Upon their return, the Citadel was as busy as ever. Namjoon must’ve asked him to do twenty different things all over the complex before Jimin got a chance to make his way down to the kitchens and sneak something to tide him over until dinner, having grown slowly more hungry and consequently, more grumpy.

The long halls through the main building grew increasingly more twisted and complicated, though Jimin traveled them with familiarity and ease. Once the hallway opened up into the ever present warmth of the dozens of ovens, he was able to get his hands on an unattended bowl of grapes. Jimin popped a couple into his mouth, then turned around straight into Taehyung.

“What are you doing here?” Jimin questioned, pulling his bowl ever so slightly out of Tae’s reach, not feeling in the mood for sharing. Taehyung, who hadn’t previously noticed the grapes, now steps closer, wings stretching out from behind him and surrounding Jimin, cornering him.

“I work here on Tuesdays,” Taehyung said, attempting to reach the bowl without being noticed. “Or have you forgotten all about me already, what with your special missions from Namjoon himself?” He pouted playfully, but it’s enough to make Jimin a little guilty, distracting him from protecting his food.

Taehyung took advantage of this to grab the bowl from his hands, causing Jimin to screech in anger and chase him across the kitchen, resulting in several broken dishes, disgruntled workers, and a few burnt feathers (Taehyung got a little too close to an oven or two. Jimin may have pushed him, though he swears he didn’t.)

The two joked and laughed all the way back to their room, with only minimal whining from Tae about his precious feathers. Jimin offered to help him preen as an apology, and within five minutes they were seated on Jimin’s bed. His fingers gently combed through Taehyung’s rich brown feathers, smoothing the barbs together one by one, discussing whatever new gossip Taehyung had heard.

“So what exactly happened on that mission? Your hand looks pretty bad.”

Jimin looked at the bandage wrapped around his hand. He thought Chanyeol had done a pretty good patch job; it wasn’t even bleeding anymore.

“It was kind of weird. The vamps were all dead by the time we got there, there was this one guy who said that he had killed them.” Jimin responded, his brow furrowing as he recalled that morning. “At first I thought he was a human, but now I’m not so sure. Anyway, my hand got cut when I screwed up with my dagger. I keep telling Jackson that I’m no good with those things-”

“Wait. What do you mean you don’t think he’s a human? How did you even think he was human in the first place? Humans don’t kill vampires.” Taehyung cut him off, turning around on the bed to look at Jimin.

“Yeah, once we left the coven hideout we took him to a warlock. He was pretty injured, but Chanyeol couldn’t figure out how to heal him. The warlock said he was also a warlock, but that didn’t make too much sense to me either...He didn’t look or act like one, you know?” Jimin mused. “He shadowwalked, and he didn’t have any obvious Witch’s Mark. It just doesn’t add up.”

“So where’s this guy now, anyway? Does Namjoon know about him?”

Jimin paused. He hadn’t put too much effort into his mission report-Namjoon had told him not to worry about it, and he hadn’t thought to mention Yoongi in it. The implications of not only going off orders, but failing to inform the Council of unusual events were generally pretty bad.

“I need to go find Namjoon.” Jimin announced. Taehyung suppressed a snicker, and Jimin knew he wasn’t going to live this one down.

It was nearing midnight when Yoongi woke up. A clock ticked softly nearby, and a lamp glowed on the other side of the room. Soft snores emanated from the couch near where he lays.

He sat up, rubbing his eyes and wincing as he stretched and pain radiated from his side. His shirt was gone, and it was cold; that was what had woken him.

Yoongi realized that he didn’t know where he was.

He remembered the hotel, and killing all those vampires and getting the injuries that he now felt so badly. The wings showed up, and he had no choice but to hide. He remembered taking the human they had with them, just in case he needed leverage to escape. He remembered being so confused when the human bled and the color was wrong, and when they did their best to heal him.

He didn’t understand why they tried.

“So you’re finally awake. Good, I have a few questions for you.”

Yoongi jumped in surprise, causing a few vials next to him to clatter to the floor. He looked around for anything he could use to protect himself, anything at all, and had half a mind to grab the vase on the table next to him before the stranger spoke again.

“I’m Hoseok. Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you. I’m sure you’re confused, but I’ll explain everything in a minute. Before that, though, I need you to tell me a few things.”

The man, who Yoongi could now tell was around his age, gestured to a small table with two chairs set next to it. Taking a seat in the closer one, Hoseok waved a hand and a kettle filled itself, settled on the stove, and began to boil. Yoongi’s eyes followed the movement of the kettle, but he didn’t seem surprised by it. Instead, he sat in the chair opposite Hoseok, wincing as whatever was holding his side together pulled and strained.

“Oh. Yeah, you should be careful with that”, Hoseok said. “Even though that’s the best healing job I’ve ever done, magic stitches only work if the person you’re using them on isn’t also magic. Which, in fact, brings me to my first question.”

“Who are you?”

Yoongi shifted almost imperceptibly. No matter how many times he went through this situation, the first time always tripped him up.

He cleared his throat.

Took in a deep breath.

And Yoongi lied.

Namjoon was, of course, in the library. Jimin couldn’t remember a time when Namjoon wasn’t stuck somewhere poring over history books, giant tomes on logic and strategy, or dusty maps of the area surrounding the Citadel, complete with keys marking the spot of every neighboring coven, werewolf den, or warlock haven near.

Today, he was bent over an ancient looking spellbook, his grey and brown mottled wings curved around him almost protectively. Though Jimin tried to get close to him without disturbing his studies, Namjoon’s head shot up once he was a few feet away.

“Jimin.” He smiled warmly, wings folding back and allowing Jimin to see more of his face. His glasses were falling down his nose; he pushed them back into place as he closed the book in front of him with a soft thud.

“What’s wrong?” Namjoon knew it wasn’t usual for Jimin to be out and about this late. The sun had long since disappeared, and Jimin, like most Celestials, chose to rise and rest with the rhythm of the sun. It only made sense, seeing as their eyesight wasn’t suited to the dark like it was to the bright light. Namjoon stayed up anyway-he was quite the night owl.

“I submitted my mission summary today, but there...might’ve been some things that I...omitted.” Jimin shifted nervously. “Not purposefully”, he added hastily, not wanting Namjoon to misunderstand.

Namjoon sighed. Though captains were supposed to document any possible detail about a mission, it wasn’t unusual for things to slip by here and there. As the infantry leader, though, it was his job to deal with those slip ups.

Jimin quickly delved into the story, leaving out the part where he got captured. It felt a little too personal, and maybe even a little embarrassing to admit that he had to be rescued by his own team. Instead, he opted to gloss over it, saying that he had stumbled across Yoongi lying injured. He did mention Chanyeol’s inability to heal him, and how he had to be taken to a warlock instead-though he was quick to add that it wasn’t Chanyeol’s fault. Warlocks were notoriously hard to heal.

Namjoon seemed to take it all in his stride. He jots a few things down on a notebook, then smiles at Jimin and tells him to go back to bed.

“Though there was one thing…” Jimin stops before he leaves. “He didn’t look like a warlock. At all. It wasn’t even until the healer we took him to told us that we knew; it was super confusing. I figured that I would him back here tomorrow, maybe you might understand it better than I do.”

Namjoon nodded, and Jimin, seeming satisfied with the response, left. Once he was sure he could no longer hear Jimin’s footsteps down the hall, he turns and begins to search for a particular book, one not approved for reading by the Council. One that he had read many times before, and one that held the answers he was looking for.

“I see.”

The front legs of Hoseok’s chair hit the floor with a thud. He stood, stretched, then offered a hand to Yoongi, who scrambled to a standing position and shook it firmly.

“They’ll be back tomorrow. I’d let you go, but then they’d know it was me. They’d have my head on a silver platter in seconds.” Hoseok was now standing near the window, gazing out into the cool night. He opened it quietly, allowing a soft breeze to flow into the small apartment. “I don’t think they know, though. You should be fine.”

“If you ever need anything, call me.” Hoseok moved to a heavy looking wooden chest. Must be werewolf made, Yoongi thought. He withdrew a small bunch of papers tied together with a piece of rough burlap, then handed it to Yoongi.

“Write something on one of these, then burn it. I’ll get the message.” Hoseok hesitated. “It’s nice to meet someone else in the trade. There’s not too many out there that you can trust anymore.”

Yoongi nodded, then folded the papers and tucked them into his pocket. The sun was just beginning to rise, alighting the room in a melancholy blue. He took in the peace and quiet, knowing that he had precious few moments like these left before it all began.