to attack until they realized their hyungjaes were back with Taehyung and the unmasked guard from before who was still unmasked.

Namjoon and Seokjin looked exhausted beyond imagination, something in their souls broken. It was enough to bring Yoongi from his nest in the far corner out of concern for what had happened while the motley crew was gone. Keeping their eyes on the guard holding a bundle they assumed was Taehyung the boys who had remained in the room were taken aback by how careful this man was with their brother and how gentle he was in laying the boy down and tucking him in.

“Remember,” he said softly as he looked at the young boy in the bed. “Every hour. Something easy. Do not feed him until I tell you that you can. If the medicine wears off before I come back, break something. If anyone comes in here without me, protect yourselves however you can. Protect this child. Protect that one over there who is supposed to be sleeping,” he said as he looked up and made eye contact with Kookie who was sitting up in bed wide eyed.

“Is…” Jimin asked, unable to finish the sentence, unsure of what he was even going to ask.

“What happened?” Hoseok asked, the color draining from his face.

“I’ll let you know as soon as I figure that out,” Mathan said, his expression dark.

“Will he die?” came Jungkooks soft, scared voice.

Mathan closed his eyes at that, sending up a silent prayer that these boys still had a God to save them, even if he himself did not.

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “I only treated what I could see. If he has damage to his organs…”

Mathan looked at each boy in turn before departing the room and slamming the door shut behind him.

The six boys remained frozen, staring at their brother in the bed by the bathroom, the light from the two rooms illuminating Taehyungs almost translucent skin which was marred with deeply colored bruises, gashes, and swelling.

“What…” Yoongi asked, walking up to the side of the bed and kneeling by the man his heart still loved.

Tears started streaming down Jungkooks face as he walked up to the other side of his hyung, kneeling slowly as his hands hovered over the unconscious man.

“Why…” he gasped as he knelt against the frame of the bed. “WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!?” he wailed as his whole body shook.

Namjoon and Seokjin just looked away, the memory of their dongsaeng broken forever etched in their mind.

Hoseok took in the scene before him and slowly approached the bed as well, removing the covers from around Taehyungs head and gasping at the bandage there.

“The…he…” Namjoon tried to say, the tears finally starting to fall.

“That guard saved our Taehyung-ies's life,” Seokjin said. “Remember that before you judge anything.”

“His hair…” Hoseok whispered.

“Will grow back,” Jin said firmly. “I lost count at thirty stitches in the back of his head and…he can’t shower so…”

Jungkook looked up at that before slowly getting to his knees and pulling the covers back, his hands covering his mouth as he took in Taehyungs fully bandaged torso, all of them noticing how one arm was wrapped to his body.

“The guard said…he had some broken ribs and…his collarbone is fractured so…” Namjoon said. “He said that will keep it all stabilized…”

Yoongi stared numbly at the man before him, unable to process everything he was seeing. He had failed not only his brother, but his lover, and no one seemed to have any answers as to how the boy had gotten this way.

“I…” Kookie said, standing up and backing away, horror written all over his face. “I…did…me…”

“Jungkookie?” Jimin asked in confusion.

“My…my fault. I…he…I did this…”

“Jungkookah?” Namjoon asked, tilting his head to consider the boy.

“That…that guard…pulled me out and…Taehyung-hyung…I didn’t know and…I was scared…”

Acting as one both Jin and Jimin swept Jungkook up into their tight embrace. They moved him away from the bed where Taehyung lay and sat him between them, keeping their arms encircled around the shaking youth. For the first time in his life Jin was finding it hard to keep rage from clouding his vision and showing on his voice.

“Kookie-ah…we can guess what that evil piece of shit had planned,” he said softly.

Jimin jerked in surprise at the foul language coming from their eldest hyung but understood completely where it was coming from. He wanted to scream and howl in rage himself at the thought of that filthy animal putting his hands on his beloved Jungkook.

“Chagiyah…” he whispered turning Jungkooks tear-stained face towards his. “Nothing that happened this night was your fault. Not that animal putting his hands on you or Taehyung attacking him.”

Jimin looked helplessly at Jin seeking to find the right words that would comfort his terrified lover.

“Jimin-ah is right, Kookie. Anyone of us would have done the exact same thing if we had been in his place. As hard as it will be, you must gather your strength because Taehyung will need all of us to be his strength and shield against the evil we all face right now.”

Jin stood and pushed both boys back until they lay curled up together in a tight ball on the bed. He then walked over to the others gathered around their fallen hyung and spoke in a fierce voice to Namjoon.

“We have no more time…we must fight and escape before one of us dies in this place.”

Part Twenty-Two

Chapter Notes

The authors of this story would like to thank everyone who took the time to leave a kudo or comment. Your kind gestures and words inspire us more than you know to keep writing this story, and as always, we hope that you continue to enjoy it.


Part Twenty-Two

The night was quiet now; the others had all fallen into a light restless sleep as far as Yoongi could tell. Namjoon had made him promise to wake them in an hour so they could check on Taehyung as that man had told them to.

Yoongi, still wrapped in the security of his blanket, his face just barely visible, didn't care that tears slipped down his face as he took the hand not covered in bandages in his own, laying his forehead on it.

“Please, my love…you must not leave me alone in this dark world that I am trapped in. There is only light here for me when you smile. How else would I live without you, Tae-ya?” he whispered. “An ugly flower still craves the light and beauty of the sun. YOU...are my sun....my whole world...I should have protected you..."

Yoongi could not keep from begging as he wept at Taehyung’s bedside. In a harsh choked voice he began to sing, “Love is not over…over…love is not over.”

Not all of the others were sleeping. Hoseok was awake and watching his brothers. The raw pain in Yoongis voice was like a knife in the dancer/rappers soul. He had clung to the others the whole time they had been locked in this living nightmare, always staying silent and letting his hyungs take all the pain.

‘No fucking longer’ the young man growled to himself, fists clenching painfully under the thin sheet covering him and Namjoon.

The next time those monsters came looking for one of his family, Hoseok was going to visit hell upon them.

Dorian had spent the evening watching the entertaining drama that had played out before his cameras, so he wasn’t surprised when Mathan stormed into the room he used as a makeshift office.

“You, my dear son, are becoming somewhat of a disappointment to me.” Dorian drawled as his son walked up to the desk. “Letting yourself be seen by those boys, not to mention the damage you visited upon your fellow team-mates.”

Mathan stopped short at the desk, taking in the laptop his father was watching. He could see himself in the playback taking out Smith and then Davis before pounding into Carl. He watched himself lean over Taehyung then go after the others to help him.

“I didn’t realize that you were watching us as well as your cash cow,” Mathan said as he tried, and failed, to inject the right amount of sarcasm into his voice. “Carl was beating the crap out of one of them for reasons I don’t know and I figured you might be upset if one of your investments got dead.”

His father laughed and rewound the video, letting Mathan see Carl go into the boys’ room and then return dragging out a frightened looking Jungkook. He felt his stomach turn as he watched Carl assault the young man. He felt the same surprise that Jungkook and Carl must have felt when Taehyung sprang into action.

Glaring at his father, Mathan demanded, “If you were watching this why didn’t you stop him!”

“Now, why would I stop Carl from having a bit of sport? He wouldn’t have hurt the boy much.” Dorian smirked for a moment but then anger crossed his face. “Because of your actions I have had to call in a few favors to clean this mess up.”

Standing, Dorian he walked around the deck.

“There will be a doctor here to look at the boy Taehyung in the morning and some extra crew members to help replace the wounded and one you killed. I suggest son that you go get some rest and clean yourself up. Things will be getting very interesting in the coming weeks...”

Dorian laughed as Mathan stormed out.

The members of BTS all jerked awake from the various stages of sleep with the opening of the steel door to their prison. In walked several men, all without any masks on and that terrified the guys most of all. Was this finally the end? Would they all now die? Their bodies left in some hole to rot away?

Jimin wrapped himself tighter around Jungkook, forcing him face first into his neck. If death was coming for them he didn’t want the other to see it coming. He closed his own eyes and whispered, “Always together, my heart. Always together.”

Both Namjoon and Yoongi moved to Taehyungs bed and Mathan was surprised to see Yoongi take the unconscious boys hand in his. Jin was cradling Hoseok in his embrace and whispering to him. To Mathan it sounded like the Lord’s Prayer but in Korean.

“Such shy little rabbits, aren’t they…”

The robotic voice coming from his father who still wore his mask and voice box made Mathan grit his teeth in irritation. He was trying to keep himself separate from these new men as a hint to the guys that he wasn’t part of them. He knew that Jin and Namjoon had no real reason to trust him except for the care that he had given to Yoongi and Taehyung; and with his father standing here Mathan couldn’t afford to tip his hand anymore than he already had.

“My…my...those two are just beautiful.” The smallest man in the group said as he looked at the oldest hyungs.

Carrying a medical bag and waving in some portable medical equipment, he approached the two causing Hoseok and Jin reared back in fear and disgust.

Mathan was hard pressed not to move from his spot and kill the man where he stood. He knew this man and the sick things he enjoyed doing to his victims, having seen them when they had been tossed away like broken dolls. In fact any one of the new crew that his father had called in would no doubt enjoy taking these boys and breaking them in pursuit of their sick games.

The man ignored Taehyung for the moment in favor of turning and leering at Jungkook and Jimin.

“Hmm…I can see why my friend has such a desire for this one.” He said as he waved a finger at Jungkook, laughing when the young man tried to hide himself in his lovers arms. He laughed even harder when Jimin growled at him, baring his teeth.

The man finally looked over to Taehyung, then turned and spoke to Dorian.

“You will need to clear the room so I can set up the equipment and examine this young man. It shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours. I am sure there is somewhere you can house the pretty little rabbits until I am done.”

Mathan could not and would not hold his tongue any longer, not knowing these men like he did.

“All the boys stay together,” he said firmly, a storm brewing in his blue eyes. “I will stay as well to keep them in order. But I suggest that the others leave. Less chance of problems.”

As he spoke Mathan starred at his father, telling him without words that blood would flow if push came to shove. Grunting, Dorian waved the men out of the room leaving only himself, Mathan, BTS, and the monster that called itself a doctor.

Late that night Mathan sat in the control room, an ice cold beer in one hand, and an ice pack in the other. Him and the psycho scientist that had been brought in to take care of Taehyung had had words in his fathers office and the sick fuck had almost ended up dead. Mathan had not gotten off so easily for that offense. Whack job belonged to the Russians and as such punishment for touching him had been a few rounds with Svens body guard. It had been worth it to Mathan.


The man sat in front of Dorian, a greasy smile on his face as the two discussed payment for services.

“If you decide,” the man said, his accent think from his home country, “to cut losses and run, I will gladly take that pretty little redhead off your hands. No money necessary.”

Dorian nodded at that.

“And what makes you think ransom isn’t coming?” he asked, one slick eyebrow raised.

The man just laughed.

“Just because they pay the ransom…you will give them back so easily?” the man asked. “Sven will pay double the ransom. These types of pretties are always in high demand. As long as no one else breaks them…”

“So noted,” Dorian said, his expression blank.

“We have terms on my payment then?” he asked, one eyebrow raised.

Mathan had lost it. He jerked the asshole up by his collar and slammed him into a wall, daring him to ever set foot back in the compound before breaking his face when the man laughed at him too. By the time Svens guards had pulled Mathan off, the doctor was a bloody mess.

Thirty minutes later Mathan was being berated by his father for being the biggest fuck up he had ever seen until mid rant he stopped and smirked.

“Maybe…you are not such a lost cause,” he said with a smirk.

“The boys are starting to trust you. They have even seen you…heard…you. We can use that to our advantage. You must gain their trust. Make them think you are on their side. Then you will report everything to me. By the time I am done with them…” Dorian just laughed an evil laugh and Mathan forced himself to not throw up.


Turning his attention back to the room he noticed that Namjoon was sitting at the table with Jin, their heads bowed low in discussion.

“Are you okay, hyung?” Namjoon asked in hushed tones.

Jin just nodded as he turned and looked to where Hoseok was curled into Jungkook and Jimin.

“I think he will be the next target,” Jin said, looking back at their leader. “That freak bag…”

Both the men shuddered.

“Why the new guard?” Namjoon asked.

Jin shrugged at that.

“I think they came…because of what the maskless guard did,” he said after some thought. “Those people in the hallway…”

“How will we protect Hoseokie?” Namjoon asked.

“Joonah,” Jin started, his hands coming up to cover his face as his emotions threatened to overtake him. “We can’t even protect ourselves. Taehyung is barely alive. They drag us out of here whenever they want…and you refuse to trust anyone. What are we to do?”

“I won’t let anyone else attack our family hyung,” Namjoon said, and for some scary reason, Jin knew that the next time there would be one hell of a fight. He did not even bother to pray that no one got hurt.

Mathan chewed his busted lip at the conversation. He had noticed the man, Hans or…some shit…paying very close attention to the oldest two members of the group, and he did not like it one bit. Thinking back to what his father had said, he decided to take full advantage of the opportunity knowing that he could cut and bail before shit went too far south. He would protect these boys in any way he could and one day soon he would take them away from here on his own.

Getting up as he noticed Taehyung start to stir Mathan threw his ice pack down and grabbed his own bag of medical supplies walking out of the control room and daring the guard at the door to say one word or follow him in as he ripped the door open and stepped into BTS’ prison.

“How is he?” Mathan asked softly, once the door had shut, looking at the men at the table as their attention turned to their brother.

“What did the doctor say?” Namjoon asked, referring to the earlier exam.

“The freak didn’t say much,” Mathan said as he crossed the room to crouch by Taehyungs bed, checking his pulse and making sure he didn’t have a fever.

Jin gasped when he looked upon the man, noticing a gash by his eye and his busted lip.

“I broke his jaw,” Mathan said, looking up at the two. “But your brother will be fine. A few bruised ribs. Only one was cracked. His collarbone might cause him some issues in the future when it gets cold or…if he has to hold his hands above his head a lot. Maybe when working out. It was a jagged break. His jaw was dislocated but I am about to fix that and internally he has a few bruised organs but nothing is ruptured or bleeding so all things considered…”

Mathan knew it was a wonder Taehyung hadn’t died.

“If I could bother you two for a moment?” he asked as he looked up at the boys who still sat at the table. “I need to give him another dose of Morphine so I can set his jaw. When this dose wears off I think we’ll let him wake and see how he feels and go from there…”

Namjoon and Jin looked at eachother.

“Is this some sick game to get us to trust you?” he asked, his eyes narrowed.

Mathan laughed at that.

“No,” he said, looking the man in the eye. “I would tell you to never trust anyone but…you’re going to have to trust someone if you intend to make it out of here alive and right now I am the only bastard in this place that doesn’t dream about making you his bitch. Trust me or not, that’s on you. Just know that I am the only one who can and will help you.”

“Why are you doing this?” Namjoon asked again as Jin whispered the question to him in Hangul.

Mathan sighed as he filled a needle.

“Because…” he said, “I don’t want to be here any more than you do. But if I bail now…”

Mathan just shook his head.

“Why…you…protect us?” Jin asked.

Mathan refused to look at the man as he answered for fear he would give himself away.

“Because you have done nothing wrong to deserve this and…if I do not, no one else will. I owe someone a favor and this is how I intend to repay it, by getting all of you home safely and then…turning myself in so I can be punished for what I have done…”

Part Twenty-Three

Chapter Summary


Part Twenty-Three

Mathan had made quick work of administering the drugs and resetting Taehyungs jaw, using his thumbs to pop it back into place and wrapping a bandage around it to stabilize it until the boy woke. Instructing his two helpers to bang on the door if they needed him for anything, Mathan returned to his hole in the control room to once again monitor news, fansites, the boys, the new guards, and anything else that came to mind.

When Taehyung started to rouse Mathan made his way to the room, once again enlisting his helpers to sit on either side of their brother as he came to to keep him calm and to translate for him as he spoke. At first Taehyung was very groggy, laying there and blinking his eyes as everything came back to him at which time he tried to sit up, almost screaming out in pain but remembering to keep silent for fear the monster would return and finish him off.

Jin checked to make sure the others were still asleep as he and Namjoon moved the help the nameless guard with Taehyung. Hoseok and Jimin had Jungkook wrapped between them but he could see that their maknae was in the throes of a nightmare. Pausing by the bed, Jin swept his fingers through Jungkooks dark hair and leaning over Hoseoks sleeping form, he pressed a soft kiss on the young mans forehead, whispering, “Shhh hyungjae. You are safe in the arms of your love and your hyung.”

He watched Jungkook settle into a deeper sleep and snuggle into Jimins arms all the while hating himself for the lie that fell from his lips. Shaking away the tears that threatened to fall, Jin moved to the nameless guards side watching everything he did. As Taehyung began to show signs of waking both he and Namjoon placed gentle hands on their dongsaeng to keep him still.

The silent scream that Taehyung let out worried Jin. He had not spoken since before that monster had attacked Jungkook and Jin feared now that some permanent damage might have been done. He struggled to keep this fear from showing as he tried to calm Taehyung.

“It is alright, TaeTae…you are hurt but back with your hyungs. This nameless one…” Jin pointed in the general direction of the silent unmasked guard, “helped you and brought you back to us.”

Namjoon became truly frightened when Taehyung focused on the man standing at the end of the bed and started to thrash around, even striking Jin in the face with his unbandaged hand. It looked as if Taehyung were repeating the word ‘no’ over and over again, yet he made no sound.

The moment that Taehyung opened his eyes and got a clear look at the man standing at his feet, he was overwhelmed with terror as those threatening words repeated in his mind. It didn’t matter that the man’s face was different from the one in his nightmares, it wasn’t wearing a white expressionless mask and it wasn’t the face of his hyungs.

Jin reared back when Taehyung struck out in fear and turned pleadingly to the guard.

“Please…help…you…make…him...afraid. Please…talk…him...give...your…name…to him.”

Mathan looked at the boys before him at a complete loss.

His first reaction was to be sarcastic but he knew that was not appropriate. His second reaction was to figure out a way around giving the boys his name. That made things personal and being personal was never good. Feelings and attachments and…shit Mathan didn’t need.

Slowly holding up his hands, Mathan tried to find the words to say. He had never been much at being a comfort.

“My…” he tried.

“That man…he will never touch you again. I swear it. But I’m not him. I’m nothing like him. I just…I’m here to help you and…you need to be careful so…”

Mathan could see that the boy wasn’t processing the English coming out of his mouth in his terror.

“Taehyung-ssi,” Mathan said instead, his voice firm, but calming, closing his eyes as he tried to remember all the little things his sister had tried to teach him.

“My name is Mathan. And I am here to help you.”

Mathan opened his eyes, looking at all three of the men, trying to gauge their responses to what had just transpired.

Namjoon snorted when the man revealed his name and sent a scowl towards Jin when the other gave the man a soft smile. He could not and would not trust this man, not with his life, and not with the lives of his beloved family.

“Jin hyung…mind Taehyung. If it will help him, then sing to him,” he said as he jerked his head towards Taehyung.

Jin hadn’t been able to stop the smile that crossed his lips when the man had revealed his name and he blushed a little when his leader had scolded him; but he couldn’t help the sudden warmth he felt as the man made himself more human to them.

Taehyung had stopped thrashing around at the sound of the deep calm voice that spoke. It was nothing like the hated one from his dreams and he felt himself relax as Jin took his hand and began to sing softly. Taehyung allowed his hyungs voice to push him back into the quiet darkness of sleep.

Mathan watched the boy as he fell back into a restless sleep but as he seemed to not be in any pain he could not justify drugging him anymore.

“I uh…bandages,” Mathan tried in Hangul. “Change.”

No one would ever tell Mathan he looked adorable when he got annoyed, his eyes closing and his nose scrunching up as he waved a hand around in thought. It was not a side of him he had let very many people see, and had he not been trying so hard to find a middle ground with these seven men, Jin may not have seen it either.

Mathan opened his eyes, knowing he had sounded like an idiot before approaching the now vacated side of the bed.

“Head first,” he said as he looked at Jin, trying not to acknowledge how beautiful the man really was.

“Can you help me hold him up?”

“I…can…help.” Jin stuttered at the English and made a promise to himself to get Namjoon to start helping him learn more.

Jin carefully eased an arm underneath Taehyung, keeping his injured head on the arm as he raised him up for Mathan.

“I…sing…help Taehyungie...calm, Mathan-ssi.” Jin spoke without truly thinking about the words or the way he was speaking, so he was a little startled by the intense focus suddenly coming from both Namjoon and Mathan.

With heat flooding his face, Jin turned his eyes away from both men and began to sing a lullaby to Taehyung.

Mathan took a moment to recover before walking around to position himself behind Taehyung, cutting off the old bandages and cleaning around the wound to remove excess dried blood and goo. Gently poking here and there Mathan tilted his head from one side to the other as he considered what to do. The stitches were in a bad place for getting caught, but the wound needed air.

“How much does he move his head when he sleeps?” Mathan asked, looking at Jin.

Jin paused as his mind struggled to turn the English words to Hangul. Then he answered, “One...us...sleep...with Tae. Keep...his...head...here.”

Jin laid this hand over his heart, then he turned to Namjoon, “Tell Mathan that one of us will sleep with Taehyung and keep his head on our chest so he won’t move it.”

He knew that was the way that Taehyung slept with Yoongi most of the time, having listened to Yoongi complain in the past about Taehyung sleeping on him like a heavy blanket.

When Namjoon remained silent, Jin commanded him as the eldest of their group.

“Joon-ah…this man is helping us right now. I know you don’t trust him but Taehyung has to come first and until we find a way out we must take any and all help that we can get.”

“Gwaenchanh-a,” Mathan said as he shook his head. “Just make sure he doesn’t rub the back of his head on anything,” he said, directing Jins attention to the stitches in the boys scalp. “If he rips these I’ll have to redo them.”

Mathan tried to use his hands to emphasize his words as he resolved to study the language of these men harder.

“I need to check his jaw,” Mathan said next, running his fingers down one side of the boys face. “Lay him back down for a minute and I’ll take this bandage off too.”

Waiting for Jin to do as instructed, Mathan cut the bandage off of Taehyungs face, this time running the tips of his fingers along both sides of the boys jaw, prodding one or two places before removing his hands, satisfied.

“Make sure he doesn’t open his mouth too wide for the next few weeks. His jaw has to heal and I don’t think he wants to walk around with his mouth tied shut. Wake him up for lunch and make him soup or something light. He has to eat, but nothing he has to chew or it will make his jaw worse. Okay?” Mathan said, looking Jin in the eyes.

Right about now he was telling these men things they needed to know and Kim Namjoon was acting like a child instead of the leader who was going to get his brothers out alive. It took everything in Mathan not to jerk the boy up and shake him stupid.

Jin gave Namjoon a look that promised strong words would be spoken after Mathan left. He also couldn’t stop himself from laying a hand on Mathans arm, surprised by the tingle of electricity that seemed to pass between them.

“Gamsahamnida,” he said softly to the man.

Jin was caught by surprise when Namjoon pulled him away roughly.

“Don’t thank him for anything,” the man growled. “Have you forgotten that this man took you away from your life in the dead of night…away from your family…and brought you to this hell? Look at what they have done to Yoongi, Jungkook and now Taehyung.”

Jin was more than shocked at the harsh words being thrown at him and normally he would have stayed silent, but not this time.

“You bring shame to yourself as leader, Kim Namjoon. I will stay with Taehyung right now, I suggest that you join Hoseokah and try to rest.”

Mathan watched the exchange with one eyebrow raised, understanding the tone even if he did not understand the words.

“I’ll uh…” he said, licking his lips.

Pissed off Jin was kind of sexy.

“I’ll be back for breakfast. You will need to get Taehyung up and help him eat and he will need to wash off. I’ll change the rest of his bandages tomorrow. You’ll have to help him…”

Mathan stood, gathering the dirty bandages and his bags, looking around one last time.

“Tell your friend that…I’m not the worst person here. And…I’m not here to…hurt…any of you. I just…a little cooperation would be nice. That kid could have died. I could have just stayed in my truck and not risked everything. I BEAT…” Mathan shook his head. He didn’t need to give these guys nightmares any worse than what they already had. “I can’t help you if you don’t help me, okay?” he said, looking right at Namjoon before turning and walking out the door, his emotions starting to get the best of him.

As soon as Mathan left the room Jin turned on Namjoon.

“What are you thinking, Joon-ah! That man has been nothing but helpful to us, he saved Yoongi and now Taehyung.”

Namjoon could not contain the anger and hate inside him and threw it back at their eldest member in a flurry of words.

“That man and all the others are the reasons that Yoongi hyung was raped, Kookie was attacked, and now Taehyungah almost beaten to death. If not for him and those like him we would still be home, living our lives. But no! We are here in this place…in this nightmare…in this Hell. And you smile at him. It is you Kim Seokjin who brings shame to us.”

Leaving the eldest member of BTS standing speechless and stunned, Namjoon moved to the bed he shared with Hoseok and crawled in.

The next morning Jin rose early, unable to sleep after the words he had had with his leader, and straightened up the room, making sure his brothers were sleeping well and covered to stay warm. After changing his clothes and washing his face he piled all the dirty laundry by the door and started some coffee before sitting at the table with his head in his hands. He had never seen Namjoon so angry and he was conflicted as to how the mans anger was being vocalized. While he understood the need to be angry at their captors, something in him told him that Mathan was as much a prisoner here as they were.

Jumping at the knock on the door Jin worked to school his features into polite blankness as Mathan came in with a cart filled with utensils to fix breakfast, a few medical supplies, and what looked like fresh groceries for making foods that Taehyung would be able to eat without causing himself further injury.

Jin wanted to say something to the man, but decided against it as he noticed Mathans dark expression. Had he translated the conversation from last night? Would he stop helping the boys because of Namjoons harsh words? Had something somewhere gone wrong?

“I brought items to make soups with,” Mathan said, his tone hard. “Please prepare breakfast and tell the others to get up and eat. I have errands to run and I wouldn’t count on lunch today. I should be back in time to bring you groceries for dinner. I also need to check that one,” he said, pointing at Taehyung, “and switch out his bandages.”

Mathan had translated the argument from last night. Namjoons words played through his mind on repeat and his emotions were finally starting to turn him into the person he didn’t want to be, but with everything going on, he was beginning to think that person would be a better servant to everyone he answered to.

“Are…” Jin started, before shaking his head and going about the task Mathan had set for him.

Waking Hoseok and Jimin up, Jin set them about preparing their breakfasts while Jin made jook for Taehyung. Hoseok could already feel the tension in the air and wondered if it had anything to do with the nameless guard who was sorting through items on a cart he had placed next to Taehyung.

“Seokjinah,” Hoseok said softly. “Did…something…happen?”

Jin looked at his brother, surprised by the question.

“That guy,” Hoseok said softly.

Jin just shook his head as his gaze shifted towards Mathan.

“You all have half an hour to eat,” Mathan said. “I suggest you get these others up and tell them to get to it. I need the dishes washed and handed back in to me before I leave, and one of you all will need to switch out this ones dressings so I can take these supplies with me as well. Understand?” he asked, a heavy amount of sarcasm in his tone.

If Namjoon wanted him to be a cold, unfeeling monster, he would be. It was really no skin off of his teeth to be an emotionless bastard. After all, he had been raised to be that way.

The three men in the kitchen looked at eachother before looking at the guard, trying to process what he had just said.

“Eat, clean up, take care of this, hurry,” Mathan said slowly as though he was talking to a bunch of children.

The attitude made Jin see red. He was convinced this colder treatment was Namjoons fault and as soon as Mathan was gone he intended to lay in to their leader. He was only making things worse.

Carefully waking Yoongi and Jungkook, Jin simply tossed the mattress Namjoon was on, throwing the man to the floor before going over and kneeling next to Taehyung, running his fingertips along the boys jaw before whispering his name as to not scare him.

“Taehyungah,” he said softly. “It’s time to get up. You need to eat something and we need to change these nasty bandages.”

Taehyung laid in bed for a moment before slowly opening his eyes and looking around, the pain from his injuries hitting him almost immediately and causing him to once again release a silent scream. Jin tried not to show his overwhelming panic at the boys unusual silence as he carefully helped him into a sitting position, looking at the bandages and trying to figure out how to get them off.

“Please?” he asked, looking at Mathan and then back at the bandages.

Mathan sorted.

“Get loud mouth over there to help you,” he said, jerking his head in Namjoons directions. “Since I’m such a monster.”

Jin looked to where his leader was glaring daggers at Mathan and had it not been for the fact that he was the only thing keeping Taehyung upright he would have knocked that smug look off of his dongsaengs face in a second.

“Please?” Jin tried again, looking at Mathan. “Help.”

Mathan looked at Jin…looked almost through him, ready to say ‘no’ when he noticed the boy in his arms trying to hold back his silent tears.

“Damnit,” he breathed.

This was exactly why he hadn’t wanted to tell them his name or call them by theirs. It made shit personal, and for Mathan personal was an automatic death sentence for everyone involved.

Kneeling by the boy Mathan made quick work of removing all of the wrapping he had applied, gently holding Taehyungs arm in place as he checked various bruises, the set of his previously dislocated shoulder, and then his broken collarbone.

“Keep his arm like this and help him wash off,” Mathan said. “I will show you one time how to apply his bandages and after that you are on your own. I don’t care if he heals right or not. I’m just a gae-sae-kki after all.”

“Please, Mathan-ah...forgive my rude…ness. Should…not have…called...you.”

Jin hoped that the man could see that he was being honest. No matter what their leader said or did he believed that this man was not a monster like the others. Something within Jin told him that Mathan was a good man, even when he did bad things.

“Namjoon not…speak…for…Jin.” He sent a harsh glare to Namjoon who was only now picking himself up off the floor.

Namjoon walked over to them, watching everything that Mathan was doing. No doubt to make sure that he had as little future contact with Taehyung as possible. Mathan could understand wanting to protect his family but the other man needed to realize that he might be BTS’ only hope for getting out of this place alive. He had seen the wheels turning in dear old Dad’s head at the idea of selling these boys twice, once for the ransom then again for some sick freaks pleasure. As harsh as their reality was right now, it could get a lot, lot worse.

Looking into the pleading gaze of Jin, Mathan thought now might be the time to lay some hard truth on the leader of BTS.

“You can look at me and think I am the worst person in the world. But believe me, Kim Namjoon, when I tell you that there are men and women out there who make me look like a fucking choirboy; and unluckily a couple of your hyungjaes have caught one such persons eye. So I suggest that you channel that rage into helping your brothers get out of here alive because I can promise you that if you don’t; you won’t make it out of here in one piece.”

Mathan finished up with Taehyung and knowing it would piss off Namjoon, he lightly caressed Jins cheek before leaving the room.

Part Twenty-Four

Chapter Notes


Part Twenty-Four

When Mathan left, the nightmare began again. The boys would soon come to realize the only time they were safe is when Mathan was somewhere near. He was the only one strong enough to slay the monsters lurking in the shadows.

The morning started off innocent enough. Mathan left and three new guards came in, carefully watching BTS as they cooked, ate, helped Taehyung wash up and re-bandage, and cleaned up. Nothing was said but none of the boys felt uncomfortable in this new guards’ presence.

“Where did the faceless ones go?” Jimin whispered as they sat on the dogpile of mattresses they had created.

“Mathan…” Jin started, “the one who saved Taehyungie…he hurt a lot of them. I think very badly,” he finished softly, watching the color drain from his brothers faces.

Namjoon snorted at that and mumbled something under his breath and Jin once again had to control himself; but the others immediately picked up on the tension in the room as the two refused to speak directly to one another.

When lunch came the guys knew that something was definitely up and so all of them stayed on high alert, Jimin and Jin sitting with Jungkook while Hoseok and Namjoon sat with Taehyung, Yoongi still in his far corner staring out of the peep hole in the blankets as the three guards from breakfast brought in a few groceries and items to make a light lunch with.

Carefully rising Jin and Hoseok took the cart from the guards, never giving the men their backs as they backtracked into the kitchen, sorting the groceries and deciding on jjigae. While they cooked Namjoon and Jimin rose to set the table, Jungkook going to sit with Taehyung in his bed.

That was when the nightmare began.

Hoseok heard the guards snickering but couldn’t understand what they were saying or who they were talking about until the three of them let out a jolly laugh and the leader of the group spoke up.

“Look at these pretty little dancing fairies,” he said, loud enough for the whole room to hear.

Hoseok chose to ignore the speaking. He could tell by the tone the guards were looking for a fight. No one here was stupid enough to give them that.

“Hey you,” the same guard called, looking at Namjoon. "They make you the rapper of this little pansy party ‘cause you can't sing or dance?”

Namjoons face immediately went blank as his dangerous smile flashed across his eyes and Hoseok knew they had started targeting his lover.

“Is it a qualification to be a rapper that you're ugly as fuck and dumber than a box of rocks?” another guard asked.

Hoseok held the knife in his hand a little tighter as he tried to calm his nerves. He could see where this was going. Nothing so far had caused his family to break and these new babysitters seemed smarter than the last ones. Maybe they figured if they broke the leader the rest of BTS would break. What they didn’t know obviously, was that Rap Monster, aka Kim Namjoon, was indestructible.

“How much money did your family pay to have you in this little gay fest?"

Something in Jung Hoseok broke at that comment. The last conversation he had had with his father was fresh in his memory.

“ENOUGH!,” Hoseoks father had shouted, his face red. “We said nothing when you went out and danced on the streets like a prancing fairy, it did lead to you becoming part of Bangtan Sonyeondan; and you have shown promise and success in this. But this foul relationship you have with Kim Namjoon must come to an end.”

Hoseok had never seen his father in this kind of rage. In his excitement after their last promotion for Young Forever, he had thrown himself into Joon-ahs arms backstage and they had been kissing passionately when his parents had walked in.

The look on his mothers face had broken his heart; she looked as if she had never seen him before. And the rage and disgust on his fathers face had cut into his soul. He had tried explaining to them how much he cared for the other man and everything that Namjoon had done, not only for him, but for all the members of BTS. How he led and guided them, protecting them from anti-fans and those in the industry who sought to belittle every success they had.

Hoseok tried to make his parents understand that it wasn’t a gender he fell in love with but a person, whole and beautiful to him. He wanted them to know that the love he felt for Namjoon was real and pure, not un-natural or an abomination. But the more he tried to explain, the greater their disgust and finally he was forced to flee his home to escape his parents condemnation.

Now in this place, hearing similar words again thrown out was too much for the young man. In his blind rage Hoseok gave no thought to his actions as he grabbed the pan of hot water and threw it into the face of the nearest guard. He could dimly hear the others cry out as he rushed forward with the knife in hand, his only thought to stop the laughter being directed at the man he most loved and cherished in the world.

“HOBI-YA!!!!” Namjoon screamed out as he helplessly watched his lover swing a knife back and forth at the guard. He and Jimin had moved forward to try and stop him only to be faced down by large guns.

Out of the corner of his eye Namjoon saw the other guard strike Jin in the stomach with the butt of his gun when the eldest had attempted to intervene.

With sickening horror the leader of BTS realized that this was a game to these men and that this was what they had wanted from the moment they stepped into the room. They had wanted it to be him that broke, but they had no idea how fiercely protective his beloved Hobi was. Tears rained down Namjoons cheeks as he realized his error in not listening to Mathan and now Hoseok was in danger of paying for that with his life.

It was Jimins gasp, Jungkooks scream and the sight of Hoseok lying on the ground clutching his bleeding calf, his mouth opened in a silent scream, that did what the guards had tried to do with their words.

Kim Namjoon broke.

“Shit man!” one of the guards yelled out as he realized what his buddy had done.

The guard with the knife dropped it as he looked from the knife to the bleeding boy, and then back at his friend.

“Not a word,” he growled to the boys. “Any of you. The fucker got what he deserved,” he said as he went to his injured friend in the corner checking his burnt face.

“Help me get him up,” he said to the third guard. “Leave all this shit in here. We gotta go tell the boss they attacked us. Let ‘em get punished real good for this.”

The third guard looked around again, looking at the camera and busting it, thinking it would destroy the feed before helping the other two up and out of the room, slamming the door behind them.

As soon as they were gone the boys mobilized. Jimin started digging for towels and ice, his mind in overdrive and unsure of how to fix it. Jungkook wrapped his arms around Taehyung as the boy descended into a full blown panic attack. Yoongi stood frozen in shock in his corner of the room, his blankets falling from around him. Jin slid to Hoseoks side, his hands hovering over his brother, his eyes wide in shock. Namjoon ran to the door, banging and screaming and clawing.

“We have to stop the bleeding, hyung!” Jimin yelled as he gave Jin a shake and handed him towels.

For a moment all Jin could do was stare at Jimin, the boys voice far away in Jins ears as he tried to process what had happened. Finally shaking himself out of his stupor, Jin took the towels handed to him and pressed them hard against Hobis bleeding wound. He could see Namjoon beating the door, leaving red marks behind as his hands started to bleed. He and Jimin were both pressing as hard as they could on Hoseoks wound as Jin tried desperately to think of anything that would bring help for his fallen brother.

Eyes widening, Jin shouted to Yoongi.

“Yoon-ah! Go to the bathroom and start screaming and yelling, kick walls…whatever you can think of to make as much noise as possible!”

Yoongi stared blankly at Jin for a moment until the other was forced to scream.


Yoongi ran and then Jin could hear him screaming as well as the sounds of a body hitting the wall over and over again.

Mathan returned at a quarter til four, his errands ran for the day. As tired as he was, he knew he still had to man the control room, something he really did not feel like doing. Dropping by his room Mathan put away his personal purchases and was preparing to go to his hole when he heard the godawefulest commotion ever. Following the noise and looking around in curiosity Mathan soon found himself standing in front of BTS’ cell, all color draining from his face. Bracing himself Mathan slowly opened the door, his mind descending in to chaos as he processed the scene before him.

Seokjin and Jimin were knelt over Hoseok, covered in blood and tears as they desperately held pressure to his leg, the boys color white, and sweat pouring down his face. Yoongi came out of the bathroom holding his side and looking at the man in fear. Jungkook and Taehyung were curled together and Namjoon was sitting behind the door, his hands dripping blood from torn skin and fingernails. It looked like a war zone and Mathan was at a loss on where to even start.

“Wha…” he breathed as he spun around again, noticing pots and pans, a bloody knife…everything that should have been collected by the previous guards. “Wha…” he tried again. “What happened?” he finally managed to get out.

Ignoring the blood and pain in his hands, Namjoon pulled himself from the floor.

“The guards…they started saying things. At me…about me…” Namjoon had a hard time staying on his feet when all he wanted to do was curl up around Hobi and wail. “Hoseok hyung is very protective of me and...he attacked the guards. We tried to stop him but…” Namjoon trailed off, forcing himself to look at Mathan.

No longer able to bear his own weight again he fell to his knees and laying his head at Mathans feet, begged.

“Please help him…I can’t…be parted from him.”

Mathan swore in every language he could think of at the moment as he ran to get a med kit. He would have to deal with the idiots later; the guards who started this stupid shit for their own enjoyment as well as the Korean idiots who seemed determined to find some way to end up dead.

“Stupid, vapid pretty boys without the sense God gave a mouse,” Mathan muttered as he tore through his supplies store. “I should have never let that man talk me into this insanity. Should have just gone off to a beach somewhere and cooked in the sun… Easy job my ass. Only pay out I’m getting is a death sentence…”

Mathan snatched up his supplies as quickly as he could before returning to the seven pains in his ass that he was trying to get out of this nightmare alive. When he was done patching up another one, he was going to reign hell down upon their heads.

Busting back through the door Mathan looked at all of the members before barking orders. Commanding Yoongi to come out of his corner he told the boy to collect all of the pots, pans, knives and various utensils and get them washed. Turning to Taehyung and Jungkook he heaved a sigh as he realized the one was still useless and changed his plans telling Jungkook to pick up the room and pile all of the dirty bloody clothes by the door, deciding he would just burn those as well. Looking at the remaining four Mathan literally facepalmed himself. These guys were breaking and the more they broke the less fight they would have to use on themselves.

“Move back,” Matan said, deciding the kitchen table would have to work.

No longer questioning this faceless guard Namjoon and Jin jumped back, pulling Jimin with them as Mathan swooped down and picked Hoseok up, carrying him to the kitchen table and instructing Jin to spread out a sheet which Mathan placed the boy on top of.

“Tell him to lay face first. Namjoon, sit at his head and help him stay comfortable. Jin, I need you to hand me what I ask for. Jimin…I need water and towels. Hot water.”

Mathan didn’t even hesitate as he dove in, his field mind taking over. Barking one order after another and relying on Namjoon to convey what the others did not understand, Mathan went straight to work assessing the damage without alarming the boys.

“Hobi-ya,” Namjoon said softly, his arms propped up for his lover to use as a pillow. “What were you thinking?”

Hoseok laughed lightly, his strength drained from the blood he had lost.

“No one…messes…with my Namjoonah,” he said, even speaking becoming something that required effort.

“You should not have been so foolish,” Namjoon scolded, his emotions threatening to overcome him.

“You…are hurt,” Hoseok said with a frown.

“I’m okay,” he said, his full concentration on the man in his arms.

“Saranghae,” Hoseok said, turning his head and smiling.

“I love you too you idiot,” Namjoon said with a pout.

“How…how bad is it?” Hoseok asked, a slight level of fear in his voice.

“Mathan-ssi is here,” Namjoon said, addressing the man by his name for the first time, which was not unnoticed by everyone else. “You’ll be right as rain tomorrow. He takes good care of us, hmm?”

Namjoon could feel the tears streaming down his face as he looked at the man, silently pleading with him to deliver good news.

Mathan looked Namjoon in the eyes and while he felt for him, he had to keep his own emotions in check. He was already far too attached for anyones good.

“I need to numb his leg, but I need for him to stay awake,” Mathan said as he grabbed a glass vial and a needle. “He’s going to feel a sting, and a burn, and then it will be numb. He will still feel some discomfort and a lot of pulling but…I need to repair the muscle and…it is what it is…”

Namjoon laid his face on the table so that he and Hobi were eye level to one another. He needed to keep the others attention on him and not what was happening with his leg. The look on Mathans face told Namjoon that the wound was serious and he didn’t want to add to Hobis stress.

“Do you remember the day we got caught in the rain? It was the first time we kissed.” Namjoon leaned forward and kissed Hoseok. His heart broke as he felt Hobi try to smile against his lips and whisper, “I remember everything about that day.”

Namjoon whispered back, “I was so nervous that day. I wanted to kiss you for so long but something always seemed to get in the way. But there we were, standing in that shop doorway, drenched and I couldn’t stop myself. Like a moment in one of those dramas that you watch and don’t think we know about.”

He saw Hobi wince when Mathan stuck him with the needle.

“I was sure that you would either laugh at me, like it was a joke or punch me in the jaw for daring to do such a thing. I stood there waiting for what seemed like forever and then you smiled that beautiful smile that captured my heart. You threw your arms around me, kissed me and said it was about damn time. I knew in that moment you would own my heart forever, Hobi-ya. Saranghaeyo.”

Mathan waited for no response as he prepared and administered the shot, disposing of the needle and pointing to various things as he asked for Jins help. While waiting for the medicine to take effect Mathan cleaned off Hoseoks leg and sterilized it, pushing on the surrounding area until he was satisfied it was numb. He felt like he should apologize for the butcher job he was about to do. No matter how he went about it there would be one hell of a scar. Mathans stitches had never been that pretty, and because it was not a superficial wound, it would require at least two layers of stitches, the bottom layer needing to be stronger than the top since it would need to remain longer and hold the muscle together.

Looking up to say something, he realized Namjoon was lost in a moment and so he turned his head to address Jin.

“He will be completely bed ridden for a long time, Seokjin-ssi,” Mathan said softly. “If he walks on it at all…”

Jin was helpless against the sobs silently shaking his whole body as he watched Mathan sew up Hoseoks calf. He wanted to throw up at seeing the inside of his brothers leg but knew he needed to be alert for any help that Mathan might need.

He could hear what Joon was saying to Hoseok to keep his mind off what was going on with his wound; and the pain in his leaders voice as he spoke of happier times made Jin want to throw back his head and scream at God for this hell visited upon them. He would have gladly taken any of their places, even now in his own mind telling God to visit all these horrors on him instead of his family.

When Mathan spoke to Jin about Hobis injury and what it might mean, it took the last bit of strength holding him upright and he just collapsed onto the floor.

Seeing that for right now Hoseok was quiet and Namjoon was keeping his attention, Mathan didn’t hesitate as he swept Jin up into his arms; ignoring the wide-eyed looks he was getting from Jimin, Jungkook, Taehyung and Yoogi. He moved to the nearest empty bed and sat down with Jin in his lap, holding the young Korean man as he broke down into gut-wrenching sobs.

What worried him was the knowledge that the old man was no doubt watching all this play out like a spider in a web waiting to see if dinner would get away or just give up and let itself be eaten. And the last thing he wanted was to watch the beautiful soul in his arms get eaten by the spider.

“You have to be strong,” Mathan said, keeping his voice low so that only Jin could hear. “You have to be strong and you have to keep the others from playing in to these sick games or you will just keep getting hurt. It will only get worse. Believe me. And…I can’t keep saving you all like this. I can’t. It…it isn’t safe and…I’m not going to be one more sick toy in this game. You don’t know these monsters like I do. They won’t ever stop.”

Mathan wanted to hold this boy close, wanted to wrap him in his embrace and promise him with all the world that everything would be okay, but after today, he just didn’t know. All that he did know was that he could no longer sit by and watch these beautiful souls be tortured as their lives were extinguished. He saw very clearly in his mind what he needed to do, and he knew the very limited number of favors he needed to call in to make it happen. He just needed time to figure out the calls.

“I have to finish sewing up your brother,” Mathan said, his nose grazing Jins ear, the one small concession he would allow himself. “Will you be okay?” he asked, his tone clearly saying that he NEEDED this precious angel to be alright if only for his own very selfish reasons.

As his sobs quieted down Jin heard Mathans words whispered in his ear and as much as it hurt to understand them, he nodded. He did gasp when Mathan stood from the bed without putting him down. He watched Mathans face as the arm under his knees slid away and Jin was once again standing on his own two feet. The taller man didn’t immediately release his hold on Jins waist; and he wanted nothing more than to lean into that broad chest and forget for a minute that they were all living in Hell. But he knew that his hyungs were going to need him more than ever now, so he pulled away from Mathans embrace.

“I will…be...O.K., Mathan-ah.” Jin smiled as much as he could, while making the ok symbol with his bloody fingers. “We help Hobi-ah now.”

Mathan nodded, a flash of pain crossing his features before he turned back around and sat in his original position, checking the stitches before sterilizing the area again and wrapping it with a bandage and instructing Namjoon to help the boy sit up.

“Let me be no clearer to you than I am now when I say absolutely do NOT, for any reason, put pressure on that leg. Not even to go to the bathroom. If your brothers can’t help you, I will come do it myself. You tear those stitches before they heal, and you will never dance again, do you understand me?” Mathan asked looking at everyone involved.

All of them nodded at Mathan except Hoseok who looked at his leg as if it had suddenly betrayed him.

Anything else that might have been said was hushed by the steel door opening and a single masked figure walking into the room.

Part Twenty-Five

Chapter Summary


Part Twenty-Five

Mathan had a hard time controlling himself when his father walked in. He got that sudden sense of a spider moving along the web as it watched dinner struggle to escape. And when his father started to speak, it was all he could do to crush the wild instinct that screamed at him to grab Jin, damn the others, and shoot his way out. He had to forcibly unclench his hands and move them away from the gun he kept tucked into the waistband of his pants.

“My, it looks like you poor boys have certainly been banged up.” Dorian moved further into the room, seeing the boys stiffen when a group of armed men followed after him.

“I am afraid that I must ask for your help,” he continued, clapping his hands together in glee. “I am going to make a little movie and you young men are going to help me. Now I am sure that your first thought is to tell me to go straight to hell, but please look at each other and think of the consequences that your refusal would bring.”

Mathan felt the bile rise in his throat as it dawned on him what his father was about to do.

“These gentlemen are going to give each of you a little shot and you will all go to sleep for a little while. We will make our little movie and that will be that.”

Even without a complete understanding of the English language there was enough in the tone of that alien voice to send Kookie scrambling into Jimins arms while Namjoon wrapped arms around Hobi who was still sitting on the table. Jin had moved to Taehyungs bedside the moment the masked man had walked in and now sat next to the injured young man.

Laughing with that awful sounding voice at the expressions on the faces of BTS, Dorian continued.

“Now don’t worry yourselves, your virtues are completely safe… We are making a pretend snuff film, not a porno. But let me warn you gentleman, failure to cooperate with me will result in this becoming a real snuff film. Now if Mr. Kim would be so kind as to translate, we will get started in a couple of minutes.”

Walking over to Mathans side, Dorian whispered softly, “Very touching moment there, son. Giving comfort to that poor broken boy. I was touched. I think I even shed a tear. Too bad these boys don’t know what a killer you really are…”

Mathan stood stone still as he watched Namjoon move from member to member, explaining the sick twisted idea that his father was going to put them through now, knowing there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to stop it. All he could do was watch and pray to a God that he didn’t believe in.

He walked over to Hoseok and gently picked him up off the table, moving him to the empty bed where for a few seconds he had held perfection in his arms.

“Now gentlemen, if you wish to share a bed with a fellow group member, please feel free,” Dorian said, speaking up again. “In the end it will make a much greater impact…for the film, of course.”

The laughter coming from that mask was chilling.

Jimin and Jungkook were quick to wrap themselves around the other, their tears unstoppable. Namjoon carefully moved into the bed with Hoseok pulling the other to lay across his chest and positioning his wounded leg so to keep pressure off it. Jin put himself into the bed with Taehyung making sure to stay on the side less wounded. Yoongi took a bed to himself laying as stiff as a board in his terror.

For the first time in more years than he could count Mathan wanted to let loose the tears screaming for escape as he witnessed two of this fathers new goons sedate each member of BTS. Jin was the last one to receive a shot and he felt something give inside when the beautiful young man smiled and sent him the ok signal before the fast-acting drug took hold and he was lost to unconsciousness.

Mathan stood back against the wall, refusing to take part in this disgusting charade.

One of the new goons happened to have done some special effects make-up in Hollywood and he now went around the room, setting the stage for Dorians sick little movie. Splashing lots of fake blood over the boys, making it as gruesome as possible because of course dear old dad wanted maximum impact when the video hit the internet.

Dorian himself directed, “Not a whole lot of blood on their faces, we want to make sure that they are recognized in the video. It must look like they were sleeping all peaceful like when us bad people came in and sent these precious boys to eternal slumber. Do take care with the blood squibs, we don’t have a great many of them and this has to be done in one take. Make sure that those of you doing the shooting are only firing blanks, we wouldn’t want to really turn this into a snuff film. Plus we don’t want to make the mess worse that my dear son will have to help clean up when these boys wake up, now do we?” Dorian taunted as he glanced at Mathan, pulling the mask from his face.

As his father went to get the camera, Mathan heard him say out loud, “I wonder if this will trend number one on YouTube?”

As soon as the video was done and the monsters had left him alone with the boys Mathan rushed to the bathroom, emptying the contents of his stomach as images flashed before his eyes, tears streaming down his face as he too finally broke. No one would ever touch these boys again. Seokjin would never have to face death in such a way.

Cleaning up, he made his way back to the room, falling to his knees beside the sleeping angel that had stolen his heart, his hand slowly extending to hover above the mans chest.

“S…” he tried, not trusting his voice. “J…”

Mathan closed his eyes and listened, concentrating on the sound of breathing he heard, his hand slowly lowering over Seokjins chest. He almost cried in relief when he felt the heartbeat he had known was there. A part of him wished these boys would sleep until he had cleaned up so they would never have to see how terrible it looked but another part of him knew his father would get off on showing the boys this video at least one time while he stood in the corner and laughed.

Pushing himself up Mathan went and checked the others to secure his piece of mind before quickly picking up the room, realizing it would take hours to clean away all the blood. It had splattered everywhere. Resigning himself to the job before him Mathan went to the leader first, slowly shaking him away.

“They’re gone,” he whispered. “Everyone is okay. I checked you all. It’s just…don’t freak out, okay?” he said, trying to keep his tone genuine and calm.

Namjoon slowly sat up, repositioning Hoseok and almost losing the contents of his stomach as his eyes raked over his lovers made up body. A bullet hole had been painted onto the side of his head, the blood splatter from the fake wound looking disgustingly real.

“Leave him to sleep,” Mathan said, reaching out for the first time ever to put hands on the younger man.


“I need help getting everyone else up. It will take you all hours to wash this shit off. And no one needs to wake up on their own and see all this. I need you to be strong for your brothers and I need you to help me.”

Namjoon looked at the man he had once hated and nodded, his brain numb but his heart thankful for this small light of hope.

Moving over to Seokjin, Mathan held his breath as his fingers automatically reached out and traced the faux bullet hole in the mans temple, running over the blood trail that had been created as he tried to keep calm.

“Seokjin,” he said softly, gently shaking the boy. “They are gone. You need to get up and help your brothers. Watch out for Taehyung. Don’t panic…”

Taehyung looked even worse. He looked like he had been beaten to death at another location and then drug to the bed and discarded, possibly after the others were ‘killed’. Fake blood covered his torso, trails coming out of his ears, nose, and mouth…splatter all over his body, his face covered in wounds, and what looked like several bullet holes in his abdomen. Mathan wanted to hurl all over again.

Jin wanted to ignore the rough voice calling his name except the pain he could hear in it had him wanting to comfort that voice. Slowly blinking his eyes open and starting to stretch as if he were waking from a nap, he suddenly paused. His arms were covered in blood, a lot of blood. Looking down his torso Jin could see even more blood and what looked like wounds.

His brain could not make any sense of what his eyes were seeing, and he looked at the other beds. The red did not disappear from his field of vision, it seemed to expand to all over the room and there was so much of it covering his maknae-deul. Jin could also hear what Mathan was saying and he understood but at the same time the words made no sense to what his eyes were seeing, and what his mind was telling him.


In a second Jin was leaning over the bed and giving up the contents of his stomach to the floor.

Strangely that action seem to clear his mind and with no more thought he was moving off the bed. He was in the little kitchenette running water in the sink, gathering any clean towels he could get his hands on and springing into action. The only thing that Jin allowed himself to think was a mantra, ‘Stay calm, we are still alive’.

Namjoon was also trying to keep himself calm as he took in the horror show he had awoken to. He couldn’t stop staring at the rising chest movements of the members still unconscious and like Jin, was telling himself over and over again that they were all still alive.

He turned in time to see Mathan watching Seokjin with a slightly confused look on his face.

“It is his way, Mathan. If something starts to overwhelm him and he needs to shut off, he will clean and clean and clean. Right before our debut I once found him in the bathroom scrubbing the floor until his fingernails bled. Give him a couple of minutes to calm himself.”

Even as Namjoon said that Mathan saw Jin stop wiping off a wall, take a long deep breath, grab a clean towel and bowl of water and move to Taehyung’s bedside. Kneeling he began to wipe the fake blood from the sleeping boy’s exposed skin as tears trailed down his cheeks…

Looking around the room Mathan took a deep, slow breath before walking over to Jin, wrapping the man in a hug from behind before taking the cloth from his hands and pulling him flush against his chest in an effort to calm him. Mathan no longer cared that he was going to hell, or that the whole situation was wrong. This man before him needed someone else to lean on and until he pushed him away, Mathan would be his strength.

“Just breathe,” he whispered in the mans ear, using Jins native language in an effort to comfort him more. “Everyone is fine. I checked.”

Looking around once more Mathan slowly stood up, pulling Jin with him.

“Taehyung needs a shower anyway. He’ll need these bandages changed, so leave him for last. I need you to help me wake everyone else up, and I need you not to panic,” he instructed firmly. “Can you do that?”

Closing his eyes and leaning back against Mathan, Jin nodded his head. Gathering himself he turned to Namjoon.

“Namjoon-ah, you will need to be the one to wake Yoongi. It will be worse if anyone else touches him. Mathan and I will wake and settle Hoseokie to make sure that he doesn’t do any damage to his wound. Once they are awake we will wake Jiminie and Jungkookie. Then those of us that can will start getting this mess cleaned up.”

Without thinking Jin fired off orders in a rush of Hangul and grabbed Mathans hand pulling the larger man to Hoseoks bed.

“Hold…leg...still, Mathan-ah.” Jin commanded. “He not…good…waker.”

He nodded when Mathan took a gentle grip on Hoseoks injured leg, knowing from past experiences that Hobi hated being woken up before he was good and ready. Now they were about to wake him up into a bloody nightmare.

Hoseok wanted to growl because someone was gently shaking his shoulder. He didn’t want to get up yet. He knew they needed to get to rehearsal, but he just wanted a few more minutes to sleep; he had been having the worst nightmare and for some reason his leg was now hurting him.

Recognizing the voice of Jin calling him from sleep, Hobi swore he was going to have Joon-ah yell at him. As he started to open his eyes to scold Jin himself the whole nightmare came flooding back into his memories and Hoseok tried to rise, opening his mouth to scream. Luckily for them Jin knew his hyungjae well enough to clamp a hand over Hoseoks mouth before the scream emerged, speaking quickly.

“It’s alright, Hobi-ya. It's over. Those men are gone. Everyone is alright…all this is just fake, like the movies.”

Pushing his dongsaeng back down onto the bed, knowing what a horrific sight he made to the other covered in the fake blood, Jin managed to keep his voice calm and reassuring.

“As bad as it looks, none of us are truly hurt beyond what had already happened. But you have to stay still to keep from hurting your leg more.”

Jin again nodded at Mathan that it was alright to let go of Hobis leg.

“Namjoon is taking care of Yoongi and we still need to wake Jungkook and Jimin, so I need you to be still and help us keep everyone calm, okay?”

Hobi pulled Jin into a single armed hug with tears in his eyes.

“I’m your hope, you’re my hope. I’m J-hope.”

“You are.” Jin whispered back in English.

Namjoon had the foresight to grab a blanket from Yoongis nest that only had a little of the fake blood on it and cover him up to his chin. He wasn’t looking forward to this, but he was going to need the rappers help; and as much as it pained him for right now he would have to ignore the trauma that Yoongi had gone through.

“Yoongi! I need you to wake up right now! Your brothers need you and I can’t baby you anymore.”

Putting his hands on top of the blanket and pushing down with enough force that the other boy was trapped beneath, Namjoon shook the bed hard. Hating himself for the panicked look on Yoongis face as he woke but keeping the steel in his voice. “These sick men have made it look like we are all dead, with fake blood and wounds. None if it is real so I need you to stay calm and help with the maknae-deul and cleaning this shit up. Do you understand me, Min Yoon Gi!”

Even in his panic Yoongi responded to his leader and brothers voice. He nodded and lick dry lips, “You can get off me, Joon-ah. Your fucking heavy.”

Anything else that might have been said was drowned out by a blood curdling scream of pain and horror.

Jungkook had managed to wake on his own, an almost impossible feat as he had never willingly woken a day in his life. Looking around all he saw was blood, all over him, all over Jimin, all over the floor. His eyes could not see past the nightmare he was in to realize his hyungs were awake and moving around. Scrambling backwards off the bed in horror Jungkook hit the concrete floor and sat there, pulling his knees to his chest and rocking back and forth mumbling incoherently.

“Shit!” Namjoon breathed, hurdling over the beds and landing beside the maknae to pull him into a hug which only caused Jungkook to fall further into his self-imposed torment.

“Jungkookah!” Namjoon said firmly as he fought to contain the boy. “Jungkookah! Stop! It’s fake! He’s okay! Jimin is OKAY!”

Kookie just clung to his hyungs arms as tears streamed down his face, his breathing out of control.

“Someone get Jiminie up!” Namjoon roared as Jungkook emptied the contents of his stomach all over the floor before descending into a full blown panic attack. “Kookie…breathe. It’s okay. We’re all okay. It’s over. It was all fake.”

Jin had left Hoseok to wake Jimin, jumping out of the way when the boy jumped straight out of bed, looking wildly around the room before his eyes settled on his lover.

“Kookie,” he breathed, falling to his knees in front of the younger boy and pulling him close.

Jungkook cried harder as he clung to his boyfriend, jumbled nonsense falling from his lips as he tried to calm himself down.

On the other side of the room Yoongi stood looking down on the man he had neglected for weeks now as he tried to remember how to breathe, and as he tried, and failed, to convince himself this would never be real life. Taehyung would never be so…

“Shame on you Min Yoongi,” he whispered to himself.

Mathan slowly rose from where he was and looked around, trying to formulate a plan.

“No one move,” he said. “I’ll…”

Trailing off Mathan walked out the door returning several minutes later with a large cart loaded down with everything imaginable. Towels, blankets, garbage bags, personal items, medical supplies, cleaning materials, he had cleaned out the supply store in one swipe.

“Let Taehyung sleep. There’s nothing he can do,” Mathan said.

“Jin…you, Jimin and…Jungkook can…clean…something… Namjoon, you help Hoseok to the bathroom and help him wash off. If he sits on the toilet he can help you if you need him to. Do not let him walk on his leg. I’ll figure that out later. Yoongi, you go wash off in the other bathroom. When you three are done Jimin and Jungkook can take a bathroom and Jin can have the other one. Then I want all of you to sit down and calm down and I’ll finish cleaning this mess up, am I understood?” he asked as he looked around. “When all of that is done I will wake Taehyung up and you guys can help him wash off and I will fix his bandages. Any questions?”

Jin just shook his head as he and Namjoon passed out directions, each member doing as they were told, but choosing to help Mathan with the cleanup as he diligently worked to return the room to a less gruesome place than it currently was. As Jin and Jimin were piling the last of the laundry, Jungkook and Hoseok now fast asleep, Mathan took Namjoon to wake Taehyung up, slowly sitting him up and cutting the bandages off before his brain fully activated so that he would not fall into a panic over the blood.

Once the bandages were off, Namjoon, under careful instructions from Mathan, helped Taehyung to the bathroom where he washed the boy off before helping him in to new clothes and helping him back to bed where Mathan showed Namjoon and Jin how to change his bandages to keep his arm from moving before checking the stitches and giving the boy a muscle relaxer.

“I’ll be in the control room tonight,” he said softly as he prepared to walk out the door.

The boys nodded in relief knowing tonight they would have peace, but also knowing if they needed him, their dark angel would be to their rescue in a heartbeat.

“Thank you, Mathan,” Namjoon said, some unreadable emotion in his voice.

“Please don’t thank me,” Mathan said. “You were right when you said I was a monster. But even monsters have their limits. I just…reached mine.”

With one last look around the room, Mathan opened the door and disappeared down the darkened hall, leaving the boys alone to their prison, and their nightmares…

The Shower

Chapter Summary

A short little present done as an insert scene for BTS Kidnapped! Chapter 25 for reaching 1000 views. Thank you so much to everyone who has given this story a chance.

This insert is the sole work of Lady Midnight (aka Sandra) who kills me with her amazing talent.

The Shower

Mathan had a short amount of time before he took over in the control room; long enough to throw away the blood splattered clothes, jump in the shower, and grab a sandwich. Not that he had any interest in eating...not after watching that horror show and its aftermath. But he had to keep up his strength, especially if he was going to get those boys out of this nightmare alive.

In the room that was his, Mathan slammed and locked the door, stripping every piece of clothing off his body. When he hit the small bathroom he turned on the shower full blast and stepped into the stall, letting the cool water run over his skin taking all the fake blood with it. He quickly soaped himself up but when his hand brushed against his cock, a sudden image flashed in his mind. An angelic face with full pouting lips, soulful eyes that he could drown in, skin as soft as silk, and a body that Mathan had begun to take notice of way too much lately. Even with the weight loss the young Korean man still had a well-toned form and the idea of pinning that body underneath his own had Mathans hand slowly moving up and down his hardening member.

Closing his eyes even as he damned himself, Mathan let the fantasy play in his minds eye.

“Mathan-ah…..” Jin whimpered as the larger man pulled him under the water in the shower.

Not giving Jin any chance to resist Mathan backed him into the corner pulling clothes off right and left until the young man stood naked and wet. He swooped in claiming those full lips with his own, nipping and biting until they parted, giving Mathan access to the treasure inside.

He swallowed the low moan Jin was helpless to control, slanting his head to deepen the kiss as his tongue teased, then sucked Jins into his own mouth.

Jin pulled away to try and catch a breath only to have Mathan lock lips and teeth on the pulse point of his neck. Before his head fell backwards and struck the wall of the shower, Mathan wrapped tight fingers in his wet hair and held Jins head still as lips continued to attack his neck before moving up with nips and licks along his jawline. Then the larger man claimed his lips again, but this time it was a kiss of rough passion and ownership.

Mathan drew away from Jins lips to whisper, “I am going to take you, baby…make you mine and no will ever have you.”

Thrusting a knee between Jins legs as he pushed the other harder into the shower wall, Mathan ran his hands over the Korean mans smooth back and cupping his ass, pulled the other up until Jin was forced to wrap his legs around Mathans waist to stay upright.

Even in the fantasy that had Mathan moving his hand over his cock harder, the beautiful innocence of Jin played out in his mind.

“Please love me, Mathan-ah.”

Jin wrapped both arms and legs around Mathan as heat consumed them.

Letting his cock slip between the smooth cheeks of Jins perfectly round ass Mathan thrust back and forth, every part of him wanting nothing more than to be inside the warm silk heat of this sweet mans body; but there wasn’t time. When he made love to Jins beautiful body, Mathan wanted silk sheets, champagne, and both of them covered in sweat.

Covering Jins mouth with his own he stroked the young mans hard cock as he rutted against Jins ass.

As they both cried out their releases, Mathan opened his eyes to a shower stall that he alone occupied seeing the streams of cum wash down the wall into the drain.

Damning himself as a monster as well as a pervert, Mathan dried off, got dressed in clean clothes and grabbed some food.

Sending the guard in the control room away, Mathan took his spot in front of the wall of screens, each showing a different view of the room where BTS was held. The only screen black was the one from over the door and he was going to have to backtrack on the recording to find out how it got broken during the Hoseok incident, although he could make a pretty good guess.

He zoomed the camera in on each member of BTS relieved to see that it looked like all of them were asleep. Jimin wrapped around Jungkook, Namjoon cradling Hoseok and it looked like Yoongi had finally given up his corner nest as he was sleeping in the bed next to Taehyung. Mathan could see that in sleep Yoongi had reached between the beds and was holding onto the sleeve of the tshirt that he and Namjoon had changed the wounded boy into.

When Mathans gaze moved to the next bed holding the star of his shower fantasy, his breath caught in his throat and came out a low growl.

In his sleep Jin had pushed the blanket down below his waist, revealing the flat hard planes of his stomach. The shirt he was wearing had ridden up enough that a good deal of skin was showing above the waistband of his sweats; and Mathan could make out a fine line of hair running from Jins navel and disappearing into the sweats.

But it was the sight of Jins fingers stroking the exposed skin as his head arched back, sighing out Mathans name that had the man in the control room growling.

Mathan was well and truly fucked now…

Part Twenty-Six

Chapter Summary


Chapter Notes

TRIGGERS!!!! Direct mentions of self harm/attempted suicide. One very short 4 sentence paragraph but be warned.

If you have thoughts of suicide or self harm, know that there is help. I have been down that dark road myself. My inbox is always open if you need someone to talk to and because of a million different reasons I keep odd hours. [email protected]

Part Twenty-Six

Less than seventy-two hours later, hearts broke world-wide as a gruesome execution style video surfaced on YouTube from an otherwise unused account with an untraceable IP. YouTube was flooded with reports, news stations were inundated with calls, and Bang Shi-hyuk was forced to sit in his office and identify the boys in the video. ARMYs greatest fear had been brought to life. Bangtan Sonyeondan…was dead. Murdered in their sleep by faceless men who spoke of things they did not know. The world had wanted the kidnappers to be terrorists, and so terrorists they had become.

The world was outraged as the demand for answers from the South Korean government grew. Who had the right to condemn these children to death? Had the officials not been warned that this would happen? Who was being held accountable for this heinous crime? Where were the bodies? Would no one pay to ensure a proper burial for South Koreas brave men who had been sacrificed for a nonexistent greater good? Had their families found out from watching the supposed live feed on YouTube as well? What did they have to say about it all? Would there be a memorial?

Answers however, didn’t come. As an ongoing investigation no details could be given other than there had been no ransom demand for the bodies and no further contact from the terrorist organization responsible for the murders of Kim Seokjin, Jung Hoseok, Min Yoongi, Kim Namjoon, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, and Jeon Jungkook, better known as Bangtan Sonyeondan. No plans had been made to recover the bodies, but a joint memorial service was being organized by the families as a final way to honor their sons who had lived, and died, as one.

BTS was up, sitting around the table and conversing amongst themselves when the door banged open and the leader stepped in with two of his unmasked lackeys.

“Good morning gentlemen,” he said from behind his disguise. “Everyone is recovered I see?”

The boys wanted to vomit as they imagined the evil smug grin on the monster’s face.

“I thought,” He purred, “my stars would like to see what they created.”

Namjoon tensed at that, realizing what was coming.

“Number one on YouTube until they took it down but, no matter, we made sure to send all the major news outlets a copy too. No point in being selfish after all.”

Jin, having a slightly better understanding of the English language, wanted to be sick. This was going to be bad.

Sitting the laptop down on the table, the leader turned it around, showing a pitch-black screen and pressing play.

The video was something worse than the worst horror movie they had ever seen. To someone NOT in Hell, it was real. The murder of seven young men, presented as a video for the world to see. Strangers. Fans. Mentors. Friends. Family.

The scene opened to muffled sounds as the camera came in to their cell, capturing the faces of everyone but Taehyung as they slept, Namjoon curled in to Hoseok, Jin sitting by Yoongi’s makeshift bed, Kookie and Jimin wrapped so tight in one another it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. The boys were sick when they realized they had no idea when the footage had been taken.

It was obvious they were sleeping, and when Jimin realized what was happening he pulled Jungkook in to him, pressing the younger man’s face into his neck and holding him there to keep him from the nightmare that had sent him into a night of horror when all this first happened.

“That will not do Mr. Park,” the alien voice barked out sharply, pausing the video and pointing at Jungkook. “All eyes must watch the movie or all will be punished.”

Namjoon laid a hand on Jimin’s arm, shaking his head.

“He has to watch, Jimin-ah, or we all pay the price.”

Jimin wanted to argue but the look on his leader’s face broke him and nodding he pulled Kookie upright.

“We have to watch, chagiyah…but remember it is all make believe. None of it is real, we are still here.”

Glaring at the masked face with all the hate he had burning inside of him, Jimin still pulled Jungkook as close as possible while looking at the screen.

“Very good, Mr. Park. One mustn’t miss any of this excellent movie magic.”

The masked figure hit the play button and the video resumed.

On screen the door banged open and in came a guard carrying an unconscious Taehyung which said guard threw into a bed that now held Jin. Standing up the guard pulled out a 9mm gun and shot Taehyung three times; twice in the abdomen and once in the chest, his body convulsing briefly with each shot fired and blood blooming from the contact points.

Yoongi had a hard time holding in the bile that was surging up from his stomach. He wanted to scream, he wanted to fall on his knees and beg this monster for answers as to why it was doing this to them. Had they done a great evil in a past life that demanded they endure this hell to make atonement; but all he could do was stare at the screen as his throat closed up and the tears dried up in his eyes.

Next the guard ‘shot’ Jin, but the boy’s body never moved. With the dark lighting, and the sedatives they were on taking a fuller effect, it simply looked like the boy quit breathing as blood trailed down his temple, his body relaxing.

Yoongi was ‘hit’ with the butt of a gun, causing blood to trail from his mouth before being ‘shot’ as well, his body going lax and the covers falling away from him to show how skinny he had gotten.

Every attack was different, but every one ended the same until blood was splattered everywhere and a faceless lackey went around ‘checking pulses’ before confirming every one of them dead, even holding a mirror beneath Hoseok’s nose to show no air was being processed. It made all the boys sick, tears streaming down Taehyung’s face as he realized his grandmother had probably seen this and worried that it could cause her already weak condition great harm.

Hoseok sat frozen as a thousand thoughts ran through his head. This could not be real. Surely the monsters were not that cruel.

“What…about payment?” Namjoon managed to choke out as his mind spun on the fact of the ransom definitely being cancelled now.

“The pain felt by your fans and loved ones is enough for now,” the leader said with glee. “In time, we will send proof that you are still very much alive, and this time, our demands will be met.”

Namjoon was having a hard time processing words and as such all he could do was give the man a confused look which cause him to release an evil laugh as he pulled something else up on the laptop and turned it back around, pushing it towards the leader.

“Feel free to search the internet if you do not believe me. All of it is there.”

Namjoon looked at his brothers before slowly reaching out his hands and laying his fingers on the keyboard.

“Bangtan Sonyeondan dead.”

In seconds hundreds of articles popped up, each confirming what the seven now feared. The world thought they were gone. Press releases from law enforcement, family, BigHit, fans, all of it was there.

“Joon-ah…” Jin said slowly as he pointed to one article.

“Memorial Services To Be Held for Bangtan Sonyeondan. Families To Remember Their Sons As One.”

Hitman Bang sat in his office, awaiting a call from the United States State Department. In a last ditch effort to change minds in his own government he was appealing to some of the U.S.’s top terrorism experts. He had to convince the South Korean government that whoever these people were, they were not terrorists and he must be allowed to pay the ransom. His boys had already been in the hands of these monsters for almost three months and he could not bear to think of what they had been forced to endure. He had to bring them home even if it was the last thing he ever did in this life.

He jumped up from his desk in a rage when a staff member burst in. It was the heart-wrenching sobs coming from the young man that stopped Hitman cold. Those tears and the look in the young mans eyes told Hitman that the nightmare that he had been fighting these past months had just become a reality. The seven young men that he had nurtured and cherished were all dead and he had failed them.

His phone rang and the voice on the other end was giving him news he now already knew and asking him to come in and verify the identities of BTS in a video that was now making the rounds on the internet. Even with all the tears and crying going on throughout the headquarters of Big Hit Entertainment, all could hear the primal scream of pain, rage, and grief that came from the office of the CEO.

Anna Kelly was at home in Ohio on her computer searching for local BTSARMY who might be hosting any fundraisers close by. Over the last several weeks she and and her friends had traveled all over Tennessee, Kentucky, and Indiana going from event to event selling their custom made jewelry to help raise money for Bangtan Sonyeondan. Their small group had been able to raise close to eight thousand dollars and in the morning they were joining other groups around the country to send the money raised so far to Big Hit Entertainment.

Her attention was captured when her Youtube notification dinged that a new BTS video had been uploaded.

Anna clicked on the link given and was dumbstruck at what she was seeing. At first her mind did not want to accept what she was looking at and she could not stop herself from rewinding and watching the video several times.

There were no tears. Anna calmly set the video to loop, walked into her bathroom and slit her wrists.

Luckily Annas mother had come to check on her daughter when she saw the news about BTS on the T.V. Spotting her daughter on the floor she screamed for her husband to call 911 and held Annas wrists until paramedics arrived.

November 1st, 2016, was the day that officially marked the end of an era. It was bitterly cold…and wet. The weather was consistent for the time of year, but more fittingly, the rain reflected the hearts of millions. It was as if the angels in Heaven themselves were crying for the seven souls the world had lost.

Bangtan Sonyeondan had officially been declared dead by the South Korean government and a joint funeral was now underway for the members. Where once had been sunshine and laughter and joy, only darkness and despair remained. Everywhere you looked people sat in a heartbreaking silence, tears streaming down their faces as they stared at seven empty coffins that should not yet be, and wondered where it all went wrong.

'Why,' the people asked. 'What did our sons do to deserve this fate?'

The world was not mourning the loss of an idol group, or celebrities. They were mourning the loss of brothers, confidants, sons, and friends. Seven souls so pure and giving that they had managed to touch people they had never even met with just a few simple words of understanding and hope.

From almost all parts of Seoul a dull roar could be heard until one got close to Jamsil Olympic Stadium and realized what they were truly hearing. It was the screams and wails of thousands in mourning.

The stadium had opened its doors, free of charge, in order to try and accommodate the thousands of people expected to attend the memorial from all over the world. News stations worldwide had been granted permission to broadcast the event, and a lottery had been created to hand out tickets. With seats reserved for high ranking officials, members of the entertainment community, family, friends, and news outlets, it was expected that roughly 69,000 fans would be granted entrance into the venue with another 20,000 expected to gather in the streets. All of South Korea was in mourning and at any given time the wails of thousands of broken hearts could be heard.

ARMYs most beautiful moment had come to a violent and unimaginable end.

The funeral for Bangtan Sonyeondan had begun. The families had banded together and agreed that it would be one service for all seven. They had been together in life, and so they would be together in death. As there were no bodies returned to them for burial, a large picture of each member was carried in by a pallbearer chosen by Hitman and the families.

Inside the stadium, the atmosphere was silent as the crowd sat in a numb denial of what they were about to do. Seven well-dressed men made their way up a center aisle, each one holding a picture of a member of BTS, carrying it to the appropriate empty coffin and sitting it on a stand. The screams and wails rose in volume as each picture was placed.

Although the families of each member were numb in their shared grief, they could not help but be touched by the outpouring of grief and love being shown to their sons. Nothing could give them back what had been taken from them, but there was some comfort in the knowledge that their sons had touched so many lives around the world; and that they would never be forgotten by those who had loved them in this world.

A group of idols from some of the biggest entertainment companies in South Korea walked onto the stage carrying microphones and moved to stand behind the seven coffins. Then they began to sing. If not for the sound system within the stadium the cries of all the fans attending would have drowned out the BTS’ song being sung.

Don’t think of anything

Don’t say anything, not even a word

Just give me a smile

I still can’t believe it

All of this seems like a dream

Don’t try to disappear

Is it true? Is it true?

You, you, you’re so beautiful, I’m scared

Untrue, untrue, you, you, you

Will you stay by my side?

Will you promise me?

If I let go of your hand, you might fly away and break, I’m scared

Please stop the time

If this moment passes (if this moment passes),

This will become something that’s never happened and I'll lose you, I’m scared

Butterfly, like a butterfly

Just like a butterfly, butterfly

Butterfly like a butterfly

Just like a butterfly, butterfly

You’re just like a butterfly

From afar, I steal a glance at you because I'm scared to lose you if I touch you

You are shining so brightly, you save me from this pitch darkness

With your light touches, I forget the reality

It’s like a wind that gently strokes me

It’s like a dust that gently drifts along

You’re there but somehow I can’t reach you, stop

You are like a dream like butterfly

Untrue, untrue, you, you, you

Will you stay by my side?

Will you promise me?

If I let go of your hand, you might fly away and break, I’m scared

Please stop the time

If this moment passes (if this moment passes),

This will become something that’s never happened and I'll lose you, I’m scared

In my heart, I know something is missing

I don’t know if this is reality or a dream

My "Kafka on the Shore"

Don’t go to woods over there

My heart is broken and shattered to pieces, being melted down

( I just want to be vaporized like this)

But my love is forever

It’s all free for you baby

Will you stay by my side?

Will you promise me?

If I let go of your hand, you might fly away and break, I’m scared

Please stop the time

If this moment passes (if this moment passes),

This will become something that’s never happened and I'll lose you, I’m scared

Butterfly, like a butterfly

Just like a butterfly, butterfly

Butterfly like a butterfly

Just like a butterfly, butterfly

The families, politicians, those in the music industry, and international guests watched in amazement as thousands of Bangtan Bombs suddenly lit up the stadium held above heads, each with seven long black ribbons blowing in the cold November wind.

Hitman Bang stood and made his way to the stage, some looking at him in surprise as he was supposed to speak last, right before the coffins were to be carried out of the stadium for the procession through the city. Looking to the cameras much like a man who had not slept for quite some time, he cleared his throat and spoke.

“There are many who want to come up onto this stage and make sad and moving speeches about Bangtan Sonyeondan to show their grief to the families, to the fans, and to the world watching…but I will not allow that. Because many of those who want to make those ‘heartfelt’ and ‘touching’ speeches are the reason we are standing here now. I begged on bended knee to be allowed to bring my boys home but I was told no by those who sit here.” Hitman flung out at hand and pointed at several politicians, including the President of South Korea, who were attending and scheduled to make a speech. “I stand here, a man broken. My job was simple. I was to guide, nurture and protect these seven outstanding young men and I failed. Please forgive me, Kim Seokjin. Please forgive me, Kim Namjoon. Please forgive me, Min Yoongi. Please forgive me, Jung Hoseok. Please forgive me, Kim Taehyung. Please forgive me, Park Jimin. Please forgive me, Jeon Jungkook.”

Turning his back to the crowd Bang Si-hyuk fell to his knees in a formal bow to seven empty coffins.

The boys had sat numb for days, Mathan finally coming in, slamming the door open and looking at them blankly.

“You all have to eat you know,” he said, his tone sad. “You can’t give up.”

The boys didn’t even move. Not even Jin who was usually the most willing to comply and to help.

“When is the last time you guys showered?” he asked instead, gathering no response.

“Should I just give up then? Cut my losses and run before all of us get caught?”


Rolling his eyes Mathan left the room, slamming the door behind him. The next time the door opened, the monsters had returned.

“Tsk. Tsk,” the man in the mask said. “Just because the world thinks you are dead doesn’t mean you can smell like it…”

For once, the boys did not even cower at the nightmare.

“Your big day starts in half an hour,” the monster continued unphased. “I expect you to be cleaned up and at the table to watch Act 2,” he said, slamming the door behind him.

The boys had managed to change clothes and make it to the table by the time the monsters returned, Mathan nowhere in sight. Wheeling in a large tv a faceless lackey hooked everything up and turned it all towards the boys, dimming the lights as the picture came to life.

The scene before them was a horror. Thousands of fans clad in black, ARMY bombs with black ribbons everywhere, songs being sang, and seven cars in procession, pulling up and parking in front of the stadium.

“No….” Namjoon breathed as his brain kicked in.

“Hyung?” Taehyung whispered in confusion as he looked at Namjoon.

The others were just silent as they numbly watched the caskets being removed from each car, a picture of each member being carried by their friends, the families of the boys following the caskets.

“Eomeoni,” Hoseok breathed, his hand coming up to cover his mouth.

“What is this?” Yoongi asked in disgust as he tried to process the tears he could see on his fathers face.

“…Our funeral…” Jin said, his brow furrowing.

The boys continued to watch in horror as the funeral procession made its way into the Olympic Stadium, the caskets being sat down in a semi-circle before seven well dressed men proceeded up the aisle, placing a members picture in front of the respective coffin.

The ceremony opened with seven of Bangtan Sonyeondans closest friends singing one of the last songs they had released, tears streaming down their faces as they clung to one another and remembered the friends they had lost too soon.

A priest then lead the crowd in prayer and gave a cookie-cutter speech about the tragedy that rocked the nation, and the world; meaningless words pouring from the mouth of a person they had never met as the sobs of the crowds threatened to drown out the mans words.

The camera panned the crowd for a moment before their CEO got to his feet, walking to the podium and standing, seeming to be searching for his strength before opening his mouth and speaking his truth. His boys stayed strong, not shedding a tear as he apologized for failing them, but desperately wishing they could tell him just how much he had not. They knew in their hearts that he was fighting for them, but they also knew what he had been fighting against.

Pdogg and Supreme Boi had picked their leader up off of the floor and escorted him back to his seat as a group of six young men came up to the front and bowed in front of the caskets, two of the members stepping forward, their hands brushing along the tops of various caskets as they mumbled secret messages to their friends who were no longer there.

“You owe me dinner, Jin,” Ken whispered, lingering just a bit longer as he fought to hold back the tears.

Ravi said nothing as he tried to process the loss of so many friends at one time. While he was not particularly close to Jin, they had still spoken, and Ravi and Hoseok had recently become close while Jimin was a dongsaeng he had looked forward to getting to know.

When the group was done paying their respects they were met by seven more young men who had stood and walked to the front, they themselves going to various caskets and laying hands and foreheads on them, some of the figures shaking with grief while others stood stoic before they all presented a formal bow to the last physical remainder of their friends.

Standing at the podium as one, the youngest member of the group stepped forward, using the podium as support as his brothers placed hands on him in a show of solidarity.

“Kookie…’ he began, the tears immediately coming to his eyes. “Jungkook hyung…”

Gyeom was overcome with emotions as he thought of his best friend, the tears bursting forth as he fell against his leader who took him in his arms and lead him to their seats with the help of Jinyoung, the other four members closing in around the podium as Jackson took front and center, his expression blank.

“Namjoon, hyung…” he began, his brow furrowing as he thought, “Namjoon hyung…cannot be described in words. Not any that I know at least. He was…” Jackson closed his eyes against the pain. “Kim Namjoon inspired me. He pushed me to do better, and to be better. To be the positive change I wanted to see in the world. To learn about things I wasn’t sure of and to never have fear in pursuing new and uncharted territory. He taught me philosophy and…”

All Jackson wanted to do was fall to the floor and scream in rage as anger and grief consumed him.

“I think…Namjoon-ssi would have something wise to say here but…” Jackson looked at the podium as he felt his own tears fall. ““The sky has lost a star,” he said instead, trying to channel his friend. “Seven of them…in fact. And past all of those who are mourning because it is the only way to save face in the fallout of their grievous mistakes are those of us who have lost our way because our world has become unimaginably darker and is now filled with only sadness and despair. Bangtan Sonyeondan…all of them…they were our brothers…our friends. We had stupid chat rooms and…the maknaes would…go bowling as soon as practice was over and…we kept each other company at schedules and… We loved them all. We miss them all. They were amazing, beautiful people. Everyone should strive to be like that. I will become wise like that and lead the kind of life my friends should have. To honor their memory I will live to serve others and to make the world they left behind a better place.”

Seemingly losing strength Jackson fell back against his brothers as they exited the stage together, a temporary silence falling over the crowd as several members of the audience stood and came together, bowing before the coffins and then taking the podium.

“Park Jimin…” the boy began, “Jiminie is a dongsaeng I liked a lot. And I respected him a lot. I can’t…” Taemin shook his head. “I’m so sorry that your son was taken from you,” he said as he looked to where Jimins parents sat. “And…words… Your son was amazing. His talent and… He was kind. He watched out for his elders and…”

At that point Taemin broke down in tears as Kai pulled him to him, tears falling down his stoic face as well.

Next to take the podium was an angry looking young man, tears already in his eyes. The pain this one felt was real. Opening and closing his mouth several times, Baekhyun had to close his eyes just to speak.

“Words…cannot begin to convey this hatred that I feel in my heart. I fear that if I speak…these ugly thoughts will bring shame on what this day is but…things need to be said.”

Opening his eyes, he seemed to make eye contact with every person in the arena.

“Kim Taehyung-ssi was my dearest friend. It didn’t matter that our companies were different, or that we competed against each other for awards, or that one of us found more success than the other. It doesn’t matter that our fans hate each other. What matters is that he was loyal to a fault, never bringing our work into our friendship. With him I was just Byun Baekhyun. We played video games and watched anime and more often than not he offered me advice on life even when it should have been the other way around. As his sunbaenim…his hyung…”

Baekhyun couldn’t stop the tears as they fell, his voice turning angry.

“I should have protected him. From everyone. I should have protected him from the industry, and politics, and fans. I should have defended our friendship more. I should have been brave enough to show who I really am so that if I was lacking, at least everyone would know. Instead I hid behind my label and my group and I pretended to be this cookie cutter little boy that none of us are and…I wish I hadn’t done that. I wish…I had been able to tell you the stories behind those selfies we posted on our accounts and…I wish you knew that the Taehyung you saw on stage was the same kid that was my best friend. He never tried to hide who he was. And I never defended him. But I will defend him now. I will reflect on myself and…I will fight for what the people gathered here today have lost. I will fight for answers and…I will look for justice for my friend.”

Hanging his head the man walked off stage and out of the venue, no longer able to settle the restlessness in his heart to sit and watch the farce that the people gathered around him were putting on.

The crowd looked around, knowing more people were scheduled to speak as one lone child stood and made his way to the podium, something clutched to his chest and his expression emotionless. He had already died inside.

Instead of going to the coffins, he stood and looked at the crowds, his eyes searching for something he was unable to find.

For what seemed like an eternity the boy was silent.

“Yoongi hyung gave this to me,” he said, his tone conversational as he held up a book. “He told me…he told me to read this and…”

The crowd could tell the boy was fighting to keep his emotions in check.

“My name…is Lee Jihoon…I am nineteen years old…and…when I grow up…”

“I met Yoongi hyung many years ago now. He is a hyung I admired a lot and when I finally got the chance to meet him as a recognized singer…”

“I’ll never get the chance to return this book to him,” Woozi said, the tears now evident in his voice. “I’ll never get the chance to tell him how grateful I am…how honored…I am…that a hyung like him found me worthy enough to share his most precious thoughts with. And he will never get the chance to hear how he saved my life when I was so close to my end. How, when I had given up on myself, he still fiercely believed in me and took the time to make sure I would be okay… I wish I could have done that for him…”

Finally losing his emotional battle Woozi turned and approached the casket with Yoongis picture in front of it, gently placing the book on top of it, and uttering words no one could hear but everyone could understand before falling to his knees with a heart-wrenching sob and pressing his forehead to the floor begging the gods above to bring his brother back.

The seven sets of parents rose as one and made their way to the stage as the cries and wailing grew louder. It was Min Yoongis father who pulled Woozi to his feet, enfolding the young man in a tight embrace as they both wept for the one they had lost.

Keeping the heartbroken boy with him, Mr. Min joined the other parents standing in front of the podium. All of them had joined hands except for Mr. Jung, Jung Hoseoks father. He walked forward to speak into the microphone.

“My son was Jung Hoseok, but the world called him J-Hope. And he was hope. He was hope and laughter and boundless energy that sometimes wore his mother and I to exhaustion. Our friends and family always told us to keep an eye on that one… That he would change the world one day.” Mr.Jung cleared his throat as the words started to catch. “When Hoseok told us that he wanted to dance, we were less than pleased. Most fathers want their sons to follow after them and share their dream. Because of that we clashed. In anger I gave him a single year. ‘Go out and dance, if that is what you want but if nothing happens, then you return home, settle down, go back to school and follow me into the business,’ I told him. I didn’t count on the power of his dream and the determination he carried within. The day he came to me and said he was joining Big Hit and a group called Bangtan Sonyeondan was the happiest I had seen him.” The man was forced to step back from the microphone as tears overwhelmed him.

Wrapping an arm around her husband Mrs. Jung moved to speak.

“We watched our son touch so many lives as a member of Bangtan Sonyeondan, sometimes with something as simple as a smile or a laugh. And in that moment, I could see the small boy who brought me a flower or made funny faces so I wouldn’t be sad anymore. Because that was who he is…was...” She struggled to stop the tears, so she could go on. “The last time we saw our son we had words with him. And now we can never apologize to him and tell him that he will always have our love and acceptance. So I say this to all the mothers and fathers out there…hold your children close and tell them of your love every day. Do not let a single moment go with them.”

Mrs. Jung fell into her husbands arm with a wail that was echoed throughout the stadium.

The father of Min Yoongi stepped up to the microphone still holding on to the crying Woozi. When he spoke there was grief but what came out was anger.

“My son was Min Yoongi . The world called him Suga.” Turning his gaze to the group from the South Korean government, he raged. “But where is my son? He isn’t here, there is only an empty box on this stage. My son lies dead somewhere and I cannot hold him one last time. These other parents want to know where their sons are! All you have given us are empty boxes. Our sons would be alive and home with us now if you had not interfered. You meddled in something to make yourselves look important and now my son and their sons are gone, and I don’t even have a body to bury.”

In his rage and grief, his voice rising to a scream, Mr. Min moved as if to attack those government officials sitting near his sons hollow coffin only to be held back by Woozi and Mr. Jung.

The parents of BTS moved off the stage and encircled both Mr. Min and Woozi, shaking their heads no when the South Korean President made to step towards the stage.

They would not allow any of the government officials to speak now and the anger growing inside the stadium only needed a small spark.

A large group of young men, including those who had spoken on stage made their way back; six taking position at each coffin and seven carrying the pictures of a deceased member of Bangtan Sonyeondan. As each coffin passed the area where the parents had been sitting, those parents took their place behind it and followed to the waiting cars. The sound within the stadium rose as the fans began to sing.

Why can I still not give up on you?

I hold onto the withered memories

Is it greed?

The lost seasons I try to restore, I try to restore them

Blaze them brightly, flare

It was all pretty, wasn’t it? Our pathroads

But it all withered

The dead leaves fall down like tears

The wind blows and everything drifts apart all day

The rain pours and shatters

Until the last leaf, you you you

After each hearse was loaded and the families into limousines, the procession started to make its way out of the stadium. Suddenly thousands of paper lanterns began to rise into the air as a new song was started; but this song was picked up by the thousands waiting outside as the procession made its way past. And even more lanterns rose to join the rest floating on the cold November wind.

Today, too, I go on living just enough

Keeping in step, wearing my feet out just enough

The sun makes me breathless

The world has stripped me of all I have

Without a choice, with no other alternative,

Under the moonlight I am picking up my scattered self

Why are you crying

It’s only you and me here

Me and you

Oh you

The funeral of Bangtan Sonyeondan had come to an end but the mourning for them never would.

Part Twenty-Seven

Chapter Notes


Part Twenty-Seven

When Jungkook went to move with him, the figure spoke, freezing all of them in place.

“I need a moment of your time, gentleman. So, if you would be so kind as to gather around Mr. Kim and Mr. Jung,” he said as Namjoon gave the masked figure a look that promised death if given the chance.

Moving on auto-pilot they all went to the bed where Namjoon had carried Hobi earlier, the later still fighting to control the tears that refused to stop falling. They crowded around their leader afraid of what new hell awaited them, but knowing there was no escape from it. Only death would free them and the members of BTS had not broken to the point where they would seek death, but what that monster had shown them today had pushed them one step closer.

The masked figure sat down on the bed facing BTS.

“Mr. Jeon, would you be so kind as to join me for a moment.”

The six looked from the masked figure to their maknae in fear.

Jimin grabbed Kookies arm attempting to stop him from leaving his side, but Jungkook just smiled weakly at his lover and did as he was told.

All of them were afraid when the figure patted his lap, indicating that he wanted Jungkook to sit there. The stark terror now visible on their youngest members face had Namjoon getting to his feet.

“I don’t believe I gave you permission to move, Mr. Kim.”

As he spoke the masked man yanked Jungkook onto his lap causing the young man to let out a startled squawk.

“And if I were you, Mr. Park, I would rethink taking another step. You would not want your pretty boyfriend to pay the price, now would you?”

Jimin froze at the menace coming from that alien sounding voice.

Taking Jungkooks face in one gloved hand the figure turned it one way, then another. Then to everyones horror the same gloved hand ran over the maknaes arm, over his chest and down to his upper thighs. They could see the violent tremors that were starting to overtake Jungkooks whole body but were powerless to help in any way.

The masked man gave a chilling laugh in that alien voice as tears welled in Jungkooks eyes, spilling out to slide down his cheeks.

“Oh my… You are very pretty. I am sure there are countless out there who would give anything to make you their little pet, especially if you cry so prettily for them,” the figure said as he took the young mans trembling chin in his fingers. “Would you do that, pet? Cry pretty for them as they did naughty things to this luscious body of yours?”

Not able to stand the fear that he could see building on his brother face any longer, Yoongi stepped forward.

“Leave him alone,” he said, trying to keep the trembling out of his voice. “You…you can have me instead.”

The thought of any of his brothers having to endure the same abuse that he had suffered through was too much for Yoongi. He would rather sacrifice himself to this monster than see it happen to another.

“Why Mr. Min, how noble of you. Willing to throw yourself on the sword rather than see this pretty thing bent over and fucked within an inch of his life.”

The figure laughed as he pushed Jungkook off his lap to the floor.

The young man wasted no time in scrambling away and throwing himself into the arms of Jimin.

Walking up to Yoongi who had to lock his muscles to keep from flinching away, the masked man circled the young man.

“An interesting offer, Mr. Min, no doubt. The two who had you did say it was an enjoyable experience, one they wouldn’t mind repeating. But I am a person of business and I never mix pleasure with business.”

With that the masked figured walked out leaving seven souls wondering what new twisted game was being played and if would they survive it.

‘A few more days’ turned in to one hundred and thirteen days.

For one hundred and thirteen days the members of BTS had been locked in a concrete box with no interaction with the outside world.

No one was coming to rescue them.

“We have to do this ourselves,” Yoongi whispered one day as they all sat at the table. “We have to get out of here on our own.”

“How?” Jin asked. “There are at least seven of them.”

“They’re huge,” Jimin said.

“We can’t die here,” Hoseok said.

“No one is going to die,” Namjoon said, his face hard.

Three doors down in the control room that had become his living quarters Mathan Foley thought the same thing. If he had known how serious the boys were in their plan to escape, he would have altered his own.

As he sat there in thought Mathan realized he would not be able to help these men with a few simple phone calls. He would have to ask these people face to face and brace himself for rejection and denial. These were some huge favors he was cashing in and he knew many of the people he intended to ask wanted nothing more than to remain as the shadows they were.

Making up his mind Mathan pulled in some nameless lackey, telling him to take over and departed for his room, packing a ruck sack and walking out of the compound without speaking to a soul. No one could know what he was about to do. Not even the beautiful angel he intended to set free.

Three days had passed since Mathan had left before the guys started to miss him.

“Jin hyung,” Jimin whispered that morning. “Where is your friend?”

Jin looked at the younger boy in confusion.

“The one who fixes everything,” Jimin said in explanation. “Where is he?”

Jins brow furrowed in thought. Where had Mathan gone? Had something bad happened to him?

Just then the door banged open and a lone guard came in, his posture arrogant. With the way that Taehyung froze and Jungkook managed a death grip on Jimin the others deduced who it was and encircled the two protectively.

“Your little traitor friend ditched,” the alien voice said with a laugh. “Guess he chickened out. Got a better deal. Maybe he realized he wasn’t getting that sweet piece of ass he really wanted.”

The boys just glared at the guard.

“I can call boss man in if you don’t believe me?” the guard offered. “He is so pissed right now. Maybe he can take that anger out on one of you?” he suggested, facing Jimins direction, his posture threatening.

Jimin tried not to recoil as he felt the evil man eye him, but after everything that had happened he could not help but be scared.

“Where is Mathan-ah?” Jin growled, refusing to believe man had just left him…them.

The guard laughed.

“Packed his things and ran like a chicken shit would. I told you. Him getting close was all a favor for daddy dearest. Guess it got to be too much for the softy…”

“I…ignore him, hyung,” Namjoon breathed, refusing to believe the words being said.

The only thing that was keeping his eldest brother from breaking had now disappeared, and Namjoon knew it would only take a few words to break the mans resolve thus breaking him.

“I’m in charge now,” the guard said. “Play nice or I promise you will pay. No one is here to care about what happens to you. I’ll be back…”

Standing there a moment longer the man looked at each member before turning and walking out the door, slamming it behind him.

Brushing off the hand that Namjoon laid on his shoulder, Jin went into one of the bathrooms, pulling the curtain closed to shut out the others. He needed to be alone with the thoughts racing around his head. In all this insanity they now found themselves living in, was he willing to put his faith in someone who had snatched him from the life he had known?

He didn’t know this person, Mathan. And it hadn’t been that long ago that he had first seen his face. He could count the number of times they had spoken on two hands. Was he really willing to risk not only his life, but the lives of his brothers on what amounted to his trust in a kidnapper?

Letting his head fall back against the wall, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes, Jin worried that every good thing he thought he sensed coming from Mathan was all just a cruel game.

His eyes flew open in horror as he suddenly remembered something that guard had said, talking about ‘daddy dearest’. Was the man that he and the others were starting to trust related to the head monster who seem to take such pleasure in tormenting them. Jin couldn’t control his reaction as he stood, then fell to his knees, crying out, “MATHAN-AH!!!!!!!!”

The curtain was yanked back and Jimin rushed in, taking his older hyung in his arms as the others crowded around the doorway.

“What is it, Jin hyung?”

The horror that Jin was now facing showed as he related what had just occurred to him.

“That guard...he said that Mathan is the son of that monster that taunts us.”

The others looked sick as they remembered what had happened recently with Jungkook. The idea that Mathan, who had tried to help them so many times, was the son of the masked figure who had brought them to this hell, was too much to bear. Was everything he said to them a lie? Had he been a player in his fathers sick, twisted games? Giving them false hope and then standing back and laughing with his father as they broke over and over again?

Surprisingly it was Yoongi who spoke up for Mathan.

“I wouldn’t believe anything those piece of shit guards say, Jin-ah. Even if it is true, I have seen the way he looks at you. It isn’t the look of a monster. It is the look of a broken soul yearning for the beauty it sees in front of it.”

Yoongi walked back to his bed and crawled in.

“We should all try to rest. I believe Mathan-ah will return soon. Don’t give up your hope in him, Jin-ah….that hope carries us too.”

Thoughts of Mathan and his return were still on all the minds of Bangtan Sonyeondan when hell broke loose the next day, catching the lovers Jimin and Jungkook in its fiery clutches.

Carl had finally caught Mathan away from the compound on some secret mission of his own. Now was his time to strike. The chance was too perfect.

Suiting up Carl grabbed two of the lowest level lackeys, making them suit up as well before bursting into the room that was BTS' prison.

“Everyone against the wall," Carl boomed as all three figures pointed guns at the boys. Slowly climbing from where they had been the seven lined up against the back wall, Jungkook in the middle, the arms of Hoseok and Namjoon bracing and shielding him.

"That one comes with me," Carl said, a deep seeded evil in his voice as he pointed his gun at Jungkook. "Now."

The hyungs wanted so desperately to fight. Even Min Yoongi was prepared to be punished again, but Kookie just hung his head and shook it. He could not let his brothers be blamed for whatever crime he had committed.

"Jungkook-ah," Jimin hissed.

"It's okay, hyung," the boy said, giving his lover a sad smile. "Whatever it is, I will endure it."

"Jungkook-ah," Jimin said again, his tone pleading.

Without giving any thought to the consequences Jimin threw himself at the one trying to take his lover from him. But so little activity had weakened the young Korean man and he was easily overpowered. He could see the looks of terror on his brothers’ faces and the pain on Jungkooks’ as the guard wrapped a tight arm around his throat and drug him from the room.

The other six could only stand helpless at gunpoint as the masked guard pulled Jimin from the room and Jungkook screamed, “JIMIN-AH!”

Jimin thought he might lose consciousness because of how tight the arm around his throat was. He knew what was coming.

Somehow Mathan had put a stop to this guards tortures but he still carried the nightmare of the dark closet. He had managed to keep the nightmares from the others, especially Kookie, but now he was being pulled back in.

He managed to draw breath when the guard stopped, dropping him to the floor.

“You didn’t learn shit from the last time, did you?’ The alien voice growl from above Jimin. “I am going to take your pretty boyfriend from you and there isn’t a damn thing you can do to stop me.”

A well-placed kick to the stomach had Jimin crying out. Then a tight grip in his hair as he was picked up and thrown into the small, dark, enclosed space. Bouncing off the back wall Jimin beat both hands and feet against the door as he screamed.


The only sound from the other side of the door was alien laughter and retreating footsteps.

Falling to the floor and curling himself into a ball, Jimin wept.

“Please forgive me, Jungkook-ah. Please forgive me… Saranghae.”

Carl returned to the room where the BTS was kept. The two other guards were keeping the six in line at gunpoint and he didn’t hesitant as he grabbed the youngest member by the arm, dragging him from the room over the protests of the other five.

“Shoot one of them in the foot if they don’t sit down and shut the fuck up,” he growled as he left.

Leading Jungkook down a long hallway the boy would never remember Carl shoved him into what looked like a bedroom. It made Jungkooks blood run cold and his mouth go dry. He almost wanted to cry at the thought of what was about to happen.

"Lay down," Carl commanded, his gun still pointing at Jungkook. "Take your shirt off and lay down."

"S-shirt?" Jungkook asked, trying to seem like he didn't understand the word.

Carl huffed through his voice box and approached the boy, trailing a finger down his chest, a smirk unseen on his face.

"Shirt. Love," Carl said again, tugging at the offending fabric. "This. Off."


“Don't play dumb with me," Carl said harshly. "I know you can speak English. I've heard it."

Jungkook looked at the masked man in surprise. Just because he had done covers of English songs did not mean he could speak the language. He knew only enough to get by if he were to be separated from his members or staff.

Nodding slowly Kookie grabbed the hem of his shirt, his fingers toying with it as he struggled with the demons in his mind. Hyung and he had not even progressed that far; Jimin refusing to push him past the point of being comfortable.

"Why?" Jungkook asked, hoping the monster would understand the question.

"You should not be so damn beautiful," the man said. "This is your punishment."

"Pun...?" Kookie was confused. He didn't know that word at all. Had never heard it before to ask Namjoon hyung what it meant.

Carl however was getting impatient.

"Take your fucking shirt off now or I swear to God your little boyfriend will die. You understand dead, don't you?"

Jungkook recoiled as though he had been physically struck. Dead he understood for sure. Closing his eyes and biting his lip until it bled, Jungkook removed his shirt, holding it in front of his torso for a moment until he felt a gloved hand brush against the exposed skin, pulling the garment from his grasp.

"So beautiful," the robotic voice whispered. "So smooth."

Jungkook squeezed his eyes shut even tighter as he felt the figure walk around him, circling him like a predator would its prey.

"I wonder what you feel like," the monster said, this time, the robotic tine gone.

It made Jungkook jump.

"Keep your eyes closed and lay down," a deep voice commanded as Jungkook felt himself pushed onto the bed. Scrambling back until he hit a headboard he felt the bed shift as a weight crawled towards him before he felt material being tied around his eyes.

"Now, my pet," the voice purred close to his ear. "Now we are alone..."

Kookie understood 'alone' too.

"Please..." he whispered.

"Please...what?" the voice asked as Kookie felt lips ghosting down his neck. It was everything he could do not to vomit.

"Let...me go," Kookie tried.

"You are mine now," the voice said, a hint of a sadistic tone coming out. "No one elses."

Jungkook trembled in fear and he could feel the blindfold becoming damp from tears he had not known he was crying. For what seemed like hours the man caressed, nipped, kissed, and stroked Kookies body, but for the most part left his remaining clothes on and never went below the waist of the boys sweats.

"Why so scared?" he would purr from time to time.

All Jungkook could do was shake his head and swallow his bile as it threatened to explode from his body.

"Sing to me like you do that disgusting bag of skin you love so much," the voice commanded some time later.

Kookie refused.

"Sing to me like you sing to him or I will break him into a thousand tiny pieces," the voice growled, sounding agitated and enraged.

Kookie had to swallow back the tears as he wracked his brain for something to sing.

"Sing this," the voice said, turning on a device somewhere and letting the soft chords of a BTS song float into the room.

Kookie hung his head. This...was not....

"Please?" he tried one last time.

"Do. It." the voice growled, deadly and low.

Biting until blood ran from his lip again, Jungkook cleared his throat, concentrated on the track, and started to sing through his tears.

"Just one day,

if I can be with you,

Just one day,

if I can hold your hands,

Just one day,

if I can be with you,

Just one day (just one day),

If only we can be together"

Two hours later the door opened again and the members of BTS that were in the room jumped to their feet.

The guard walked in pulling Jungkook behind him. Never had the five seen their maknae look so small. He was hunched in on himself, head hanging limp. He refused to look at any of them and shied away from any contact when they tried to reach out to him.

The guard who brought him back in gave them a salute as he turned and left the room.

Jungkook moved slowly towards one of the beds when he was grabbed in a tight embrace. At first, he struggled until he realized by the other persons scent that it was Yoongi. Tears he had been trying to keep inside burst forth in an agonized wail. His hyung only clutched him tighter, his tears mingling with Jungkooks.

He let himself go limp in Yoongis hold as the other led him away to the bed he was now using. There Yoongi wrapped them both in a cocoon of blankets and held Jungkook tight as they both wept for lost innocence.

“Do you think they will return Jimin soon?” Hoseok whispered to Namjoon as they sat at the table several hours later.

It was then that they heard the sound coming from Yoongis bed.

“Jimin-ah!!! Where is Jimin-ah!” Jungkooks panicked voice rose as he jumped up and franticly looked around for his boyfriend.

He rushed to the steel door and started to pound on it, screaming Jimins name.

Jungkook barely jumped back in time as the door flew open.

“Miss me already, baby?” Came that alien voice that would haunt Kookie forever.

Before Jungkook could do anything Jin was standing protectively in front of their maknae.

“Please…Jimin…back…please.” Jin begged pushing Kookie further away from the masked guard at the door.

“Well, since he sang so prettily for me, I might bring the little shit back. But all of you stay quiet or else.” Carl looked at each member and slammed the door shut.

Jungkook fell to the floor crying his lovers name.

Jimin didn’t return that day or the next. And Jungkook didn’t sleep or eat, simply sitting on the bed they shared and starring at the steel door.

On the third day the door opened and two unmasked guards came in dragging a limp figure between them.

Kookies cry of his lovers name startled awake the other five. They rose in time to see Jimin dropped to the ground with a laugh by the guards as they left.

Jungkook gathered his unconscious lover into his arms as the others surrounded them. He wanted to scream at the sight of Jimins pale skin, the black circles under eyes and the broken and bloody fingernails. What had that monster done to his precious Jimin?

“Please, chagiyah…don’t leave me alone. If you go into the dark, I will follow you, so open your eyes and come back to me, please.” Kookie begged his voice hoarse from crying for two days.

“I promise, chagiyah, that I won’t go into the dark without you,” Jimins weak voice replied as Kookie cried into his chest.

It was Jin who got everyone moving.

“Kookie, you and Namjoon help Jimin clean up,” the eldest said seeing the sweat covered clothes sticking to Jimins thin frame. “Taehyung, you get the first aid kit that Mathan left us so I can take care of Jimins fingers.”

Taehyung, who in all the time since his own attack had yet to utter a single word, smiled at Jimin and rubbed a finger down his pale cheek. Jin went back to giving orders.

“Yoongi, get some fresh clothes for both Jimin and Jungkook. And don’t you move, Hobi-ah,” he said, turning to glare at his dongaeng.

The dancer had been about to get up from the bed where Namjoon had put him when Jimin had been brought back. As everyone followed Jins orders he stood silent in the middle of their prison a single tear sliding down his cheek.

“Where are you, Mathan-ah? We can’t last much longer and we…I need your help."

Part Twenty-Eight

Chapter Summary


Part Twenty-Eight

Mathan had left in the dead of night without telling anyone and now, three days on, he regretted it. Over and over again he reminded himself he should have at least told Seokjin. Now as he rushed to find help all he could do was worry that something would happen in the time he was gone. He had wanted to make this mission a quick one but so far every door he tried had been slammed in his face telling him he was lucky if he only received the death penalty for the shit he was caught up in now.

Exhausting all of his domestic contacts Mathan dug out his passport, prayed he had not been black listed and hopped a plane to the Caribbean, hoping he would not be shot when he showed up on his old friends doorstep.

Twelve hours later he was leaving the plane in Nassau and boarding a chartered boat to a small private island that was otherwise unaccessible. The captain didn’t speak much and for that Mathan was thankful. He had no idea what he was going to say or how he was going to convince the man he had once abandoned to help him.

Walking up the beach, Mathan couldn’t help but pause and admire the sprawling mansion he found hidden in the cliffs.

“Damn, son,” he breathed as he dropped his bag and slowly approached the front door, arms raised in surrender lest he get shot.

Just as he expected a spot light hit and he heard a gun calk.

“Been a long time, Rider,” he said softly.

“Three seconds to convince me not to kill a traitor, Beorn.”

Mathan hung his head.

“M sorry,” he said honestly. “I had no idea it would go that far south.”

“Every man for himself though, isn’t it?” the man with the gun asked.

“Not anymore,” Mathan said. “I need some help and…I don’t know where else to turn.”

“Better swim your ass back to the mainland then,” the guy snorted.

“It’s dangerous,” Mathan tried.

“I’m married,” Rider said.

“I’ll pay you,” Mathan tried again.

“Do I look like I need money?” The guy asked, humor in his tone.

“I’ll make you a hero,” Mathan said, getting desperate.

“Heros lie in graves. I like being alive.”


Mathan closed his eyes and fell to his knees. He didn’t know what else to say and he was running out of aces.

“What means so damn much to you that you come half way across the world and risk being killed just to get rejected,” the man asked with pause.

“Remember when I failed my sister?” he asked, looking at the man with pain in his eyes. “I cannot fail someone like that again. And right now…I have seven people depending on me to save them from Dorian Foley and Sven.”

“Where is Kaelyn?” Rider asked softly.

“Next on my list…” Mathan admitted.

“Don’t,” Rider insisted. “If she is happy…”

“She is…”

“When?” Rider asked as he lowered his gun and turned off the bright light.

“I don’t know,” Mathan said, sounding unsure. “Everyone has told me no. You, Kaelyn, and Pyro are it. Everyone else is dead or…in prison.”

“What do you need?” Rider asked.

“Evac,” Mathan said as he thought. “A shit load of medical. Distractions. Weapons. Ammo. Pyrotechnics, obviously. Someone to have our backs until we get to safety. Maybe we need to split in to two teams. I’m not even sure.”

Rider looked at the man wide eyed, almost drooling as his mind went back to old days.

“The fuck is our target man?” he asked, trying not to sound excited.

“Bangtan Sonyeondan,” Mathan said, giving the man a look that told him this was the only truth in the world, and that he needed him to believe it.

“Come on in,” Rider said softly. “Becky has dinner. We’ll talk then. It’s too late to get back tonight. We need plans.”

Two days later Rider and Mathan were shipping out back to the mainland to catch a flight to Dublin where they hoped to catch up with a munitions specialist they had met in Afghanistan. The man had one hell of a mouth and a huge drinking problem but he had just the proclivity for pyrotechnics they required and enough know how to make one hell of an effective distraction.

“Think he’ll tell us to piss off?” Rider asked once they were settled on the plane.

“Probably,” Mathan said with a sly grin.

“You gonna tell him Kaelyns coming?” Rider asked.

“Definitely not,” Mathan said with a snort.

“What ever happened between those two?” Rider asked, turning his head to look at Mathan.

“She stabbed him with a plastic spoon when he tried to feel her up,” Mathan said with a laugh.

Rider laughed too.

“Still my little firecracker,” he said.

“Feck you both,” Pyro said, turning up his bottle and chugging it down. “Absofeckinglutely not.”

“Pyro,” Mathan said, trying to sound firm.

“No,” the man said firmly. “M not riskin’ me life for arseholes the likes of you…”

“You can blow up whatever you want,” Mathan said, “and you will be out of there before anyone is the wiser. We already have the munitions. Tons of them. Anything your heart desires.”

“No,” the man said again.

“Kaelyn will be there,” Rider tried.

“Hell no,” Pyro said.

“A million dollars,” Mathan said. “I will give you a million dollars free and clear and…pay your tab for a year.”

“I don’t want your money,” Pyro said. “I do just fine on me own.”

“If Kaelyn asked you?” Rider tried, earning a smack to the head by Mathan.

“How is she?” Pyro asked after a moment.

“Engaged, last I heard,” Mathan said with a shrug.

“Must be one hell of a guy,” Pyro mused as he waved for another bottle.

“You really gonna let Rider here have all the fun?” Mathan tried, one last time.

“I’m over my old ways,” Pyro said.

“He wouldn’t know what to do with that many miles worth of shit to blow up anyway,” Rider taunted.

Mathan smirked.

“It is a lot…” he said sagely.

“What are we talking,” Pyro asked, trying not to sound interested.

“Roughly 20 square miles of forest and farm lands. Couple of buildings. Twenty vehicles or so. Maybe some pigs…”

“Casualties?” Pyro asked, looking at his fingernails.

“At least a dozen. Civilians will be marked. Everyone else is free game,” Mathan said.

“Chances of getting caught?” Pyro asked.

“Less than one percent,” Mathan said confidently.

“Probability of escape?” Pyro asked, looking at Mathan.

“Eighty-seven. Give or take. Just make sure to blow and run.”

“Why are we doing this?” Pyro asked.

“Shits and giggles,” Mathan said, giving the man a dead ass look.

“Bullshit,” Pyro said with a laugh. “Who is she?”

Mathan choked on his drink as he looked at Pyro, eyes wide.

Rider shook his head as he snorted.

“Better question is, who is he?”

Checking in to the hotel, Mathan checked his phone and sighed. Too much time had passed and he had no idea what was going on at the compound.

“How long you been gone?” Pyro asked as he got into the elevator with the man.

“Nine days,” Mathan said softly, staring at an image on his phone.

“Make it eight days too long then?” Pyro asked.

Mathan only nodded.

“When you heading back?” Rider asked.

“We need one more person and we need to have a plan,” Mathan said.

“Think she’ll say yes?” Rider asked, he himself sounding nervous.

Mathan chewed on his cheek as he slowly shook his head.

“She doesn’t owe me any favors,” he said, his mind a million miles away in a different place and time.

“Then why are we here?” Pyro asked.

“Because Kaelyns got out of the compound before…she’s the only one who can do this…”

The three companions looked at each other, the seriousness of the situation finally sinking in as the elevator dinged and they exited to their respective rooms.

The next morning Mathan rose early, dressed nicely and left the hotel, hailing a taxi and riding to the nice part of the city, stopping in front of a swag apartment complex and getting out.

“You got this,” he said to himself as he took a deep breath and smoothed his shirt. “It’s just…Kaelyn…”

Shaking himself out of his nerves Mathan approached the doorman, cursing that he still hadn’t learned enough to speak the language correctly, and failing miserably to make the man understand him.

“Kaelyn,” he tried, holding up a picture of his sister on his cell phone. “Kaelyn Grey? Lives here. My sister?”

The doorman looked at Mathan blankly, causing Mathan to growl.

“I need to see my sister,” he tried again.

“Mr. Boo doesn’t speak English,” a smooth voice came from behind Mathan, causing him to jump. “And even if he did, he wouldn’t let you in. You aren’t on the list and it’s against the rules.”

Mathan turned around slowly, considering the girl before him for a moment.

“Sister,” he said, a sad look in his eyes.

“Mathan,” she said, shifting uncomfortably.


“Yeah,” she said. “Skip the small talk and get straight to the point, okay? I have to be somewhere in an hour, and I’m not giving you any money.”

“I need your help,” Mathan said, trying to not let his sisters attitude towards him sting.

“I’ll pray for you,” she said, her expression cold and her eyes dead.

“Kaelyn…” he breathed.

“How did you find me?” she asked, her tone as hard as steel. “Stalking is illegal you know. I could press charges. Especially since security here is so tight. How did you get their tenant list? How did you even know who to look for? I don’t think Oppa would take too kindly to you stalking him either… Or…I need the police. You just…”

“Kaelyn,” Mathan said firmly.

“What? Mathan?” she asked. “You just expect to come find me after…four years, and…ask me for help and…what? I help you because we’re family and that’s the right thing to do?”

Mathan just looked at her.

“Where were you?” she asked. “Where were you when I called you screaming for you to come and save me from those monsters? Hmm? Where were you when I was tortured and broken and…”

Kaelyn shook her head.

“I can’t help you Mr. Foley. I don’t even know you. Whatever it is, I suggest you turn around and go back where you came from.”

“I know where they are!” Mathan said, desperation setting in.

“Where who is?” Kaelyn asked in confusion.

“The…the people,” Mathan said. “The ones on the news. I know where they are…”

“Who are you talking about?” Kaelyn asked, looking at Mathan like he was ill.

“The…that band. The ones everyone thinks are dead. I know where they are. Only…they’re not dead. They’re…”

“They’re…what?” Kaelyn asked, her tone going deadly.

“They’re alive,” Mathan said. “I can prove it. I just…”

Kaelyn looked around in a panic before grabbing Mathan and dragging him inside the building, up the elevator, and through a door to a fairly large apartment.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY’RE ALIVE?” Kaelyn screamed as soon as the door was shut, wheeling around on her brother.

“That’s why I need your help,” he said in almost a whisper as he spun around looking at his surroundings.

“Don’t look at my things,” Kaelyn hissed, not wanting her brother to know the details of her super secret, super personal life.

“Will you help me?” Mathan asked.

“No,” Kaelyn said, looking at him like she could care less.

“Please!” Mathan begged.

“Why should I?” Kaelyn asked. “What’s in it for me?”


“I should call the police and let them handle that and you,” she said harshly.

“He will kill them,” Mathan said.

Something about the way he said ‘he’ made Kaelyns blood turn cold.

“No…” she breathed, her hands coming to her face as she backed in to the door.

“I can’t do this alone,” Mathan said.

“How…” Kaelyn asked.

“I don’t know how he did it,” Mathan said. “But he has them at the compound…”


“Carl…three guys I don’t know. Svens lackeys…”

“Damnit!” Kaelyn breathed. “I can’t…”

“Please, Storm…”

Kaelyn shook her head.

“That isn’t who I am anymore,” she said sadly. “I’m just Kaelyn. Boring and…anal retentive and…living the life I always dreamed of. With someone who loves me. Even when I wake up screaming at 2 am and can’t remember how to breathe. I really can’t help you…”

“They’re dying, Kaelyn,” Mathan said, looking her in the eye. “They’re dying and by now they may really be dead. But I left to find help and…you’re my last chance. Rider and Pyro are in. I just need my human blue print…”

“Why are you doing this?” Kaelyn asked. “Beyond the fact that they are seven really amazing…really beautiful…people…”

“They are,” Mathan agreed. “And they don’t deserve this.”

“Did the lion fall in love with a lamb?” Kaelyn asked, looking at her brother.

“They’re not…” Mathan started.

“Bullshit,” Kaelyn said with a laugh. “Seokjin is the only single one last time I checked, and unless something wild has happened all the rest of them should still be paired off amongst themselves…”

“How…” Mathan asked, looking at his sister, his mind blown.

“Poor Mathan,” she said with a fake pout. “I know things. That’s who I am…”


“Do you love him?” Kaelyn asked.


“Yes or no, brother,” Kaelyn said.

“I want to,” Mathan said.

“When do we leave?” Kaelyn asked. “I have excuses to make and…” All she could do was shake her head.

“We need to sit down and make a plan,” Mathan said. “And…I need to get back in and make sure…”

“Dorian wouldn’t kill them. If he is talking to Sven…”

“They’re broken,” Mathan said. “Yoongi…”

“I don’t want to know,” Kaelyn said. “Just tell me what you need and give me a time frame and I will make my excuses and board a plane. But I will not go down with your suicide mission. So you take care of shit on your end.”

“Why are you helping me?” Mathan asked.

“Because…I’m tired of watching the people that I love suffer because they think their friends are dead,” Kaelyn said. “Call me and we will have dinner. Tell Pyro and Rider to keep their hands to themselves.”

Mathan nodded as he looked at his sister, proud of how well she seemed to be doing.

“Thank you,” Mathan said.

“Don’t,” Kaelyn said. “Just…bring them home. And…don’t plead to anything more than life in prison, okay?”

Mathan gave her a sad smile and nodded, preparing to show himself out when he felt her crush in to him, wrapping her arms around him for the first time in years, tears soaking his shirt.

“I love you always,” she said softly.

“Until the end,” he said back, giving her a brief hug before walking through the door, taking the elevator, hailing a cab, and going back to his hotel.

As soon as the others woke Mathan filled them in on his success and plans for dinner which needed to be somewhere semi-private. Kaelyn had agreed to take care of that and so the three men sat down and jotted out brief plans to present to their most knowledgeable member over drinks and foreign food.

When dinner time came Kaelyn met them in the back room of a swank restaurant, ordering their drinks and food and waiting for the waiter to leave.

“I don’t care what you all do. I don’t even want to know. I just need a time and date with a rendezvous point and a list of supplies I need,” she said right off the bat.

“How am I supposed to tell you that?” Mathan asked. “I don’t know when we will do it. Probably not for another forty-five days or so. I have no idea what condition these guys are in and if it is anything close to when I left I need at least thirty to get them built back up to being able to run. One of them can’t walk at all and…”

“Can’t walk?” Kaelyn barked out. “The fuck you mean ‘can’t walk’? Which one?”

“Hoseok,” Mathan said. “I wasn’t there but he got thirty stitches in his calf.”

“Jesus,” Kaelyn breathed, making a mental note.

“So standard medical supplies and a van,” Rider said.

“We’ll have to go out the back,” Kaelyn said. “Front still trapped?”

Mathan nodded.

“What side are you on?” Kaelyn asked.

“New one,” Mathan replied.

“Can you get to the old warehouse?” she asked, trying to remember the layout in her mind. “There’s a dirt road that comes out on the other side of the mountain we could use. Leads right in to town and it’s a straight shot to the interstate…”

“I need three days and lots of cover,” Mathan said.

“The hills have eyes,” Rider said. “I’ve got you there.”

“Blow enough shit up and people will scramble,” Pyro said. “Leave the chaos to me.”

Kaelyn nodded in agreement at that.

“Plan for when shit goes wrong?” Kaelyn asked.

“Shoot our way out?” Mathan tried, knowing it wouldn’t work.

“Decoy van?” Rider asked.

Both Mathan and Kaelyn shook their heads.

“Only driver needs to know where the fuck they are going. GPS doesn’t work there,” Kaelyn said.

“Then how do we get out?” Pyro asked.

“Bitches better be in the get away van,” Kaelyn deadpanned.

“I still think we need two,” Rider said.

“One van and someone hijack an onsite. We’ll torch it and meet up somewhere,” Mathan said, to which the others nodded.

For the next hour and a half carefully laid plans were made as different situations and outcomes were negotiated before finally everyone felt confident in the idea, even if something somewhere went wrong.

“I’ll…tell my person I need to fly home to…make peace and…I’ll be state side in thirty-two days. I know a place I can stay without using a motel so time frame from there won’t matter,” Kaelyn said.

“Your…person?” Pyro asked with a smirk.

“My love life is none of your business Seamus,” Kaelyn said as she flipped him off which caused him to blow her a kiss.

“Pyro will come with me,” Mathan said. “Daddy dearest was looking for a munitions specialist anyway. Cover made.”

“And me?” Rider asked.

“There’s a hunting cabin on the edge of the property. I suggest you get your ass stateside pronto and get to work. We need surveillance and traps,” Mathan said.

“Sir! Yes, Sir!” Rider said with a mock salute.

“We good here?” Mathan asked, looking around.

When everyone nodded, the groups split and departed, Kaelyn going back home and the guys heading to the airport to get stateside as quickly as possible, knowing it would take at least two days to touch back down in the Bluegrass State and get to the compound.

Once they had boarded the plane which would take them to London, then Atlanta and finally home, Pyro and Rider almost immediately fell asleep. Mathan however was once again lost in thought of what he had left behind. Guiltily he thought of what horrors the seven men had faced, and with no small amount of fear he wondered if his angel had given up hope. He prayed with everything in him that the man had not.

“Jin...” the man breathed as he looked at a picture on his phone.

In it the man he knew was smiling, laughing at something off screen, his eyes alight with joy and his demeanor relaxed. He seemed well rested and well taken care of…nothing like the man he was now.

“I’m coming for you, Jin,” Mathan said to himself. “I promise I will get you and your brothers out of there. I just…”

Time wasn’t something they had any more, Mathan realized. He needed to get them moving but he knew in the state that they were in, none of them would make it to the evac point alive. It would take that which they did not have to get everyone as prepared as they could be.

‘I will see your ass in forty-five days,” Kaelyn had said. “Unless you contact me sooner.”

Mathan wasn’t even sure he had forty-five days. He wasn’t sure he had any.

Pulling out a pen and a piece of paper, Mathan decided to put his feelings in to words, hopeful that if he could not express himself to Seokjin face to face, he would at least have the chance to do it in writing. The man would either consider him a monster and be repulsed or…

Mathan knew there would never be the ‘or’ of his dreams. He would go down with the ship he had sailed and his best case scenario was dying in a prison cell somewhere of old age for all of the heinous crimes he had commited.

The room was quiet; the only sounds Jin could hear were the breathing of his family. Mathan had been gone over a week and he was hard pressed to hold on to that hope that Yoongi said carried them all. Only now was Jin realizing how much of a barrier that Mathan had become between them and the monsters.

They were all fading away, faster now that they had seen their own deaths and funeral played out on worldwide television.

Jin drew his knees to his chest, for the first time unable to let loose the tears he could feel inside. Why had Mathan just left them? Was that guard right? Had Mathan tired of helping them, deciding it was better for him to cut his losses and leave. He didn’t want to believe that. As crazy as it was in all this madness Jin was sure that he had seen something in the other mans eyes. Something that made his breath catch.

Unable to stay still anymore Jin moved from the bed to the bathroom, checking to make sure that each member was still sleeping.

Standing in front of the small sink, Jin stared at the grey concrete wall.

They were only given a small hand mirror in the morning to take care of their personal hygiene with and Jin realized his had not seen his full reflection in months. He could only guess at how he looked to Mathan and wondered if there was anything resembling the Jin he had been before that August night.

In a rush of sudden anger he slammed his fist down on the sink edge.

“Damn you, Mathan-ah!”

Each moment that passed that his dark angel didn’t return a little more of that hope that Jin carried inside himself died.

Part Twenty-Nine

Chapter Summary


Chapter Notes

Thank you so much to everyone who has stayed with us. I am so sorry it has taken a few days to get this part uploaded, and I promise we will try and be more diligent in uploading pieces in a timely manner but, the world has lost a star and with it we, Sandra and I, temporarily lost our way. Kim Jonghyun was such a beautiful, bright, loving, kind man, and I feel his loss deeper than I ever imagined I could.

Today is the first day of forever though, and Jonghyunnie is now an angel watching over us, which means that I too must carry on.

Saranghae, Jonghyunnie. You did SO damn well.

Part Twenty-Nine

The anger boiling inside the eldest member was still there the next day.

One masked guard and three unmasked ones came in with the morning supplies.

Both Taehyung and Jungkook flinched when the faceless one waggled fingers at them, doing whatever they could to make themselves as small as possible.

It was too much for Jin as he shouted at the monster in a low growling voice the others had never heard before.

“Leave them alone, you sick asshole!!”

The masked figure froze at Jins voice and slowly turned to face him.

”What the fuck did you just say to me?” The guard questioned in that alien voice.

Without any thought and shaking off Namjoons hand when the other tried to restrain him, Jin stepped up to the faceless guard and spit on the mask.

For a moment the figure did nothing. Then to the horror of them all, the figure pulled off the mask and removed something from around its neck.

Jungkook was startled by the sudden strangled noises coming from Taehyungs mouth. He could only stare at the now unmasked man in confusion until he spoke, and Kookies recent nightmare was given a face as well as a voice.

“Miss me yet, pretty songbird?”

Jin growled again, “Leave him alone!”

The words were barely out of Jins mouth when a fist backhanded him, sending him crashing into the table.

“You don’t tell me shit!” The man yelled at Jin, then grabbed him up by the hair and backhanded him again, this time sending Jin to the floor.

The others cried out, Namjoon and Jimin moving forward toward their fallen brother.

“Don’t fucking move!” Jins attacker shouted.

The man grabbed Jin and raised his hand a third time to strike when Jungkook whispered, “Please…don’t…hurt.”

The man turned to the maknae and smiled.

“Are you asking me nicely, pretty songbird?”

Fighting to control the violent trembling in his body, Jungkook stepped up to the man and placed his fingers around the raised fist.

“I sing again…you not hurt hyung.”

Silver tears made their way down Kookies cheeks as he offered.

The man let Jin fall back to the floor, taking Jungkooks chin in his hand and brushing lips across Kookies, whispering, “As much as I want that pretty songbird, I will have to come back another time.”

Walking to the door he instructed the three remaining guards to stay with BTS while they ate and cleaned up. But before he walked out he winked at Jungkook.

“The name is Carl, pretty songbird.”

Scrubbing a hand violently across his mouth, Jungkook knelt beside Jin as Namjoon and Jimin joined them. Together they helped Jin up and got him seated at the table. Taehyung was there with an ice pack. They could already see the bruises grow on his face and his left eye was already starting to swell shut.

Looking up at Namjoon, Jin spoke softly through a swelling jaw.

“We can’t wait for Mathan. We have to go now!”

After several moments of deep thought, Namjoon spoke.

“Right… We have to try. We don’t know when or if Mathan is coming back.”

They all turned when Yoongi broke into laughter.

“So, who gets fucked this time and can I watch. Or better yet, just bend over and I will take care of it now for you.”

All the members stared at Yoongi as if they had never seen him before. The look on his face was vicious and Jungkook reared back in horror as his hyung walked towards him unbuttoning his pants.

Namjoon reached out, grabbing Yoongis shoulder unprepared when the other turned on him, violently laying a fist across his jaw.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” Yoongi snarled.

Namjoon could only look at his brother in pain and sadness. They were coming apart at the seams and this convinced him, now more than ever, that they needed to free themselves from this Hell. He looked at the others, seeing not the friends, brothers, and lover he had once known, but pale ghosts simply waitng for the wind that would carry them into eternity.

They had to escape.

Dorian Foley sat back in his makeshift office watching BTS whisper their little plans of escape. He was looking forward to this new game, although he had no doubts about who would come out the winner. After all he was a master of the game and these boys were fooling themselves if they thought for a moment that they had any real hope of coming out on top. And of course, their own desperate need to flee would ultimately lead to BTS’ downfall.

He looked up from the screens as his brother, Carl Foley, walked in and sat down.

“Are you sure that you didn’t hit him too hard, Carl?’

“I barely tapped him, pretty boy will live.” Carl smirked as he sat across from his brother. “Did you see my pretty songbird jump to his defense. I could have taken him right there and he wouldn’t have stopped me.”

“Which is why I allowed you a brief taste. You will have to wait before you get to sample the whole meal.” Dorian promised as he sat back in the chair.

“So, have you heard anything from Mathan?” Carl questioned.

“Not a word, but I don’t doubt that he will be back from whatever tantrum he’s having. And I can tell you that he isn’t going to be happy with you.” Dorian pointed to the close-up camera shot of Jins face. “He seems to have become attached to that one.”

Carl shrugged.

Dorian just looked at his brother wondering if the man was really that stupid; Mathan could crush him in a second and not break a sweat. He knew that he could use Jin to keep Mathan reined in just as he used Jungkook to keep control of Carl. But his brothers thoughtlessness in dealing with the boys could become an issue that he would have to deal with. For now, there was a game to play and he knew he could count on Carl to be a willing player.

“Carl, how would you feel about BTS escaping?”

Dorian laughed at the stunned look on Carls face.


Dorian shook his head at his brother.

“Really, Carl, you know me better than that. A game, dear brother, a game of chase with the boys as prey. We give them the opportunity and then we have some fun.” Dorians eyes turned cold and deadly. “All of them come back alive, brother. ALIVE and UNDAMAGED. Understand, Carl?”

Carl nodded as he broke into laughter.

“What are you thinking?” he asked when his laughter died down.

“Really quite simple, say tomorrow morning, when their breakfast is taken care of the guards leave as usual.” The smile Dorian sent Carl was chilling. “But because the guards have become complacent the door doesn’t close and automatically lock like it is supposed to. Of course, the big dumb guards don’t see this, but you can bet that some members of BTS will notice. And like a starving animal seeing food for the first time those boys will not be able to resist the chance.”

“They might, out of fear.” Carl said.

“No dear brother, they have been our guests long enough and had enough happen to them that for a chance of freedom, they will jump at it.” Dorian watched the camera feed, studying the members of BTS like ants in an ant farm. “Their desperation will overcome their fear and they’ll run. Just make sure the guards stay out of sight but make enough noise to convince the boys their flight is real and not just a game.”

“The front?” Carl asked surprised.

“Yes, the death traps will be disabled but the capture traps will still be active.” Dorian replied.

Carl posed a thought to Dorian.

“What if they make it past the traps?”

Dorian looked at Carl before bursting into hearty laughter.

“Carl, do you honestly think that seven pampered Korean pretty boys would have a chance of making it through the whole area of the front without setting off one trap? Besides two of them are injured, that alone will hinder them and make them slow.” Leaning forward he tapped a finger on the screen. “But remember, don’t end the game too quickly. We must let the boys have some hope.”

The next morning rose to a tense atmosphere within the walls of Bangtan Sonyeondans prison. They were at each others throats, each having their own stance on matters they were unable to control. Taehyung felt betrayed by his lover, Namjoon and Yoongi were one word away from a fist fight and Hoseok was fighting a losing battle against the monster that had possessed the only man he had ever loved.

No one spoke when the guards came in, simply rising and completing their tasks silently. Even though they worked in tandem it was easy to see that instead of continuing with teamwork they were simply going through the motions. So it was until Jimin spoke.

“Hyung,” he said softly to their leader, a sense of urgency and unease in his tone. “These guards…they aren’t any we have seen before. They’re smaller…”

Namjoon sighed and side eyed the guards, ready to chastise his dongsaeng when he stopped and payed attention.

“Something’s up,” Namjoon said softly. “Keep your eye on them…”

Jimin just nodded and went about his tasks, taking a chance to warn Yoongi of the change in guard.

All through breakfast the three were vigilant, watching every move the guards made, and using caution when they handed in their supplies. Once breakfast was done, most of BTS went back to their moping, but Jimin stayed behind to make sure the guards really left. Several minutes after they heard the door close, Jimin was crossing the room like a bullet, his eyes wide.

“The…the door!” he spat out, causing everyones attention to snap to it.

“What about it?” Yoongi asked, unable to see the crack from across the room.

“It’s open!” Jimin exclaimed in hushed tones. “They didn’t shut it all the way!”

That caused them all to stand, Namjoon and Jin crossing the room while signaling for the others to stay back.

“What if it’s a trap?” Jin asked, looking at his leader.

“What if it isn’t?” Namjoon asked, a small amount of fear creeping in to his stomach.

“What do we do?” Jin asked, looking back at the door.

Namjoon looked at the door as well, his brow furrowing in thought.

“We try,” he said firmly, no room for argument in his tone.

Slowly reaching out a hand, Namjoon opened the door, ready to peek out when he was held back by Jin who shook his head and stepped in front of his brother, barely sticking his head out the door as he looked one way and then the other, unable to spot a soul.

“The hallway is empty,” his whispered, staying a moment longer to see what he could hear.

Namjoon popped his head out as well, observing the same thing and not hearing a sound.

Gently letting the door fall back in to place, but not allowing it to close all the way Namjoon turned around and looked at his brothers, making the split-second decision to run.

“Everyone get up,” he said softly. “Get on your shoes. We’re making a run for it while everyone is gone.”

The other five just looked at their leader as they tried to process the words.

“Hyung,” Jimin said softly.

“What if it’s a trap?” Hoseok finished, reading the other boy’s thoughts.

“We have to try,” Namjoon said with a sense of urgency. “We’ll die here if we don’t.”

Looking at each other for one split second everyone rushed to get shoes on, Yoongi helping Hoseok while Jungkook helped Taehyung.

Making sure Jin had the door, Namjoon went over to Hoseok, carefully picking him up piggyback style and making sure he had a tight hold before crossing back to the door. Jungkook wrapped a strong arm around his friend telling Taehyung to lean on him no matter what.

Making sure they had left nothing behind, the boys shared one last look before Jin flung open the door and the boys started the run for their lives.

They had automatically gone left towards the rooms they had used before, hoping the way was right.

“Where is everyone?” Yoongi hissed as he looked left and right, keeping an ear out for footsteps other than their own.

“Maybe they’re having a meeting?” Taehyung tried to joke, grabbing his ribs as a sharp pain shot through him.

“We can’t slow down hyung,” Jongkook said softly, sounding sad for his friend.

“M okay,” Taehyung said with a strained smile.

“This has to be a trap,” Jimin said as they reached the next hall, finding it once again empty.

“We are not turning back,” Namjoon said in an alpha tone.

“Which way do we go?” Hoseok asked, his leg starting to throb from the position it was in.

“Right,” Yoongi and Namjoon said as one.

Looking at each other, everyone shifted positions before taking off again.

“Reckon they’ll mail our bodies back if we get caught?” Taehyung asked.

“Shut up,” Yoongi hissed as he stopped and threw up his arms for the others to do the same.

Coming to a dead halt everyone held their breath as Yoongi closed his eyes and listened hard, pulling everyone back in to the shadows as he heard footsteps approaching.

After several minutes passed and things got quiet, they started moving again, going much faster after their supposed close encounter.

“What do we do…if we make it outside?” Jungkook asked, his eyes darting all over.

“We run like hell for whatever we can find,” Namjoon said.

“We don’t even know where we are,” Hoseok said. “How will we know what to run for?”

Namjoon slowed for a minute before going harder.

“We’ll figure that out when we get outside…”

Two hallways later the boys almost cried when they saw a door at the end of the hallway they were in.

Pausing for a second, Yoongi looked around, evaluating everyone there.

“Jiminah, take Taehyungie,” Yoongi said, seeing how tired Kookie was. “Jin hyung, can you help Nam dongsaeng with Hobiah?”

Jin nodded as he helped Namjoon transfer Hobi to his back, taking special care not to touch his leg as Jimin picked Taehyung up bridal style so that the boy could wrap his good arm around his hyung’s neck.

“Everybody ready?” Namjoon asked as he looked at his brothers. “Let’s run and never look back. No matter what. Ignore anything you see…anything you hear. Just run till you are free, okay?”

The boys around them nodded and with that Namjoon cracked open the door and looked around before throwing it open and shoving everyone out the door, shutting it behind him and running with them.

Outside was empty, and seeing several hills and trees around them Namjoon directed his members to head in the direction of the thickest patch of trees hoping the foliage would provide ample cover.

Jungkook cleared the empty field first, making it into the tree line and stopping for breath as he waited for his hyungs. Yoongi followed next, then an out of breath Jimin and a shook-up Taehyung who Jimin sat down to double over for breath.

The four waited with baited breath as they watched their hyungs crossing the remaining dozen feet or so.

Just when everyone thought they had reached safety, everything went to hell and the nightmare entered a whole new level of pain…

Namjoon heard the click of a detonator being set off, knowing it was too late to react but having no idea what was happening. Thirty seconds later the maknae line and their hyung watched in horror as something detonated two feet behind their brothers knocking the boys off their feet and sending Hoseok tumbling backwards, his mouth opened in a silent scream as he was forced to use his injured leg to stop his trajectory.

Namjoon landed on his back as stars danced in his vision and something buzzed in his ear, his head pounding from where it had slammed into the ground.

Jin had barely recovered when he felt himself being jerked violently from the ground and placed in a headlock as he frantically tried to recall what had happened, his stomach dropping as he realized they had been caught.

Slowly the buzzing was replaced by maniacal laughing as someone started clapping their hands.

“Bravo!” a deep voice said as the clapping stilled. “Bravo gentlemen! What a show! No wonder my colleague wanted me to come out here and see you for myself. I can see what he means…”

The four looked in horror as an overdressed man with long hair and an expensive smirk came walking down the field with the presence of a demon.

Approaching from the other direction was the faceless monster that had created their hell and all around every missing guard they thought they had dodged.

“So glad you could make the show,” the faceless man said, a smirk evident in his tone.

“They’re damaged,” the expensive man said.

“They will heal,” the faceless man said.

“We will discuss it once you have everyone rounded up and washed,” the expensive one said.

By now Namjoons brain had caught up to the seriousness of the situation but before he could speak he heard his hyung scream from several feet away.

“RUN!!!!”’ Seokjin shouted, trying to pull away from the guard that held him, earning the butt of a gun to the side of his head, effectively knocking him out.

The maknaes almost cried out in horror but stilled when Yoongi placed a finger to his lips.

“Those of you who are hiding, come out now, and no one else gets hurt,” the Leader purred. “Resist and I will have these three killed.”

No one moved as to not give positions away and the leader let out a cruel laugh.

“Shoot one of them,” he said, waving a hand dismissively.

“No!” Yoongi shouted as the guard holding Namjoon cocked a gun and prepared to pull the trigger.

Namjoon had closed his eyes and stilled his mind for the end, but now all he could do was feel an immense sense of betrayal. His brothers on the other side of the tree line could have been free. His demise would have been worth that, but Yoongi had acted out and given their position away.

“Come out now, and no one gets hurt,” the man purred again.

Yoongi just looked at his maknaes sadly. He could not sacrifice any of his members, no matter what.

Nodding at their hyung, the three boys hung their heads and stepped out of the tree line, hands in the air as they fell to their knees.

Carl moved out of the tree line, grabbing Jungkook by the back of his neck and dragging him to his feet.

“Shame on you, songbird, trying to run away from me,” he chastised.

When Jimin moved Carl planted a foot on his chest pushing him back to the ground.

Yoongi and Taehyung got to their feet slowly as the newcomer moved towards them. They could see Hobi being carrying in one of the large guards arms, his face bloodless as he clutched his injured leg. Namjoon was being roughly herded to them but what scared them the most was the sight of a large man with a limp Jin flung over his shoulder like a sack of flour.

“Carl!” The newcomer snapped. “That is no way to treat such a beautiful creature.”

Jimin couldn’t help shrinking away from this new threat, and everything about this man felt threatening to him. The way the mans eyes moved over every inch of his body to the sharks smile that spread over his mouth; even the hand that he held out to Jimin. All the mans fingers had large rings on them and he didn’t want to touch them, but some instinct in Jimin warned him that would be the worst thing he could do.

Talking a deep breath Jimin placed his smaller hand in the newcomers and let himself be pulled to his feet. Once standing he prayed the man would let go but instead he drew the terrified Korean man closer. His heart nearly jumped out of his chest when the man snagged his chin with the other hand and turned Jimins face from side to side. He was reminded of the masked ones actions with Jungkook and he was helpless against the tears that filled his eyes and spilled down his cheeks.

Turning to the masked one, the newcomer spoke and Jimin understood enough to feel like he was about to pass out.

“Have this one cleaned up and brought to me.”

Those members of BTS still conscious could only watch in sick horror as a massive guard took Jimin by the arm and started walking him back to the building that was their hell. But they remained surrounded by the newcomer, the faceless, one and the guards.

The faceless one then walked up to Namjoon and pointed in the direction of his brothers’ former hiding spot. From the trees right behind where they had been hiding stood several figures, and Namjoon realized they never had a chance at freedom.

“It was a trap.” He whispered.

“Of course, it was, Mr. Kim. Your every action, every whispered word, recorded and translated. I did tell you this the day I brought you here. Plus, I really wanted to know if given the opportunity would you blindly make a run for it.” The alien voice was heavy with contempt. “Foolishly you did and at what expense, Mr. Kim.”

With that the faceless one turned and walked back to the newcomer as the guards herded and carried BTS back to their prison.

Once back in the building they were quickly taken to their cell. Hoseok, Taehyung and the unconscious Jin were laid on beds as the other three were pushed into table chairs. After a moment the faceless one and newcomer came into the room.

“Jimin?” Namjoon asked, his rage burning away his fear.

“Mr. Park is the least of your concerns right now,” answered the faceless one. “I would be far more worried about your injured friends here.”

Walking over to the table the faceless one leaned down until he was eye level with Namjoon.

“But not to worry, Mr. Kim, one of our new friends here is a medic and he will give your brothers a quick once-over. I am sure they will be right as rain.”

Namjoon wanted to hurl his rage at the faceless one as he walked back to the newcomer who had not moved from the doorway. But he could only sit silently as the monster spoke again.

“After we leave and when the other Mr. Kim wakes up, all of you are to clean up and make yourselves presentable. When my friend here has finished his date with the delectable Mr. Park, we will return.”

Although he did not understand all of the words said, Jungkook understood enough to cry out his lovers name as the two in the doorway laughed.

Jimins fear grew as he was pulled away from his brothers and taken back into the concrete building; but he wasn’t returned to their cell. Instead he was taken in a different but no less confusing direction and pushed into what looked like a luxury bedroom. His breath now coming so fast he feared he might pass out as he looked around the room for some kind of escape, but there was none.

He was shocked when the guard ordered him in Hangul to go into the bathroom, take a shower and put on the clothes that would be laid out for him. The guard also told him that he would had have fifteen minutes to do this and if he disobeyed…

The threat was left unsaid but promised much, so Jimin was quick to follow those orders. He was terrified of what was coming but his only thought was to survive and get back to Jungkook.

Now fifteen minutes later Jimin stood in the middle of the luxury bedroom dressed in white satin pajamas praying for this nightmare to be over with. When the door opened he quickly moved backwards, stopping when the back of his knees encountered the bed. But he became confused when a table was rolled in covered with food by the newcomer, followed by a man carrying two chairs.

“Park Jimin-ssi, you look exquisite dress in white. Please have seat.”

The newcomer indicated the seat being held out for Jimin and not wanting to anger this person, Jimin sat down quickly. But he couldn’t stop from clutching his hands together in fear and looking everywhere except at the man seated across from him now.

“Please, Park Jimin-ssi,” the man purred. “Calm yourself. I promise that I will return you to your family unmolested. I only wish to share a meal with the most beautiful person in the world, and that is you. Share this meal with me, make pleasant conversation by telling me about yourself and your brothers, and I will consider myself satisfied.”

Part Thirty

Chapter Summary


Part Thirty

Jin sat on the edge of the bed doing his best to keep from throwing up because of the pain running through his head. He didn’t think he had ever had a headache this bad; his vision was fading in and out, and there was a loud ringing in his ear. The guard who had looked him over said he had a mild concussion and ordered Namjoon to keep an eye on him.

The new guard had just finished looking over Taehyung and had moved over to Hoseok when Jin took his first real look around the room. It was then that he realized one of their members was missing.

Grabbing Namjoons arm to get his attention, Jin whispered, “Where is Jimin?”

The devastated look on his leader’s face sent Jins heartbeat into overdrive.

“Joon-ah…,” he asked again. “Where is…is he…?” Jin’s voice cracked with tears.

Namjoon shook his head 'no' as tears streamed down his face.

“No, Hyung,” Namjoon said softly, “Jiminie isn’t dead. But…he might…wish he was…because of me.” Namjoon hung his head in defeat. “It was just a trap, hyung. A game to these monsters. The new expensive one had Jimin taken away for himself. This is my fault. I decided for us to run and now Jimin-ah will pay for my crime.”

Jin wrapped his arms around Namjoon as the other broke down completely, his own tears falling as well.

The guard finished with Hoseoks leg and in perfect Hangul reminded them that they were to clean themselves up and change clothes. They were also informed that a hot meal was being brought in for them.

A still crying Jungkook moved to help Taehyung get a shower while Namjoon helped his boyfriend.

Jin stood slowly holding himself still when a wave of dizziness washed over him, but he remained on his feet. When he was steady he moved to the table and sat next to Yoongi.

“What happened out there, Yoon-ah? The last thing I remember is yelling for you and the others to run, and then I wake up back here.”

The look that came over Yoongis face was cold and harsh.

“It was all a fucking game, Jin-ah. We were the mouse and they were the cat, so now while we clean up and eat a hot meal, Jimin is being forced to do God knows what to that new monster; all thanks to your and Namjoon’s refusal to accept that WE ARE NEVER GETTING OUT OF THIS HELL!”

Jin reared back in surprise as Yoongis whispered explanation ended in a yell. Instinctively he reached out to comfort his dongsaeng only to draw back his hand when the other snarled at him.

There were no more words spoken by any of Bangtan Sonyeondan as they all cleaned up, ate without tasting anything, and drifted into different parts of the room to wait.

Exactly fifteen minutes later the door opened to reveal the faceless leader, the expensive one…and their sweet Jimin.

Carefully eyeing the three, the others were confused by the small, nervous smile on Jimins face, and his current state of dress, white silk pajamas and expensive looking house shoes.

Pulling Jimin gently to the side by his arm, the expensive one looked at the boys as though he was appraising product for sale.

The faceless leader simply leaned back against the door, pulling a gun from his pocket, finger going to the trigger as he crossed his arms and stared the members down.

“Can anyone tell me what went wrong today?” he asked, his alien voice clearly condescending.

When no one answered the man barked a short laugh.

“You do of course realize that I will be forced to punish you now. Anyone want to take responsibility?”

The boys all looked at each other; heads bowed slightly, all of them shaking them ‘no’.

“Namjoon,” the man said, pushing off the door and placing the gun back where he had gotten it. “You are the leader, are you not?”

Namjoon just looked at the man in contempt.

Laughing the faceless leader removed the device from his neck before taking off his mask and throwing it to the side.

“Since you are the leader of your crew, and I am the leader of mine,” the man purred, “let us negotiate terms, man to man, face to face.”

Before any of them could process what was happening the man was standing before Namjoon, the barrel of his gun pressed to the boy’s forehead.

“Because of your little…stunt…your life is forfeit. As the leader it was your job to deter your members from any form of misbehavior. Obviously, you failed. My associate here has been kind enough to have Park Jimin sparred. As for the rest of your crew, you may pick one and convince me not to kill them. For the rest…”

Namjoons head shot up as his face adopted a look of horror. Jumping to his feet he looked around wildly turning this way and that as he looked at each one of his brothers.

“No!” he exclaimed. “Please no! It was me! ONLY me! I did it. I made them! They had nothing to do with…it wasn’t…”

Namjoon was in a panic as his brain melted down, his speech reverting to Hangul as he tried to figure a way out for everyone else. Jimin was safe for now but…he could not even begin to choose just one of his brothers to survive. They had been in this from the beginning. Had said so many times how their lives really started the day that they debuted. How could they be separated now?

“Twenty seconds, Mr. Kim,” the leader said, sounding as if he were growing impatient. “Ten…”

Pushing himself off the door the leader knocked on it twice, stepping away as five masked guards stepped in, each one grabbing a boy and pulling them out of the room.

Jimin stayed frozen on the newcomers arm and Namjoon was stopped by a gun to his head once more as he watched his family being led away.

“Make it quick,” the leader hissed as he kicked the door shut.

“Wha…” Namjoon felt his heart drop. “Where…where are you taking them?” he asked, not really wanting to know the answer.

“To die,” the leader said a mock sad expression on his face. “Since you were unable to choose, I shall spare you and punish them. Seems fair, don’t you think?”

Namjoon could only stare at the floor he was kneeling on as the gunshots echoed in his mind. His brothers and his lover were dead and he had brought it about. He couldn’t even raise his head when a shadow fell across him and a pair of legs entered his field of vision. It was only that awful human voice speaking to him that made him raise his eyes from the floor.

“Well, Mr. Kim, the problem is solved. Now you don’t have to make a choice on who will live because your indecision killed them all.” The man pointed the gun again at his head, filling Namjoon with relief that he would now join his brothers and love in death. But that relief was short lived as the man continued. “No, Mr. Kim. You will not die today. Perhaps I will give you a worse punishment. How about I set you free, send you back home to South Korea.” The man turned and walked back to the door. “You could go home, but then you would have to explain to their families, and your fans…the world…how you got them killed.” The man taunted those last words as he laughed and left the room.

Namjoon had, for a brief moment, forgotten that one of his brothers still lived. He looked up into the polite, disinterested smile of Park Jimin and felt his soul shatter.


The expression on Jimins face never changed.

The newcomer wrapped a tight arm around the smaller man, turning to the door and leaving Namjoon in the hell of his own making.

Sven, the expensive looking demon that he was, pulled Jimin out into the hallway, sweeping the young Korean man into his arms when his legs buckled and he started to fall to the ground.

“You did so well in there, Park Jimin-ssi. I promise nothing bad will happen now, to you, or to those you love. You do believe me, don’t you?” Sven hitched the smaller man higher in his arms as Jimin wrapped tight arms around his neck, nodding his head against Svens shoulder and dissolving in to tears.

Walking back in the direction of his private quarters, Sven couldn’t contain his smile at how easy it had been to break this fragile creature to his ownership. Feeling Jimin go limp in his embrace he looked down to see that the young man had given in to unconsciousness.

Once inside his room Sven gently laid Jimin on the bed, making sure to cover him with several blankets. He looked down on the sleeping figure congratulating himself on acquiring such a perfect jewel.

“Sleep well my jewel. When you wake, prepare to be groomed, pampered and polished so that your beauty shines again. But this time…it shines only for me,” he whispered as he brushed his fingers through the younger mans hair.

Sven had moved away from the bed so he neither saw the tear that fell from the corner of Jimins eye, nor heard the name he whispered from parted lips.

His brothers were dead. They had to be. He had heard the shots go off. And Jimin…

What had happened to him? Had he collapsed as well from desperation?

Namjoon didn’t know. All he knew was that his absolute worst fears were coming to light. He had failed to lead his members well and they had paid a price none of them had ever considered.

Letting out a carnal scream of rage Namjoon collapsed to the floor, giving in to the blissful depths of unconsciousness as his brain shut down to protect itself from the unimaginable grief he was experiencing.

In each of their separate rooms the boys were reduced to tears as their minds ran a million miles an hour trying to process everything that had happened, each moment a fight not to imagine the worst no matter what they thought or heard.

For him even death would have been a reward.

His spirit was shattered and every last piece of his resolve was breaking. Whatever hope he had had that morning had died with the echoing of gunfire.

But he was tired…and sore. Clammy. As he sat there he slowly drifted off to sleep, his mind going blank as his body shut down.

When Kim Namjoon woke, screaming his lovers name, it took him a moment to realize the room he was in was freezing cold. Looking around in fright the reality of that day came back to hit him like a handful of knives and it was everything he could do not to cry out in pain.

In the other five rooms the members slowly began to stir, Jungkook waking up shivering as he tucked his arms in his t-shirt and slowly looked around, his breath visible in front of him as he exhaled. Only the crackle of a speaker made him pause.

“Since you have seen fit to execute mutiny against your most humble hosts, and because I so graciously gave you a reprieve from death, as your punishment, I have no choice but to reduce the heat in this room for the next three days,” an alien voice said. “And let me assure you…this room gets quite cold, day and night. Enjoy…”

Jungkook let out a shout as he banged his head against the wall. He had never been good at maintaining body heat and in his current state he wore only a shirt and sweats that he had changed into after they cleaned up from their escape attempt. He was also only wearing the house slippers they had been afforded and he had slipped back on before the man confronted Namjoon.

In his mind he registered that the voice had said three days. Would he make it that long? Immediately jumping up Jungkook banged on the door screaming for help, but even then, no one came.

Sven sat in a throne-like chair watching his group pamper and groom his latest acquisition. His private dancer was perfect in every way, from his raven colored hair to his angelic face and dancers form; and now that he was being tended to properly Jimin outshined all the jewels in Svens collection.

The group finished and left quietly.

Sven sat there, watching Jimin sit perfectly still even after the group had finished with him. His eyes focused on the large wall mirror in front of him, but not truly seeing his reflection. Sven could tell from his expression that Jimin was looking inward not out at the world around him.

“Park Jimin-ssi…”

The young man jerked in surprise and turned to look as Sven.

Motioning for Jimin to stand and come to him, Sven approved of the clothes his stylist had chosen for the young Korean man today, very much the style Jimin wore in his idol days. An open collared slightly oversized white cashmere sweater that fell mid-thigh with a simple pair of black jeans. Sven had even made sure that his jewelry had been returned to him, which Jimin was now wearing again. But Sven had added an extra piece of jewelry, a black velvet choker with his personal insignia of a raven in flight. That was a piece of jewelry that the Russian knew Jimin would wear the rest of his life.

“Jimin-ah,” the older man whispered when Jimin stopped just short of his knees, his head lowered refusing to look into Svens eyes.

The young man simply reacted without thought or hesitation as he climbed into Svens lap straddling his knees and wrapping his arms around the mans neck. Jimin buried his face into the Russian mans shoulder, flinching slightly when arms crushed him a tight embrace.

Cradling the beautiful Jimin in his arms Sven remembered how simple…how easy…it had been to break this young man. All he had to do was tell the truth.

“Please, Park Jimin-ssi, calm yourself. I promise that I will return you to your family unmolested. I only wish to share a meal with the most beautiful person in the world, and that is you. Share this meal with me, make pleasant conversation by telling me about yourself and your brothers, and I will consider myself satisfied.”

Jimin remained silent but tears started to fall down his cheeks and the trembling in his body grew worse.

“Please don’t hurt me… I just want to be with my hyungs and go home,” Jimin said. “Please! We...we just...want to go home. We will give you all the money we have, just let us go….” The young man broke down into heart-wrenching sobs and covered his face with his hands as he rocked back and forth.

Smiling in triumph Sven stood from the table and moved to Jimins side. Bending down he swept Jimin into his arms and then sat down on the bed, cradling him like a child as the Korean man wept. Placing his lips next to Jimins ear he began humming an Old Russian lullaby as he swayed side to side. Within seconds Jimin pulled his arms from between them and encircled Svens neck as sobs continued to rock his frame. Sven knew in that moment that he had him, all Jimin needed was the right push and the dancer would be his.

After a few moments Jimins sobs quieted down and Sven knew this was the moment. Pulling back, he took Jimins chin and made sure the young man was looking into his eyes as he spoke.

“I am sorry, Park Jimin-ssi, but that will not happen. Not now. Not ever. You and your brothers belong to me now and I have paid a great deal of money for you. I am sure that it is more that the seven of you plus your company could come up with.”

Tightening the fingers on Jimins chin to just short of painful, Sven continued.

“I now own you and your brothers. That will not change. But how they will live out their lives will be entirely up to you, Park Jimin-ssi.”

Quick as a snake and before Jimin had time to react Svens fingers moved from his chin to tangle tightly in his hair, forcing him to arch his neck painfully.

“With one word I can have them servicing the lowest pieces of shit the world has ever seen in a backwater brothel on the other side of the world; or I can have them living in the lap of luxury being wined and dined by men and women with more money than could be spent in a hundred lifetimes. They will even be allowed to remain together as one family, if you wish. But that choice is yours to make, and you must make it before we leave this room, Park Jimin-ssi.”

Rising to his feet Sven stood Jimin in front of him.

“What must I do?” Jimin whispered as new tears filled his eyes.

Sven moved back to his chair and sat down, his eyes never leaving the beautiful dancer in white satin standing in front of him.

“You have to trust me. Believe me when I say that I will take you and your brothers out of this place, unharmed and alive. They will all receive the care they need, every luxury they could ever wish for and have long lives. You, however, will be my private dancer, answerable only to me, and every wish, dream, and fancy you could think of, I will give to you. The only thing I will not grant you or them is freedom. That dream must die, Jimin-ah.”

He sat back in the chair, and then delivered the final blow.

“You have to make this choice willingly and you must show your hyungjaes that you are happy in that choice. That you give yourself to me without regret, pain, or fear.”

He watched his words sink in and for a second Jimin wavered as a look of anger crossed his features, but Sven could see the exact moment when this fragile creatures soul broke to his will.

Like a child seeking comfort after being scolded Jimin crawled into Svens lap, hiding his face in the Russians chest as he begged.

“Please take me. I don’t want to be in this Hell anymore. Please take us out of here. Please…”

Twenty-four hours later here Sven was with his private dancer sitting in his lap again as Dorian played his stupid games. If it weren’t for the money he had paid for the other six, he and Jimin would have already been on their way to one of his many homes throughout the world.

The door to his quarters opened with no knock and the man himself, Dorian, walked in. He gave Sven a smirk at the sight of Jimin sitting in his lap.

No sign of rage crossed his features at the rude intrusion but he knew that Jimin had picked up on the subtle stiffening of his frame by the way he pulled away and worriedly looked from one man to the other. Giving his jewel a small grin, Sven stood and set Jimin on his feet.

He moved to the closet and pulled a full length sable coat out, then indicated that Jimin should turn so he could put it on the smaller man. Sven then called one of his people and in Russian told the man to escort Jimin on a walk outside.

Pulling the hood so it covered Jimins head, Sven tipped the Korean mans face up and kissed him lightly on the forehead.

“Jimin-ah, it looks like our host and I must have a chat. This man will take you on a short excursion outside for some fresh air. Everything will be fine; you do believe me, don’t you?”

Jimin nodded as he allowed the guard to guide him from the room.

When the door closed behind Jimin and the guard, Sven moved in the blink of an eye. He slammed Dorian against the wall and pinned him there with a hand to the mans throat.

“Remember when I gave you money for this little hideaway of yours that I was promised private quarters for my use at any time. That includes you knocking on the fucking door before entering, is that clear?”

Sven let go of the mans throat before he gave in to the impulse to snap his neck and end all this foolishness. He would be more than happy to take his jewel and other property and get out of this godforsaken state.

Coughing and rubbing his neck Dorian replied, “I simply wanted to tell you that the boys are enjoying some cold storage and will no doubt be much more pliable when we let them out in a couple of days.”

“I put up with your stupid little games, Dorian Foley, but if those games cost me any of my property, then you and I will be having some words.” The threat coming through clear in the Russians voice. “Now go the fuck away so I might join my jewel for a quiet walk.”

Dorian paused at the door.

“Just how did you get the luscious Jimin to drop so sweetly into your lap?”

Throwing on his own sable coat Sven answered, “I told him the truth.”

Part Thirty-One

Chapter Summary


Part Thirty-One

Three days after their new nightmare began the boys were pulled from their rooms and thrown back in to the prison they had come to know. Unable to process anything they all laid there for several long minutes before Jin was able to sit up and look around.

Yoongi was standing in a far corner, knuckles white from how tightly he clenched his fists.

Hobi was lying in a fetal position holding his leg and shaking.

Namjoon was looking from one person to the next as if he were seeing ghosts.

Taehyung was rocking back and forth, teeth chattering and lips blue.

Jungkook was almost lifeless, his eyes dull.

“Jimin-ah,” Jin breathed, scrambling up to bang against the door and scream for his brother.

“Where is Jiminie!?!” he wailed as he spun back around to look at Namjoon.

“Gone…” was all the younger man said.

Taking a deep breath and holding it for a moment Jin jumped when he heard the heat kick back on, a small amount of relief flooding his system. Going to the closets Jin pulled out every blanket he could find there, gathered all the blankets from Yoongis nest, and threw out every pair of sweat pants he could find, grabbing all the socks they had been afforded and the three long sleeves shirts he could find. Looking at the supplies he jerked Namjoon up and instructed their leader to help him pile mattresses in the floor, straightening the sheets out and laying a thin blanket down over his creation before going person to person, checking them out and helping them to his nest.

Namjoon picked Hoseok up and carried him gently over, laying him down and pulling him close, burying his face in the older mans neck, pulling a blanket over them and praying the room would warm up soon.

Jin carefully approached Yoongi, convincing him to lay down in the nest, telling him if they all shared what little body heat they had it would warm them up quicker. Yoongi only laid on the very edge.

Taehyung slowly crawled to the bed, arranging the blankets the best he could before making a nest for Jungkook.

Carrying his maknae to the bathroom area Jin undressed the boy before layering him in sweatpants and all the long-sleeved shirts, giving him three pairs of socks and laying him down next to Taehyung who curled up next to him and helped Jin cover them up.

Once those two were tucked in Jin handed out the remaining clothing and socks to the others, only keeping a pair of socks for himself. If nothing else, he would sacrifice himself to keep his maknae-deul warm.

When they woke the next morning, the room was slightly warmer, but none dared to move from the cocoon they had made, and when no one came with breakfast they forced themselves back to sleep in an effort to stay warm.

When lunch time came guards came in wearing thick jackets, forcing the boys out of bed to fix a cold meal. Jin and Namjoon got up, leaving the others to keep warm, Yoongi moving to hold Hoseok who was still sleeping.

Taehyung woke too, slowly looking around and realizing Jungkook was still asleep. Using his unwrapped arm Taehyung gently moved his brothers bangs from his face, frowning when he felt how hot he was.

“Jungkook-ah,” Taehyung whispered, not wanting to alarm the others. When the boy made no response, Taehyung shook him gently. “Jungkook-ah,” he tried again, this time a bit louder.

“Namjoon-hyung,” Taehyung called, a strain in his tone. “Hyung, something’s wrong with Jungkook…”

Stopping what he was doing Namjoon came to kneel by their maknae, his forehead drawing down when he felt the heat coming from the boy.

“He probably just has a cold,” Namjoon said, not entirely convinced he was right, but knowing there was nothing he could do. “Just let him sleep.”

Taehyung nodded, readjusted himself, and he too went back to sleep only waking up when he felt patterns being traced on his shoulder.

Slowly opening his eyes, Taehyung smiled at the beautiful boy before him.

“Good morning Jungkook-ah,” he said softly, causing the boy to smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Hyung,” he croaked.

“Are you okay Jungkook-ah?” Taehyung asked in concern.

“M cold,” Kookie said.

Taehyung frowned. Jungkook wasn’t cold. He was burning up. The room was even still bitterly cold. They had no idea how long it would take to warm back up or even if it would.

“Hyungie,” Jungkook said after several minutes. “Where is Jiminie?”

Taehyung looked at the boy sadly, his hand coming out to stroke his cheek.

“I don’t know,” he said, a frown gracing his features.

“Does he not love me anymore?” Kookie asked.

“Of course he loves you,” Taehyung said instantly. “Hyung loves you too.”

Jungkook smiled at that.

“Hyung has to love his maknae,” he teased.

“Brat,” Taehyung said with a laugh.

Later that night Jungkook woke and crawled at breakneck speed for the bathroom coughing until his throat was raw, a great deal of goo coming up and in to the toilet. Once he had caught his breath enough, Jungkook made to crawl back only to be stopped by Namjoon.

“Are you okay?” his leader asked in worry.

Jungkook gave Namjoon his best smile and nodded, but the man knew better.

“Jungkook-ah,” he said softly, bending down and picking the frail boy up. “Let hyung take care of you Kookie-ah.”

Hyung," Jungkook asked softly, looking up at Namjoon from his spot on the makeshift bed. "What is punishment?"

Namjoon stopped his trajectory back to his own spot and knelt back down as he considered his dongsaeng.

"Why do you ask?" he asked in confusion.

"Do I deserve to be punished?" the boy asked with tears in his eyes. "Should I be punished for...for being me?"

The rage that suddenly consumed Namjoon had his insides boiling and it threatened to destroy the calm face he was trying to present to his maknae. This question, coming from this sweet boy, told Namjoon more about what had happened while Jungkook had been taken from them than he thought he wanted to know.

“Who… Who told you such a thing?” Namjoon asked.

The youngest member had refused all attempts to speak about what had taken place except with Yoongi.

“That…the…” Kookie tried, having to stop and attempt a deep breath as he felt himself suffocating.

Desperately wanting to comfort the boy Namjoon reached out slowly and placed a cool hand on Jungkooks cheek, giving him a soft smile.

"No, Jungkook-ah. You do not deserve punishment for being you. You don’t deserve any kind of punishment at all. Whatever that evil man said to you…it is a lie."

Kookie smiled at his hyung, feeling more than comforted by his words.

“Saranghaeyo, Namjoon-ah,” he said, his bunny smile slowly peeking out.

Namjoon grinned.

“I love you too, brat,” he said softly. “Try to get some sleep, okay?”

With that Jungkook nodded and curled deeper in to the blankets, his eyes closing as he once again prayed for sleep to take him.

The next day Jungkook was a little worse and so when the new guard came in Jin decided to make a move and was somehow able to negotiate some extra blankets and a jacket or two which they promptly used to cover their maknae in an effort to make him more comfortable.

The entire day each of the members took turns dogpiling with Jungkook while the rest of them went about straightening up, trying to quickly wash up, and tending to the meals, Taehyung not leaving Jungkooks side.

This monster that he was standing next to now was their only way out of this hell. It was true that he was trading one prison for another, but he had been promised that their new cage would be lined in luxury. That they would be well cared for and would not suffer as they had before. It wasn’t freedom, but it was freedom from this Hell that they lived in now. If he must endure their hatred, then it was a price he was willing to pay.

“Park Jimin-ssi, you do believe me, don’t you?"

He looked into the face of this monster who now owned him and was asking him this question. Did he believe the man? His soul screamed at him to rage and fight, to hurl a loud ‘no’ back at him. But his mind flashed on his last sight of his brothers and lover when they had tried to escape, Jin hanging limp on some strangers shoulder; Hoseok lying on the ground in pain; Jungkook in the clutches of Carl; Taehyung and Yoongi kneeling on the cold hard earth; and their leader standing there broken.

Taking a deep breath Jimin pulled the sable tighter around his body, looked into the monsters face, and let himself fall back into that foggy state of mind where he could protect his heart and soul.

Jimin cocked his head and smiled.

“Of course, chagiyah.”

Smiling at his private dancer Sven nodded for the guard to open the door. They were met with a blast of cold air. The Russian was happy that he had not let Jimin remove his coat when they came in from their daily walk. Tucking the Korean mans hand in his elbow and thinking that he was going to have some words with Dorian, Sven enter BTS’ cell.

“Greetings Bangtan Sonyeondan, I am Sven……your new owner.”

Jimin gasped at the chill and the sight of his family piled in the middle of the room. After the man spoke, Jimin pulled his arm down to whisper, “It is so cold in here, chagiyah, can you do something to warm the room up?”

Sven quickly ordered the guard in Russian to bring heaters and get Dorian. He then tipped his private dancers face to his and lightly kissed his lips.

The boys watched in shock at the exchange, all of them so thankful in that moment that Kookie was passed out.

Yoongi stood from where he was to walk over to where his brother stood.

“Chagiyah?” he asked his voice low…dangerous. “Chagiyah?”

Yoongi looked at the Russian man in contempt.

“What have you done to him?” he practically spat.

Within the fog of his mind Jimin felt Yoongis contempt like a blow to his body, but he had a part to play. And play it he would, even as a piece of his soul died.

“Yoongi hyung!” Jimin scolded. “This is our angel. He is going to take us out of here and take care of us,” he said, wrapping both of his fur covered arms around Svens arm, laying his head against the man. Giving the other a cold look, Jimin forced himself to strike a blow which he knew would save their lives but could destroy everything he ever had with these six men. “I am with someone who will give me anything I want, so I don’t end up a couple of guards fuck toy.”

The others fully expected Yoongi to hit Jimin, braced for it knowing they would be unable to save him when he did. What they did not expect was for Yoongi to stand stock still as he did, no life to his voice when he spoke.

“Is that really all I am to you?” he asked not even enough emotion to sound broken. “Just…just a toy? Will you use me too?”

Jimin wanted to scream and his body began to tremble. The monster must have sensed something because he stepped in front of Jimin putting himself in Yoongis field of vision.

“I would suggest you keep a polite tone when speaking to my jewel or perhaps you would like to watch those men pay a visit to Taehyung-ssi or Seokjin-ssi or even Jungkook-ssi?”

Yoongi hung his head as he deflated.

“Sorry Jimin-ah,” he said softly. “I shouldn’t speak. It’s...”

Taehyung stood at that and walked to stand beside Yoongi.

“Jimin-ah,” he said softly, his tone sad. “Are you happy?” He tried to give his brother an encouraging smile but it did not reach his eyes.

Everything in Jimin screamed out for them, for his brothers, to see the truth. To know that it was all a lie, an act, to drag him away from this monster and protect him. When Taehyung asked such a simple question, a question no one living through the hell they had so far should need to ask, Jimin felt another piece of his soul die.

The rage that filled him came from a place he hadn’t thought existed. Was he worth so little that he could be easily overlooked by PD-min and now by those who were so willing to see him as a useless traitor to them?

Straightening his posture Jimin looked from face to face. his eyes lingering on the one who held his heart.

‘Good-bye, my love…’

Turning to Taehyung he gave him an empty cold smile.

“Of course, Kim Taehyung-ssi.”

Kim Taehyung knew Park Jimin better than most thought he did.

“Jimin-ah,” Taehyung said slowly, softly, as he considered the man. “Hyung…”

There were so many things he wanted to say. So much he desperately needed to voice.

Taehyung knew the boy was sick.

Knew that their leader had lied to him to try and keep him from worrying so.

“I think… Jungkookie…they let him get so cold, Jimin-ah…”

The moment that Kim Taehyung mention the possibility of Jungkook being sick Sven could see the ripple that moved through Jimin, the look on his face like that of someone waking from a dream. Moving quickly he grabbed Jimins arm and ordered the guard in Russian to take the Korean man back to his private suite and keep him there. Sven could see the resistance in Jimins form as the guard pulled him from the room. He realized that it had been a mistake to let his jewel see the other six so soon and they him. Better to keep them apart for right now.

Two of his guards entered carrying large portable heaters and following behind them was Dorian and his brother, Carl.

“I am not happy with you Dorian.” Sven snapped, his mind still on Jimin. There was obviously still some work he needed to do with his jewel to make sure his control was total.

“What, they are still alive and in one piece, aren’t they?” Dorian snarled back, angry at being summoned like he was some lackey and not the one running the show.

“Barely, Dorian. It feels like a meat locker in here and one of them caught a head cold.” Sven waved a hand in Jungkooks direction. “They all look like death warmed over. I couldn’t sell them on a street corner looking the way they do, much less expect one of my clients to pay a small fortune for their company.”

Walking among the stunned members of BTS and stepping over Kookies sleeping body, Sven grabbed Jins chin and pointed to his beaten face.

“What if Carl using this one as a punching bag leaves his face scarred, he won’t be worth anything then!”

Suddenly there was a low growl from the doorway and a voice said, “WHY THE FUCK WAS CARL PUTTING HIS HANDS ON JIN?”

Mathan had raced back to the compound as quickly as he could, depositing Rider at the cabin and bringing Pyro with him to introduce to his father. Now, his worst fears were confirmed. Looking at Jin he wanted to kill someone and Carl seemed like the perfect choice.

“And where is Jimin?” Mathan asked, stepping into the room and looking around, freezing when he saw the Russian man.

“Please tell me you’re not that stupid,” he deadpanned, looking at his father. “I know Carl is but…”

“Tell me he isn’t that stupid,” he said, addressing Sven. “You morons can’t possibly believe you will get away with this...”

“Ah, the prodigal son returns.” Sven released his hold on Jins face and moved back to the front of the room. “You need not worry about the beautiful Park Jimin, I will take great care of my private dancer. As for the rest of this lot, I am very much thinking of asking your father for my money back.”

Pausing at the door Sven clapped a hand on Mathans shoulder, “I leave you to your family reunion. I have a dance lesson to teach.” He called his guards, laughing as he left.

Mathan looked around the room one last time, his eyes burning before he looked at his father. His cover was well and blown by now and judging by the looks on these mens faces he was back to square one.

“I need to see you in your office,” Mathan growled, looking at his father, not waiting for him to reply as he left.

Once the room had cleared the boys tried to settle back down, the heaters making it a bit more tolerable.

Judging from the way he was breathing however, Taehyung wasn’t positive he was okay at all, and it worried him more than he liked.

At some point in the very early morning Jungkook once again woke, his eyes slowly opening as he looked at his hyung.

“Why so serious?” he whispered as he smiled at Taehyung.

“How are you Jungkookie?” Taehyung said with a small smile.

Kookie just shrugged.

“The guards brought us heaters,” Taehyung said. “Would you like me to put one in the bathroom so you can take a shower?”

Jungkook thought for a moment before pushing himself up and looking around, his brow furrowed.

“Where…” he began.

“He’s safe,” Taehyung said as his heart gave a painful tug.

“He left us, didn’t he?” Jungkook asked.

Taehyung just looked at him.

“I wasn’t sleeping,” Jungkook said sadly.

He had heard every word.

“He’s doing it for us,” Taehyung said, not sure how much he believed himself.

“Will you help me?” Jungkook asked, looking at his hyung.

Standing slowly Taehyung grabbed one of the heaters and pulled it to the bathroom before going to the closet and pulling out some clothes, finding an extra bottle of shampoo and a towel and placing that in the bathroom before helping his younger brother.

“M sorry,” Kookie said as he collapsed onto the toilet, already out of breath.

“Don’t,” Taehyung said as he helped Kookie pull his clothes off, turning on the water to an acceptable temperature and helping Kookie in.

Standing under the shower the maknae relaxed immediately, the warm water soothing his body and the tightness in his chest. It was almost like he could breathe again.

“You okay in there Jungkook-ah?” Taehyung asked softly, prompting the younger boy to hurry up and wash off.

Once he was clean Taehyung helped him get dressed and helped him back to bed before pulling the heater back in the main room and laying back down where he had been.

“Taehyung-ah,” Kookie said, putting his hands under his head as a pillow and looking at the man, his eye bright. “Why are you so good to me?”

Taehyung smiled fondly.

“Hyung has to take care of his maknae,” he said, the smile not quiet reaching his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Kookie said sadly.

“Hyung doesn’t mind,” Taehyung insisted.


Jungkook didn’t know what to say. So many thoughts had passed through his head and somehow the moment seemed right to confess all the feelings he was experiencing, and yet the moment wasn’t right at all.

“What’s wrong?” Taehyung asked in concern, but Jungkook shook his head.

The younger boy did not want to worry his brother.

“Let Kookie take care of you, hyung,” the younger boy said softly, slowly reaching out and stroking Taehyungs cheek. “Get some sleep. I’ll be right here.”

Taehyung tried to protest, but Jungkook slowly started humming, and before the boy knew it, he was drifting off to sleep and dreaming of better times.


If it’s not too late

Can’t we get back together?


If you’re struggling like I am

Can’t we make things a little easier?

I should’ve treated you better when I had you

How about you?

Are you really fine?

Guess our break up is setting

I should forget you but it’s not easy

Mathan sat in the control room watching everything, his blood boiling hot in his veins as he thought back to the conversation he had had with his father about the whole fiasco and how only Pyros quick thinking had gotten both of their asses out of hot water. Deciding he could no longer sit and watch Mathan got up and left the control room, walking down the hall and bumping right in to his uncle.

“You son of a bitch,” he growled, his anger finding a perfect target.

Mathan didn’t even give Carl a chance to respond as he hit him full force in the face, breaking his nose.

“I’ll fucking kill you,” he screamed, grabbing Carl and pulling him back to him, punching him in the gut one time, and then another.

By the time someone had pulled him off Carl, the unconscious man had blood pouring from every visible orifice of his body, and the guards dragging him away looked genuinely concerned. Looking around, Mathan saw one of Svens men being tended to as well, and he did not bother to contain the curse that escaped his lips.

“What the hell is going on here?” Sven roared at the sight of one of his elite guard lying on the ground.

Coming up the hallway pulling Jimin behind him, the last thing Sven wanted or needed to see was Mathan killing his idiot uncle or taking out one of his guards. He was upset at Jimins brief resistance and the fact that he had to disciple him. Sven was furious that he had to mar Jimins perfection but he had reacted in anger by slapping the young man when he had demanded to see Jungkook.

Now he was going to have to deal with this.

“Dorian, this insult cannot be allowed to stand. I am here as your guest, in good faith, doing a business deal and I find that your son has attacked one of my men.”

Sven smiled coldly at Mathan.

“So Mathan, how do you intend to answer for this insult?”

Jimin could only stand frozen as he watched the scene in front of him. He was happy to see his beloveds attacker lying bloody on the ground, but from Svens’ tone it sounded like they were angry at Mathan.

“Mathan-ah…” He whispered, flinching when Sven glanced at him.

Mathan snarled at Sven, spitting at the mans feet which earned him a backhand from the smaller man, eliciting a laugh from Mathan.

“You should have let me beat that fucker to death and be done with it,” Mathan said. “If he can’t play with the boys maybe you should send him back to the gutter you got him from. Or are you still trying to get your moneys worth out of him, pretty boy?”

Mathan had not missed Jimins plea. He had not misinterpreted the tone. And he was trying like hell to deflect Svens anger.

Sven let go of Jimins hand and wrapped a hand around the back of his neck. Turning to the guard behind him he gave a whispered command in Russian and waited. Within minutes several of his largest guards returned, all of them carrying lengths of metal pipes.

“How much pain do you think he will be able to withstand, Park Jimin-ssi? I think we will begin with five strikes from each guard and for every time you cry out, I will add five strikes.”

Sven gave a tight squeeze to Jimins neck and ordered his men to begin.

Mathan looked at Jimin, his eyes begging the boy to have some faith.

“If he is as weak stomached as you…” Mathan began with a snort just before the first strike fell, Mathan catching it with his hand and twisting the pipe, “we might be here all day. Why don’t we end this charade until you can find some real men to be your bullies?

Mathan let out a laugh when the next swing landed his ribs, trying for Jimins sake to make it seem like a game to him.

“How will your pretty little whore be of any service to you later if he is too traumatized to look you in the face, lover boy?” Mathan asked right before a pipe connected with his temple, knocking him backwards and causing him to shake his head to try and rid his ears of the ringing.

Jimin fought to hold his cries as each blow landed but when the pipe connected to Mathan’s head he could not control his actions. Pulling himself free from Svens hold Jimin threw his body in front of the descending pipe.

From in front of and behind the young Korean man came duel roars of rage. When Jimin opened his eyes it was to see that Mathan had blocked the pipe from striking him. Instead the pipe had struck across the back of Jins dark angel.

Before Jimin could say or do anything he was yanked away by Sven who in his rage threw the smaller Korean man over his shoulder, yelling at his guards to beat Mathan until he could not stand on his own feet.

Before the pipes started to fall as one, Mathan watched Jimin scream his name in terror as he was carried away by Sven.

Mathan did not know how long he lay in the concrete room he had been drug to but he was abruptly brought back to consciousness when a bucket of ice cold water was thrown over him.

“Fucker,” he breathed as he looked up at his father, earning a swift kick to the ribs.

Pushing himself up and refusing to show weakness Mathan stumbled to his room, slowly undressing and cursing every god he knew before climbing in the shower and washing off, putting on clean clothes and stumbling down the hallway to the control room.

In the prison, Taehyung woke up to Jungkook convulsing violently, causing him to jump up in a panic, yelling for those around him to wake. It didn’t take long for everyone to spring in to action, Jin and Hoseok holding the man down as Yoongi and Namjoon started screaming for help, throwing themselves against the doors and hitting the cameras.

When Jungkooks breathing began to slow down and stutter everyone went that much harder.

Hearing the god awful noise and preparing to give them an earful Mathan burst into the room, ignoring his injuries and looked around before noticing Jungkook, immediately springing in to action as he jerked the boy up like a rag doll and crossed the room to the bathroom, curses flying as he turned on the cold water and plunged them both in to it, fully dressed, blankets being pulled away from Jungkook as Mathan took care to keep the boys face out of the water, holding him tight as the convulsions slowed, and rubbing his sternum hard to get him to open his eyes and draw in a deep, ragged breath.

“Come on, Jungkook-ah,” Mathan breathed, shivering against the cold of the shower. “Come back to me. I don’t have time to dig you a grave.”

Jungkook spluttered and fought for a moment before Mathan adjusted his hold on the boy, pulling the boy to him like a small child, rocking him back and forth and whispering comforting words in his ear, not caring that the other boys were staring at him, and not concerned about what they thought of his haggard appearance. He knew he had a gash in his eyebrow, and a bruise on his face and a knot in the back of his head but…it had been a small price to pay for avenging his sweet angel. Only now he suspected that angel wanted him dead with the rest of the monsters in this hell.

“Get him…some clothes,” Mathan forced out, preventing his teeth from chattering. “And a towel…”

Looking at the guys and seeing them immobile Mathan screamed out for them to do it now.

Jin was the first to jump into action at Mathans yell.

“Namjoon-ah, grab some clothes for Jungkook. The rest of you clean up any messes you made before any more guards show up.”

He grabbed up as many towels as he could get, laying most of them on Kookie, but he did take two, one to lie around Mathan’s shoulders and the other he used to wipe the water and blood from the mans face. When he realized what he was doing he pulled away abruptly and moved to dry Jungkooks hair.

Jin could not stop himself from asking the question that had plagued him for the past two weeks.

“Why...did...you…leave mm…us?”

Part Thirty-Two

Chapter Summary


Part Thirty-Two

Mathan had heard the slip in Jin's question and it tugged at his heart.

“Help me get him out of here and in dry clothes and I promise I will answer that Seokjin-ah,” Mathan said quietly, his eyes sad.

He wanted to tell his angel everything…he would…but he had to take care of the boy in his arms first.

Standing with Jungkook Mathan helped Jin get him out of wet clothes, holding him while Jin dried him off and dressed him in the dry ones, putting a jacket back on him before following Mathan out to where the man laid him down, holding one hand over the boys chest and the other against the pulse point of his neck, his eyes closed in concentration.

“How did he get this sick?” Mathan asked, leaning down and putting an ear to Jungkooks chest, listening to his lungs and frowning.

Whatever this was was deep in the maknaes chest and Mathan was more than concerned that it could turn fatal.

Mathan expected Jin to answer but it was Namjoon who spoke.

“Your father decided it would be fun to let the stupid Korean boys think that they could escape. And when they failed, they were all stuck in freezing cold rooms while the leader thought they were dead. Plus one who followed his stupid leader is now in the hands of your father's friend who seems to think he owns us now.”

The others listened wide-eyed from the pile of blankets as Namjoon continued.

“Or maybe it was Carl who came and took Kookie away for over two hours and he still won’t tell us what happened. Jimin-ah tried to stop it and they took him away for three days, maybe that is why he turned to that monster. I couldn’t stop any of this, I couldn’t protect my brothers…I failed them.”

Namjoon fell to his knees, anguished cries ripping themselves from his throat as Hoseok and Taehyung threw their arms around him.

Mathan looked around the room in horror as he tried to process what he had just heard.

“You…he…YOU DID WHAT?” he roared, standing up from Jungkook and looking around once more.

Mathan had thought that addressing the issues one at a time would work, but he was quickly losing his temper, especially when he realized he could have prevented this all…

Had none of them really trusted him then? Had they just played him for his help? Had he really been that stupid?

“WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT? WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING?” he screamed, his mind racing.

For a brief second Jin was frozen by Mathan yelling, then came the anger.

“WHERE…THE…FUCK…WAS…MATHAN-AH!!!!” Jin screamed into Mathans face as he beat his fists against the larger mans chest. “We need…you…help…no...here…no…know…where.”

Each word followed by a fist striking the man.

Even Yoongi, the most savage member of BTS, watched in stunned surprise as their eldest cut loose in a way none of them had ever seen, and then he fell to the floor laughing hysterically.

Mathan stood there for a brief second in surprise before taking Jins wrists in his large hands and spinning him, pulling Jin back to chest and crossing his arms in front of him.

“Mathan-ah went to get help for your stupid asses,” he growled low in the man’s ear.

He wanted to tell them how idiotic they had been for thinking they could escape but…he knew someone who had done it once before.

Forgetting all of the other questions in his mind, Mathan spun Jin back around to face him, not yet letting him go.

“I should have told you, Seokjin-ah,” he said, concentrating only on the man. “I should have told you everything but…I was afraid…” Mathan hung his head as he laughed at himself and let the other go. “You still have no idea how cruel these monsters can be. If you love something…let it go…or they will turn it in to something perverse and use it as a weapon against you. I learned that the hard way…”

Mathan walked over to where Namjoon was and dropped to his knees.

“Sven does...own you now,” he said to the man, his tone sad. “He bought you from…” Mathan hung his head, knowing this would be his warrant. “He bought you from…my father. For…more money than you could imagine. And…when things calm down…he intends to move you to…one of his…” Mathan shook his head as he felt himself getting sick. “He will make all of you someones private play thing. Just like he is making Jimin his. But don’t you dare…for one minute…think that that poor boy has abandoned you. Because he is sacrificing the most right now. He’s given himself away to keep the rest of you alive…cared for… He is doing the exact thing that you failed at, Kim Namjoon, in the only way he sees to do it. Because none of you trusted me and…I did not trust myself in return…”

Again it was Yoongi who surprised them. He had stopped laughing when Mathan began to speak and his thoughts turned to Jimin. He thought back to the last time he had seen his brother; those awful words rang in his ears; but it was the look in his eyes that Yoongi remembered now. Jimins eyes always smiled so brightly, even here in this hell those eyes had kept some of their sparkle as he did everything to keep their spirits up. But that night there had been nothing in them; no life, no smile, and no sparkle. Only dead, empty eyes.

Getting to his feet Yoongi walked up to Mathan and held out his hand.

“You don’t get to choose who your blood is, but you can choose who your family is, Mathan-ah. We made mistakes and you made mistakes, but families forgive. Now how do we get the fuck out of here?”

Mathan looked up at the man in surprise, slowly extending his hand and accepting the help up.

“I can’t move Jungkook like he is,” Mathan said, shaking his head. “He’s…”

‘Dying,’ was an appropriate word.

“Your brother is very sick. I’d wager bronchitis but…pneumonia isn’t out. And…his fever…”

Mathan scrubbed his face.

“I don’t have any medicine left. No one is allowed to leave the compound except for Carl and…he isn’t really going anywhere right now so…”

Mathan looked back at the boy.

“Right now our priority is getting him better and…getting you all in shape to run. I have ops posted in a hunting cabin in the woods. I have a munitions specialist I snuck in to the guards and…the only person I know who has escaped this hell will be here in twenty-something days unless I call them sooner and then it’s closer to twenty-four hours. In the meantime, don’t piss anybody off. I don’t know how much more rope I have before I hang myself and Dorian and Sven are about to butt heads, which…will have you seven in the crosshairs. Please just trust me when I tell you I am doing everything that I can to deliver you safely back home or…as close to your home as I can get you before I get caught…”

The members of BTS awake and still in the room looked at each other in silent communication, then Namjoon nodded at Mathan.

Taehyung patted Mathans arm to get his attention and asked in broken English, “Jimin-ah…you…help?”

Mathan opened his mouth and abruptly snapped it shut.

“Sven…” He didn’t really know how to deal with the man. “No one gets left behind,” he said instead. “But you all have to listen to me. If I tell you to run like hell you run like hell and if I tell you to freeze, you freeze. And… promise me none of my crew goes down for helping get you out. I had to go a hell of a long way to find these people and…they all mean a great deal to me…”

Looking around the room, his eyes went back to Jungkook.

"No one leave him alone tonight. I’ll…see if I can make some phone calls and…I’ll bring him something in the morning. We have to burn that fever out of him at the very least. It’s hot enough to damage his organs…like his brain. I just…can’t make a lot of promises right now. I pissed some people off when I came back…”

Mathan hated leaving but he wanted to check on Jimin, not just for the guys but himself as well. He kept seeing the look of terror on Jimins face as Sven carried him away, hearing the plea in the desperate scream the young man had let out as the pipes fell.

Looking at BTS, Mathans eyes lingered on Jins battered face and he regretted that he hadn’t been able to kill that piece of shit, Carl. And now hearing what he had done to Jungkook, and to Jimin, Mathan wanted him dead more than ever. Giving himself a shake to throw off deadly thoughts that wouldn’t do the guys any good right now, he headed to the steel door.

“Get some rest, I am going to check on Jimin and I will be back in the morning.”

Jimin knew this might very well be the time of his death.

Sven never broke stride as he effortlessly carried Jimin back to his private quarters. Twice now his private dancer had defied him, and he was unwilling to allow it to happen a third time.

Barking orders to his guards to make sure that no one bothered him Sven stalked to the bed and tossed Jimin on it. The Korean man bounced once then curled his arms around his legs seeking to make himself into as small a ball as possible. But the Russian was having none of that. Climbing up onto the bed he moved until his body hovered over Jimins shaking form.

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry…I’m sorry…I’m sorry,” Jimin just kept repeating over and over again, but Sven wasn’t sure who he was apologizing to. Mathan? Sven? The young man he loved? Or maybe to himself?

Leaning down he growled at Jimin.

“You do believe me, don’t you, Jimin-ah?”

Jimin stiffened at those words but turned his head to look at the face hovering over his own. Loosening the death grip he had on his knees, Jimin let his body relax into the bed.

“Please…” he whispered. “I am so tired. Please just kill me.”

“Kill you, my jewel?” Sven asked in surprise, making sure his voice sounded hurt and appalled. “Destroy my beautiful private dancer? No, my love. That is the one thing I will never do. I may hurt you in my stupid anger,” Sven said, lightly caressing the cheek he had slapped earlier. “But what I want most is to love you. To wrap you in silks and furs that feel coarse next to the softness of your skin.” His hand moved whisper light down Jimins throat. “I want to show you the most beautiful and secret places in the world, places for our eyes only.”

Sven felt the other begin to tremble as his lips replaced his fingers on Jimins skin.

In his many years Sven had learned the art of seduction from masters and mistresses of the game. He knew that fear would totally destroy Jimins mind, but kindness and pleasure would break him into a thousand pieces. All Sven had to do was pick up the pieces and make his private dancer perfect.

Pulling Jimin up by the neck Sven sealed his lips to the other, licking and biting until the young man was overwhelmed.

Jimin wanted to fight, in his mind he screamed at his body to move, to struggle, to do anything. The only one who had ever touched him like that had been Jungkook. Closing his eyes and biting his lip until it bled Jimin prayed to every God out there that this nightmare would end and he would just die. Tears streamed down his cheeks as the monster kissed down his neck, his hands moving to undo the buttons of Jimins shirt.

“Please,” he begged, his voice trembling with fear. “Please let me go…”

Sven just laughed against the boys skin as his hands slipped inside the silk material.

“Relax my sweet,” Sven breathed, his breath tickling Jimins neck, eliciting a response that made the young Korean man want to hurl.

Sven continued kissing a trail down Jimins chest, nipping and licking as he went, untucking the shirt from Jimins pants as his fingers traced the boys waistband causing him to stiffen.

“S…st….stop…” Jimin stuttered.

“Don’t you trust me, Jimin-ah?” Sven cooed, looking up at his jewel, his pupils wide with desire.

Jimin choked back a sob as he nodded; wondering if this was anything like how his Yoongi-hyung had felt. Helpless and dirty.

“Jimin-ah,” Sven scolded. “Tell me that you trust me…”

Jimin took a deep breath as he tried to calm down.

“I…I tru…trust you…cha…chag…iyah,” he hiccupped.

“Good boy,” Sven cooed, his hands deftly removing Jimins shirt to admire his prize, looking at him like a predator would its prey. “So…beautiful,” he purred.

Jimin couldn’t even look at the man. He would take whatever punishment there was, but right now his skin was crawling and his stomach was churning. One look into this devils eyes and he knew that he would lose it.

“Lay down, Jimin-ah,” the man commanded, guiding Jimins body to rest against the headboard, his hands raking down Jimins sides, coming to rest on the button of his pants, pausing momentarily before quickly undoing the button and unzipping the zipper.

Jimin closed his eyes even tighter and fisted the sheets in fear, tasting the blood he had bitten from his cheek. He wanted to scream, to beg for help, to kick this monster in the face…call for Mathan-ah to rescue him but…he knew that his beloved family would pay with their lives for his weakness.

Park Jimin would never be weak.

“Do you love me, Jimin-ah?” Sven purred as his hand slipped inside the younger mans pants, his fingers barely brushing against Jimins member.

Jimin wanted to shake his head ‘no’, but somehow he managed nodding it ‘yes’.

“Say it!” Sven growled, taking Jimins flaccid cock in his hand and squeezing, making Jimin jerk.

“S..s…sarang…hae…” he choked out.

“Such a pretty mouth,” Sven purred as he began to stroke Jimins cock, pulling it free of his tight pants and admiring it. “Such a pretty dick…”

“Please…” Jimin begged.

Sven smirked at that, knowing that Jimin was begging to be let go.

“Let yourself enjoy it, my jewel. This is completely…natural…”

Jimin shook his head back and forth as Sven continued stroking his slowly responding member. In his mind he was screaming out. Desperately trying to get his body to not respond to the mans ministrations, but nothing he thought of was working.

“Do you like it when I touch you like this?” Sven asked.

Jimin could only nod as more tears fell, a slow pressure building in his abdomen. He knew he was going to be sick.

Sven chuckled and leaned in to kiss the boy softly, kissing the tears from his cheeks before kissing down his neck once more, teeth scraping against an earlobe.

As the ministrations continued and the pressure built Jimin retreated to the hazy protection of his mind, but even that only lasted for a moment. Before he even knew what was happening his head was falling back against the headboard as his release hit him like a ton of bricks, thick strands of cum pouring from his erection, coating the hand that rested there and spilling onto Jimins stomach.

Once the man had released his hold on Jimin the boy sat up, losing the contents of his stomach over the edge of the bed before dissolving into tears.

Sven calmly walked to the bathroom, returning with a damp washcloth for Jimin and a glass of water. He then sat at the end of the bed facing away from the shattered young man.

“I was twelve the first time that was done to me. He was a friend of my father, must have been at least fifty if a day. I threw up and cried just like you did, Jimin-ah. I learned after the fifth, or maybe the sixth time, to simply close my eyes and pretend I was somewhere else.” Hunching over Sven wrapped arms around himself as tears fell from his eyes. “Oh God…forgive me, my jewel. I only wanted to love you…protect you. To take you and your brothers out of here…”

Sven held himself perfectly still as he heard whisper soft movement from behind him. The face that Jimin couldn’t see lit up in evil triumph as arms curved around his shaking shoulders and a soft voice spoke against his back.

“I forgive you, chagiyah. I am sorry that I made you angry and I promise to be more respectful from now on.”

Letting more false tears fall Sven twisted and pulled Jimin into his arms burying his head in the Korean mans shoulder as he spoke.

“I promise you, my jewel, that I will never touch you like that again unless it is your wish. I will take you and your brothers from this place; you will all live out your lives in great wealth and luxury. You do believe me, don’t you, Jimin-ah?”

Jimin let Sven tip his face up and accepted the mans kiss as he whispered, “Yes, chagiyah, I believe you.”

Now several hours later Sven sat watching his beautiful private dancer sleep, a thin cigar dangling from his fingertips. The young Korean man had remained so nervous around Sven, flinching anytime the Russian moved, that he had been forced to call in one of his people to give Jimin a sedative. He needed to get them out of here and to one of his homes, preferably his lakeside estate deep in the wilderness of Russia.

The other six would be sent to one of his training houses where their education would begin once they had completely healed from Dorian and Carl’s stupidity. Looking at past pictures of Bangtan Sonyeondan he quickly came to the conclusion that while these six would no doubt make a lot of money for him, he would have to be very selective in their clientele so as to not reveal that the group the world thought was dead, was in fact alive and now acting as private escorts for some of the wealthiest people on the planet.

Svens thoughts were interrupted by a hard knock on the door. Glancing over to make sure that Jimin still slept he got up to answer. Leaning against the doorframe with two of his guards lying unconscious at his feet was Mathan.

“Next time you order your goons to beat me until I can’t stand…get bigger goons and better pipes.” Mathan smirked at the Russian. “I want to see Park Jimin.”

Putting the cigar in his mouth and stepping out into the hallway, forcing the larger man to step back, Sven closed the door to his private quarters. He looked from the guards on the floor back to Mathan.

“You know, you really should come work for me. I would be more than willing to pay you handsomely and as a bonus I would let you have Kim Seokjin for the night, anytime you wanted him.” Sven took a long draw on the cigar and took pleasure at blowing the smoke into Mathans face.

The effort it took Mathan to keep from crushing the Russians head between his hands was herculean, but he kept reminding himself that seven lives were depending on him keeping his cool. As much as he wanted to kill this perverted asshole and get BTS home, physically none of the guys were ready to make a run for it. He needed time to get them to some healthy point where running wouldn’t get them all killed.

“Look, I don’t give a shit what you are doing to the pretty boy but those six back there are whining up a storm wanting to know about their brother. So let me give him a quick check and I can get them to shut the fuck up.” Mathan crossed his arms over his chest. “As to the job offer I might give it some thought but I sure as hell would want that sweet piece of ass for a little longer than just a night.”

Pushing the door open Sven gestured for Mathan to step into the room but stopped him from coming all the way in.

“As you can see my beautiful Jimin-ah is sleeping peacefully.”

Mathan had serious doubts about that. Even from where he was standing he could see the tear tracks on Jimins skin as well as what looked like hickeys marring the flesh of his throat. Mathans fingernails cut into the palms he had fisted behind his back but no emotion crossed his face. At some point and time Sven was going to die and his death would be fucking painful.

Giving the Russian a curt nod Mathan turned and left.

Part Thirty-Three

Chapter Summary


Part Thirty-Three

Not caring how late it was Mathan made his way to his fathers quarters.

As expected Dorian was not sleeping, but what surprised Mathan was finding the man watching concert footage of Bangtan Sonyeondan. His eyes never left the screen as he spoke.

“They really are quite talented, aren’t they? That large stadium and all those fans held enthralled. I have no doubt that their company would pay anything we asked for them. Of course, this is after we reveal that the boys have risen from the dead.”

Mathan halted in stunned disbelief.

“Wait, you sold them to Sven. You mean to tell me that you are still planning on their resurrection and ransom?” He couldn’t stop the incredulous laughter. “Do you really think that you can double-cross Sven and not come out bloody? He will gut you and make you pull out your own fucking intestines.”

“My dear son, leave Sven to me. Like everyone, he has a weakness and I happen to know what that is. We will collect two paydays for one set of boys and have more money than we know what to do with when this is over.” Dorian said as he paused the DVD and turned to look at Mathan.

Mathan had a hard time wrapping his mind around the idiocy of this so-called idea of his fathers. A man like Sven was not someone you double-crossed, ever. He personally had seen the aftermath of those who thought that they were smart enough to do it and get away with it. There are some things that when seen can never be unseen, and he had witnessed the results of Svens anger. But for now, he would leave Dorian to his delusions. Mathan had his own plans and he needed to put them into action.

“Fine, whatever…I will leave Sven to you. But right now, we have a bigger problem.” Mathan growled. “Those boys are dying. They are not going to live long enough for you to collect any money for them at this rate. They aren’t eating properly, they aren’t getting any kind of exercise or stimulation; and thanks to your cold room stunt one of them is sick, and I mean deathly sick.”

Dorian didn’t say anything for a few minutes as he contemplated his response.

“As for food, Sven is taking care of that now. He wants to make sure that his little dancer is eating well. He also informed me that his staff would be taking care of BTS’ meals from now on, I guess he wants to fatten them up.” He gave a snort of laughter. “As to their exercise and so on, what are you suggesting?”

“They need fresh air and to be out of that room for a while. I want to take them outside and get them moving around. Also, let’s put them in one of the unoccupied rooms with a small sound system, tell them that they must start dancing again, at least the ones who are physically able to. And I need meds...antibiotics...vitamins; otherwise you can kiss your payday good-bye. Because the way they are right now, I give them less than a month before they start dropping like flies.”

Mathan crossed his arms over his chest while he waited for his fathers response. Luckily it wasn’t long in coming.

“Your idea has merit. After all, we can’t have the boys dying on us right now, can we? But they cannot all go outside at once. It would be far too tempting for them to do something foolish. They can go outside one or two at a time, but never more than that.” Looking at Mathan, Dorian gave him a smirk. “And my dear son, I will put you in charge of this. Make it all happen, give me a list of the medical supplies you need, and I will have Smith or Davis go into town in the morning and pick them up.”

Mathan had one final demand to make when it came to BTS. It broke his heart that he couldn’t say or do anything for Jimin in this moment; he had to focus on the other six to work on getting all seven of them out of here.

“I need Carl and the others to stay away from the boys. No more games, no more taunts, no more interaction of any kind. They just need to be silent backup.”

“Whatever you say, my dear son.”

Jin sat in the dark watching the labored rise and fall of Jungkooks chest. He prayed that Mathan would able to do something for their maknae.

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