A/N: i actually play myself everytime that i walk into work

THREE

The walk back to his apartment was cold, bright and dangerous. With the frequency of the undead attacks in broad daylight it was unsmart of him to walk the unoccupied roads. Jungkook was unarmed. And yet on he walked.

His apartment somehow seemed duller and plainer than he had left it. Messier, smaller after being in the pristine facilities of the ANGL initiative. He threw himself on to his bed, not bothering to anything about the wounds that he needed to dress and curled up with his legs hanging off the edge so that his sheets stayed relatively clean. Shutting his eyes with the intent to sleep everything away he found that the longer he kept them close, the harder he thought.

Janson’s words rang in his head. A second chance to help his city, this time with no cost to himself. Jungkook could lie to himself all he wanted but he knew that every day he lets drag past him was another day he wasn’t doing something that mattered. But he couldn’t let go of his memories. The brother that he had lost to his work in ANGL.

It was too much to thing about. The possibility of doing something that he loved to do, despite the promise he had made to himself. Eventually his body shut down, swallowing him into an unconsciousness only after he’d forced two sleeping pills down his throat.

When he woke up, nine restless hours later, he felt no better than he when he had shut his eyes. In fact, he felt worse. It was as if sleep had just jumbled his thoughts, made them sticky and his head pound. He stood up and stumbled into his bathroom, throwing up bile only made him realize that he had yet to eat for thirty-six hours but he doubt that there was anything in his kitchen.

 He ran a shower, using more water than he could afford, and put on the same clothes and checked his bank account. He had enough to buy something at the bar before his next fight. He deposited the rest of the money into another account. Jungkook had cut too far to close on tuition costs this year. Was college getting more expensive?

He shoved the phone in his pocket and shut the door behind him and he left, not bothering with the lock. There was nothing worth stealing in his apartment. It was an early winter night, barely five pm and the sun had almost set. When he arrived at the bar, he immediately felt something was off.

It smelled like gore. Rotting. His limbs kicked into overdrive, throwing the doors open and jogging into the bar. It was carnage. The bar was easy picking for the reanimated, a bunch of intoxicated people unable to fight back all crammed into one room. His feet stalled on the blood-soaked floor when he got to the bar. The room was covered in body parts, internal organs, everything to suggest that the reanimated hadn’t left any of their prey to reanimate. But there was Jake the bartender. The lower fourth of his body had been ripped away but there was enough left, enough venom, for him to reanimate.

Jungkook stared at the body. Out of all the people in the room, the reanimated had saved him. He shut his eyes, trying not to remember the affectionate voice of the only one in the bar that appeared to care for him. The free drinks, the urging to get out of the bar, clean up his act.

He’d kept his eyes shut for too long. They flew open the second he heard the hissing. Throwing himself back, Jungkook’s gaze fixed on the Jake contorting body. But he was too late, Jake managed to grip his jeans, yanking him back with a strength that sprawled him backwards on the cement.

Jungkook swore viciously. His hand moving to his boot for the tiny knife that he hadn’t drawn since placing it inside. Unfortunately, it was the boot that Jake had a hold off and he jerked his hand back to avoid getting scratched. Grunting, he placed his hands flat on the cement for support, before jerking his leg, using his free foot to land several crunching kicks to Jake’s face. He had only barely gotten free when Jake reared up for another attack.

His hands moved quickly to his freed boot.

“Duck,” he heard. He didn’t know what propelled him to do so, but he dropped back on his back. The reanimated’s head twisted back unnaturally and launched itself at him. A long knife flew threw the air, sinking into the undead’s face just as it was above Jungkook, followed by a bar stool. Both slammed the reanimated back where it lay crumpled and twitching.

“Come on,” he felt a hand grab him under his arm and u