“Don’t you think instead we should talk about how you almost had a heart attack tonight?”

Seokjin narrowed his eyes at his brother. “You’re attempting to distract me.”

But then he wasn’t so sure, because Jungkook looked absolutely serious and worried as he insisted, “Oh, we can talk about all the things you want to know in a second. I’m fully prepared for that lecture, I have readied myself. But Jin, you almost … it looked like …”

“Your friend,” Seokjin said tersely, “the one with the gun, he startled me.”

He could still recall the feeling that had overcome him the moment he’d seen the gun. The fear had made his skin feel sticky, and the lightheadedness had come right after.

“Jimin,” Jungkook said with a sigh. “That’s my fault, Jin. I’m really sorry. I was back with J-Hope. I told Jimin and V to go ahead, to take Rap Mon to you, because I knew you were the closest, safest place to get him treated. I also knew he had a gun, but I didn’t think he would pull it on you. He’s just high strung. He was running high on adrenaline. We almost lost Rap Mon. We almost lost someone we’d do anything for.”

Seokjin sighed. There was never an excuse for bringing a weapon into a house of healing. But instead of fighting the matter, he told his brother, “I can tell all of you care very much for each other. I believe you when you said your …. friend pointed that gun at me out of desperation.”

Angry, Jungkook said harshly, “He still shouldn’t have. I told him the only person here at this time of night was my brother. I told him. He knew it was you. He could have shot you. Your heart could have…”

“It doesn’t make me weak, you know,” Seokjin pointed out calmly. He raised his coffee mug to his lips and enjoyed a long drink. “I’ve had plenty of time to come to grips with my limitations.”

“I saw you on the floor, gasping for air. I thought you needed an ambulance.”

Seokjin shook his head. “I managed to find my medication in time.” And since then his nerves had calmed fully, and there was only the barest remnant that his heart had strained so terribly it had almost given out.

“It’s my fault you needed it!”

The bedroom door cracked open and V’s head poked out slowly, a confused, worried look on his face.

“It’s all right,” Seokjin assured, waving a hand at him.

“Okay,” V said quietly.

When he was back in the bedroom with Namjoon, Seokjin said to Jungkook, “I think we both know that the condition of my heart has nothing to do with you. In any case, what happened tonight could have happened at any other time. I’m afraid it’ll start happening more frequently, too.” He cracked a sad smile.

Blinking slowly, Jungkook inferred, “It’s getting worse?”

“Maybe,” Seokjin offered. “I feel the tension and pain more frequently now. The medication … it doesn’t seem to be as effective. I go to my cardiologist every couple of weeks and she doesn’t think …” Seokjin broke off, and after a moment’s pause, asked instead, “Who are these people you’ve brought into my clinic?”

Jungkook rushed to say, “I only brought them here out of desperation. Before this I made sure they knew your clinic was absolutely off limits. I didn’t want to get you caught up in anything.”

“Caught up in whatever you’re caught up in?”

Seokjin’s brother was eighteen now, on the verge of becoming a full-time college student, and most certainly not the little boy who had held his hand compulsively for almost a full year after their mother’s death. But now, as he hung his head and fidgeted nervously, Seokjin found it almost impossible to consider him an adult.

“Who are they?” Seokjin asked one more time. “Obviously they’re a gang of sorts. I’m not an idiot. But what I’m asking is which of Seoul’s many gangs have you brought into a house of healing?”

Voice strained, Jungkook said finally, “Bangtan.”

“Jesus.”

Seokjin felt like crumpling. He folded forward, bracing his forearms on the table, and demanded harshly, “Are you an idiot, Jungkook?”

Seoul had, at any given time, and depending on what was happening on a street level, a dozen prolific gangs. There were at least a dozen organized groups of hoodlums running around, causing trouble, getting into fights, extorting people, and making it harder and harder for Seokjin to take care of the people around him.

“You probably think so.”

“I’m starting to know so.”

Bangtan. More specifically, the Bangtan Boys. Bangtan Sonyeondan.

In terms of territory rights, Seokjin’s clinic didn’t fall in their boundaries. They were much further out, on the fringes of Seoul and near the more industrial areas. And while Seokjin didn’t know specifically the kind of trouble they preferred to get into, and each gang had a preference, Seokjin knew they weren’t anything to write off.

“Bangtan,” Seokjin said again, as if he could barely believe his brother’s stupidity.

“They’re not that bad!” Jungkook said defensively, and Seokjin wanted to reach across the table and slap the back of his head.

Seokjin said in a pointed, sharp way, “They are a gang of hoodlums. You, who has had every opportunity for greatness, grown up affluent and with all the advantages one can hope for, have no place associating with little boys who run around creating chaos. Hurting people!”

“Bangtan doesn’t hurt people!”

“You’re an idiot if you think that!”

Again, their voices rose so sharply that Seokjin could hear V moving around in the bedroom. But this time he didn’t peek out, and Seokjin was more than glad for it.

Hissing quietly at Jungkook, Seokjin asked, “Do you even know whose territory you’ve brought Bangtan into? Do you know who runs these streets here?”

Jungkook gave a shaky nod. “The same people who shot Rap Mon, beat the crap out of J-Hope, and told V that they were going to drop him in the river with cement shoes.”

Seokjin hurried to finish his coffee. His nerves couldn’t handle this. He couldn’t afford to get worked up again, but talking with his brother was aggravating and worrying and it was making him anxious.

Jungkook said softly, “Bangtan really are different. They’re about keeping their streets clean and safe for their community. They’re not like the others. I wouldn’t fall in with people who hurt other people, not when my big brother taught me that the most important thing in the world is helping others. I’m with Bangtan because they care about people.”

Seokjin wanted to believe Jungkook. And the way the gang members had talked to each other, looked at each other, and worried after each other, did seem to indicate a sense of selflessness and maybe even family. And Namjoon … his wasn’t the face of a killer.

Seokjin had been exposed to all kinds of people since opening his clinic. He thought he was pretty good at spotting the kinds of people who were innocent, and the ones that were only pretending to be. Namjoon had the kind of face that didn’t make Seokjin feel uncomfortable or worried. And Seokjin’s intuition was rarely wrong.

But a gang member was a gang member, and illegal behavior was illegal behavior.

“How did you end up with them?” Seokjin asked. He would have given anything for a second cup of coffee, but at one he’d already reached his limit of the day, even with it being decaf. Everything else for the rest of the night needed to be water, especially with his earlier scare.

Jungkook gave an almost helpless shrug to his shoulders. “I’ve been …restless the past couple of years. I’m not like you, Jin. You’ve known what you wanted to be since we were kids, but me? I’ve never found that thing I’m good at. I don’t have a special talent or anything like that. I don’t have the dedication and drive and interest that you do.”

Seokjin frowned, then asked, “You don’t want to continue on with your schooling, correct?”

“Not really,” Jungkook said almost bashfully.

“But you still applied to college. You did that well over a year ago.”

“Have you tried saying no to dad?”

Seokjin grimaced. Of course, of all the things that they knew best as brothers, it was the sheer force of their father’s will and determination. What he said went, and he controlled the flow of money completely. If Jungkook wanted to have access to their family’s money in any way, he would have been required to attend college, and maybe that was the real reason he’d agreed to it.

Wringing his hands, Jungkook said, “I told dad I’d go to college to buy myself time to figure out what I wanted to do.”

“He thinks he’s going to make you into a lawyer,” Seokjin said, “or an accountant.”

Jungkook snorted.

“I know,” Seokjin laughed.

With a little more seriousness, Jungkook said, “I went down into Bangtan’s territory about eight months ago. I knew graduation was coming up, and I only had a little time before it happened, and before dad figured out quickly enough that I wasn’t going to college like he thought and I’d said. I wasn’t looking to join a gang at the time, Jin. Stop looking at me like that. I was looking to get a job in freight.”

Seokjin pulled back. “A job in freight.”

“I have a couple of older friends who work at the shipping yard. They graduated a year ahead of me and I kept in touch with them. I told them about dad, about not knowing where I wanted to go or what I wanted to do, and they said they could get me a job at the shipping yard. They said I could make money, figure things out, and maybe even get transferred outside of Seoul if I wanted something new. I had a couch lined up to sleep on and everything. I thought I had it figured out.”

Feeling flushed with shame, Seokjin asked, “Didn’t you think you could come to me with this? I’ve always supported you, Jungkook. I have always encouraged you to do what makes you happy. I would have done my best to shield you from dad.”

“I know you would have,” Jungkook rushed to say, voice going pitchy. “You’re the best brother a guy could hope for. But I knew then, and I know now, when dad finds out, it’s going to be like the North Koreans are invading. It’s going to be really, really bad. I didn’t want to put you in a bad place between us. I didn’t want dad coming down on you, too.”

“Hey,” Seokjin said, and now the urge to smack his brother had passed, and all he wanted to do was hug him. “You are my baby brother. It’s my job to protect and shield you however I can, and I’d do it gladly. You can always come here, Jungkook. You will always have a place with me. You don’t need to join a gang.”

Jungkook cracked a smile. “I told you, I didn’t exactly set out to join Bangtan, it just kind of happened. And yeah, I’m not even technically in yet. Soon, but not yet.”

Seokjin got to his feet and placed his empty coffee mug in the nearby sink. He retrieved a water bottle instead from the refrigerator and asked, “Then how did it happen?”

“That shipping job,” Jungkook said. “I was talking with the supervisor for the night shift about getting to start part time as soon as I graduated when a couple of guys showed up and started causing trouble. A lot of the guys working at the time took off, but I stayed to help fight and defend the place.”

Twisting the cap off the water bottle, Seokjin couldn’t help saying, “You’ve always enjoyed fighting a little too much.”

When they’d been younger, much younger, in the years following their mother’s death, Jungkook had gotten into all kinds of fights. He was the first to jump in if an opportunity was presenting itself, and the last to be pulled away once he was in it. Jungkook wasn’t especially inclined towards violence, but Seokjin thought he used it as a way of managing the anxiety and tension in him. It was obvious Jungkook didn’t fight to hurt others, he simply fought to feel better.

“Bangtan showed up a little after that,” Jungkook added. “Rap Mon was really impressed that I’d stayed to watch the backs of the other guys, even though I didn’t owe them any loyalty. And when he heard I needed a job, he gave me an option. He said I could have that shipping job, he’d make it happen, or I could become a runner for Bangtan and a full member in half a year or so.”

Seokjin leaned back against his kitchen countertop. “You’re going to have to let me know what a runner is. I’m not familiar with gang terminology and colloquialisms.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes. “It just means I ran errands for Bangtan for the first couple of months. I took things where they needed to go, passed on messages, did small stuff, and built up some loyalty. I never honestly thought it would be more than that. Then a couple of weeks ago Rap Mon pulled me to the side. He said he liked what he’d been seeing from me, said I was the kind of person he’d been looking for, and told me he was eyeing me for something more--something better than just being a regular member.”

Seokjin really didn’t like the sound of that.

“Jin,” Jungkook said hopefully. “Bangtan isn’t like the other gangs. They care about helping people. They care about keeping control of the streets and making sure people are as safe as they can be. I want to be a part of that. I want to know that because I’m willing to do the hard stuff, kids can play outside, and girls can walk down the street without having to worry about being hassled or worse.”

His fingers were wet where they clutched at the water bottle, and Sokejin didn’t doubt for a second that Jungkook believed what he was saying. But things were rarely so cut and dry. And Jungkook probably hadn’t seen half the things the gang did just yet.

“So, you’re going to join?”

“You want me to say no,” Jungkook said knowingly. “But I am. Rap Mon is someone I respect. I respect what he’s doing, too. Most of the other gangs, including the ones around this area, push drugs. They extort people and they pretend to help people while just hurting them. Jin, I couldn’t be a part of something that hurts people. Even if you can’t believe in Bangtan, can you believe in me?”

The water bottle was easily set to the side and Seokjin made his way to his brother’s side. He tugged him up into a hug.

“I trust you, Jungkook. I have always trusted you and your judgment. What I don’t trust is the people around you who will attempt to take advantage of your good heart.”

Jungkook clutched tightly to Seokjin. “Rap Mon isn’t the kind of person. He just isn’t, and you’ll see.”

This wasn’t something Seokjin could support. He couldn’t possibly support the idea that his little brother had gotten himself involved with a gang and essentially painted a target on himself. And their father hadn’t even found out yet. It would be a thousand times worse when he did.

But neither did Seokjin think he could control Jungkook. His little brother was his own man now, and that simply meant accepting and respecting his choices.

Giving him a small push, Seokjin said, “Go take a nap on the sofa. I’m going to check in on Namjoon.”

“Oh, wait.” Jungjook caught the sleeve of the shirt he’d put on to replace the blood stained one. “Can you … maybe you shouldn’t call him that.”

“His name”?” Seokjin raised an eyebrow.

“It’s not … he goes by Rap Mon for a reason.”

Seokjin nearly crossed his arms in defense. “He personally told me his name, Jungkook. And I refuse to call you or any of those other boys by their ridiculous nicknames. Only a coward hides behind a false name.”

A dark expression crossed Jungkook’s face. “That’s not why they have nicknames. That’s not why I’ll get one. It’s to protect the people who care about. It’s to protect anyone who helps us, and that’s why you can’t say anything about Rap Mon or his real name. There are at least half a dozen gangs that would do anything for that kind of information and where it would lead them.”

“Who am I going to tell?” Seokjin asked with a grin. “Don’t worry.”
 

“I do,” Jungkook said honestly. “I worry a lot.”

“Go rest,” Seokjin said, pushing at him again. “I’ll send my faithful nurse out to rest with you. I’m sure Namjoon will be perfectly fine without a bodyguard. I’m certainly not going to hurt him, and I have every bit of confidence that your scary, gun wielding thug friend is standing outside in the nearby alley right now, salivating over the first hint of trouble.”

Jungkook trekked his way to the comfortable sofa that had a small but nice television across from it. “Jimin’s just protective. We’re his family. Bangtan is everything to him.”

Seokjin leveled a finger up at Jungkook. “Protective or not, you tell him to never bring a gun in this clinic again. If he does, he’s the one who’ll end up shot next time.”

Jungkook gave a visible gulp and Seokjin was satisfied.

“I don’t think I should leave,” V said once Seokjin was in the bedroom, observing the almost completely drained blood bag and the stable vitals of the sleeping man in his bed. “Just in case.”

“Do you know the specific warning signs to look for in case the patient becomes distressed or his vitals drop?” Seokjin asked in almost a distracted way, moving to lift open the window across the room for a bit of summer air. “Do you, Nurse V?”

V was silent for a minute, then said cautiously, “He’s our leader.”

Seokjin let all of the fight fade from him. “That’s what Jungkook implied. Therefore, I know he’s important to you. I won’t let anything happen to him. You have my word as a doctor, and as a man.”

“It’s not just that he’s important,” V pressed. “He’s the glue that holds us together. Without him, I don’t think we could manage. We need him way more than he needs us, and the people who depend on us, need him. He’s our leader in every possible way.”

Seokjin looked back to Namjoon on the bed. “Does he …” He wasn’t sure how to get the words out right, or if they should even be said just yet. “Does he take care of my brother? Watch out for him?”

Looking rock steady, V promised, “Rap Mon didn’t even want to bring him in for a while. He thought Jungkook was too young and he didn’t want to risk him. But none of us could deny the asset he seemed to be, and the wonderful kind of person he is. He makes us all a little better, and Rap Mon knew we needed that. But yeah, Rap Mon watches out for him. He looks after him, makes sure he doesn’t get put deliberately in the way of trouble, and protects him.”

Seokjin challenged, “Jungkook was there tonight, though, when he was shot. That’s putting my brother in the way of trouble.”

V shook his head. “Jungkook wasn’t there. Not when the shooting happened. He was the lookout when the … exchange went bad. But you’d better believe Jungkook came in like an avenging angle and saved us all. He was just enough of a distraction for us to get Rap Mon out of there. And more than that, if Jungkook hadn’t convinced us that you’re a great doctor and trustworthy, Rap Mon might have bled out before he got help.”

“You realize the trouble you might be bringing down on my clinic?”
 

Seokjin wondered if V was around the same age as Jungkook. He didn’t look much more than eighteen or nineteen, and certainly not old enough to be running around with dangerous men and guns.

“We didn’t have a choice. When someone you care for has their life on the line, you do whatever you have to.”

After a moment of hesitation, Seokjin nodded towards the door. “I’m serious. Go relax with Jungkook.” But then he frowned and stepped closer to V, reaching long fingers out for the man’s jaw.

V flinched visibly, but to his credit held still as Seokjin looked over the rapidly spreading bruise on his chin.

“You’re lucky, too,” Seokjin deduced, releasing his chin. “This is a massive bruise, and the impact radius is more than impressive. You probably should have broken your jaw from the looks of it.”

V brought his own fingers up to the area. “Hurts like hell.”

Carefully seating himself on the edge of the bed and reaching for Namjoon’s wrist to take his pulse, Seokjin said, “Go to my bathroom first. It’s the only other room up here. I have regular painkillers in there. Get a couple. And for god sake, if you have any trouble speaking, swallowing, or talking over the next few days, come see me.”

Looking stunned, V asked, “You want me to come back here?”
 

Seokjin raised an eyebrow. “Yes, so I can treat you, should complications arise.”

V gave a bashful smile and headed to the door, admitting, “I was pretty sure that at some point you were going to tell all of us to get the hell out and never come back.”

The steady, reassuring thumps of Namjoon’s pulse did a lot of ease Seokjin.

“I’m a doctor,” Seokjin reminded. “So even when I don’t like the circumstances surrounding the people I’m treating, I still do it. That’s what being a doctor means. So if you have any problems, you come back and I’ll deal with them. I’m here to serve the public, and no matter what you do outside of here, you are still a member of that public.”

V gave him an odd look.

“What?” Seokjin asked, feeling a little uncomfortable.

“Jungkook,” V eased out, cracking open the door. “He said you were a special kind of doctor, and an even better person. I didn’t know what he meant until now.”

V slipped out of the room and Seokjin wondered what it meant that he was starting to like the weird collection of boys in Bangtan more and more.

Except for the one with the gun.

“Looks like it’s just you and me,” Seokjin told Namjoon as things fell silent again.

He dragged the chair at the desk nearby to the side of the bed and sat on it gingerly. Seokjin reached for the nearby tablet he’d abandoned when he’d heard the alarm first go off, and despite his heavy eyelids, started back up reading the article where he’d left off.

For several times over the next few hours Seokjin routinely took Namjoon’s temperature, checked the wound for infection, and monitored his vitals.

But then, sometime after three, he closed his eyes and lost the fight with alertness that he’d been battling for a while.

Seokjin jerked awake sometime later in a panic. Something was buzzing nearby, the bed next to him was empty, and it was still dark outside.

Fumbling for his phone on the nearby bedside table, Seokjin saw that he was receiving the customary warning text from the cleaning company that they were minutes away from deactivating the alarm code and entering the building.

The damn cleaning service. Seokjin had forgotten that before Yoona arrived, before Yunho and Jonghyun showed up to see their first patients, the cleaning service they employed made a complete sweep of the entire building.

And the bed was empty.

In an uncoordinated and embarrassing way, Seokjin stumbled his way out of the bedroom and into the living space of his apartment, only to find that Jungkook and V were both missing as well.

There was no sign of a struggle of any kind, so Seokjin was inclined to believe that they’d all left of their own accord. But Namjoon shouldn’t have been moved so quickly, not without a few more hours to rest, and how it had all happened with Seokjin next to the bed was a bigger mystery. Maybe he had just been that tired. He hadn’t had a full night’s sleep in months and he often managed only a few hours at a time.

Faintly Seokjin could hear the alarm deactivating downstairs and he forced himself not to panic.

Part of him, anyway, hadn’t really expected the Bangtan Boys to hang around any longer than necessary. This wasn’t their territory, they were in danger every second they remained, and they were also putting the clinic in danger.

Seokjin ran a heavy hand through his hair and took one more deep breath. Then he reached for a nearby robe, slid it on and headed downstairs to greet the cleaning company and explain away the sudden appearance of blood in the clinic.

“Maybe we should consider getting some kind of security,” Yunho said the second Seokjin told him about the false break-in. Lying, for Seokjin, had been the only option. Professionally Seokjin trusted his colleagues in every possibly way, but with the safety of his brother on the line, lying was the only course of action.

Nearby, with a chart open for review, Jonghyun interjected and asked, “What exactly did you expect to pay this potential security with, Yunho? Lollipops and Hello Kitty Band-Aids? That’s what we have the budget for. As it is, we might need to all take a pay cut very soon to make our expenses.”

“What we need,” Yunho grumbled, “is some kind of financial assistance. We need government funding, charity, or something. We can’t continue to provide for the community if we’re barely making back enough to cover the electricity.”

The worst part was, their projected costs for the next few weeks already put them over budget by a significant amount. It seemed as if word was getting around more quickly about the services they offered, and there was a downside to that. It was Seokjin’s ultimate dream to provide health care for anyone and everyone, but even he understood that if they didn’t find a way to bring more money in, they’d be in danger of closing their doors.

“I’ll ask around,” Seokjin promised, giving Yunho a firm nod. “My father works for the government. It’s not exactly his department, but I’ll ask about what kind of tax breaks, funding, or provisions we can apply for. Maybe there’s something out there we’re not seeing. And if worst comes to worst, I’ll take a complete pay cut.”

Jonghyun gave him a sad look. “We deserve to be able to provide for the community and still make a living.”

Yunho shot at him, “It’s easy for you to say. Your boyfriend brings home more in a month than we make in a year.”

“That’s an exaggeration,” Jonghyun argued back.

Seokjin wasn’t honestly so sure. And he also knew for a fact, not that he thought Yunho did, that Jonghyun’s boyfriend, Kibum, was a good part of the reason they’d been able to get so much equipment in so quickly at the start. Kibum, though he preferred to be called Key, had put a massive amount of money into their clinic, and asked nothing in return. He wasn’t even named as a benefactor. But every quarter, when Kibum made his annual donation, Seokjin thanked him personally with a bottle of his favorite wine. Very, very, very expensive wine.

“I still think we need to consider security of some kind,” Yunho interjected again, even as Yoona gestured to them and tapped her watch. She was more than a receptionist most of the time, and Seokjin wasn’t sure how they’d get on without her if ever something like that came to pass. “We’re ruined if we lose anything in here, and it’s dangerous for Seokjin.”

Darkly, Jonghyun asked, “What’s the point of paying for protection, if any thug in the neighborhood thinks he can make an easy target out of us.”

“We can worry about that later, too,” Seokjin said firmly, taking a step back. The only thing he wanted to do was curl up in a dark corner somewhere and get a couple extra hours of sleep. But considering he had a consultation in less than ten minutes, he knew that would have to wait. “I suggest we all get back to work.”

“I suggest we get a gun,” Jonghyun said, and even Yunho looked agreeable to the notion.

“No guns,” Seokjin told them roughly. “No guns ever.”

“Think about it,” Jonghyun called after him.

It would be a cold day in hell, Seokjin vowed, when he let another gun come into his clinic.

As predicted, the rest of the day flowed steadily, if a little slow, but the familiarity and the routine helped settle Seokjin. He saw his patients, logged updated medical charts, made important phone calls, and by the end of the night he had apologetic text messages from his brother.

He sent back a few angry ones of his own, demanding that his brother call him, or better, come over. But he wasn’t holding his breath. If his brother had run off so quickly without bothering to wake him, it probably meant he wouldn’t be back for a while.

“Seokjin?”

At the sound of the day’s late shift receptionist, Lizzy, Seokjin looked up to see her smiling face. One of the nurses, Raina, was standing next to her. Nana, the third member to the trio of girls that seemed to go everywhere together, was out sick with a cold.

And behind them, Jonghyun was pulling off his tie, making himself look almost instantly more casual as he said, “We’re going out for drinks afterwards. Come with us.”

Seokjin gave an almost forlorn look around. “I still have so much work to do.”

Jonghyun said, “Key is back in town for ten days before he flies out to Milan for his next fashion show. How about you bite the bullet, come see him for a while, and drink some soju for a few hours with us.”

“Okay,” Seokjin found himself saying almost right away. Kibum was a good friend, Seokjin hadn’t seen him in some time, and honestly, he could do with a drink. “Let me shut everything down and lock up.”

Their group didn’t go far, only a few blocks away, but Kibum was already there waiting for them, having secured a table and a round of drinks.

“To you poor ers,” Kibum demanded, raising his own drink high, something frilly and fruity looking, and something obviously not soju. “Wasting your lives way working hard and getting nothing in return.”

Jonghyun rolled his eyes good naturedly, a firm arm around Kibum’s shoulders, and told him, “What we consider getting something in return and what you do, are two completely different things.”

Kibum insisted, “You’re lucky I’m a er for losers who like to help other people more than themselves.”

Jonghyun snuck a small, appreciative kiss to his cheek in between drinks of soju.
 

Lizzy and Raina laughed into their hands and even Soekjin smiled. It wasn’t often he got to go out with his colleagues and employees, but he truly liked them all. Better than that, he liked spending time with them, and maybe he was working too hard if he couldn’t remember the last time they’d all gone out.

“--telling Key during my lunch break how we need to get some kind of financial assistance for the more hefty medical procedures our patients need, and basic operating costs that are only growing.”

Seokjin blushed madly as he caught the tail end of what Jonghyun was saying. He endlessly appreciated the donations Kibum made to their clinic, all the while complaining about wasted money but never holding back, but Soekjin was at least a little ashamed that they needed the donations of Kibum’s type. Seokjin had always known that a clinic of their type would need a few sponsors, but he wanted them to be sponsors who truly cared about the cause, and not just a person who cared about a specific doctor.

Trying to sound confident, Seokjin told Kibum, “We’re going through a couple of options right now, thinking things over. We’ll figure something out. Even if I have to start pawning things, I’ll find a way to keep the clinic open.”

That was his name on the front door. It was his pride and his ability as a doctor on the line. And he was not giving any of it up.

Kibum tapped his chin with one hand, and held his long stemmed glass in the other before stating, “I got an invite from a friend of mine about a hospital gala being held in a couple of weeks.” Kibum waved a dismissive hand. “It came from and old friend, so not going wasn’t an option beforehand, but I’m actually going to be out of the country by the time it rolls around. How about you take my invitation instead, go get greasy with all the guys with deep pockets who’ll be in attendance, and get yourself a couple of more interested investors.”

“A hospital gala,” Seokjin repeated slowly.

Kibum nodded. “It’s an anniversary party of some sort, seriously, it sounds boring. But if I went it would be as a favor to my friend. If you went, not only would you know what everyone was talking about, but you could plead your case to anyone and everyone who’ll listen. It’s not ideal, but hey, if you can get one person to write a check to the clinic, isn’t it worth going?”

“I’ll go if you want,” Jonghyun volunteered, shrugging his shoulders.

“No.” Seokjin said firmly. “I started the clinic, it’s my responsibility to make sure it stays open.” He bowed gratefully to Kibum. “I’ll accept the invitation. Thank you.”

Kibum winked at him and took a drink. “Now all you have to do is find a date.”

Seokjin’s eyes widened. “A date?” He had possibly squeaked that out.

“It’s a gala,” Kibum said in a pronounced way, as if he thought Seokjin was suddenly hard to hearing.

Lizzy reached out to touch Kibum’s arm gently and said, “I’ve been working at the clinic the longest, almost a full year, and I’ve never seen him show an interest in a single person.”

“No,” Raina cut in decisively, “there was that caterer about nine months ago, and I swear he made heart eyes at that one podiatrist.”

“Funny,” Seokjin said blandly. His fingers curled around his cup of soju.

Kibum nudged him under the table. “But really. You have to have a date.”

Seokjin’s stomach bottomed out. That, he decided, could be a problem.

Several hours later Seokjin was most certainly the least drunk of his friends as he watched Jonghyun and Kibum flop themselves ungracefully into a cab. Lizzy and Raina had taken the one moments earlier, and as Jonghyun waved to him, Seokjin was left alone.

It was the middle of August now, almost to the end, and even the nights were hot. So to Seokjin it was a small favor that he could make the short trek back to the clinic, only a couple blocks, without freezing to death. And because of the sticky heat, Seokjin was more inclined to think that people would be less hesitant to bother him.

And as if by a godsend, he made it to the clinic without interruption, and in good time. He hadn’t been lying when he’d told the others that he still had a lot of work to do. He was overbooked for the next day, needed to shuffle appointments around, make at least one more nagging call to his brother, and figure out what he was going to do about getting an anesthesiologist. The clinic had had one, part time, for a few months a while back. And most of their business at the clinic didn’t require one. But more and more Seokjin had been sensing a need, and though they didn’t have the budget, they had to have one.

Now also on his mind was the gala. It was absolutely the best opportunity possible to gain funding that the clinic desperately needed. But a date?

Where the hell was he going to get a date?

Sighing heavily, Seokjin slotted his key into the front door and pushed it open.

Then he promptly froze.

He knew for a fact that as he’d left, being the last person out of the clinic, he had set the alarm. He had punched in the buttons correctly before pulling the door closed behind him. So why wasn’t the alarm going off now to signal the perimeter had been breached.

There was no alarm and that was a problem.

With shaking fingers Seokjin reached for the light switch on the nearby wall. And he was blinking sharply when the reception area lit up.

There was a lump in Seokjin’s throat at the truly terrifying sight of a half a dozen men filling his waiting room. And they weren’t Bangtan.

No, this was something much worse.

One of the men got to his feet with a sweeping, graceful kind of way. He stretched in an exaggerated show, drawing out the tension, and then cocked his head towards Seokjin.

“It’s not the first of the month,” Seokjin said quickly, hating how uneasy he was immediately.

“Oh, that,” the man said, and the others were rising from their chairs in an intimidating way. “That’s not what I’m here for.”

“Then …”

“Doctor Kim,” the man said, taking several steps forward. “We need to talk about the company you keep.”

Seokjin pressed back against the door feeling trapped.

“Or rather,” the other man said, “the company you help.”

“Help?”

The man took a few more steps, and then Seokjin was almost nose to nose with Lee Howon, Infinite’s enforcer who went by Hoya gleefully while he broke noses and snapped fingers.

“We need to have a little talk,” Hoya said, and he reeked of danger in the way that Seokjin feared most of all. “You’re going to tell me all about the late-night visitors you had last night, and then I’m doing to decide what to do with you.”

“I don’t know--”

“Don’t,” Hoya said sharply, his tone becoming much more threatening, “think about playing me for a fool. I know who was here last night. Now I want to know why. Because I think you know full well where your loyalties ought to lie, and what will happen if I think for a second they don’t.”

Hoya pressed further into Seokjin’s personal space and Seokjin had no idea what would happen next, only that it probably wasn’t going to be good. Whenever anyone from Infinite came around, it never was.

“I assume you’ll answer my questions now?”

Seokjin breathed in deeply, then gave a nod.

A smile stretched its way out across Hoya’s face. “Good. Very good. Let’s get started.”