It wasn't an uncommon or shocking thing for Jungkook to find a night where Taehyung suddenly came knocking on his door, looking so bloody dark, so teary, so broken, with his plain white shirt that always spotted new fresh sploshes of blood and skinny black slacks, his sylphlike fingers curled loosely around a rare model of gun specially designed to fit his comfort and hand for better shooting. His usual attire when he’s out to perform his mission.

Taehyung would jump into his arms and Jungkook would opened his arms willingly to catch him. He would cry and sobbed so hard and Jungkook would shush him with the most soothing genuine words. Taehyung would curled up between Jungkook’s bent legs o the floor and wounded arms tightly around the younger’s middle, wetting his shirt with his tears, mixed with the blood trailing from his forehead. Jungkook would hugged him tighter and kissed his locks and rubbed his hitching back non-stop till he fell asleep like that with dried tears and blood on his face.

And Jungkook would try his best not to break down right when Taehyung needs him the most.

 

 

Nothingness was what first popped into his head when Jungkook first Taehyung in the training zone, as the great mafia leader instructed him to see the whole new era of the underworld alongside him. Apparently Jungkook had become one of the few people of the underworld who he favors because of the younger’s rare ability and intelligence in medical so he’s kind of allowed to wander around the place without getting a bullet buried in his head.

In the middle of rounded up guys—trainees, Jungkook presumed, stood a thin tall young man, barely his twenties, with slim figure and probably the most beautiful stoic face he had ever seen.

Taehyung’s eyes were dark and deep, so cold that they seemed to pull anything, everyone into the darkness of his own little world. Thin body cladded in black training suit and long locks pinned backwards behind his ears by small pins. His face void of any emotions that he seemed like an android. But behind that stone mask, Jungkook could clearly see the tiniest hint of emotions struggling behind those orbs.

Grimace.

 

 

They first officially met was when Taehyung was shoved into the medical unit, along with a loud ‘Get yourself treated, you ! You’re gonna bleed to death if you don’t deal with that!’ from who Jungkook learnt not long ago as Park Jimin, a specialist in fires and ticking explosions, having an incredible combat skills despite his small body. Taehyung had hissed at the former, who fearlessly stuck his tongue out at him and gestured a hand to Jungkook towards the male, indirectly asking him to give proper medical treatment to the injured one.

“So...what’s this about?” Jungkook awkwardly started a conversation between the stoic man after clearly his throat. Taehyung shrugged his shoulders and hopped onto the operation table, supporting his weight with his hands as he swung his feet back and forth underneath.

“Some kid got a disk thrown at me and Jimin threw tantrum at me because I refuse to get treatment.” He said. “I would have too, if I were him.” Jungkook bluntly clarified, earning a raised eyebrow from the latter. Jungkook cheekily grinned and walked towards him. “Let me see it.”

Taehyung huffed before he dragged the zipper of his suit down to his chest and slide the material down till it reached his biceps. An ugly, red bleeding cut started from his bicep down to his elbow that had Jungkook scrunching up his nose in disapproval. “Now I know why hyung exploded.” Taehyung snorted but lets Jungkook does his work, cleaning his wound in a surprisingly fast speed and not long enough Taehyung found him almost done with the stitches.

All the moment, Jungkook barely catches any emotions asides cold on Taehyung’s face. Not once did he winces nor flinch as he treated him. Jungkook was impressed so much with his tolerance with pain that for a moment he thought the older doesn't have some sort of pain sensors in his body.

“How old are you?” That was the first words that Taehyung started after the whole moment, eyeing Jungkook as he dump the bloody rubber gloves into the bin. Jungkook stared up at him. “17. Why?” Jungkook barely noticed the frown that settle on Taehyung’s strong eyebrows but it lined up as soon as it ceased.

“So young yet already working with the mafias. So original.” Taehyung murmured, casting his eyes towards the glassy door where the field was layout, trainees training their asses off and some of them getting beaten up at the side of the field. Probably personal punishments.

“Thought there’s no limit in the underworld. Even kids as young as two could have already in the verge of mastering in handling knives.” Jungkook says casually, as if it’s not a big deal for him when he was taken away from his parents by the mafia when he’s barely five.

Taehyung had looked at him for a moment, quick, and he jumped off of the table, sliding up the suit and zipped up. He left the section without a word, without a glance but Jungkook could clearly hear the almost audible whisper that Taehyung obviously thought Jungkook couldn't hear.

“Unfair.”

 

 

Jungkook must say he was genuinely surprised when after a few days, he found himself the same cold boy sneaking up into his personal treatment ICU, casually eating huge bars of chocolates on the operation table, still in his training suit.

“What’re you doing here?” He asked, dropping off his knapsack on the floor and proceed to the lying boy. “Training’s boring so I’m hiding from my dad. Tell him and I’ll stick this chocolate in your throat.” It didn't sounded as a threat at all, especially with that innocent stoic face of him on but Jungkook knew better than ignoring the boy’s command. Taehyung’s ability to kill a man with a paper is enough to tell him how dangerous the young man is.

Jungkook sighed. Not long had he been in this unit he had been threaten by the top assassin (chocoholic) in the mafia, great, Jungkook thought. He looked at the man’s shoulders. Now that he’s at it...

Taehyung almost aimed the sharp edge of the hard chocolate to Jungkook’s nape, were his spine run down to, when Jungkook raised his hands in defense, eyes wide. “Woah woah woah, hold up. I’m not trying anything bad, I’m just checking your cut, that’s all!”

Taehyung’s eyes were wide but sharp at the corners, giving the look of a cat’s eyes, staring daggers in the younger’s eyes before he mentally relaxes, but body still tensed. He lets Jungkook pulled down the zipper of his sleeves downwards. Jungkook slowly unravel the patch that spotted huge spot of dried blood and he frowned. Not because of the blood, but because of the barely there skin-deep cut on his biceps.

“Wow. You’re healing fast.” Jungkook commented, checking the cut from different angles to see any more flaws. To say he’s shocked would be an underestimate. He’s more amazed by the fast healing process Taehyung’s body possess.

Taehyung shrugged his shoulders as if it’s no big deal. “Being tortured since birth has lots of good aftermaths.” Jungkook looked up in surprise at the information, Taehyung taking a huge bite of his newly opened bar of chocolate. Taehyung chewed on the sweet stick and a small moan of delight escaped his mouth as he smiled. “Chocolate’s are the best.” He commented.

He looked at the wide-eyed Jungkook and offered the bar. “Want some?”

Jungkook definitely hadn't been expecting this reaction from the other after days of cold treatment. And the smile, definitely not the smile. It somehow brought a spark of life back into his enormous eyes. Jungkook decided he liked it better if Taehyung smiles. It made him looked more alive.

 

 

“Exactly why you always hang out with me?”

Taehyung looked up from the video game he’s playing, chocolate bar in between his bite, eyes meeting Jungkook’s warm ones as he carded his fingers through Taehyung’s now lilac colored locks. He looked like the snow white with that hair and his cold face.

“Why you ask?” He said, fingers moving along the small keyboard in swift motions as he snuggled comfortably in Jungkook’s laps. They were behind the unit building, away from the blood and the sounds of weapons hitting each other, gunshots fired in the air and shouts of fury from the commanders.

“Ask-backer.” Taehyung smiled briefly at the comment and Jungkook smiled against the crown of Taehyung’s locks. “Your dad had been complaining you ditching training sessions and escaping your room every often.”

“Hey, I’m doing this to spend time with you, ungrateful moron.” Taehyung hits the Jungkook’s shoulder blades using the back of his hand and resumed playing. Jungkook was grateful. Really. But he couldn't bear seeing anymore new cuts and bruises, lashes marks on Taehyung’s body every time he comes back into his arms after he was called by his brother, to receive the consequences of his behavior.

Taehyung glanced briefly at his loose sleeve, revealing the metal lash marks on his wrist before he pulled it downwards to hide it. He encircled Jungkook’s arms around him for more of his warmth, eyes still fixed on the video game. Jungkook rested his chin on the other’s locks and paid attention to the game too.

“It’s because you’re the most human-like guy in here besides Jimin.”

Jungkook almost backed away in surprise at the sudden confession but was pulled back as immediate his action was by Taehyung’s grip on his arms, whining for him to stay still and continued hugging him. Taehyung’s hand caressed his arms in soothing manner, desperate, as if begging him not to go away and stay because of his confessions that indirectly says that he’s one of them.

Jungkook didn't know how to respond so he just sits tight, hugging the boy further into his arms, who is now suddenly felt colder and was quivering the slightest bit.

 

 

Often Jungkook would hear Taehyung chanted numbers in his sleeps, especially when he was still crying while wailing about blood, about people’s screams, about how they looked at him with horror and tears as he snatched their lives away in a split.

“4...8...11...13...19...27...53...60...12...18...45...”

Jungkook would kiss his tears away as Taehyung shakily chanted between raged breath, curled fists quivering as they fist at Jungkook’s shirt. Jungkook would hold him down like that on the ground till he doze off, like always.

Those were the numbers of people Taehyung killed at every mission he performed, every soul he took as an assassin sent from his father from a place to another, regardless of what it would inflicted to his son. Not that he cared. The son was already broken since the beginning of everything.

 

 

“God, Tae. You went too far tonight.”

Taehyung rolled his eyes at the comment. Yea I could clearly see that like really? He’s about to bark at the younger male behind him but it turned out to be a sharp hiss when the latter brushed a thumb against the deep cut flesh of his shoulder blade.

“—Jungkook, be gentle, would you??” Taehyung hissed, hands clenching at the metal so tight that his knuckles went white at the barely unbearable pain from the wound. He heard Jungkook clicking his tongue in disapproval at his sass.

“Would you at least for once stop being sassy and listen to me? This is deeper than the ones you usually had before and got poison that I rarely seen and I don’t have time to give you morphine so you gotta bear it, fine?” Jungkook firmly stated, eyebrows deep furrowed and face stoic.

Taehyung felt his blood soaked shirt being ripped in a go and he shut his eyes tight. “Son of ...” He heard Jungkook swore quietly under his breathe. Taehyung wouldn’t blame him. He’s pretty sure his torn flesh is even worse than the zombies in the movies.

“What the did the guy used on you this time?” The wounded male bit his inner bottom lip to suppress the whimper of pain from slipping out of his throat when the bitter cold air hits his exposed wound. Cold sweats trickled down his face and neck and his eyes sting. God it burns...

Rubber cladded fingers clamped his unmarked skin of his arm to keep him still. “Shhh...” Jungkook’s hush almost calmed him, like how the younger always does to him every night to lull him to sleep after he got nightmares of the people he executed. But then his eyes shot opened and a loud animal like scream ripped out of his throat when acidic liquid, one that he had never made contact with, made contact with his wound.

Jungkook gripped on his arm against the operation table to keep him from struggling, his shrill of pain shots arrows to his chest as he watched in despair at the older desperately clutches the metal to the point it almost bent from the strong grip.

“It’s—not—it’s not—wor—k—king—” He barely heard Taehyung breathed out, thick from the unshed tears. Jungkook frowned deeper at the lack of effects and swiftly moved to the metal desk to his right. At the five seconds of the boy’s absence felt like a cold eternity for older as he shook with cold and pain.

Not soon enough he felt Jungkook’s hand on his unharmed shoulder. “This’ll hurt a bit.” Jungkook’s tone was unbelievably composed and flat that actually had Taehyung annoyed.

Taehyung’s eyes were about to rip out of their sockets and his mouth opened wide as silent screams escaped his mouth once again at the sudden sharp pain penetrating his torn flesh. Jungkook leaned down to kiss at his nape, hoping that that’ll work as an distraction from the pain inflicted to his already broken body, even if it’s for a brief moment.

Tears prickled his eyes and Taehyung bit his lip so hard the flesh broke and Jungkook had to give him his finger to bite so he won’t further hurt himself. The solution Jungkook injected to the older worked eventually and Taehyung found himself getting drowsy. Not because of effect, but because of the too much pressure he had from restraining the unbearable pain for too much and too long.

Jungkook felt the teeth putting less pressure on his fingers and he slowly pulls them out of the sleepy male. He hunched over, face hovering the other’s. “You okay now?” He whispered, the now bleeding fingers of his swiping away the damp fringe from Taehyung’s tired eyes.

“Of course not......” Taehyung’s breathe was finally even but the tears were still there. “But I’m feeling numb.”

“Well, you should sleep.” The younger placed a three-seconds long kiss to his temple, who had already dozed off the moment he cursed just now. Jungkook eyed the man, exhausted and broken mentally and physically. Jungkook would have thought Taehyung as an average man a with an average life and average personality, if it weren’t for the scars scarred deep to his fairly fair skin, the deep bleeding ugly cut on his shoulder blades, the marks that reminds the inflicted man who he is and what he is everytime he glanced at them.

Fighting back the angry tears threaten to spill, Jungkook pushed himself up and grabbed a pair of thin rubber gloves and hurriedly sterilized a curly needle.

Why does it has to be him? He thought, grimaced, as he stitched up the cleaned wound carefully, eyes concentrated to not make any mistakes but every once in a while he would reach up to wipe off the tears.

 

 

Taehyung’s eyes slowly opened, blurry images greeted his foggy mind. He felt one of his arm dangling on one side of the operation bed as he laid there motionless on his stomach. There was a numb faint pain coming from his shoulder blade and the cold air of the room hits his exposed upper half.

He cleared his vision as quick as he gotten up, and noticed Jungkook sitting across him with his head propped in his palm against the armchair, one leg crossing another as he dozed off. Taehyung noticed his sleeves patched with dried blood, probably his because he had been treating him just now.

Jungkook’s face was calm and innocent, so tranquil that Taehyung was afraid that he would taint that innocence of his. So afraid not to see those lively eyes again. He brought up a sore arm slowly, wanted to reach out for the younger’s face, wanted to feel the skin under his fingertips to see if this is real, if all of this is real. The fact that Jungkook’s still hear when he’s that thing. That monster.

As if Jungkook could feel his longing eyes on him, his eyes slowly peeled opened and was met with Taehyung’s round emotionless eyes. Taken aback, Taehyung pulled back but Jungkook caught a hold of his wrist quickly, hand squeezing the limp physic gently.

“You okay?” He asked softly, eyes still clouded with the earlier drowsiness but he could still make out the slight nod. Still holding on, Jungkook scooted closer to the operation bed along the chair and smiled at the injured male.

Taehyung didn't reply the smile. He just looked at him with the most insecure eyes Jungkook has ever seen he did. He rubbed his thumb across the back of Taehyung’s hand soothingly, pressing his face on the cold metal as he stared up on Taehyung’s eyes. “What?”

“Why’re you still with...me?” Taehyung breathed out, reluctant. Jungkook’s expression fell slowly.

“I...I kill people. I've taken...taken so many... since I was little that I...I lost count after the 23th.” Taehyung’s face was stoic but his teary eyes betrayed him. “You should’t be here in the first place. You shouldn't have...”

All those images of the bodies, those screaming people running away from him in every direction to save their lives hits him. All of them, not one survivors. Not one escaped his hold. Like how he couldn't escape from his family’s hold on him.

“Then do you want me to leave?” That effectively shuts him off and Taehyung looked at him, a tear slipping out at the corner of his eye. Jungkook’s face was hard but had that soft gentle look that had Taehyung searching for him here and there after their first meeting.

“Your family had expectation. Expectation on you being heir of their assassination clan. You were their most successful skilled talent in the whole three generations of your bloodline and of course they wouldn't let you go easily. So why should I leave this innocent broken soul alone with those monsters?”

Taehyung’s eyes widen and his lips quivered the slightest bit, silent cries escaped his mouth and Jungkook smiled weakly at him, assuring him that everything’s fine. Jungkook kissed his tears away, like always and forever, and Taehyung cried for the umpteenth times already since they first encounter.

 

 

Taehyung still knocks on his door after every night of killing, crying and weeping and Jungkook would always accepted him, lets him cry in his arms, lets him chanted numbers that appears to be different every night. And Jungkook would calm him down, cooed and kisses him to his sleep, lets him curled up in his body and he would rock their bodies back and forth. Every often Taehyung’s cries lasted for hours if he couldn’t take it, he had killed too much, sees too much.

Taehyung may not show it, but he would always broke down every time he’s with Jungkook. Only Jungkook could unravel him, dig in deeper than any other person could and by then Taehyung’s feeling would burst opened.

Taehyung still within his family’s command, still following their orders like the soulless doll they made him of. But Jungkook would still be there for him, always. Until he’s ready. Until Taehyung is ready.