I wake up hours later somewhat disoriented. Low rays of a setting sun filter through the windows, suspending floating dust in its orange hues. I don’t know how long I was unconscious, but the house seems empty, and I figure they’re still out looking for, or hopefully safely bringing home, Taehyung. My stomach knots in worry and anxiety, but there’s nothing I can do in the state I’m in. Even sitting up is an ordeal, and sweat beads on my forehead as I try to grit my teeth through the pain in my back. I notice that Jin left a glass of water and a bottle of painkillers on the end table next to the couch, and I quickly swallow some down to control the pain.  

Jin appears from around the corner, and noticing that I’m awake, rushes over to see how I’m doing.

“How do you feel?” He asks with concern.

“Like death.” I grimace, another shockwave of pain rushing through my body when Jin places a pillow behind me to help me sit up.

“What...what happened? Everything happened so fast, Jungkook came in with you unconscious on his back bleeding out, Taehyung was missing, everyone grabbed guns and ran out, and it’s been nearly a day with no word. I know it’s a long trip but it’s killing me to not know what’s going on.”

I try to respond, but my throat catches. I don’t know if it’s due to dryness or unshed tears. I swallow down a few more gulps of water, until I’m able to recount the events in the city as calmly I can muster. Afterwards, Jin slumps back in the chair next to the couch and puts his head in his hands.

After a few minutes of Jin sitting quietly and myself battling against the pain in both my back and heart, Jin gets up without a word and starts preparing some food. I realize that I’m famished, and I make a mental note to find a way to let him know how much I appreciate everything he does to take care of us all.

The rest of the night passes in an anxious silence. After we eat some stew, we simply take comfort in each other’s company as our eyelids grow weary and the toll of hours of worrying takes effect. I fall asleep on the couch yet again, missing Jungkook’s presence that I had come to know so comfortably. The soft breath that brushed across the floor with every exhale, calming my thoughts and drifting me to sleep, and the hot touch of his arm when it would occasionally find mine in it’s sleep, as though to assure himself that he’s safe, he’s home, and would strangely enough have the very same effect on me.

It’s funny, I think, how it only takes a few months to become so adjusted to something as simple as sleeping next to someone else, that when they’re gone the space next to you and inside of you feels empty, cold, and lonely.

I do not dream tonight.

They don’t return until noon the following day. After helping me rebandage my waist, Jin had gone to wait anxiously on the porch for a sign of them. I am cautiously attempting to stand up and walk without disturbing the wound, and it is then that I hear Jin’s cry of relief.

I run as fast as I can outside, and in the distance I can make out their silhouettes against the desert sand. Jin rushes to help them.

1...2...3… I sigh in relief. All five of them are there. I rush back inside and make room on the couch for Taehyung, shoving off my blankets and pillows. I run (as well as I’m able to) back outside, and I can see them more clearly now. Namjoon is still limping, with his arm around Jungkook’s neck to stabilize himself. Hoseok and Yoongi are supporting between them a figure that looks tired and bloody, but taking step after step on his own to reach home.

Taehyung. I try not to cry in relief, but I can’t help being overwhelmed at the sight. Everyone is coming home, everyone is safe.

They finally tumble inside, and I do what I can to help. Taehyung and Namjoon are laid down on the couch to rest, and Jin sets about bandaging and cleaning and doctoring their wounds. Taehyung isn’t as bad off as I’d expected. He’s decorated from top to bottom with cuts and scrapes, but nothing bad enough to cause any major blood loss or leave any lasting damage. Yoongi and Jungkook collapse on the floor amidst the blankets, too sapped of energy to say or do anything else.

Hoseok, however, is kneeling next to the couch, keeping a cautious eye on Taehyung.

“You sure you’re okay? Do you need anything? Are you in pain?” He drills over and over.

“Hoseok, chill out. I’m fine. I just need rest. If anyone here needs to be doted on, it’s Jimin. He’s the one who took a knife to the back.”

Everyone pauses and looks over at me. After everyone had gotten settled, I had found myself struggling for breath, and had sunken into the armchair to still my spinning head. I now try to straighten up, but the pain in my lower back, though duller now, seems to have spread across my abdomen.

“I’m fine,” I say, but I had winced in between the words “I’m” and “fine,” and I know I don’t sound convincing.

Jin manages to convince Hoseok to help him cook some food for everyone and leave Taehyung alone to rest, and Yoongi retires to his room to sleep. Namjoon and Taehyung close their eyes, worn out and beaten, and my own eyes finally slide across the room to meet Jungkook’s. He had scooted himself over to the wall, and pulled his knees up to his chest.

He gazes at me, small, frightened, defeated, and guilty. I want to hold him close, keep him safe from the world. I want to tell him that it isn’t his fault, he did the best he could and no one blames him for it. I stand up to walk over to him, but lightheadedness overcomes me and I stumble. Jungkook catches me. I hadn’t even seen him stand up.

He bends down to hook one arm around my legs, then hoists me up into his arms.

“I feel like a princess,” I mumble. Jungkook manages a small smile.

He carries me into our room, and sets me down on my bedding. He turns to leave the room, but I stop him.

“Wait,” I beg, sitting up and crossing my legs.

“You need to lie down and heal, a day isn’t enough time for you to be up and moving around.”

“Stay with me?” I plead. Jungkook hesitates, then in a small voice, he replies.

“Why would you ever want to be near me? After what I did? It’s all my f-”

“No.” I cut in. Finally Jungkook turns back to look at me.

“But it is…”

“No. No it’s not. She tricked you, Kookie. She tricked all of us. I’m just as much as fault. As for what you did, you had no choice. Taehyung told you to save me and you listened. You were only doing what you were told. You have no need to feel guilty, it was Taehyung’s choice.”

Jungkook turns again, but only to close the door quietly. He then sits across from me on his bedding, a small cloud of dust, visible only in the sun’s streaming light, releasing into the air as he does so. His eyes focus on his fingers fidgeting with the laces on his boots. His face, normally so full of youthfulness, strength, and determination, is coated in uncertainty, defeat, and pain. My soul aches to see him this way. I scoot forward, so our knees are touching.

“Kookie… we’re all safe. We’re here, thanks to you. Without you, I might never have made it back alive. And we may never have found Taehyung in time. You saved us. You saved me, Kookie.”

Jungkook’s fingers pause, and his eyes flick up to mine. Without realizing it I had leaned closer and closer to him while I was talking, and now our eyes are merely centimeters apart. He looks surprised, but doesn’t back away. The pain is starting to melt out of his warm brown eyes, replaced with a glint of hope.

He exhales, and warm breath travels to the edges of my soul, filling me with comfort and longing. I close my eyes to enjoy it, but another sensation interrupts my senses.

Jungkook’s lips crashing against mine. Soft, a little dry, filled with desperation. Shocked, I jump back slightly, breaking the contact. Looking at Jungkook with wide eyes, I can see the doubt and pain of rejection flash across his eyes, and before he has time to apologize and try to leave again, I reunite our lips. The feelings I hadn’t been allowing myself to feel come flooding out at once, a tsunami of pent up emotion. I allow myself to admit that all this time, since the day he showed up at our door, I had been falling for Jungkook.

And now I know he feels the same way.

Before the kiss has a chance to deepen, we hear Jin’s voice cutting through the moment.

“Jungkook, come get some food for you and Jimin!”

The kiss ends tentatively, our lips lingering on the other’s, and our eyes open, trying to convey to each other how we feel only through our gaze.

Jungkook smiles, a genuine, happy smile that reaches his deep eyes, and my soul seems to sing anthems of hope and joy. He leaves to get the food, and I sit, thinking, and realizing that, while I’ve been happy with the others in this house and this life we’ve made for ourselves, this is the first time I’ve felt hope for a future in this world.