“I hope you know how much of a life saver you’re being for me right now,” Seokjin told Victoria as he took her through the clinic on the first and likely only short tour she’d receive before she finished up the last of her newcomer paperwork and started working.

Victoria, who was likely one of the prettiest women Seokjin had ever seen, gave him an even prettier smile and said, “You’re doing me the favor.”

“Hardly,” Seokjin said skeptically. “Victoria, look, I’m very proud of my clinic. We’ve come a long way over a short period of time, but you are a highly decorated and incredibly talented neurosurgeon. You are about to agree to work at a clinic that can’t even afford some of the equipment you use regularly. So, while I very much appreciate you agreeing to do this, especially for six months, you’re ultimately consigning yourself to being a general practitioner and not furthering your career.”

“And what makes you think furthering my career is what I want right now?” she asked him.

Seokjin led her to the last room on the tour, the currently empty operating room. “Because you’re brilliant, and brilliant doctors don’t want mediocrity.”

“Then I could say the same for you.”

Seokjin bristled at her compliment. “I’m doing something brilliant right here,” he told her. “Because one day this clinic is going to be ten times this size, and it’s going to be able to accommodate the medical needs of the whole community. And I absolutely have all the faith and confidence in the world that we will get there. But at the moment, a neurosurgeon of your caliber is wasted here.”

Hair trailing behind her as she examined the operating room, Victoria stated, “I could have stayed in China, but that would mean being parted from my husband for the next six to nine months, and I preferred almost any other alternative to that. And you’re right, I had offers from John Hopkins in America for a short tenure there, and from all the best medical hospitals in Japan and South Korea.”

“But?”

“But I’m getting older,” she admitted slowly. “I’m in my thirties now, and I’ve mostly bypassed the stage of one’s life where there are children. I’ve resigned myself to the reality that my life will be defined not by my progeny, but by the legacy of work I leave behind.”

At that, Seokjin nodded deeply. Most doctors, at least those female and high enough in their respective specialty files, tended to put off children until much later in life, or completely. It was an unfortunate thing that Seokjin didn’t think needed to happen if the medical field was more accommodating and supportive. Male doctors often had families and children without sacrificing their careers, and Seokjin hated what that said about the gender inequality among the medial elite.

Seokjin still held out hope that he would have a family of his own one day. He was only in his twenties, and had plenty of time. And he wanted that lovely feeling that came with people who waited up for him to come home at night. He wanted a partner to help shoulder responsibilities with, and children with soccer practices, piano recitals, and first days of school.

Seokjin didn’t know if that was in his future in the least bit, but he hoped so.

“Your legacy,” Seokjin insisted, “is going to be very, very impressive.” Hers was the kind that students were going to study for decades to come in an attempt to emulate her techniques.

Victoria said, “In six to nine months, when my husband’s business takes him back to China, I’ll go as well. I’ll go back to my hospital, continue my research, and hopefully continue to improve the lives of anyone and everyone I can. But I’m starting to want more than that.”

“More?” Seokjin asked, more than a little baffled.

She gave a nod. “For me, satisfaction isn’t being found in the newest surgical techniques, the ones that five carefully chosen people a year will have access to. More and more I find myself wanting to contribute to those who would normally have no hope. The poor, I mean. The impoverished, or those lacking adequate access to medical facilities and doctors.”

“They’re not without hope,” Seokjin said, feeling almost as if he had to defend the people of the neighborhood. “It’s there, it’s just harder for them to find. That’s what our job is.”

Suddenly, Victoria said, “And that’s what I want.”

“To help the people here, of all the possible options you have?”

If she wanted to do charity work, and it essentially was going to be that, she could have picked any underdeveloped nation in desperate need of willing doctors, or even the rural areas of her own China. So why his clinic in the less than reputable part of Seoul?

“My husband knows Yunho,” Victoria said, and Seokjin hadn’t been aware of that. “They’re very good friends, and have been for years now. Yunho is the only doctor who listened to my husband when he insisted something was wrong with him, and that he wasn’t just simply depressed. Yunho diagnosed him with Lyme Disease when no other doctor could find that solution, and got him back on his feet and well again within ten weeks.”

Seokjin chuckled, “Yunho is the most determined doctor I’ve ever met. He sees every patient like a puzzle to be solved, and he’s never given up on one, no matter how long it took.”

Victoria pressed on, “So when Yunho mentioned that this clinic was always in need of help, any kind of help, I wanted to return the debt that our family owes to Yunho. I may not be able to do any complex surgery while here, but I can still catch and diagnose potentially fatal diseases early enough to refer patients for further treatment. I can still fulfill all the requirements of a general practitioner, and you can’t stand there and tell me you couldn’t use the extra help on your busier days.”

Seokjin started at her. “We could use the help on our slowest days. We’re the only clinic in the area, and there is no hospital within a decent travel time. If we weren’t here, our patients would have to go much further for even the simplest medical care, and most of them either can’t make the journey, or can’t afford it.”

“So we’re integral?”

Seokjin nodded. “We’re indispensable, and it’s why I will give every bit of me to keep this place open and going for as long as I can. Without this place, we’re leaving this community without a way to stay healthy, and I won’t do that to the adults, let alone the children.”

Victoria strolled to the center of the room, giving it a last look over. “I want the accolades, Seokjin. Don’t get me wrong. I want to rewrite medical procedures and go down in history for something significant. But the older I get, the more important I find simply helping people. The more my career progresses, the more I want to be a part of the greater good.”

“Even if it means treating broken bones and delivering babies?”

“I like babies,” Victoria said.

“Careful,” Seokjin laughed. “If you treat the moms gently, help them through it, and safely deliver their babies, they’ll start naming them after you. Trust me. I know.”

Victoria padded back to his side. “I am fully content and happy with the idea that for the next several months, I will get to see everything from cuts that need stitches, to tonsils that need to be taken out. If you’ll have me, I want a place here.”

It was humbling, how someone like Victoria wanted to contribute, and Seokjin was honored.

“You can stay here for as long as you want,” Seokjin promised her. But then he had to add with some trepidation, “You know there’s a … crime issue in the area, correct?”

Victoria told him, “I grew up in Quingdao. That is, if you’re not familiar, a port city where tourists like to frequent. It’s on the Yellow Sea. I grew up in … comfort. It was luxury, even. But after standard school, when I went to get my medical degree, I was exposed to something much different. Ninety percent of China is still rural, Seokjin. And of that almost all of it is poor. And you know as well as I do that poverty often breeds violence due to a lack of resources, education and opportunity.”

“I wish that were different.”

Together the two of them left the operating room and headed towards Seokjin’s tiny office for the last of the paperwork.

“I’ve been exposed to my fair share of rough areas,” she assured him. “I can handle my own, I’m confident.”

Seokjin held his door open for her. “Infinite runs this area. They’re brute thugs at times, but if you stay inline, they don’t bother you. We make our … protection payments, and keep our noses clean, and we get to keep operating without any hitches on their end. Even Infinite, for all their issues, recognize that what we do for the community is something good--something needed.”

Victoria sat down on the only spare chair other than at Seokjin’s desk. “I can deal with it, I promise you. It’s not a problem.”

“Then,” Seokjin said, rounding to his side of the desk. “Everyone’s favorite: paperwork.”

It took another half hour to finish up, but afterwards they had a celebratory drink.

Victoria finished hers in impressive time and said, “You know, the hospital I came from just refurbished its entire neurology department. They put the old equipment into storage and just forgot about it, to the best of my knowledge. If I request it, considering how much I contribute to that hospital, and the good press it would garner them, I don’t see why I couldn’t have it all shipped over by the time I’m set to leave.

Seokjin’s heart stuttered. “What?” That kind of acquisition would be … impossibly beneficial.

Victoria told him, “You’d need another neurologist to work it all properly, but if you had all the equipment, you could snag one right out of his or her residency, if you promised them a research grant or something else as lucrative. Maybe you wouldn’t even have to offer them anything. There are a lot of doctors who would be attracted to this clinic and what it does for the community--better doctors than the ones who want to buy their penthouses and accept awards.”

Mind spinning a little, Seokjin had to say honestly, “I don’t know if we have the space for any of that.” He knew they didn’t. And the sheer electricity it would cost to get it all going … it wasn’t feasible.

“Then it seems you need a bigger building.”

Seokjin dreamed of a bigger space. He dreamed of each of the doctors having their own offices and consulting rooms, and more than one operating room. He dreamed of half a dozen examination rooms, a research area, more than one waiting room, more than basic amenities, and not a single nurses station that the girls had to rotate through. The same could be said for the receptionist area.

In a perfect world, they could move into a building and have a budget that allowed them to hire even more doctors, take on a bigger nursing staff, and expand their hours.

And maybe, in the very distant future, they could keep a doctor or two on staff over night for midnight emergencies.

“If only,” Seokjin said. “We’re struggling to stay open as it is. We’re currently looking for outside funding more than we already have. We need a new patron or two. We need a benefactor, government assistance, and any and all donations that are possible.”

“And how much progress are you making with that?”

From the nearby drawer of his desk, Seokjin retrieved the invitation to the hospital gala he’d accepted from Kibum. He handed it over to Victoria. “In two days I’m going to make an appearance there on behalf of a friend. I’m going to attempt to talk my way to a donation pool of some kind, or at the very least get eyes turned towards the clinic. Who knows if I’ll be successful in the least bit, but I have to try. There are going to be a lot of people with deep pockets at the gala. Maybe they’ll be willing to lighten those pockets just a little for a good cause.”

Victoria made a face at him. “Is that how you’re going to sell it? A good cause?”

Seokjin frowned. “People like charity.”

“People like charity?” Victoria repeated. Then she corrected, “No, people like praise. They like being patted on the back. They like being seen as important. They don’t like charity, they just like the recognition that comes with it. So selling it as charity is not the way to go, especially with people who pat themselves on the back all the time.”

Head cocked, Seokjin asked, “Then what would you suggest my selling point be?”

Without missing a beat, Victoria said, “You tell them what a significant tax write-off they can get.”

“Huh?”

“Charity is tax deductible,” Victoria said, “and significantly so if you donate enough. The rich love being stingy, Seokjin. It doesn’t make sense, but it’s the truth. So if you sell their donations as something tax deductible, along with the praise they’re going to get for being charitable, and they might be more willing to write you a check.”

Seokjin openly admitted, “I had no idea you were so cunning, Doctor Song.”

“Bah,” Victoria nearly barked out. “I’m just more used to dealing with the bull involved in this sort of thing.”

“Any other tips?” Seokjin took a pad of paper from nearby and put it in front of him. “I feel like I should be taking notes.”

She slid him a pen. “When you go, make sure to mention of how multinational and multicultural this clinic is. Rich people love to brag. They especially love to brag to their foreign friends. While I have no doubt a lot of the people attending this gala will have ties to America and Japan, I’d expect a large number of them to also have business dealings in China.”

“We’re multinational here?”

“You are now,” Victoria laughed. “As long as I’m here. Use my Chinese heritage to your benefit. Make sure you tell all those potential contributors that you’ve got a staff representing more than just Korea. That’s more bragging rights. But you’re going to have to come off as a little pathetic for all of this to work.”

Seokjin said flatly, “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”

Victoria, Seokjin was pleased to see, was already proving that she was incredibly valuable. He’d known she would be from the start, but it seemed she had a unique perspective on things, new ideas, and an energy that seemed to have been slowly leeched out of Seokjin over the stress filled months.

She questioned, “You’re getting at least some funding from the government?”

Seokjin gave a quick nod. “That’s primarily what’s sustaining us. But we need more.”

Confidently, Victoria said, “We can get more.”

“I like your enthusiasm,” Seokjin said, giving her a look, “but I don’t know how realistic that is.”

Fierce determination set across her face. “We can get more funding. Because if I’m going to work here, Seokjin, I’m going to see this place thrive. Not getting more funding isn’t an option. I’m going to make it happen. Mark my words.”

Victoria was a little scary, too. But in a good way, it seemed.

Seokjin leaned back in his chair, hearing it creak a little. “Now all I have to do is find a date in two days.”

“I take it there’s no significant other to fill that role?”

Immediately Seokjin thought of Namjoon.

And not for the first time he wondered if he’d overreacted. His stance hadn’t changed, not even slightly. He didn’t want to be coddled, he didn’t need to be protected, and if Namjoon attempted to treat him like he was inferior in any way, they wouldn’t work out. But he’d been worked up when he’d confronted Namjoon about how he felt. And before they could have a long, thorough discussion, he’d left.

So part of the blame was certainly on him.

Not to mention Seokjin was agonizing over how much he did like Namjoon. The feelings had kind of snuck up on him, especially the moment he’d realized maybe it wouldn’t work out between them. He wanted things to work. He wanted Namjoon to hold his hand and pay attention to him. He wanted them to try to being a couple.

“There’s someone I like,” Seokjin admitted to Victoria.

“But?”

“We’re still working things out,” Seokjin said. Hopefully.

He wasn’t certain how long he was supposed to wait, either, before attempting to contact Namjoon. Was he supposed to do it at all? He was the one to tell Namjoon to take time and think about them.

Not to mention he didn’t have a number to contact Namjoon at. No doubt Namjoon had already gotten Seokjin’s number from Jungkook, but Seokjin himself hadn’t thought to do the same. He’d barely thought Namjoon would return any feelings.

No matter what, two days wasn’t enough time to get a date for the gala and he knew it. He’d put the matter off for too long, and short of asking one of his nurses or receptionists, which would be awkward, it looked like he was going to end up going alone.

“I’ll figure something out,” Seokjin said. He didn’t want to burden her unnecessarily.

He didn’t expect anything more from Victoria, so he was surprised when she said, “If you don’t have a date by the event, tell me. I’d be happy to go with you. After all, I do have experience in wringing money from fat cats who could do with a little charity.”

Seokjin felt his eyes go wide. “You’d go with me? With such short notice? Would your husband be okay with that?”

Victoria insisted, “I chose to come to Korea to be near my husband while he works. But that doesn’t mean, other than Yunho and a few others, that I know many people here. My nights aren’t filled with going out with friends.”

“Until now,” Seokjin said very quickly. “Yunho, Jonghyung, and I are taking you out. We’re going to introduce you to plenty of people.”

Victoria gave a grateful nod. “But my point is, my nights aren’t all booked up.”

“What about your husband?” Seokjin asked again. “I wouldn’t want to offend him by asking you to be my date.”

“Changmin,” she said in a convincing way, “is working fifteen hour shifts right now while he tries to acclimate himself. He comes home at night and usually goes to bed within a few minutes, and that’s if I can manage to get him to eat anything first. He’d be happy to see me be able to go out and do things without him until he has more free time. And he’s only heard good things about you from Yunho.”

He certainly wasn’t fishing for compliments, but he couldn’t help asking, “Yunho said good things about me?”

“About your character,” Victoria clarified. “So keep me up to date. Let me know if I need to break out my good dress.”

Seokjin told her with a smile, “Trust me, the position of date is as good as yours.”

Because there was some luck in the world, Victoria’s first full day at the clinic, which admittedly was a Thursday and Thursdays were never overly busy, went smoothly and without problem.

Like Seokjin had warned, Victoria was relegated more to the position of a general practitioner than a specialist surgeon, but never once did she seem disinterested in the people she helped. In fact, she flew through them competently faster than Seokjin or the other doctors had possibly imagined, working steadily and in a friendly manner to help clear out their waiting room in record time.

And the next day, Friday, which was the true stress test as the weekend began and their patients doubled, Victoria seemed just as flawless.

As Victoria expertly popped a dislocated shoulder back into place on a young boy who’d injured himself during a friendly baseball game with his friends, and having first calmed him down enough to stop crying and fidgeting, Jonghyun declared, “If she wasn’t a taken woman, I’d propose marriage right now.”

Nearby, Yunho pointed out, “Changmin would beat you up if you even tried it.”

Uncertain, Seokjin asked, “He’s pretty big then? Changmin?”

Yunho held a measuring hand above his own height. “Tall. And he’s got a baby face, too. It lulls people into thinking he’s this quiet, unobtrusive guy. And yeah, for the most part he is. But he had to fight hard to convince Victoria to even give him a first date. He’s not giving her up for anything.”

Jonghyun gave a grunt of disappointment.

Seokjin pointed out, “Are you forgetting about your boyfriend?”

Jonghyun wandered off, throwing over his shoulder, “I said I’d marry her. Not anything else.”

“I’ll be sure to let Kibum know that,” Seokjin said after him. “And I won’t be surprised when I have to treat you for a concussion.”

“We just need more female doctors around here,” Yunho said decisively. “We can be as gentle and sincere as possible, but we both know there’s just something very calming about women when they’re comforting someone. Our nurses are great, but they’re not the ones treating our patients. Our next hire needs to be female. After Hongbin, of course.”

The ratio was off, anyway. Seokjin absolutely wanted to have a workplace that was skewed evenly between the genders, but previous he’d merely been determined to fill positions. He did think now, however, they could be a little more selective.

“Agreed,” Seokjin said, then he was distracted by the vibrating in his pocket.

Yunho wandered off as Seokjin stared down at the number illuminated up at him. It was a private number, or one blocked, and he had no idea who it could be. He couldn’t even see the numbers of the person calling him.

Dread filled his stomach that it could be someone from Infinite.

But then the phone stopped ringing, and instead a text message came through.

It was a simple command, with no pretense, ordering him to open the backdoor to the clinic quickly. There was no name attached, so it seemed like a bad idea.

But then a second text message arrived, and with one single word:

Emergency.

The doctor in Seokjin was overriding any kind of common sense he might have felt in that moment, and he moved directly to the back of the clinic. There was no one around, thankfully. It was nearing the noon hour, and that meant a round of lunch breaks that would have the floor cleared for a while.

The second Seokjin pushed open the emergency back door he was greeted with the sight of a worried Suga. But more startling than him was the flushed, clearly unwell J-Hope who was leaning against him. J-Hope wasn’t a drastically bigger size that Suga, even if Suga seemed tiny and compact at times, but J-Hope’s full weight was threatening to take the both of them down.

“What happened?” Seokjin asked, reaching for J-Hope immediately and helping Suga bring him inside. A quick look down the hall showed that it was clear, so Seokjin and Suga maneuvered J-Hope into a nearby examination room.

Deliriously, and through half lidded eyes, J-Hope’s gaze followed him as Seokjin puttered around the room, drawing out the necessary medical equipment.

Once more, Seokjin demanded, “What the hell happened to him?”

All kinds of scenarios were running through his mind. Namjoon had absolutely been clear when he’d said that even though Bangtan was working towards having a neighborhood that was safe and family friendly, that Bangtan also did terrible things to try and achieve that.

That meant getting into the kind of trouble that got people hurt.

And though Seokjin wasn’t currently sure what was wrong with J-Hope, it was something serious.

Seokjin pressed the thermometer into J-Hope’s ear as Suga said, almost falling over himself in his rush, “I’m really sorry to come here. I know it puts you in danger. I know Rap Mon said to pull back and not shadow you, and to not put you in danger. But I didn’t know where else to go. I needed someone I trusted.”

Pulling back the thermometer and looking at the flashing numbers, Seokjin swore. J-Hope’s temperature was far too high.

“Suga?”

Seokjin reached across the table to grab his upper arm. “I need you to calm down and breathe. Get yourself together. Then tell me what’s going on.”

Suga gave a shaky nod, was quiet for a second, and then said, “I think he’s got an infection.” He reached for J-Hope’s dangling hand and brought it up for Seokjin to see. There was a bandage wrapped around his palm, and when Seokjin removed it he could see without a second’s hesitation that the skin was absolutely infected. And it was bad.

“That’s what it looks like,” Seokjin said evenly, not wanting to alarm Suga over the severity of the infection. “How did he get the wound?”

He had to clean it, and immediately, but J-Hope also most certainly needed antibiotics.

“A couple days ago?” Suga reasoned, not seeming entirety sure. “He didn’t say anything at the time, but I think he hurt himself when we were jumping fences a few days ago. He stumbled when he landed, which almost never happens, and he was slow getting up. He could have hurt himself then. But he didn’t say anything.”

From the examination table, J-Hope moaned out, “I’m hot.”

Ignoring the heat radiating from his forehead, Seokjin put his hand on the skin and leaned down to tell him gently, “You’re a little sick, that’s true, but you’re also at my clinic. Do you know who I am?”

After a moment, J-Hope mumbled, “It’s cool.”

J-Hope was pushing up into his hand as Seokjin asked again, “Do you know who I am, J-Hope?”

J-Hope swallowed heavily, seemed to have a moment of clarity, and then said, “Rap Mon’s doctor.”

“I’m Doctor Kim,” Seokjin said. “You can call me Seokjin, or even Jin if that makes you feel better. I need to clean your wound before we can do anything else. And it isn’t going to feel good. I can’t give you any painkillers until we finish and get some antibiotics into you. So you have to be strong for me and hold on for just a little longer.”

“Is he going to be okay?” Suga asked.

Instead of answering that question, Seokjin asked him. “How long ago did you find him? Do you have any idea how long he’s been like this?”

Suga shook his head. “V and J-Hope live together, but V’s been out of Seoul for a couple of days, since before I think he got hurt. And I didn’t see J-Hope yesterday. But I found him a couple hours ago. I tried to help him on my own. I gave him some Tylenol and cold compresses, but when I knew he was really bad, I brought him here because I didn’t know what else to do.”

With gloves on and cleaning supplies out, Seokjin took J-Hope’s hand in his own and told Suga, “You did the right thing. This is a severe infection. He needs something a little heavier than Tylenol.”

Suga seemed to steel himself despite the worry, and asked, “Oh, god, is he going to get tetanus?”

J-Hope arched in pain as Seokjin applied the first round of antiseptic to his inflamed skin. Seokjin actually knew first hand how painful the cleaning was, so he worked as quickly and effectively as he could.

“Suga,” Seokjin said sharply, then forced himself to be less severe. “I need you to very carefully leave this room and slip out the back of the clinic. Crack the door behind you so it doesn’t shut all the way, and don’t ever tell anyone that the door does that. Then I want you to call Namjoon … Rap Mon, whatever. You call him and tell him that J-Hope is hurt. I’m going to treat him, but he can’t stay here overnight, and he needs to be watched carefully.”

There was uncertainty in Suga’s eyes. “But he’s so bad off. He can’t stay here in the clinic?”

Seokjin gave a decidedly firm shake to his head. “We don’t have a recovery room, and we hardly ever see patients that need something major done to require it. There’s no place for him here, and if he’s discovered …”

As it was, Seokjin was going to need a nurse. He was going to have to trust one of them.

“Okay,” Suga said, reaching for J-Hope’s good hand. “I’m going to be right back, J-Hope. You know you’re with the best doctor in the world.”

J-Hope blinked sluggishly, still sweating profusely.

“Suga,” Seokjin said before he could exit the room. “I don’t want the whole of Bangtan in my clinic. You’ll draw too much attention. Do you understand?”

Hand on the door handle, Suga nodded. “You just take care of J-Hope, okay?”

He disappeared through the door and Seokjin finished cleaning J-Hope’s wound.

There were two nurses on staff at the moment, with Lizzy out to lunch and Sojin already home for the day. And given the choice between Raina and Nana, the choice was easy. Or as easy as it could be. Nana was the sweeter of the two of them, the most motherly and friendly. But Raina was, next to Yoona, Seokjin’s longest standing employee. Raina had been on the staff even before Jonghyun and Yunho. It had to be her.

“So who’s dying?” Raina asked with a giggle as she followed Seokjin back to the examination room a few minutes later. “You certainly sounded like someone would if I didn’t come with you.”

He could tell the second she spotted J-Hope laying still in the room, and he herded her more fully in the room when she froze.

“Raina,” he said, handing her two vials of blood he’d drawn from J-Hope. “I need these to go out as soon possible. Today.” She accepted the vials a bit awkwardly, and he understood. The clinic didn’t send blood out for analysis very often, and they weren’t equipped to do it themselves. That was one more thing for the wish list.

“Okay,” she said, but her eyes were still glued to J-Hope. And at a whisper, she asked, “Is he going to be okay? Who is he?”

Seokjin covered her hands with his own. “Raina, I need you to promise me that you won’t tell anyone about him. Don’t look at his face, and if you already have, forget it.” It was unlikely that she’d know who he was, or his connection to Bangtan, but she could be in danger if there was any kind of association made. “I need your word.”

Raina startled a little, then said quickly, “You don’t have to ask that of me. I would never … I …” She cleared and held the vials of blood more securely. “You have my word.”

He lifted his hands from hers. “Thank you, Raina. I can’t explain right now, but I will be able to one day. I promise you that explanation then.”

“You don’t have to,” she said simply, and that was why he’d picked her and trusted her. That right there.

“I’ll run these out immediately,” she said.

“Before that,” Seokjin cut in, “I need you to bring me penicillin G. I’m going to set up an IV. Also bring Penicillin V. He’ll need to take some home with him, and hopefully by then he’ll be awake enough to not need the IV form of it.” And then he was going to cross his fingers that J-Hope hadn’t picked up anything tricky. If the fever was being caused by anything more than a simple bacterial infection, things would certainly be a lot more challenging.

“Ten minutes,” Raina promised, and Seokjin let her leave the room after that.

Seokjin made his way quickly back to J-Hope’s side a second later, thoroughly checking for a medical alert bracelet or necklace of any kind. But thankfully there was nothing to even begin to indicate that J-Hope was allergic to penicillin. Which was a godsend.

Raina returned and the both of them got J-Hope hooked up to an IV that was feeding him medication by the time Suga was back.

Seokjin told Suga, who was eyeing Raina nervously, “Don’t worry about her. I’d trust her with my life, and so should you.”

Suga gave her a brief nod and then told Seokjin. “I’ve … made a phone call. They’ll be here in half an hour for the pickup. He’ll be ready then?” Suga looked towards J-Hope. “It’ll be safe to move him?”

Straightening up, Seokjin physically moved Suga to J-Hope’s side and sat him down on the nearby chair. Then he told the shorter male, “I’m J-Hope’s doctor. I take that designation very seriously. So believe me when I say I wouldn’t tell you I think his prognosis is good, if I didn’t believe that.”

Neither was he lying. J-Hope’s temperature was much too high, but a round of antibiotics, saline drip, and time would most likely take care of that. Seokjin had properly stitched up the wound on J-Hope’s hand, and he was now resting comfortably with his sedative.

“I believe you,” Suga said, even if Seokjin didn’t quite believe him. But Seokjin didn’t fault him, either. Namjoon, and even Jimin, had made it clear that Bangtan were family. They weren’t just some street gang. They were the most important people in the world to each other.

And now Jungkook was one of them. If it had been Jungkook lying on that table, Suga would have been just as worried, and just as protective. The thought was terrifying, of course. But there was some comfort in there, too.

“Raina,” Seokjin said, with his mind made up. “I need you to do one more thing for me.”

When Suga’s phone vibrated not too long after that, Seokjin was ready to move J-Hope. The IV lines had been detached, Raina was running interference in the hallway, and then Seokjin and Suga were lifting a still sedated J-Hope.

They made it out into the back alley in record time, and there was Namjoon, dressed like there was an oncoming blizzard, with the car running and the backdoor already open.

There was no time for awkwardness as J-Hope was situated in the car, and Suga climbed in after him.

“Thank you,” Namjoon said softly as he hurried toward the driver’s door.

But Seokjin was faster as he was already pulling open the front passenger door.

Namjoon frown at him. “What are you doing?”

“I suspect J-Hope’s severe fever is a case of bacterial infection. If that’s the case, the antibiotics I’m prescribing him should do their job. But I won’t know for sure for a while. I need to monitor him. I can’t do that at the clinic without it being too dangerous, so I’ll settle for doing it wherever you’re taking him.”

Uncertain, Namjoon asked, “You’re coming with?”

“He’s my patient,” Seokjin said firmly. “I need to make sure he’d okay, and there’s a new doctor helping out at the clinic. I can afford to be away for a couple of hours—we’ll call it an extended lunch. At the very least I have to make sure you get him set up properly wherever he’s going to rest, and I need to make sure you understand the warning sings to look for.” Seokjin lifted the hefty sized bag he’d asked Raina to pack for him. “I’m all ready to go.”

Namjoon just looked confused.

“Or,” Seokjin demanded, “would you rather we just stand out here, you looking ridiculous in your coat, and me too obvious in mine? Would you prefer the wrong person stroll by and see us?”

“Get in,” Namjoon said.

Seokjin was already moving.