It was like this:

You had to either be completely oblivious, or incredibly stupid not to understand who owned the area.

Seokjin had grew up in one of Seoul’s most affluent neighborhoods. He’d gone to private school, and rarely been exposed to the underbelly of the city. But even he, at least vaguely, had known about the gangs. And he’d heard rumblings of Infinite.

Infinite.

All the gangs were a little different, with specific ways of running things, different rules, and methods of operation. The last thing Seokjin had wanted to do was get into bed with any of them, but more specifically Infinite and its reputation. But the rent on the building for the clinic had been more than reasonable, it was in the perfect location, and Seokjin wasn’t scared to stand his ground if he had to.

But Infinite.

They weren’t like what Seokjin had heard about Bangtan, and not just from his brother, or about Super Junior or SNSD or even the fringe gangs like Sistar and Vixx.

Infinite was headed by a strict, staunchly territorial and no-nonsense man named Kim Sunggyu. Seokjin had met him, and his right hand man, Jang Dongwoo on several occasions, and absolutely not known what to think right up until he realized the depth and severity of the danger he was in.

And that was before Seokjin had even been exposed to Lee Howon, who was Sunggyu’s enforcer, and Nam Woohyun, who rumor had it shared Sunggyu’s bed and his affinity for punishing people who stepped out of line.

Seokjin paid a tithe to the gang, a monthly increment for so called protection, but more for his own from them than anything else. And there was absolutely no getting around it.

Howon, who almost exclusively went by Hoya, had often remarked about his attractiveness. No doubt at the first missed payment Seokjin would end up disappearing from public view and cycled into the rumored ion ring they handled. Seokjin understood that to be a fate worse than death.

And now he had Hoya sitting across from him, looking absolutely relaxed, if a little too pleased, holding Seokjin’s wrist in one hand and tapping out an odd tempo with the fingers on his other. They’d migrated to the kitchenette just a few minutes ago, and Seokjin’s guests were certainly making themselves at home.

“Relax,” Hoya said, all sly and coy as if he didn’t understand what would happen next if it went bad for even a second. “I’m just going to ask you a few questions about the guests you’ve decided to keep, and if you answer honestly and correctly, nothing bad will happen.”

Behind them Seokjin could hear Hoya’s men rummaging through the cabinets, likely eating whatever they could find.

“Like the kind that break in and startle me?”

“Like those.”

Seokjin gave Hoya grimace. “The same that eat my food and prowl around like thugs behind me?”

Hoya suddenly looked less pleased. But a second later he was called out, “Myungsoo, search the place. Take the men. Sungyeol, you stay.”

Feet shuffled on linoleum.

“Now,” Hoya continued, his attention back on Seokjin, “would you believe me if I told you we’re been having a termite problem as of late? All kinds of vermin that doesn’t belong has been seeping into this territory, and naturally, Sunggyu is worried.”

Seokjin wanted to snort--maybe so hard he gave himself a nosebleed.

Hoya added. “These snakes and rats are slipping between our fingers whenever we try to catch them, and making things very difficult for everyone. Recently, we were certain we had a cap on the problem. Until, as fate would have it, they gave us the slip one final time.”

“I don’t know what this has to do with me,” Seokjin said carefully. “Other than the fact that I pay your boss a significant amount of money to make it safe for me to have this clinic. I pay, every month, exactly on time, and I never miss a payment. I’m never short and I rarely have grievances. Wouldn’t you say this is true?”

Hoya ignored his question and instead posed, “These rats ran away, leaving a bread crumb trail of panic and blood, and do you know where they ran to?”

Oh god.

Suddenly Seokjin understood.

“What I really want to know,” Hoya said, his fingers pressing almost painfully into the pulse point on Seokjin’s right wrist, “is why Bangtan ran right to your clinic? And did you treat their wounds?”

His heartbeat was thundering so bad in his head that the thumps were almost enough to knock him off balance.

“I don’t have any idea what you’re taking. Honestly. Bangtan?”

Hoya made a clicking sound with his tongue, something that was likely supposed to sound disappointing, but only came out gleeful. “Was I not clear enough with you before? Lying is naughty.”

Then Hoya was squeezing even harder. He was crushing Seokjin’s wrist in a matter of seconds, causing significant pain. Seokjin refused to cry out in pain, but the grip was nearly unbearable.

“I’m not lying,” Seokjin grit out.

“Then you’re saying that you didn’t have late night visitors?”

There was no way he wasn’t going to bruise. And worse than that, Seokjin’s chest was aching something fierce with his heart overworking itself.

“That’s not what I’m saying at all.”

He forced himself to stop and take several deep, even breaths. He needed to be calm. He needed to be smart. He couldn’t afford to mess up.

“Then,” Hoya said, and his grip finally relented enough that he could probably feel Seokjin’s pulse again, “Go ahead and tell me about what we both know I’m talking about.”

Seokjin nodded down to his wrist and gave Hoya his most scathing look, refusing to cower. “If you’re attempting to discern whether I’m telling the truth or not, taking my pulse won’t work.”

Hoya chuckled. “It hasn’t failed me before.”

“But were you trying to monitor the heartbeat of someone with a heart condition?”

Looking past Hoya, Seokjin told the man who’d remained behind, “I have medication in here, if you want to check to be sure. I have a heart condition that often causes my heartbeat to be irregular. It had nothing to do with whether I’m telling the truth or not.” He looked back to Hoya. “But by all means, continue holding my hand if that’s what you truly want to do.”
 

Hoya release his wrist with a grimace and Seokjin spied the red, agitated skin immediately. He was right. It was going to bruise, and then he’d have a hell of a job trying to explain the finger sized bruises.

“Tell me about Bangtan,” Hoya commanded. “And know that my patience and cordiality is gone.”

“I have no idea who Bangtan is,” Seokjin said swiftly, “other than the things I’ve heard about them. And when men broke into my clinic and set off my alarm, I had no idea who they were until much later. Yes, there were people who broke into my clinic, that much is true. But it’s not like I sheltered them. I’m not stupid. This clinic belongs to Infinite, not Bangtan.”

“You treated them?”

“One had some bruising,” Seokjin relayed, as if having to think about it. That was V. Not that Seokjin was going to tell Hoya anything, but V had been the one with the facial bruising. He’d had the bruises that were so bad it was a miracle he hadn’t broken his jaw. Someone had punched him nearly hard enough for it to happen, and Seokjin was willing to bet if it wasn’t Hoya who was responsible, then it was one of his men.

Hoya looked skeptical. “Only bruising?”

Seokjin relayed, “Another one had a gunshot graze. Nothing serious. It honestly just took off some of his skin and he bled a little, but it was nothing. They weren’t too worse for wear. But yes, I treated them.”

Hoya leaned back in his chair and turned to share a look with his companion. “Out of the goodness of your heart in the early hours of the morning?”

“No,” Seokjin said wryly, “because they had a gun and they pointed it at my face.”

Now Hoya looked more interested. “They forced you?”

“I understood what would happen if I refused to help their men. That’s right around the time I found out who they were.”

“What happened next?”

Seokjin shrugged. “I treated them, they warned me that if I said anything to anyone about them being there, they’d come back, and then they left. They went out the back.”

The other man, one who looked a little less intimidating than Hoya, but not by much, pressed, “Why didn’t you report this immediately to us?”

He threw back, “Why isn’t Sunggyu keeping Bangtan out of this neighborhood?”

Hoya’s hand slammed down so hard on the table that the nuts and bolts holding it together rattled. Seokjin jumped too, and knew he’d overstepped.

Slowly, Seokjin told them, “It’s the first of the month in a couple of days. I planned to tell Sunggyu then. I honestly didn’t think it mattered if I ran to you with this yesterday, or four days from now. They were gone the second they vanished into the night. They weren’t injured badly, and they had too much of a head start. Plus, I have my clinic to think of. I need to prioritize my patients and their safety.”

Once more Hoya’s fingers were tapping on the table, more like a nervous tick than anything else, and Seokjin waited. He waited for Hoya to think his words through, and to decide if they were based in a lie, or truth.

“You think they’ll come back?” Hoya asked.

“Probably not.” Seokjin forced a dry laugh. “They threatened me with a gun, but I was particularly nasty in telling them where they could shove that gun.”

Jimin. Jimin had had the gun. Jimin, who hadn’t smiled once, had had an attitude the entire time, and seemed mean and callous and probably ruthless. The guy that Jungkook said was that way because he loved the men of Bangtan, considered them to be family, and was overprotective.

Now Hoya chuckled.

“My bottom line is this,” Seokjin told Hoya. “I care more about my patients and this clinic than I do about gangs and territory. But I’m also not stupid, and my loyalty is to Infinite. If Bangtan comes around again, or if I know anything that can help, your number will be the first I call. Because like I said, I love this clinic, and Infinite owns this clinic.”

The words tasted like in his mouth. Seokjin wasn’t one for vulgarity, but truly, they tasted like . Infinite, like all the other gangs (maybe even Bangtan, Seokjin didn’t know) were bullies. Infinite liked loyalty, platitudes, being feared, and having absolute control.

This was not Infinite’s clinic. Infinite didn’t own the building, they didn’t own the doctors or nurses, and Infinite didn’t own Seokjin.

Even if he had to say they did, didn’t meant it was true.

“I’ll talk to Dongwoo,” Hoya said, getting to his feet. “He’ll decide how to handle things.”

Everything, Seokjin knew, went through Dongwoo before it reached Sunggyu. And Dongwoo was an odd one. He was kind of terrifying in how he was always smiling, always making a joke out of things. And he didn’t seem like he was capable of taking anything seriously, let alone being a gang leader’s right-hand man. But for all he appeared to be, Dongwoo was certainly a force to be reckoned with. Seokjin would never mistake Dongwoo as docile or not a threat.

Hoya strolled towards the front door and Seokjin followed after him, watching the rest of Hoya’s men fall in line. Of course they hadn’t found anything. No doubt they’d searched everywhere, and looked for the tiniest it of evidence that Seokjin was a defector of some sort, but there was nothing to actually be found.

“You’ll be hearing from us,” Hoya said by way of parting, then he was through the door and Seokjin was shutting it after him.

Seokjin leaned against the closed door with a shudder, in breaths of air, very aware of how close he’d come to the kind of situation he wouldn’t be able to get himself out of.

He’d done his absolute best to protect Jungkook and Bangtan as best he could. He’d lied about a lot of things, including how badly Namjoon had been injured and how long Bangtan had stayed. He’d lied to protect Jungkook whom Infinite would kill just for having an association with Bangtan. And if necessary, he’d lie again. But lying was a dangerous line to walk, and something told Seokjin Hoya was very good at spotting liars with or without his pulse trick.

Whatever was going on with Infinite and Bangtan, whether things were at an all-time high of stress and pressure, or just starting to build up, it didn’t matter. They were gunning for each other. Hoya or one of his men had shot Namjoon. And the situation was about to turn into a full-fledged war zone.

He had to warn Jungkook.

Seokjin fumbled for his cell phone in his pocket and lit up the screen as he unlocked it. He didn’t know what kind of hours his brother kept anymore, especially with it being summer, but a voice mail would do for the moment. Eventually Jungkook would pick up the phone for him, but he was sure to check his voicemail much more quickly.

“Jungkook,” Seokjin said a little breathless. He made his way back to the kitchen, feeling nauseous, and in need of his medication. “You need to call me as soon as you get this. Hoya … Infinite’s Hoya, was just here. He came by and he was asking all these questions about Bangtan and I tried to lie, I think he believed me, but you need to call me. I need to talk to you.” He forced himself to stop, hating how scared he sounded. “Call me.”

He swallowed down a large red pill and a small white one, drank half a glass of water and wished like hell he hadn’t gone out for drinks. He certainly hadn’t had enough to be considered drunk, and with his medical condition it wasn’t something he could risk doing in general, but maybe if there hadn’t been any alcohol in him he could have handled Hoya with a bit more delicacy. He’d let his anger and his attitude run away from him and said things he shouldn’t have.

Almost wearily Seokjin climbed the stairs to his apartment, tugged his shirt over his head and then kicked off his shoes. He was usually much neater, but he felt exhausted. He almost felt as if he’d run a marathon, and all he wanted to do was sleep.

With his cell phone on the bedside table, Seokjin collapsed on his bed face first and promptly passed out.

It was that very cell phone, ringing loudly and vibrating on the bedside table that woke Seokjin a bit later. The sun was already up, thankfully, and Seokjin was feeling a little better than the night before.

Seven. The clock on the cell phone said seven, which meant the clinic was already prepping to open and he was due to see his first patient in about an hour.

His phone, he realized blearily as he wiped at the last bits of sleep in his eyes, wasn’t just vibrating as an alarm. It was actually ringing. Someone was calling him.

“Jin!”

Seokjin flinched a little at his brother’s high pitched voice--a panicked voice.

“Jungkook.”

“Are you okay?” his brother demanded, almost sounding out of breath.

“Yes,” Seokjin assured him, sitting up and stretching. “I’m okay.”

“ing Hoya,” Jungkook hissed, but it was too early for Seokjin to care about his brother’s language. “Are you sure you’re okay? He’s … vicious. He’s the one who shot Rap Mon. Did he touch you? Did he hurt you?”

Seokjin couldn’t help laughing a little, “I think you’re forgetting who’s the big brother and who’s the little.”

He could almost picture the scowl on his brother’s face as Jungkook protested, “Our ages have nothing to do with how we look out for each other. Especially when s like Hoya come around. He tried to make you tell him something? About that night?”

“Of course he did,” Seokjin said. “We need to meet. How about lunch? I’ll tell you everything that happened, and you can tell me what you and the rest of your … friends plan to do.”

He’d thought it might be a little more difficult to get Jungkook to agree to go to lunch, but less than five minutes later as Seokjin was stepping into the shower, he had a noon lunch date with his brother.

They ended up having lunch outside of Infinite territory. It seemed the safer bet, and Seokjin was more than a little nervous. Not owning a car, it had taken several bus transfers to make it to the pizzeria on time, but all of the trouble was alleviated when he noticed Jungkook was already there and waiting for him.

He didn’t realize how much of a relief it was to see Jungkook until his brother was manhandling him up into a firm hug.

Seokjin remembered Jungkook often as the tiny little kid glued to his size. It had seemed almost certainly so, even as puberty hit, that his little brother would remain his short little brother. Now at eighteen Jungkook was taller Seokjin, and stronger, too.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asked, hanging onto him a bit before finally letting go. “Jin?”

Seokjin gave him a kind smile. “How about we make a deal? You start calling me by my full name, and I’ll consider calling you Seagull sometime in the future.”

They sat easily, the smell of tomato sauce and meat in the air, and Jungkook scowled, saying, “That’s not going to be my nickname.”

“Then maybe I should propose that you call me by my full name and I won’t resort to calling you Seagull.”

Jungkook gave a hesitant look, then asked quietly, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I nearly wet myself,” Seokjin admitted lowly. “I went out drinking with my friends the night of, and when I came back, Hoya was waiting for me.” As the paranoia crept back up, Seokjin gave a look around, almost as if he could feel Hoya somewhere, lurking and waiting to catch him with a member of Bangtan. Or however close Jungkook was to that distinction.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Jungkook said, hands laid out on the table. “We’re in JB’s territory. I picked this place for a reason.”

Seokjin frowned. “JB’s?”

“GOT7’s,” Jungkook clarified. “They’re an up and coming gang--they fractured away from 2PM a few months ago, but it was all amicable. They’re just starting to carve out a name for themselves, which means they don’t have beef with any of the other gangs for there to be a problem, and the ones like Infinite won’t pay them any mind, either. No one is watching here. No one will report back to Hoya or any of Sunggyu’s little thugs.”

Tersely, Seokjin pointed out, “You’re hardly one to talk about thugs.”

“So what happened with Hoya?” Jungkook asked, then quickly pointed out, “I ordered us some pizza already. Don’t worry, I remember you like your boring cheese.”

“No doubt,” Seokjin laughed, “you spent half your allowance on your meat toppings.”

Jungkook grinned. “I think you’re forgetting, I actually have a job and get paid. I’m not working for Rap Mon for free. I just take that allowance from dad because I don’t want him to get suspicious before I’m fully prepared to make a clean break.”

Seokjin pursed his lips but didn’t comment on the mention. He thought it was a bad idea, his brother not going to college. It was an even worse idea getting wrapped up in a gang--even if Jungkook insisted they weren’t nearly as bad as Seokjin feared. But worst of all was cutting their father out. Their father was a hard, difficult man. But he was marred by loss and pain, and he was a reflection of all the things he had to endured. Most of all, Seokjin suspected he was lonely, and he hoarded his children close and under his control out of fear and nothing else.

A clean break between Jungkook and their father would have dire implications, maybe even for the both of them. Seokjin couldn’t begin to predict how their father would react, especially if he found out all the details of the truth, but it was going to be like fireworks going off in a brush field.

And Seokjin knew he’d be caught right in the middle of it.

“Rap Mon isn’t like the other leaders, Jin,” Jungkook said. “He doesn’t just throw me into danger and expect me to keep myself afloat. My loyalty and dedication earns me a paycheck for a reason, and I’m even moving in with one of the members next month.”

“That seems fast.”

Jungkook shrugged. “V and J-Hope are getting a new place within the week, and Jimin needs a new roommate to help with the rent. I need a place to stay, so it just kind of worked out.”

Trying not to wince, Seokjin asked, “What about the other one? The one with the round face?”

“Suga,” Jungkook laughed. “He would never live with the others, even if it means all the money he’s got goes to his bills. Suga, I know you wouldn’t think it to look at him, is pretty clean and quiet. He says the others are too loud and dirty.”

There was worry creeping in Seokjin’s periphery, and it lasted until he finally broke down and asked, “How it Namjoon?”

“Good,” Jungkook said almost right away, alleviating at least a bit of Seokjin’s fears. “I saw him not that long ago. He’s in a lot of pain, but he’s singing your praises. He says we’ve got to get ourselves a doctor just like you, and he said to say thank you. He really appreciates what you did for him and for us.”

“He should continue to be looked over by a trained medical professional. He’s not out of the woods yet, just because he’s stubborn and resilient.”

Jungkook brushed the concern off almost gleefully as their pizza arrived.

Jungkook was devouring his first slice when Seokjin leaned closer over the tabletop and said quietly, “Hoya wanted to know about Bangtan. He was trying to fish for information about Namjoon’s injury.” Seokjin reached for his own slice of gooey, wonderful pizza. “I played the injury off. I told him it was just a bullet graze, not bad in the least bit, and I think he believed me.”

Looking startled, Jungkook dropped his pizza and said in a horrified voice, “Jin … your wrist.”

Arm outstretched for the pizza, Seokjin spied his own wrist. The bruises, finger shaped and smudged blue and a little green, were horribly visible against the daylight. Seokjin had been doing his best to hide them at the clinic, switching the wrist he worse his watch on and keeping his doctor’s white coat on at all times. Jungkook noticing was just poor luck.

“Hoya was …”

Jungkook cut in angrily, “That bastard hurt you!”

“He was attempting to check my pulse, to tell if I was lying or not while he questioned me,” Seokjin said calmly, placing a piece of pizza on his plate with a pointed stare. “I’m not a delicate flower, Jungkook. I don’t need you fussing or fretting over me.”

“You’re not exactly in perfect health, either.”

Seokjin wanted to personally thank his brother for reminding him of that, as if every pill he swallowed, every precaution taken, and everything he couldn’t do, wasn’t a reminder enough.

“I’m fine,” Seokjin told him, then took a bite from his pizza, savoring the taste. “I’m more worried about you.”

Looking as if he’d lost his appetite, Jungkook asked, “Did Hoya really seem as if he believed you?”

“Yes,” Seokjin said confidently. “I think he fully believes that I don’t give a damn about Bangtan, that I’ll sell Bangtan out to keep my clinic safe, and that Bangtan is just another gang to me and not worth helping or protecting.”

Jungkook went a little pale.

“He doesn’t know that you’re my brother,” Seokjin said. “He doesn’t know that you are the person I love the most in this world and will do anything to protect. If he knew you were my brother, and associated with Bangtan, he wouldn’t have believed me. And that is why we have to be very careful and never let anyone know--at least until things quiet down. Because the truth is I do care about Bangtan if you’re a part of them, I will protect you and them, and I will help you if you need it.”

Jungkook poked at his pizza. “You’re a really good brother.”

“Well, I still think you’re an idiot,” Seokjin made sure to tell him. “I think what you’re doing is stupid, too. But I will always have your back. I will always back you up.”

“Thanks,” Jungkook mumbled, looking the closest to being weepy that he had in years.

“I think, however, you should tell the rest of your friends to keep away from the clinic. I have no doubt Infinite will be watching it for the next few weeks. They’re already on high alert, with whatever went down to cause Namjoon to be shot.”

Jungkook nodded. “I’ll tell Rap Mon. He probably won’t want to endanger you anyway.”

“I’m not a child in need of protection.”

“You don’t need to be a target, either,” Jungkook said with a smile. “Rap Mon doesn’t like to put innocent people in danger, anyway. If people want to get involved, that’s their own business. As long as they know what they’re signing up for, Rap Mon doesn’t have a problem. But bystanders? People who are just trying to help and be good? That’s completely different. Plus, Rap Mon really likes you. He wouldn’t want to see you get hurt.”

Digging fully into his pizza, Seokjin laughed, “I’m really surprised he remembers me at all. Between the pain and then the drugs I gave him, he should barely know what happened, let alone who treated him.”

“Nah,” Jungkook eased out. “He remembers you--said he could never forget you.”

Of that, Seokjin wasn’t sure what to make.

Between the two of them, and over the next half hour, they consumed an entire pizza. The meal, along with the easy banter and fun conversation, reminded Seokjin of the better times they’d had. There had been a time, no matter how long ago it seemed, when Seokjin had been less preoccupied, and more attentive to his brother.

Maybe if he hadn’t let his need to help people and open his own clinic overtake him, Jungkook wouldn’t have been so deprived for attention that he turned to Bangtan.

Before they left, and as Jungkook slurped up the last of his coke, Seokjin said gently, “If this is what you want to do with your life, regardless if I like it or not, I will support you. I won’t turn my back on you and I will trust that you won’t hurt others. But this is a dangerous thing you’re a part of.”
 

“I won’t hurt innocent people,” Jungkook promised. “In fact, I’m only with Bangtan because they’re the gang that’s trying to make things better for people. They’re trying to make a difference, and that’s what I want to do, too. I can’t be a doctor like you, Jin, or a lawyer like dad wants.”

Seokjin leaned over and thumped Jungkook on the head. “But you need to talk to dad. I know you don’t want to, and it’s going to be hard--probably painful for all parties involved. But you have to. You’re not going to college, but here’s dad asking me to talk you into living at home and not in the dorms. I need you to be honest with him.”

There was more than simple trepidation on Jungkook’s face.

“You’ll feel better once you do.”

“Some how I doubt that,” Jungkook huffed.

The next time Seokjin leaned over it was to push at Jungkook’s hair affectionately. “Take it from someone who’s already been through this. Telling dad I wasn’t going to work at some fancy hospital like a fat cat, and making sure he understood I was going to be as charitable and helpful to the poor community as possible, was terrible. He yelled, he tried to make me feel bad, he was unmanageable, and our relationship was hurt over it. But afterwards? Afterwards I felt like a burden had been lifted from my shoulders. I knew I was free to go on and do what I wanted, and what I knew was right for me. So you need to do the same, if this is what you really want.”

Jungkook scoffed. “You’re advising that I go and tell dad that I’m planning on joining Bangtan, and that in fact I’m currently working with them already.”

“Lean forward,” Seokjin ordered so he could smack his brother again. “Obviously what I’m suggesting is not that you give our father a . But you need to tell him you’re not going to college now, if ever, and that it’s your choice. You need to tell him you have a job, a steady income, that you have a place to stay, and that you’ll be moving out. Tell him, will you, that you love him, but you have to be your own man. If you tell him you have to make your own path and prove yourself, he might be angry with you, but he’ll probably also respect you.”

Incredulously, Jungkook asked, “You think he’ll respect me?”

Seokjin said, “Stranger things have happened.”

“But not more difficult.”

“If I managed it,” Seokjin said, getting to his feet and taking care to tuck his bruised wrist out of sight from Jungkook who looked weepy every time it came into view, “then I most certainly think that my much more hardheaded brother can do it.”

He hoped that Jungkook felt at least a little empowered by the words. Seokjin truly believed in him, just as much as he believed it was important for Jungkook stop lying to their father.

“Come on,” Seokjin said when they’d put off their parting for as long as possible. “I have a full schedule this afternoon and I have to get back. One of the nurses called in today, food poisoning, and we’re stretched extra thing.”

Jungkook made a face. “You work too hard, Jin.”

“You don’t work had enough,” Jungkook elbowed him. “But feel free to send that friend of yours around. V. He’d make a decent replacement for the day.”

A goofy grin stretched across Jungkook’s face. “I don’t think V really likes it all that much that you made him your honorary nurse.”

“I also made a deal with him,” Seokjin replied as he and Jungkook made their way out of the pizzeria and onto the busy street. “He knows the terms that must be necessarily met before I’ll stop referring to him as my nurse.”

Jungkook strolled ahead, his back to the flow of the walkway so he could face Seokjin instead. “He told me, actually. I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you. I’ve known the guy for a while now, and I only just heard his actual name.”

Happily, Seokjin came to a halt at the nearby bus stop and told his brother, “Get back to work, you slacker. But don’t forget to talk to dad, and even if it isn’t completely safe for you or the others to be around the clinic right now, you’re still my brother, and I still like spending time with you. Call me or text me if you just want to hang out. We’ll find neutral ground.”

With a wave and a boyish wink, Jungkook headed off down the street, blending quickly into the crowd before disappearing completely from sight.

After having lunch with Jungkook, Seokjin genuinely felt better. He’d done all he could to protect his brother and give him a fair warning, and Jungkook was nothing if not resourceful. And, Seokjin was more than confident that he’d finally pushed his brother towards squaring things with their father. Even if things turned out badly, they could resolve the tension completely and the both of them could move on.

Those thoughts, and how things did seem to calm down over the next couple of days, really helped to propel Seokjin back into his normal routine. He saw neither hide nor hare of Bangtan, Infinite kept its distance, and that was about as much as Seokjin thought he could ask for.

Then suddenly, a sharp pain caught Seokjin in the chest by the day’s end half a week later, and continued to build into something that had him significantly worried. His usual regiment of pills didn’t seem to be helping much, and as he lay in bed that night, counting the beats of his heart that echoed in his mind, he worried not for the first time if his legacy would be, at best, attempting to keep a clinic going for the purpose of helping the overwhelming in need community.

Sometimes he was so thankful for the time he’d already been given, and for beating the clock hanging over his head. But other nights, when he was feeling particularly sentimental or sad, it never felt like enough. He wanted more, even if that made him wonder if he was being selfish.

By the time the sun came up he was feeling even worse, and the real warning signs were starting to show themselves. He was breathless, light headed, and it was getting harder and harder to think.

“Yoona,” he said, making a quick call in the early hours of the morning. The clinic wasn’t open yet, none of the other staff hard arrived, and it was such short notice, but Seokjin didn’t think he could risk not calling in. “I’m not … feeling well.” He had to go to the hospital.

“Are you okay?” she asked right away, sounding too pert for the morning hours. He was just thankful she was an early riser and was used to getting the occasional early morning call from him. “You didn’t get Lizzy’s food poisoning, did you?”

“No,” he assured her, struggling to get his shoes on. “I don’t think it’s food poisoning. I’m sorry, but I need you to call and cancel the scheduled appointments I have today, and apologize to Jonghyun and Yunho that I won’t be there to help with the walk-in load.”

He leaned heavily on the nearby wall and pulled in ragged breaths.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes,” he promised her, though he couldn’t know for sure until he got to the hospital and had a full workup done. “I’ll try to help out later, but right now I just can’t.”

She made a dismissive sound. “Just try to get better. We’ll hold down the fort for you.”

When the phone call disconnected, Seokjin pocketed his cell and pushed off the wall. He hated feeling weak, and he hated being weak. But as there was nothing he could do about it, he had to push on.

So slowly, deliberately, he made his way to the hospital.