Hello dear readers! It's been a while, I'm sorry :( If you're coming back to this fic after some time, I strongly recommend you re-read the whole thing (sorrryy) because changes have been made to each of the previous chapters, and some parts of this chapter will not make sense if you haven't read the improved chapters. I hope you enjoy remastered BSF <3

Jimin feels faint, his eyes watering as he stands face to face with one of his closest friends. 

‘Hyung, y-you’re ‘Princess’?’ he asks, whisper soft as he looks into Jin’s sad eyes. 

‘Chim, I’m so sorry you had to find out like this,’ Jin says just as softly, stumbling forward slightly, his hands making an aborted reaching motion, and Jimin looks away, staring down at the floor as his head spins. 

He hears nothing from the others at his side, and can only feel Hoseok and Yoongi’s hands gripping his arms, trying to keep him balanced. It helps minutely, but with the shock of the man standing in front of him, Jimin still feels something bordering on numbness.

He tries to lift his head back up to meet Jin’s eyes again, possibly to hear him out, but when he looks up, he doesn’t look at his face right away, and instead, his gaze drifts to the jut in Seokjin’s jacket, the smallest glint of a steel handle uncovered and visible by the side of the jacket. It’s a gun, Seokjin is carrying a gun.

Jimin feels a sharp pain in his head, and acute horror shocks his system and making his vision blur with shocked tears. He looks up at Seokjin quickly, and what he sees makes the horror worse. What about the image of Seokjin’s shadowed face above his own staring down into his eyes makes Jimin scared, he doesn’t know, but he knows that he has to get away now.

He pulls roughly away from the arms on his biceps, and stumbles back, his disoriented state making it difficult to balance. He sees the others recoil in shock, and feels an arm grip his bicep again, trying to steady him, but it only makes him feel worse; it makes him feel trapped, the walls of the club suddenly too close. His heart starts beating quickly, and he looks up into Hoseok’s eyes. He sees concern in his gaze, but it doesn’t comfort him, he just needs to get away. 

He thinks he hears the others calling his name, but his ears ring with the oppressive music of the club and he feels his vision tunnel until he can barely make out what is in front of him. He tries to pull back again, but he trips over himself, falling backward on to the concrete floor of the club. He feels the arm slip and try to keep him from falling, but it fails, and his head slams back on the floor with a sickening noise Jimin’s ears barely register. The resounding pain in his head is sharp, and he thinks he may be bleeding, as warmth on his neck he hadn’t felt before bleeding into his hair as his ears ring. 

His vision blurs as more tears cloud his eyes and the pain from his fall stabs through his temples, and the last thing he sees before he passes out is Yoongi, reaching out for him with a shattered expression on his pale, shadowed features.

________

His sneakers slam against the pavement with a desperate tempo, his breath coming in quick bursts as he runs down the cracked, glistening sidewalk. He hears another pair of footsteps, just as urgent, to his right, and spares a look at the person running with him.

It’s him. They got away.

The man’s jet black hair is pushed back by the cold wind of the night, revealing delicate looking features holding an expression matching the desperation and fear he feels, and he whips his head back around, facing the direction he’s running in down the street.

He runs for as long as he can, until his legs begin to ache, his muscles burning, and the tears in his eyes blurring his vision and stinging his cheeks until he can’t continue anymore. He hears the man to his right suddenly stop with an aborted noise of shock. His feet skid as he brings himself to an abrupt stop, turning around quickly to see the man being pulled into an alleyway they had just passed, his black hair failing to hide the look of unadulterated fear that crosses his eyes as he grips desperately at the arms holding him around his neck, trying to pry them off as he is dragged backwards, the soles of his shoes skidding gratingly on the asphalt.

He feels his heart beat in his chest, anxiety living in his gut, when he feels a pair of arms grip him around his neck too, and unforgiving and strangling, they pull him over to the other man. Their eyes meet as he is released, palms skidding against hard pavement as he falls to the ground. The other man reaches over, desperately, trying to reach him, his teeth gritted as he yells out something he can’t quite hear.

He reaches out too, but one of the men that grabbed them reaches for him as well, pulling him up into a kneel by his hair,  and dragging his gaze away from the other man to meet his, his eyes shadowed by the dark light of the alley, making his gaze infinitely black and unforgiving. He feels a chill of fear overcome him, and tears come to his eyes as his hair is almost ripped from his head as the man keeps their gazes locked together. 

He is about to yell when the man leans down and whispers in his ear, something the wind keeps  him from hearing, as a shot rings out, and the unmistakable sound of a body hitting the ground sounds out in the empty alleyway.

________

Jimin comes to slowly, the last vestiges of a dream slipping away before he can catch them; it was a bad dream, he knows. He stirs more, turning on his side slightly and cracking his eyes open and trying to swallow away the cotton feeling in his mouth. He doesn’t know where he is, or what time it is; he feels disconnected. The only thing he remembers is something happening at the club.

He sits up from where he is laying in shock, his heartbeat quickening as he recalls what happened in the club earlier, though how long ago it happened, he does not know. He tries to calm himself down, and looks around where he is. He doesn’t immediately recognize it. He sees he is on a bed though, one he does not recognize either, its soft creme color blending in with the rest of the colors of the small room. He sees a chair in the corner by a set of open curtains letting in light. 

The frowns at the sight of the daylight, remember that it had been late night the last he remembered, in the club. He is adjusting himself to be sitting up on the bed, observing the soft red coming in through the curtains, when he hears a soft knock on the wooden door at the far right corner of the room.

He feels slightly panicked at the knock, since he doesn’t know how he got into the room, or who brought him here. He doesn’t answer the knock, and the person opens the door quietly, looking around the side of it. Jimin relaxes when he sees that its Hoseok, a soft smile on his face as he lets himself into the room fully, closing the door behind him softly.

“Hey Chim, how’re you feeling?” He asks, coming to sit down next to him the side of the bed, the soft smile turning into something concerned as his frowns slightly at Jimin in what seems like worry.

Jimin swallows again, the cotton feeling not quite gone from his throat. When he does speak, his voice is raspy. “I’m…alright” he says hesitantly, running a hand through his hair to get it away from his face and looking back up at Hoseok. “What happened, Hyung?” 

Hoseok’s expression falls, and he looks away from Jimin and down at his hands that are crossed on his lap. “You panicked, when you saw Jin, and you fell. You scared the out of us Chim. I-I’m sorry, we didn’t know you’d react like that,” he replies, his eyes sad when they meet Jimin’s again, his face showing the regret he feels.

Jimin feels a few tears prick into his eyes, and he wipes them away quickly. He feels bad for the way he reacted; it just scared him, for reasons he cannot explain or really remember very well, he was terrified. He voices this to Hoseok, who tears up slightly himself, making Jimin very worried since Hoseok has never been one to cry in the time Jimin has known him. 

He is surprised again by Hoseok when he doesn’t reply right away and instead bridges the gap between them on the bed and brings Jimin into a tight hug, rubbing a hand in his hair slowly, mindful of Jimin’s injury. Jimin melts into the hug, the comfort very welcome after the night he had, and he wraps his arms around Hoseok tightly, letting a few tears that had built up roll down his cheeks. They break away after a few seconds, and Hoseok gently wipes away Jimin’s tears, grabbing on to his hands after and holding them tightly.

“There’s someone I want you to talk to, Chim. I know you may not be up to it, but Jin needs to explain some things,” Hoseok says quietly, squeezing Jimin’s hands gently in his larger ones.

Jimin doesn’t react the way he thought he might at hearing Seokjin’s name, and instead deflates, feeling the tension being taken over by resignation, and nodding slowly.

“Yeah, okay. I think I need to,” he replies, looking back up into Hoseok’s eyes. Hoseok offers him a smile, patting the covers where they cover Jimin’s leg.

Hoseok first goes to get Jimin a glass of water and some pain pills for his head, and then they get up together, slowly since Jimin still feels fatigued, Hoseok steadying him with his arm as they make their way out of the room slowly.

The door opens to a large living room space, with large brown leather couches and tall ceiling high windows that let in warm dawn light, easing Jimin’s nerves that had accumulated slowly. Hoseok helps him step down a small step on to a plush rug that makes up most of a sunken in living space. But they down stop there, and instead Hoseok leads him through the living room and to the left side of what Jimin now assumes is actually an apartment, and not a hotel as he had been thinking, and down to where a tall glass sliding door is placed. Jimin sees that the tall windows are placed next to a balcony, and Jimin assumes that is where they are going. 

Hoseok slides the door open for Jimin, gesturing for him to make his way through the door and out on to the balcony. Jimin goes through it, but Hoseok doesn’t follow him, instead offering him a small gentle smile and walking back into the living room, though not closing the balcony door. The gesture makes Jimin calm slightly, and he turns around to face the familiar shape of Seokjin, sitting on one of the balcony chairs. 

Jimin walks closer, but feels peace when he catches sight of the red morning sunlight coming just up over the horizon. Approaching Seokjin, he sees the other man turn around slowly, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of Jimin, and his hands coming forwards from their position on the arms of the chair. 

He looks up into Jimin’s eyes as he walks right up to Seokjin, a small frown pulling at his brow as he can feel the corners of his eyes prick with tears.

Seokjin stands up then, reaching out for Jimin slowly, an offer for comfort, which Jimin takes gratefully, being swept up into a hug by Seokjin. He feels the other’s arms curl around him tightly as he buries his face in Seokjin’s neck.

“Hyung,” he whispers softly, not knowing how to start.

“I’m so sorry Jimin,” Seokjin starts instead, pulling away from the hug slightly to look Jimin in the eyes. “I never wanted it to happen like this, you deserved different, Chim.” Jimin can see Seokjin’s eyes glisten as he continues. “I wanted you to be brought in differently, I wanted to take it slow, I should have done more.”

Jimin feels the sincerity of his words. “It’s okay, Hyung, I-I was just scared, the gun, the club, it didn’t fit with what I thought of you, it was too much,” Jimin goes quiet for a few moments. Seokjin just pulls away fully from Jimin and pulls them down on to one of a few soft looking sofas on the balcony. He keeps his hold on Jimin’s hand, rubbing his thumb over Jimin’s knuckles as he finds his words.

“Is..is there anything I can tell you? Any answers that you need?” Seokjin asks him hesitantly, meeting his eyes once again.

Jimin looks down at their hands between them. “Who are you? What do you do? Why me?”

Seokjin takes the questions in stride, sighing softly as he begins to answer. “We are Bangtan, as you already know, Hoseok told me you know about that. We aren’t a gang, we help people, if it helps, you can think of us as something like vigilantes. We take in people, like Jungkook, young people who are lost or in a bad place, and give them a home and protection.”

“But what about the thing Jungkook had to do, that ‘test’?” Jimin asks after he digests Seokjin’s words, the ‘when he threatened me’ is implied. He feels no better about the situation than before, and feels like Seokjin may be lying about some things, but feels his understanding slowly, bit by bit, become clearer.

“We wanted to see how he could be around those he would need to intimidate. You may not have had a lot of time to really get to know him, but he is anxious; he gets nervous sometimes. He doesn’t like acting like he did to you that night, and at your university but he needs to sometimes, to keep our place in this city. We gave him that test to see how he could act, and he passed, only he picked the wrong person. I’m sorry he threatened you. He would not have actually shot you, but I know that doesn’t really mean anything, does it?” Seokjin pauses to let out a small sigh, and releases Jimin’s hand with a pat, and runs his free hand through his hair, continuing. “We do this to survive. We’re not quite the good guys, but we don’t want to bring pain to anyone, those who don’t deserve it at least. Our organization is multifaceted, we do much more than I have explained, but it is difficult to get into.”

“And Namjoon does that by being a bus driver? And Hoseok’s a tattoo artist for the same reason?” 

“Namjoon uses that as a kind of cover, so he can watch y–that neighborhood I mean, and Hoseok is a passionate artist, and he started that shop out of his own passion, but I’m sure you can see that.” Seokjin explains, looking away from Jimin and into the rising sun as he talks. 

“What about you? How did you get involved?” Jimin asks hesitantly.

Seokjin turns his head to him quickly, his expression almost stricken. Jimin worries he asks the wrong question, but as soon as it came does the expression disappear, as Seokjin schools his features in to a calm expression. Jimin doesn’t ask him about it, but the expression was shocking, what had he being thinking? 

“The previous heads approached me, I was in a bad place at the time, I only had my adopted brother and a secured family fortune. I provide a lot of the resources for the organization, like this apartment.” Seokjin gestures to the area where they are seated. The building is beautiful now that Jimin takes the time to look around.

He is struck with another question soon after he go over Seokjin’s words once again. “What about your adopted brother? I didn’t know you had one, Hyung.”

Seokjin looks away and swallows visibly. The move makes Jimin’s heart sink as he fears the worst.

“He’s not really here anymore, h-he was shot almost a year ago.” Seokjin says softly, the emotion thick and audible in his voice, his eyes glistening with tears.

Jimin immediately feels terrible for asking, reaching over and placing his hand down softly on Seokjin’s shoulder in a soft gesture of comfort, hoping only that he didn’t bring up unpleasant  memories. The image of Seokjin’s faceless brother being shot is enough to make Jimin taste bile as he is reminded of his own reoccurring nightmares, nightmares about being shot.

Seokjin surprises Jimin, though, by not only taking the comfort, but reaching over and hugging JImin tightly, just as Jimin had before when he had first come out to the balcony. The angle is slightly awkward, and Jimin’s head throbs as he moves his head at an angle, but he returns the hug nonetheless, feeling Seokjin’s arms around him tightly again, and comforting himself with that feeling.

Seokjin’s doesn’t say anything for a while after they part, sitting back side by side to look out off the balcony, Jimin breathing in the morning air softly as he takes in Seokjin’s words. 

A few beats pass, and Jimin hears soft footsteps by the door. Turning around slowly, so as not to jostle his head, he sees Hoseok standing a feet away, observing them quietly. When he sees Jimin looking, he offers him another gentle smile, padding over to the sofa. 

“Everything okay out here?” Hoseok asks, placing a hand on their shoulders. 

“Yeah, everything is okay,”Jimin answers simply, glancing over at Seokjin’s profile for confirmation. Seokjin meets his gaze and nods softly, offering a weak smile. 

Jimin doesn’t know what come next, but for right now, he is content to rest with his answers, knowing he is safe here with Seokjin and Hoseok, even is they may not be the people he thought he knew them to be. 

________

Later Jimin finds himself in the living room of Seokjin’s apartment, appreciating the small fire lit in the glass fire place by his spot on one of a few couches, quiet piano music playing softly in the background. Namjoon had said earlier that the music and the fire would help him relax, and Jimin feels grateful for his new friend’s help. The others had soon disappeared to other rooms, or the balcony like where Namjoon had gone, to give Jimin space. He appreciates the thought as he mulls over the conversation he has with Seokjin, which gave him answers but also infinitely more questions, and the last few days as he makes sense of recent events, of the encounter with Jungkook.

As he sits quietly, curled up on the end of the couch, he wonders also where Taehyung is, and what happened to him and Jungkook after the club last night, since he hadn’t seen either since they split off and Jimin went with Yoongi.

Yoongi.

Jimin feels his heart beat faster at just the thought of the blonde, the thought of what they did at the club only the previous night, and the expression he wore as Jimin fell to the club floor in panic. The sheer emotion he had in his eyes makes Jimin’s chest ache at the thought of it. He wonders where he begin to care for Yoongi like this, with their limited interaction and shared kisses, but he wants to see him again to make sure he is okay.

With worry for his friends, old and new, Jimin gets up slowly from his spot alone on the sofa. He decides to make his way to the bedroom he had woken up in, to see if he can find his phone and see if Taehyung is okay.

Walking down the short hallway, he soon reaches the room he had earlier left with Hoseok, and reaches for the handle, pausing before pushing it open slowly.

He walks into the room slowly, making sure not to move his sore head too much, and turns to close the door. When he turns back around, he is met with a sight that makes his heart instantly beat faster.

He sees Yoongi stood in the middle of the room, near a dresser, shirtless with his back facing towards Jimin. He must not have heard Jimin come in with how softly he opened the door. Jimin stands, frozen on the spot, as he watches Yoongi open a drawer and pull out a soft looking hoodie. Jimin goes to speak when Yoongi suddenly turns around, possibly turning to change, and freezes at the sight of Jimin, meeting his eyes in shock. Jimin doesn’t say anything as he quickly darts his eyes away from Yoongi’s soft surprised gaze, and to the scar on Yoongi right-hand side, just under his ribs. 

He lets out a soft gasp, and moves before he can think about it. He closes the gap between them, finding himself quickly stood directly in front of Yoongi, staring into his dark eyes, his hands clenched down by his side, the sound of their breathing the only sound in the quiet room. 

Yoongi’s expression reflects the same expression Jimin had seen before from him when he fell the night before, a stricken emotional vulnerability which makes Jimin’s heart ache in his chest as their gazes stay locked together. Jimin breaks their eye contact after a few seconds, looking down to the scar on Yoongi’s still bare torso, the raised red skin juxtaposed to the pale smoothness of Yoongi’s skin keeping his gaze. 

After a few beats he snaps himself out of his stupor, feeling mortified at how he is acting. He breathes in quickly and steps back, looking Yoongi in the eyes again. He expects to see anger or confusion, but instead he sees still only Yoongi’s soft gaze, an almost sad expression on his pale features.

“I-I’m sorry, Yoongi, I-I don’t know what–“ he cuts himself off, taking a few steps back, planning to just leave as quickly as he can. But before he can take more than a few steps away, Yoongi rushes forward and takes Jimin’s hand in his own.

“Stay, please,” Yoongi whispers in the quiet air between them. Jimin nods, at a loss for words, as he steps a bit closer to Yoongi, his attention on the feeling of Yoongi’s grip on his wrist. His focus falters though, when Yoongi lets his hand go, instead reaching up with his right hand to gently touch Jimin’s jaw.

Simply staring into Jimin’s eyes, not making any moves to touch him in any other way than the gentle hand on his jaw, Yoongi speaks softly. “How are you? Are you feeling okay?” He asks, his deep voice laced with gentle concern, the genuine emotion in his voice shocking Jimin slightly. 

“Y-yeah, I’m okay,” Jimin responds, feeling Yoongi’s finger caress his jaw gently, his dark eyes locked with Jimin’s with his soft blonde hair laying across his brow in a small wave, drawing Jimin’s attention in, making him feel like he could be lost in Yoongi’s eyes.

Yoongi his lips quickly, drawing Jimin’s attention to his lips, reminding Jimin acutely of their last meeting, of the kisses and desperate contact they had in the club. “Do you regret it?” Yoongi asks suddenly, drawing Jimin’s attention back. 

“What?” Jimin asks in his confusion.

“What happened at the club, do you regret it?” Yoongi clarifies, his expression less soft than it had been before.

Jimin thinks it over, and he doesn’t think he regrets it. Yoongi draws him in, in ways he can’t explain, and though it was fast, and very sudden, Jimin finds he really doesn’t wholly regret it. Yoongi seems to take his silence for a few moments as agreement, so he withdraws his hand from Jimin’s jaw, swallowing thickly as he takes a step back from Jimin. His movement brings Jimin to the realization, and he quickly speaks up.

‘Yoongi, no, I don’t regret it,” he says, and he hears a hint of desperation creep it’s way into his tone, surprising himself.

Yoongi’s eyes snap back up to his, his mouth dropping open slightly, as he steps back up to Jimin. He doesn’t speak, but Jimin can see he is affected by Jimin’s words. It’s then that Jimin realizes that Yoongi is still shirtless, and he feels his cheeks warm at their closeness.

Yoongi must notice this because he smiles slightly, a beautiful expression to Jimin’s eyes, and pulls on the hoodie he had still clutched tightly in his left hand.

“Come on,” Yoongi says suddenly after he gets the hoodie on, “I know you’re probably hungry, let’s go eat? We can talk about this–” Yoongi gestures between them, “– when you’re feeling better.”

Jimin agrees, nodding snd smiling back a small smile, and follows Yoongi as he leaves the room. He feels like his head is still stuffed with cotton though, the conversation with Seokjin having affected him a lot, but now his silted talk with Yoongi on top makes Jimin feel slightly overwhelmed. Yoongi must have noticed that. The thought makes Jimin happy in a small way; Yoongi giving consideration to his feeling has him also feeling grateful as well. 

Walking with Yoongi, his mind also drifts to the scar he saw, and how he had reacted, without even realizing, to the sight of it. He still feels embarrassed, he knows that he wouldn’t like others to stare at his scars, but Yoongi hadn’t seemed, maybe sad, possibly for the origin of the scar, but definitely not angry. 

Hoping that some downtime with help him sort his thoughts out more, he ignores the strange encounter and thinks of what he needs to do next.