This chapter takes places beginning from roughly the same timeline as the previous one. It's 3rd person perspective, basically to fill in some of the gaps, answer some questions. I was going to do it in the form of a monologue, like I did with Tae's backstory, but I was thinking about it before bed last night and decided this would be a lot more fun to write. And, hopefully more interesting to read. So... I guess enjoy this kookcentric chapter. I miss him :'(

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The town was loud, bustling with movement, some people walking at a fast pace, others moseying along as though they had all the time in the world. It was a shopping district, so there were no cars, but the smell of gasoline was still lingering in his nostrils. He squinted. The day was too bright, it hurt his eyes, and his ears were protesting from the noise. He didn't like crowded places.

But, he had somewhere to be. Or was it someone? He wasn't sure. He knew that he had to find them, his hyungs, before they could flee. He'd been searching, endlessly searching, the brunt of the activity put on his lone shoulders. He was determined, though- they weren't safe out here. The two normal humans, sure. But his hyungs, the ones that were like him... if their nature was exposed, they would be persecuted. Attacked. It was easily safer in the facility, where they were protected, and could be together. Gwajangnim was worried.

He didn't mind being head of the search. It made him feel trusted, needed. Worthy. It filled his chest with pride, where it would otherwise have been empty.

The crowds of people made it difficult to concentrate, sounds and smells and views combining into sensory overload, and he ducked into an alley, needing to take a moment to collect himself. But, he was reminded of his responsibility, and the possibility of disappointment, should he return empty-handed again. So, he headed back out, this time following the rooftops, keeping low to not be spotted. Not that they would have noticed him, anyway. Humans didn't tend to ever look up. They weren't ones to anticipate the unexpected, having grown up in comfort and safety.

His back straightened as he caught something, just the barest hint of familiarity, mixed in with hundreds of other scent profiles. He turned his head, this way and that, inhaling deeply. He was close by.

Scanning the crowds with his hands shielding his eyes from the sun, Jungkook watched carefully for dark hair as the scent hit him again. It was getting closer.

His gaze fell on Hoseok, and he frowned. His hair was orange, but it was definitely him. Following him with his gaze, Jungkook crept along the rooftops, watching and waiting as the older man weaved through the crowds with purpose, ducking into one or two shops. After a while, the ginger left the shopping area, heading out of the busy streets. The environment grew quieter, morphing slowly to become more residential, but his relief was squashed as his elder stopped, dropping the bags he held. "Jungkook-ah. Come out."

Adrenaline electrified his veins.

For a moment, all was still, Jungkook's eyes firmly fixed on the back of his hyung's head. Hoseok sighed, and turned, lips pursed in that unique frown. Their eyes met, Hoseok's going straight to him, even though he should have been hard to spot. He had always had the best sensory capabilities.

Not speaking, the younger vaulted down from the rooftop, dropping out of sight briefly, then emerging from behind a wall. He came to a halt a few feet from his elder, both just locked in tense eye contact, silent. A tendon flexed in Hoseok's neck. Jungkook's stance widened, slightly. The elder's gaze flickered down to the movement, then back up. He pressed his lips together, and frowned, previously stern expression softening. "Jungkookie. Don't do this."

It was hard, for Jungkook, to keep his voice under control. "Come back with me, Hobi-hyung."

Hoseok's face screwed up at the nickname. "I won't." He said, firmly, but the words were riddled with pain. "But you-... you can come with me, Jungkookie. Away from that place, away from them-" he cut himself off, fists clenching. "Please. Jungkook. JK. Come back with me, where it's safe, for us..."

Jungkook frowned. Didn't Hoseok get it? There was nowhere that was safe for them. Their only choice was to stay at the facility, where they were valued, where they had a purpose, where somebody needed them. How did none of the others understand that? Why did they have to make it so difficult? He was doing this for them- so that Gwajangnim would still accept them, be proud to have them around. They were wanted. Wasn't that what was most important?

He took no joy in it, but he threw the first punch. Hoseok dodged, lithe as usual, and his fist sank into brick with a crunch. Pain shot up his arm as he left blood behind. Reaching out behind him, he grabbed ahold of his elder's sweater, before the other man could dart away, spinning to face him again with a kick. Again, Hoseok dodged, weaving around the blows like a snake. "Jungkookie, please, I don't want to fight you-" his plea was cut off by the uppercut Jungkook delivered to his stomach. He managed to twist a little, at the last second, vaulting in a flip over the younger's head, grip wrapping into the top of Jungkook's shirt. "We don't have to do this!" He cried, words straining with effort as he yanked the younger man up over his head to slam him into the ground. Hoseok may not have been one of the stronger of the experiments, he was strong enough. The brunette coughed, winded, fighting for air as he forced himself to his feet, lunging for his elder yet again.

Finally, Hoseok seemed to give up, mouth set in a grim line as he received and doled out punches and kicks. Both aimed to beat the other into submission- or so Jungkook thought. Slamming his hyung into a wall, he pressed his forearm to his throat. If he was unconscious, he'd be conspicuous, but wouldn't struggle. It hurt to watch, hurt to actually do it, but what choice did he have? Hoseok didn't understand, didn't know what was best, but Jungkook did, he knew he could protect them, didn't he see that? He wished he had the ability to convey these things in a way that the others would understand, so they'd see his side, but he was bad with words.

Hoseok clawed at his arm, desperately, Jungkook's heart breaking further as the baleful expression in his hyung's eyes became predominant. Even if they hated him, he had to protect them. They were all he had.

Jungkook jumped at a gasp from nearby, head whipping round to see a woman scurrying away. It didn't matter that she saw. But, it did matter that, in his shock, his grip had loosened minutely.

Hoseok grabbed the opportunity with both hands, reflexes lightning fast, hands finally succeeding in yanking the younger boy's arm away from his throat. Gripping his forearm firmly, he flung Jungkook as hard as he could. The younger made a small noise of pain as he skidded along the ground, attempting to right himself, but his back slammed horizontally into a lamp post, forcing the breath out of his body in a shuddering gasp. It took a moment for him to be able to sit up again, flashing lights and stars blinding his vision as his blood pounded in his ears. When he managed to snap out of his daze, he looked round, but Hoseok and the bags he'd had were gone.

"Shit." The breathily uttered curse sounded echoey in his own head. Putting his hand out to pick himself up, he yelped. His wrist was broken. He sighed, heavily. At least it would be fine in a few hours. But, for the time being, it was inconvenient.

Finally managing to get to his feet, he held his arm against his body, following the trail Hoseok had left with much difficulty. Every pounding step (he was running) sent shockwaves of pain up his injured limb. Hoseok had vaulted over several fences and through a lot of hedges to try and confuse the trail, doubling, tripling back on himself. Jungkook followed as best he could, but when he path disappeared into the crowds of people in the town centre, he lost it, and couldn't find it again, no matter how long he searched. When he got the call to return, it was night time, and his wrist had completely healed.

A few hours later, having made it to the facility without problem, he was waiting in Gwajangnim's office, stood with his head down. He'd been left in there alone, as he often was, trusted to simply wait in stillness. It made him feel somewhat satisfied, normally, but for now his mind was in turmoil, thinking about his hyung that got away, and the possible repercussions.

"So. I hear you failed, again." The words were like a slap in the face, cutting through the quiet as soon as the door slid open. Jungkook kept his gaze on his feet. "And no closer to finding their location, either."

"I can pin them down- I was close- I... I know it. They were in that area-" he was cut off by a firm strike of her cold palm across his cheek. He dropped his gaze again.

Gwajangnim sat down at her desk, with a short sigh. "You've let me down, again. I won't keep giving you endless chances to redeem yourself." She paused, and he dared look up. "Am I not providing for you? For your friends? Is this how you repay me?"

His jaw clenched. Unclenched. Panic and anxiety swirled in his mind. Guilt. His chest felt tight. He could feel it all, everything he fought to keep ahold of, slipping through his fingers. "I- I'm sorry!" She stood up again, as the desperate words tumbled from his lips. "I'm sorry, I'll do better, I promise-... please."

She approached him, and her hand came to his hair, gentle. "You're forgiven." She pursed her lips. "But, I still need to punish you." His throat squeezed, as she looked again at the guard, saying the words he always dreaded. "Take him to solitary."

Despite the typhoon of distress and panic that blitzed through him, he didn't struggle. He could have easily fought out of the guard's escort, sprinting down the hall to escape the punishment, but what good would it do?

The room was small, barely five feet across both ways, with no windows, or even the reflective door. Just solid matte walls, with a solid matte hatch. There was no light, so it was just solid darkness. Jungkook sat in the corner, back against the wall, knees to his chest, shaking off his memories that tried to creep back in under cover of false night. Memories of pain, of abandmonment, exclusion. Words echoed in his head, words from a different time, a different life. Those weren't relevant here. Here, he was needed, he was valued. He was,

important.

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He wasn't sure how long it had been. He felt weak, famished, dehydrated. He'd been hungry so long he didn't know what he was feeling anymore. His body was numb, and when the door finally opened and they took him for testing he wolfed down the food they gave him so quickly that he almost threw it back up again. They took blood, and ran one of those weird tests with the plastic circles on his chest that he never really understood.

There was a slight breeze. This particular testing room had windows, and it was the only one, reserved for the best behaved of patients. Only Jungkook and a select few others ever came in here- he could tell from the smells.

The two analysts mumbled to each other as they left with his samples to run the tests in the other room, leaving him alone, sat sideways on the cot with his legs dangling. A particularly strong gust whipped through the room, sending some papers from the counter beneath the window flying. They scattered, drifting to the floor, but Jungkook just ignored them, knowing he was definitely better off staying where he was, obedient.

That is, he tried to. But, as time drew on, his gaze wandered.

A normal person wouldn't have been able to see the writing on the papers, from this distance. But, Jungkook was not a normal person.

Glancing around, he quickly slipped from the cot to collect the papers in his hands, folding them hastily and stuffing them in his shirt. His heart pounded in his ears from his own daring, more so as the two analysts in their labcoats returned. They dismissed him, and he was told to go back to his cell, alone. His pace quickened without him realising, and he hurried into his room, the door sliding closed behind him. Turning his back to the one way glass, he quickly pulled the papers from beneath his shirt, positioning himself so that they were hidden from the outside by his torso.

Designation: 000465-H

That was Hoseok's identification number.

Status: missing
Order: Terminate

It was hard to breathe. Blood was filling Jungkook's ears.

Designation: 002457-B
Status: missing
Order: recycle

The brunette swallowed. He knew what that meant. He'd seen it happen.

Designation: 002457-A
Status: missing
Order: terminate

Designation: 000001 HIGH PRIORITY
Status: missing
Order: relocate

His knees felt weak. She- Gwajangnim- she'd broken her promise. Lied. Tricked him? Used him. She wasn't going to keep them together. Part of his mind rose to her defense, insisting it must be a misunderstanding, or she had some reason. But it was beaten down. Terminate. Recycle. Both resulted in death. If- if she got what she wanted- if he didn't do anything- it would leave only two of them.

There were yells of shock at the sound of shattering glass. Jungkook's clenched fist tremored with pain, shudders rolling up his arm and ricocheting through his chest. He had at least two dislocated fingers, from that. Blood dripped down the remaining glass from the hole he'd punched through it. His fingers grappled at it, the glass cutting him to ribbons as he clawed the hole bigger, slicing at his body as he yanked himself through it. Guards were running at him, but kept their distance. There weren't many. Word hadn't gotten out yet. They kept their distance, but had guns trained on him.

They hadn't seen his real strength, before. His fastest speed. He'd never resisted, never fought back at all, so they were clueless and slow to react when he darted round them, landing a blow to the back of one of their heads. He felt almost crazed, instincts taking over, brain simply a fog of adrenaline. Throwing a second, the third cursed loudly, firing a round of tranquilliser darts in his general direction.

Jungkook was too quick for him. The bullets sailed past him at a wide berth, his body moving naturally. His muscles had never felt so responsive.

He knocked out the last of them with ease, and took off in a sprint, back toward the only place he'd had the privilege to have seen the outside world from. The two analysts were still in the testing room, and reared back as the door was thrown off it's hinges, Jungkook barrelling through it. Yells followed him, but they kept out of his way, despite being armed. He crashed through the window, feeling the warm caress of sharp glass on his skin once again, but he paid it no mind, heart racing as he fell through open air. A brief moment of flight, elation, freedom, before he crashed into the branches of the trees below.

He didn't even spare a moment to pry out the piece of wood that had embedded in his bicep. He just ran, chest heaving, scrambling up the wall that encircled the compound, all but falling to the ground on the other side. He saw a huge crowd of people, on the city streets, and for this occasion, sprinted into them, weaving around people as they gave him funny looks. Expressions of alarm.

He was leaving a trail of blood, but the shallower cuts were already healing. His damaged knuckles screamed in protest as he ducked into an alley, pulling himself over a wall.

There was no rhyme or reason to the route he took. He just kept moving, even as the sun came up, even though he could feel his knuckles trying to heal themselves. They needed popping back into the sockets, but he daren't stop to do so.

He didn't know where he was going. He hadn't thought that far ahead. He'd been thoroughly encompassed in the urgent need to tell the others, tell them that he was wrong, they were in danger, none of them were needed...-

Which they all already knew.

That realisation sent cold over his skin. He stopped, finally, aching thighs becoming still. They'd been telling him that, all this time. And he'd- he'd tried to drag them back. Brought the guards to their position. Gotten in the way of their escape, twice. How could he go to them now?

But where else would he go? Back to the facility? Or just travel listlessly, with no clue on how to survive in this world?

Again, he remembered. He remembered Jimin, and Taehyung, reaching out to him that first time. He remembered Seokjin, sneaking him snacks, and Namjoon, teaching him to read. He remembered playing with Hoseok, and Yoongi giving him his remaining food, claiming he wasn't hungry. He remembered, and realised that he had to try.

Gritting his teeth, he braced himself against a tree, fighting not to cry out as he popped his knuckles back into place. Then, he took off again, toward where he'd seen Hoseok last. He had to find them.

Find them, and apologise. Lay himself at their mercy, and hope they'd let him help protect them. After all, that was all he'd ever wanted.

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It's hard to depict subtle things in these chapters. I always have to fight with myself on it. Like, do I leave it as a subtle hint, because it reads better? Or do I state it plainly, which looks cheesy sometimes, but ensures everyone picks up on it?

In summary= jk thought he was doing what was best by bringing them back. Saw the papers, realised that most of the other experiments (tae, Chim and Hope) were going to be killed. (I'll leave it to your imagination what "recycle" means lol). What do you all think about Jungoo's relationship w/ "gwajangnim"? Any theories? There is an explanation for it, but I'm curious if anyone has any ideas

I guess what I'm saying is read carefully. You'll pick up on a lot more. There will be more explanation in the next chapter, so it should all make more sense soon anyhow. But yes! That's it for now. See y'all in the next one- and leave a vote&comment!