Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Now:

Namjoon quickly scans over himself in the full-length mirror to make sure everything is in place before heading to the hall where all the press are waiting. He would usually do these quick post-battle check ups and conferences with at least one of the Bangtan members present to help answer questions, but this latest villain had been particularly destructive -- if not very bright -- and so the hero pack had been sent to medical as soon as the fighting was over.

The entire conference lasts less than ten minutes, the usual questions of known number of casualties, areas of destruction,  and plans for cleanup and rescue answered quickly and efficiently. When it’s over Namjoon changes out of his suit into labor wear suitable for the biting cold of early winter and is driven to the most pressing site of cleanup where the most damage has been reported. After he finds the woman in charge and gets instruction on where his help is most needed, he gets to work with all the other construction workers and volunteers.

It’s grueling work, and only a few hours in he’s already exhausted and wishing for a break. He also wants to call one of the pack members to ask how they’re doing, but Dr. Zhang has already reported to tell him that all the Bangtan Heroes are in good shape, if a little drained, so he has no reason to stop, especially as every pair of hands is critical during the cleanup and rescue process.

He’s just resolved himself to doing his task for the rest of the day and probably well into the night when the shrill tone of his phone startles him out of his work haze.

“Hello, Kim Namjoon speaking,” he answers without checking the ID. One of the volunteers is passing out water bottles and he gestures for one to be passed to him so he doesn’t have to pick his way down the pile of rubble he’s perched on. “If this is in regards to the funding for cleanup of our latest attack, please contact your personal insurance agency for further information or review--”

“Hyung.”

Namjoon pauses, stupefied, and pulls his phone back to blink at the name on the screen, then puts it back to his ear. “ Jimin ? Why are you calling my work phone?”

Jimin huffs. “We’ve all tried calling your personal cell but you never answered. Yoongi hyung was this close to going into a Rage and searching for you in the nearest collapsed building even though we all clearly saw you on live TV after the battle.” Namjoon guiltily remembers that he left his personal phone in his work bag with the company driver that brought him here. He hadn’t thought anyone would call. In the background he hears some indignant grumbling from who he is pretty sure is Yoongi and realizes he must be on speaker. Jimin shushes the other hero then asks, “Where are you? We didn’t hear anything from you after the press conference.”

Namjoon takes a quick sip from his water bottle to soothe his dry throat. “At one of the cleanup sites,” he answers. “There’s a lot to do so I probably won’t be able to check in for a while unless it’s for another emergency.” He pauses as he registers what Jimin had said. All of them had tried to call him?

“Wait,” he says, suddenly frantic. "Is there an emergency? Is everyone ok? Yixing said that you all were fine but if something’s happened since then--”

“Hey, hyung. Hyung," Jimin cuts in before Namjoon can truly work himself into a state. “We’re fine. We were worried about you." Namjoon feels himself flush at the admission and is grateful they can’t see him.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” and that’s Yoongi, his voice gruff. Namjoon remembers he took the worst of this battle's injuries. “We’re all fine, Namjoon-ah. What site are you at? We’ll send Jeongguk and Taehyung to come get you.”

“What?” Namjoon quickly shakes off the warmth that hearing Yoongi address him familiarly always makes him feel. “No! There’s still so much to do. Cleanup is going to take days and I still have to review the damage costs that these businesses’ insurances won’t cover, not to mention meeting with Mayor Yun to do another press conference with more solid numbers and plans and--” he takes off his hard hat to run a hand tiredly through his hair. “Sorry. I won’t go into all of that. I just can’t leave any time soon.”

There’s a pause, in which he knows Yoongi and Jimin are trading a look, before Jimin says, “That’s fine, hyung. We won’t push you. When was the last time you ate?”

Namjoon blinks, thrown by the random question. “Uh, probably last night? I can’t remember eating anything today. Why?”

Yoongi hmms. “You need to eat more Joon-ah. Even at times like this, at least have a snack.”

Namjoon lets that warmth from before wash over him at the two heroes' concern as he settles his hard hat back over his head, carefully securing it in place as best he can with only one available hand. “I’ll find a snack as soon as I can, hyung. Don’t worry.”

“We always worry about you,” Jimin says fondly. “Alright then. Be careful, ok hyungie? Wear all your protective gear and don’t forget to drink water and take breaks regularly.”

Namjoon smiles, unbearably warm and soft. “I will. Get some rest.”

After bidding each other goodbye, Namjoon throws himself back into work with renewed energy. He sinks into the familiar haze of cleanup, marking with specially colored flags the areas that are potential fire hazards and hazardous wastes. It’s a large area to cover and there’s a lot to do, so when there’s a call for the crews to take a break over an hour later he continues on so as not to lose the work flow he’s developed.

They’re only a few minutes into the break when he hears a commotion from the designated safe break area, and then his name called in rising degrees of awe from multiple crew members.

“Mm?” He stands up straight from where he’s squatting over a flagged area and squints in the direction of the commotion, his eyes widening when he sees two familiar heroes heading towards him. “Tae? Gukkie?”

“Hyung!” Taehyung is the first to reach him, a grin lighting his face as he quickly takes off one of his gloves and reaches forward to hold Namjoon’s wrist, right over where his scent would be strong if he was a different designation. “Have you been here long?”

Jeongguk, only a step behind Taehyung, slips one of his own gloves off before taking Namjoon’s other wrist in hand, gently stroking the soft skin there. Namjoon welcomes the contact, by now well-aware that the entire pack relies on physical touch to help them stay grounded, especially immediately after a battle. “I came here a little after the conference,” he answers. “Are either of you hurt?” They both shake their heads, but when he raises a disbelieving eyebrow they shift sheepishly.

“Just some bruises, hyung,” Jeongguk promises. “There were more, but they’ve already healed.” He stops thumbing Namjoon’s wrist and slides his hand down to lace their fingers together. “You weren’t hurt, were you?”

Namjoon squeezes his hand. “No, I was nowhere near the battle.”

"Good," Taehyung says, leaning forward to gently bump his nose against Namjoon's jaw. When he welcomes the gesture by tilting his head the slightest bit, Taehyung hmms happily and presses just a little bit harder before pulling back. "We got food delivered for everyone here. Come eat, then we'll help with cleanup. Why don't you have a scarf?"

Touched by the pack's concern for him, Namjoon nods. "I had one, but after moving around so much I was getting hot."

"You should wear it anyway, hyung," Jeongguk insists. "It's too cold not to."

"Of course, Jeongguk-ah," he agrees easily. "I'll put it back on after we eat." He hesitates, considering his actions carefully, before slipping his hand out of the maknae hero's grip to instead lightly brush his knuckles against the skin just under his jaw. When Jeongguk makes a pleased noise and presses closer, Namjoon carefully turns his hand to rub his wrist against the soft skin there. As a beta his scent is weak, almost non-existent, but he's noticed that everyone in the pack reacts well to scenting him and being scented in return.

"Alright," he says after taking a moment to lightly scent Taehyung, too. He stuffs his cold hands in his pockets and leads the way back to the designated break area where all the food is being distributed among the workers. "Thank you for the food. You didn't have to."

"Everyone here is working so hard, of course we want to take care of all of you," Taehyung says, brushing against his shoulder and grinning at the workers who are still staring at him and Jeongguk in awe. Namjoon shies away from the starstruck looks that fall on him walking between them. "Besides, Jiminie called and said you didn't eat today."

Namjoon huffs, burrowing his chin in the collar of his coat to attempt escape both from the cold air and awed gazes. "He shouldn't have done that. You two should be at the tower resting."

"Aw don't be upset, hyung," Jeongguk pouts, resting his chin on Namjoon's shoulder even as they move through the line to pick up carefully packaged individual plates of food. "Tae and I would've come to find you either way. Yoongi hyung wanted to come too but Jinnie hyung wouldn't let him since he took the brunt of the injuries."

"He's ok though?"

"Yeah, of course! You know how hyung is. He'll never rest if we don't make him."

Namjoon hums an agreement and sits on a wide concrete block to eat, the two heroes sitting on either side of him. He's just barely popped the lid of his plate open when Jeongguk presses meat and rice to his mouth.

"Aish," he scolds lightly, accepting the food before feeding some of his own to the maknae alpha. "Stop feeding me and eat. You're the ones who have worked hard today."

"Hyung needs to eat, too," Taehyung declares, holding up a spoonful of pickled vegetables, stubbornly pressing it against Namjoon's lips until he obligingly opens his mouth to accept. "Thank you for working so hard."

Namjoon huffs and turns away, hoping they'll blame his burning red ears on the weather. They pass the rest of the short break like this, feeding each other off their own plates and exchanging bright smiles with the workers and volunteers around them.

---

Then:

When Namjoon was first assigned to Bangtan, they hadn't gotten along at all.

It was understandable, he had reasoned to himself. Their previous handlers had been greedy and abusive, their jealousy of the famous heroes making them cruel and uncaring of the pack's personal lives and health. Some had even tried to use their own powers against the pack, which prompted their hero agency BigHit to make the decision to only bring in betas as handlers from then on since they were born without powers. It was a big factor on why Namjoon had been hired.

It did nothing to make the Bangtan pack any warmer towards him, though.

"If you even use the wrong tone with any of us," Seokjin had threatened the first time they met, "I will personally hang you from the roof of the tower."

Now, two years later, Namjoon recognizes that the hero would never actually do it, but back then it was a threat he took seriously.

"Of course, Seokjin-ssi," he'd responded, keeping his shoulders straight even under the weight of an alpha's gaze on the edge of Rage. "Though if you ever feel I put you or anyone in your pack in needless danger I hope you will bring your concerns to me first before pursuing bodily harm."

He had spent over three years heading his own team of rescue and recovery agents, even though most of them had had terrible complexes that lead them to throw their weight around when it came to taking orders from him. He needed the Bangtan pack to understand that he would do what he could to show them proper respect and make both their professional and personal lives easier, but he would not be cowed or made to feel lesser than he was.

"I'm here to help you," he'd reassured, looking away from the head alpha to take in the rest of the Bangtan pack. "Please let me do so. We are not enemies, Seokjin-ssi." He met his eyes once again and held eye contact for an uncomfortable amount of time. Seokjin huffed and turned back to Namjoon's employment contract, provided by CEO Bang.

"We'll see, Namjoon-ssi."

---

Now:

Namjoon's already running late so he takes a quick trip from the tower for dessert and wine before heading up to the Bangtan living quarters nearly two hours after the time he said he'd be there. He's barely stepped in the door before being nearly bowled over by Jimin.

"Hyung! Did your meeting with CEO Bang run late? If you're tired you could've just called to tell us then gone home. Is everything alright? Oh, what's that?"

Namjoon laughs as Jimin zeroes in on the bags in his hands, passing them to him before stooping to take off his shoes. "Yeah, sorry I'm late. The board and I had a lot to go over for the Festival of Heroes coming up. I figured I was just in time for dinner so I got us some dessert."

"And wine!" Jimin gasps delightedly, holding up the bottle like a trophy to be admired in the light. "Dinner's almost ready. Do you want to get changed? I'm sure Jeonggukie and Jinnie hyung have clothes that could fit you." He glances meaningfully at the stiff suit Namjoon's been wearing all day.

"That sounds great," Namjoon says, already loosening his tie. "Is Seokjin hyung in the kitchen?"

"Of course."

He takes the bags and wine back from Jimin before making his way to the kitchen, smiling at the greeting calls he gets from Hoseok and Yoongi laying on the floor in the wide open space of their living room.

"Is that you, Namjoon-ah?" Seokjin calls before he even gets to the kitchen area.

"It's me, hyung. Sorry I'm late."

Seokjin waves off his apology from where he's stirring a stew. "No need. Is everything ok?"

Namjoon places the wine and bags of dessert on the counter, unpacking everything and refrigerating what he has to. "Everything's fine. CEO Bang just wanted to go over our plans for the Festival of Heroes and tighten up some details." He discards of what he needs to and leans against the counter, enjoying the peace of just being here after a long day. "Jiminie said I could change into your or Jeonggukie's clothes. Is that alright with you?"

"Yeah of course that’s– ah."

Namjoon blinks in confusion as Seokjin turns to look at him then promptly stutters to a stop mid sentence, eyes on his collar. He glances down at flushes when he realizes how unkempt he looks with his loose tie and nearly halfway unbuttoned shirt. "Ah sorry, hyung. I'm a bit of a mess right now." He rubs his jawline self-consciously.

"Oh no, it's–" Seokjin visibly pulls himself together, eyes snapping to Namjoon's and holding so steady Namjoon feels his ears heat up to match his cheeks. "It's fine, Joon-ah. Nothing wrong with having a long day. And yes, please go get changed and wear whatever you want from my closet." He spins back to his stew, stirring even though Namjoon is sure the stove's off.

"Thanks, hyung."

Less than half an hour later they're all sitting around the table, Namjoon finally comfortable in Seokjin's loose sweats and an oversize shirt. Sitting next to him with their shoulders pressed tightly together, Jeongguk firmly rubs his wrist against Namjoon's.

"How come you didn't want to wear my clothes?" he pouts playfully. "We're similar sizes, too."

"Seokjin hyung was the first person of the two of you I saw so he's the one I asked." Namjoon says, pulling from the maknae's grip to lightly thumb at his jaw. Jeongguk instantly relaxes into the scenting, his content grin making Namjoon coo and the rest of the pack laugh.

"Namjoon hyung never has to ask to use my clothes," he insists when Namjoon drops his hand to eat. "Wear whatever you want whenever." Across from them, Hoseok balls up a napkin to throw at him.

"Leave him alone and eat, you menace!"

"You're just upset none of your clothes fit Joonie hyung!"

"You want me to come over there and break your legs?"

"Yah! I worked hard on this food so you better at least eat it first!"

Namjoon laughs, loud and so happy.

"Thank you for always inviting me to eat with you," he says, changing the subject before food fight breaks out. He's not quite able to chase his smile away. "Being here with you always makes me happy."

"Ahhhh our Namjoonie!" Hoseok reaches across to hold his cheeks, ignoring Seokjin's protests to at least go around the table. "Our sweet Namjoonie, you make us happy, too. Please join us everyday." His smile is wide and contagious. Namjoon laughs again and fights against his hold to nod.

Yoongi nudges Hoseok hard enough to break his grip and force him to sit again. "Yah, don't crowd him," he scolds. When he looks at back at Namjoon though, his eyes are warm. "But really, Namjoon-ah. Come over everyday. No matter the time, we want you here."

Namjoon feels something in him settle, comfort and warmth developing and spreading throughout his whole body.

"I'd love to."

---

Then:

Namjoon really needed the finance department to step up its game.

"What do you mean they wouldn't provide any resources for your den upgrade?"

Hoseok shrugged, carefully looking over the spread of opened den decor catalogs on the table in front of him. "They said it wasn't an obligation and that since it's our own personal matter we need to take care of it ourselves."

Namjoon took a deep breath, silently reminding himself that the only pack members who actually read the fine print in contracts were Yoongi and Seokjin and even then it's only because he made them. He shouldn't take his anger at BigHit out on Hoseok.

"Hoseok-ssi, den and nest resources are meant to be provided by the company. It's in your employment contract. Have you been taking care of this all by yourselves this whole time?" Hoseok blinked up at him, thinking before nodding slowly. Namjoon pinched the bridge of his nose. Heroes didn't get paid nearly as much as the public thought, especially since most agencies deemed living arrangements and personalized gear to be enough of a compensation to lower their yearly salary.

"Alright," he said after a few more deep breaths, standing from the table and pulling out his phone. "I'm calling a meeting with the rest of the pack. Don't go anywhere."

Hoseok hummed, already dismissing him to go through the catalogs some more. It had been like this in the months since Namjoon's first meeting with the rest of the pack. When it had been established that open hostility would not be tolerated from either side they had taken to ignoring him unless absolutely necessary.

Unfortunately for everyone, speaking to him was necessary more often than not.

"Hello, Yoongi-ssi?"

"What is it? We're in the middle of something."

"When is the earliest you and the rest of the pack can be home? There's something I need to speak to everyone about."

"Is it urgent?"

Namjoon glanced back to where Hoseok was sitting. "Urgent enough I'd like to get it done today."

"Mm. Give us a couple hours."

Namjoon knew for a fact that everyone had been grocery shopping for hours already and would only take that much longer simply to make him wait. However, he could be patient. His entire schedule today was to go over their contracts, which is what had lead him to this dilemma in the first place.

"I will be waiting for you then," he said. Yoongi hung up without a greeting.

He sighed, pocketing his phone and turning back to the table. "I'm going to make lunch. Are you ok with the leftovers Seokjin-ssi left from last night?"

Hoseok grunted, not looking up from what he was reading. Namjoon walked around the dividing counter to the kitchen area and slowly transferred the food to microwavable dishes and heated everything, pouring a glass of water while he waited.  "Hoseok-ssi," he called, "please clear the table in front of you for the food." There was no reply, but when carried the dishes over Hoseok had stacked all the magazines to the side. After placing everything within easy reaching distance he carefully unwrapped the ice pack that was taped to the hero's knee and switched it out with a fresh one.

"Don't forget to do your stretches," he reminded. "You'll be out in the field again in no time."

When he was satisfied with the wrappings he checked his phone for the time. If he got started right now he should be able to have everything read through before the pack came home. He might even have time to take notes on the parts that needed to be changed. He gathered up all the files and moved to the couch so as not to disturb Hoseok's meal.

"Are you not eating?"

Namjoon twisted back to see him. "What was that?"

"Are you not hungry?" Hoseok sat in front of his food, all still untouched. He was leaning back against his chair, arms crossed and one eyebrow raised.

"Ah. No, I'm alright."

"You haven't eaten all day."

Namjoon blinked, glancing at a wall clock and realizing that he indeed hadn't eaten since before he showed up early that morning before even the pack had had their breakfast together. He looked back to Hoseok. Was he expecting them to eat together?

"It's alright, Hoseok-ssi. Just let me know when you're done so I can clean up."

Hoseok frowned at him. "This is a lot of food. Come eat, Namjoon-ssi." He smiled, not exactly friendly, but still more than Namjoon usually saw from him. "Despite what you might have heard, I don't bite."

Namjoon hesitated, glancing back at the contracts and records that he had just finished spreading in front of him. "I should really get as far into these as I can," he said, trying to let Hoseok take an out.

The hero rolled his eyes. "I'm sure it's something we're all supposed to be looking over together anyways. I heard your stomach growling earlier, Namjoon-ssi. Come eat."

Not really seeing a way out, and indeed hungry, Namjoon lifted himself from the couch and slowly sat at the table, watching Hoseok for any sign he should leave. He took a discreet sniff but even the alpha's scent was calm and just on the more welcoming side of neutral. He accepted the plate handed to him and kept his gaze low.

"Thank you for the meal."

Hoseok served him meat before he could reach for the dish himself. "Eat well."

---

Chapter Text

Now:

Namjoon groans and slowly leans his head from side to side to stretch his sore neck. It's been a long slow day in the office with no attacks or disasters that call for the Bangtan heroes' attention. It gets like this sometimes, and he knows to be grateful for the peace. With a carefully organized rotating schedule of which hero groups get called first in a disaster, there are sometimes weeks at a time when Bangtan isn't needed and they are able to rest and train and develop their own personal hobbies. This gives Namjoon time to catch up on record keeping and meetings with the BigHit board on disaster response and recovery, or whatever the subject may be.

On that note, his eyes hurt and he feels like he almost constantly has a headache these days.

He's just very, very tired.

He's aware of the foolishness of him being the tired one when he's never the one that is out in the field or in danger, but there's something draining about the never ending paperwork that comes with his job. Meetings are tedious. Playing nice with the oh so distinguished board members makes him want to bang his head against the nearest brick wall. Even looking back on his years heading his own team, he can hardly remember being so exhausted as often as he is now. Guiltily, in the privacy of his own mind, he looks forward to Bangtan's busy weeks when the company acknowledges that the pack are his first priority and is therefore willing to excuse his occasional absence from the office.

He's staring forlornly at his computer screen where hours worth of reports and emails from other hero packs' handlers make an intimidating list when there's a sharp knock on his door. He glances at the clock and makes an effort to pull his shoulders back and cover the dark circles under his eyes with his glasses. It's late evening, but not so late that he can't at least still look presentable.

"Come in," he calls.

The door swings open before he even finishes speaking, and there stands Hoseok, bright and lovely and like a balm for Namjoon's sore eyes. His stiff posture instantly relaxes. "Seok-ah," he greets. The smile that comes to his face is so natural he doesn't even notice it's there until he has to shape the alpha's name around it. He'd feel more silly if Hoseok wasn't grinning back. The alpha quietly shuts the door behind him and sinks into one of the two leather chairs across Namjoon's desk.

"Wah, Namjoon-ah. Have you been here all day? Soobin said he hasn't seen you leave your office outside of meetings."

Namjoon internally winces, wondering if there's a way to bribe the handler of BigHit's newest hero group to stop telling on him to Bangtan.

"Why is he watching out for me when he should be focusing on his own work," he mutters, but there's no heat to it. Soobin is a hard worker who takes good care of his hero group despite them all being green in the field, plus the way he had lit up and instantly became shy when meeting the Bangtan pack may have made Namjoon's heart more than a little bit soft towards the younger beta.

"Don't blame him for noticing your bad habits," Hoseok says. "What will we do if he starts to take after you? I don't know if my heart could handle seeing him not have a life outside of work."

"I have a life!" Namjoon protests. "I have friends and I do— uh, other things besides work."

"Yeah? What do you do and how often?"

Namjoon huffs and studiously looks back to his computer screen, clicking randomly to make it look like he's busy. "Many things and very often."

"Mhm. Of course, my mistake." Hoseok's smile is huge and teasing. Namjoon pretends it doesn't do something to his heart to see it so freely directed at him. "Really though, Namjoon-ah. Look at me, please?" He waits for Namjoon to comply, leaning forward onto the desk so they're close enough for his scent to fully permeate the air around him. "Please take a break with me? I won't tell you to stop for the night. I know you have a lot to do. But let's go for a walk, yeah? Get some fresh air."

Namjoon looks back at the list of people he needs to respond to, the night ahead feeling long and hopeless. Despite it all, fresh air does sound amazing, especially with Hoseok as company.

"That sounds great," he says, quieter than he meant to. He looks up at Hoseok and has to force himself not to look away from the smile that widens on the alpha's face.

"Thank you," Hoseok says, just as quiet. Namjoon tilts his head.

"What for?"

Hoseok shrugs. "For agreeing. For letting me take care of you."

"Aish," Namjoon rubs his neck self consciously. He organizes the stacks of papers on his desk, partially so he won't be lost when he comes back and partially because he needs an excuse to not meet the other man's eyes. "Don't thank me for making you come all the way down here just to make sure I don't keel over at my desk."

Hoseok laughs softly, standing to grab Namjoon's coat off a hook on the wall and holding it out for him to slip into more easily. "Still, I'm happy to be here. Yoongi might be joining us too if he manages to pull himself away from his latest project." He brushes some invisible dust off Namjoon's shoulders then lightly presses his wrist against his jaw. Namjoon tilts his head for better access. "Let's get something to eat too, yeah? Nothing too big, I don't want to upset your stomach."

Namjoon smiles at Hoseok's lingering scent on his skin.

"Food sounds amazing right now."

(Yoongi doesn't join them for their walk but he does meet them on the first floor of the tower when they step off the elevator. He wraps a scarf around Namjoon's neck, and his scent is so strong on it he must've just scented it before coming down. Namjoon burrows into the warmth of it and a familiar comfort blooms in his chest. When the omega notices how he sinks into his scent his ears turn bright pink but his voice is steady when he tells them to come back safely.)

...

The nice thing about being in the big city is that they can walk with their hats and scarves and not be recognized by anyone around them. The late hour doesn't provide much in the way of foot traffic, but they are still just another pair going about their evening. Namjoon puts up a token protest when Hoseok buys him hotteok from a sweet woman working her stall alone, but he knows it's in vain so he accepts the alpha's offer gratefully.

"Aigoo," the woman coos when she sees Hoseok's face clearly under his ball cap, "Hoseok-ssi, it's been too long! Thank you for choosing this humble stall to feed your handsome beta."

Namjoon flushes and tries to hide deeper in Yoongi's scarf. "Oh I'm not—"

He cuts himself off by nearly chomping off his own tongue when Hoseok wraps his arms around his waist in a familiar koala-like hold. The alpha smiles brightly. "You always have the best food for a late night stroll, ajumma. Of course I would bring him here."

The woman laughs and waves a hand. "Well, make sure you come back more often! I haven't seen any of you in far too long, I was afraid you'd been hurt."

They leave after Hoseok promises to do so with more smiles and compliments. Namjoon admires the perfect coloring of his hotteok and gasps when he tries it.

"Ah Seok-ah, this is so good!"

"Isn't it?" Hoseok says, proud like he cooked the food himself. He blinks in surprise when Namjoon holds out his food for him to try, then makes a delighted sound and takes a bite. Namjoon watches as he chews happily and the warmth that's been blooming in him ever since the hero had walked into his office unfurls. Spreads. Takes flight from his heart and seems to cover the walkway around them in all his favorite colors.

"Hoseok-ah," he says, quiet. The alpha turns to look at him, the corners of his eyes crinkled in a smile that seems to take permanent residence on his handsome features. "Thank you for pulling me out of the office. I really needed this."

Hoseok watches him for a moment, his eyes full of a warmth and emotion Namjoon has come to rely on.

"Any time, Joon-ah. I mean it. I'll always take care of you."

---

Then:

"BigHit has reimbursed us for all our spendings on nest and den materials over the past four years."

Namjoon lifted his gaze from his computer to squint blearily at the man in his office doorway.

"What?"

Yoongi stepped further into the office, just far enough to close the door behind him.

"Our expenses. For our den and nest supplies. We've been reimbursed as far back as we've been with the agency."

"Oh." Namjoon glanced back down at his screen, squinted, then fumbled for his glasses that had been sitting on his head but he should've been wearing the whole time. He looked back up at the hero still standing in what should've been an awkward position by his door but looked for all the world like he was perfectly comfortable there. "That— that's good. Have you made sure to check your records to ensure that they've reimbursed you in full?"

Yoongi nodded, but said nothing else. He continued to stand and seemed to take in the rest of Namjoon's – admittedly messy – office. The beta shifted in his seat, partially to get some feeling in his numb behind and partially out of discomfort with the looming presence by his door. He waited for the omega to speak, but when maybe a minute had passed he hesitantly gestured to the seats situated on the other side of his desk.

"Would you like to sit down, Yoongi-ssi?"

The hero hummed a vague acknowledgment to the question but took another moment to look at a painting on the wall. Finally, just when Namjoon was considering going back to his work and ignoring the other man, Yoongi turned back to him.

"None of our past handlers informed us that nest and den costs were to be handled by the agency."

Namjoon waited to see if he'd say more; maybe ask a question. When the hero only continued to watch him, he realized he would have to just come up with a response.

"Your past handlers were neglectful and never should've had their jobs in the first place." It sounded harsh, but he knew it was true. Just in the few months since he'd taken the position he'd found far too many discrepancies between Bangtan's contract and what they'd actually been required to do and had received in return. He'd already called quite a few meetings with the other hero handlers and the agency board to go over all the groups' past mistreatment. Overall throughout the company it wasn't nearly as bad as he'd initially feared, but he didn't want anyone to be treated unfairly just because they were unaware of their rights as heroes under BigHit.

Yoongi nodded. "We're well aware. Still, you're the one who took the time to actually look into it and make things right." He finally walked closer, but instead of sitting down he rested his hands on the desk and leaned closer, putting himself intimidatingly into Namjoon's space. "So what is it? They paying you a lot? You going for a promotion?"

Namjoon blinked, staring up into the hero's face. Yoongi's expression was hard, his hands clenched into fists on the desk. He didn't know what he was supposed to say, so he went with the truth.

"I don't know the difference in payment between myself and past handlers," he started, voice carefully neutral. Yoongi's scent was like the moment just before firecrackers exploded. "But I can assure you that everything I've done has been because it is what I was hired to do and nothing more. I don't even know if there's a promotion to be had above being your handler."

Yoongi continued to stare into his face, searching for deception that Namjoon knew he wouldn't find. When he caught him taking a deep breath to gauge his scent he huffed in exasperation and leaned back against his chair, taking off his glasses to close his eyes and massage the bridge of his nose. He felt the headache that he'd been fighting off all day start to flare behind his eyes. The screens in front of him shone with a menace against his eyelids and he wondered if he could've staved off the pain longer if he'd been wearing his glasses from the very beginning like he was supposed to.

"You know I cannot lie to you, Yoongi-ssi. If this investigation was all you came here for, please leave. I have a lot to do."

Half of the omega's entire power was that he always knew if someone was lying to him. In person, over message, even in a news article. It made this whole situation feel ridiculous to Namjoon. As soon as the other man left, he promised himself he was going to take a walk and find some good coffee. Maybe take a nap.

Yoongi was still watching him. Namjoon briefly considered the consequences of sticking his tongue out at him. Respectfully.

"Yoongi-ssi," he tried again, because as much as he wanted to kick the man out his entire job was to take care of him. "I want to be completely honest with you—"

"You don't have a choice."

"—and so, if you would like, you should ask me any question and see for yourself that my intentions here are purely professional and for your benefit."

Yoongi finally leaned back, now standing menacingly by the desk instead of leaning over it. Namjoon thought about laughing at him for it but decided that'd be a surefire reason for Seokjin to hang him from the roof of the building.

Yoongi considered him for a moment longer before finally stepping away. "That won't be necessary. I only came to inform you that your hard work is paying off."

Namjoon was so ready for something resembling an interrogation that it took him a second to realize that the hero had stood down.

And complimented him? Maybe?

"Ah," he said, looking away uncomfortably before remembering eye contact was more respectful. "That's— good. I'm glad. There's still a lot that needs to be done but I'm glad things are changing."

Yoongi nodded. Namjoon watched curiously as he took one last sweeping look at the office before turning to leave. At the door he stopped to say, "What time do you usually get off? It's late."

Namjoon glanced at his wall clock and grimaced at the hour. "I'm sure I'll be done soon."

Yoongi hmm'd, and opened the door. "That's the first time you've ever lied to me. Don't do it again," he said, then let the door swing shut behind him.

Namjoon took a moment to stare confusedly at his empty office.

"Huh. Ok then."

---

Now :

Namjoon hates pyro villains. He hates them.

He knows it sounds harsh considering that Jeongguk's power is largely fire-based, but here and now while he's crawling for his life through a burning building he thinks he can be excused.

To think this was supposed to be a simple relaxing day. He'd laugh at his obscenely high expectations of peace and quiet if he wasn't in mortal danger.

He can barely see a thing, but he has just enough visibility to see the soles of Jihoon's shoes as the other beta crawls in front of him. He doesn't have the time – or frankly, the breath or willpower – to look behind him to check if Seungcheol is still keeping pace with them, but god he hopes he is. They're crawling as quickly as they safely can, but the air above them is so hot he knows he'll have burns on his back and he's sweating up a small storm and the only thing he really knows right now is to move move move are the others alright move move—

He takes a deep breath to stave off the panic, but all that gets him is burning lungs full of smoke.

They'd been having a meeting, just the handlers of the hero groups under BigHit plus a select few others, to discuss disaster response schedules and budgeting plans and maybe even some vacation time for their groups. The restaurant they'd chosen was small but clean and provided private rooms so they wouldn't have to worry about starstruck civilians or eavesdroppers. The food was good, and once they got the alcohol flowing, it was even better. They'd been only a couple hours in when their room started filling with smoke, and then very suddenly, fire.

Namjoon is willing to bet that the restaurant being attacked while a large group of hero handlers were inside wasn't a coincidence. The fire alarm had even been disabled.

He cries out when something – a wooden beam? – falls from the ceiling, close enough to hit his shoulder and set fire to some of his clothes. Behind him Seungcheol yelps and Namjoon feels him frantically pat at his legs to put out the fire that he feels burning through his pants. Namjoon doesn't know what's actually on fire and what's just hot, but he feels his energy quickly seeping out even through the adrenaline.

"Jihoon," he gasps, coughing through the tears that well up in his aching eyes as his throat burns, "Jihoon, are you alright?"

If the other beta responds he can't hear it, but the shoes in front of him increase in distance so he knows Jihoon is at least still moving. He shakily pushes himself forward.

He wonders if them being placed in the private room furthest from any exits was also not a coincidence.

They scramble past a body. Namjoon doesn't have to check to know the person is already dead. He doesn't have time to feel guilty for leaving them behind.

From somewhere above him there's a flare of heat, a woosh of sound, and a crash not too far behind him. He's so deep in his headspace of move move you have to keep moving that he doesn't even register it until—

"Seungcheol," he gasps, and turns. 

Seungcheol's gone.

"Seungcheol!" He rasps, barely loud enough for himself to hear. Desperately, he crawls back in the direction they came. Louder, "Seungcheol-ah!" He can't hear anything past the roar of the flames, but he can't bring himself to turn back in the direction of the exit. Seungcheol was just behind him. He has to be close. He has to.

Namjoon crawls, blindly reaching his hands out to feel for something, anything that could be his fellow handler's body. Seungcheol's fine, he reassures himself. He must just be passed out. The crash from earlier must've hit him, or cut him off from their path, or he got confused in the smoke, or—

There!

His fingers touch hair, then travel down to brush over eyes, a nose. He scrambles forward until he can blink frantically into Seungcheol's slack face, tears continuously running down Namjoon's cheeks but doing nothing to clear his vision.

"Seungcheol-ah," he rasps, sinking into a coughing fit that makes even more tears spill over. God, he can't breathe. "I'm going to get you out, ok? We're going to be fine."

With burned, swollen fingers he manages to pull the other man from the debris he's under and hoist him onto his back and army crawls in the direction that he hopes leads to the exit. He's barely gasping for breath, more smoke than anything else filling his lungs. Jihoon is long gone, probably didn't even realize that there was no one behind him anymore. Namjoon hopes he reached the exit, that there are people out there doing what they can to put out the fire. Maybe there are even heroes on the scene.

But he can't focus on that. He has to keep moving.

It's like watching everything happen in someone else's body. Namjoon watches his hands shakily pull himself forward, now dragging the combined weight of himself and Seungcheol more than actually crawling. He doesn't even know if he's moving his legs or if everything's relying on his arms right now. His head's filling with fog. Having Seungcheol on his back sends red hot fire lacing up and down his spine from where he's already been burned. At some point, minutes, hours, lifetimes later – how long has he been crawling? – the other beta slips from his back and he doesn't have the energy or coordination to pull him back on so he unsteadily turns and hooks an arm around the man's chest and pulls.

This is how he gets out:

On his back, dragging himself out by a single elbow because his other arm is still preoccupied and his legs refuse to cooperate. He's surrounded by heat and smoke and dust and he's not even sure if he's heading in the right direction, but he moves anyway. And then suddenly there are arms hooked under his own, lifting him and dragging him back at a much greater speed than he'd been managing himself. There's a blur of almost nauseating movement where the only thing he can manage to do is hold on tight to Seungcheol and squeeze his eyes shut against the overwhelming smoke and heat around him, and then—

Rain.

Namjoon gasps – or tries to; his lungs are still filled with smoke and his throat burns and Seungcheol is a heavy weight clasped to his chest – and feels himself lowered to cold cold not hot anymore wet ground as another coughing fit racks through his body. Rain falls onto his face. Even through his haze as he struggles to breathe, precipitation has never felt so sweet.

Everything still burns.

He hears yelling, twin frantic cries of "Seungcheol hyung!" – that was Soonyoung and Jihoon, they made it out, they're alive – before the weight he's holding to his chest is gently pried away and lifted. He groans at the shift, the cold rain and wet ground beginning to agitate his sensitive burned skin.

"Namjoon-ssi, can you hear me? Can you open your eyes?"

He huffs in pain, squinting his eyes open and blinking against the rain. Someone holds something over his head to cover from the downpour while clinical, precise hands check him over. He gladly lies still for them.

"Did—" he's cut off by heaving, hacking coughs that make his eyes water and his entire body seize. He's distantly aware of being lifted, then set down somewhere he's able to sit up. An oxygen mask is fitted over the lower half of his face and over time his coughs wane and his breathing slowly becomes easier.

Once his breathing is easier and his ears stop ringing, he's aware of the voice calmly talking him through the ordeal.

"Namjoon-ssi? Sir, can you hear me? Can you open your eyes again for me?"

Namjoon groans, squinting his eyes open once again to look into the familiar face of the medic tending to him. "Doctor Zhang?" They've propped him up so he's sitting with his legs hanging out the back of a med-evac van. A glance around tells him that the fire is still raging in the building but there are heroes on scene to contain it.

"Good evening, Namjoon-ssi," the man says in his normal pleasant tone. Even if he hadn't been born with advanced healing powers Namjoon truly believes the alpha would've still ended up in the medical field. He exudes a comfort that's appreciated by all he treats, especially in the high stress environments of the hero industry. "You took quite a bit of damage."

"Will I die?" Namjoon rasps, trying his best for a smile. Dr. Zhang grants him one and lightly taps at beta's neck. Almost instantly it feels like a cool balm spreads through his throat and chest, making him nearly groan in relief. When the cool feeling settles into something more normal – an indication his throat and lungs are healed – the alpha removes the oxygen mask and uses both hands to cradle his jaw and turn his head side to side.

"You'll live," he says, and Namjoon wonders if his soft voice is part of his power. "And luckily, besides being somewhat dry, there's no damage to your face. How do your eyes feel?"

"They burn a little."

"That's fine, it'll wear off soon. Give me your hands, please."

Namjoon obliges, sighing in relief when Dr. Zhang gently blows on his swollen fingers and the same balm-like feeling from before spreads from his fingertips to his elbows. When it fades, his hands are back to normal, and when he flexes his fingers and twists his wrists there's no pain. "Thank you, Dr. Zhang."

"Of course. Now, let me see your back."

It continues on like this, with Namjoon following the doctor's promptings so he can be fully examined. In less than ten minutes he's nearly completely healed, and he takes the time to look around at the other handlers being treated – it looks like they all made it out, thank god – and ask what happened.

"An attack, as I'm sure you've already realized." Dr. Zhang says. He gently pushes aside Namjoon's shaky hands and helps re-button his shirt. "You're going to want to throw most of these clothes away away when you get home. They're burned beyond repair." He reaches past Namjoon to pull a blanket from a small stack and drape it around his shoulders. "I don't believe they've caught anyone yet but our enforcement teams are searching. We do know they were targeting the handler meeting. They threatened the restaurant owner to put you as far from the doors as possible and disable the alarms."

Namjoon sighs and leans forward to rest his head in his hands. The adrenaline crash makes him feel like he holds the weight of a building on his shoulders. "I figured. There was no way it was a coincidence." He lifts his head to look around again. "Seungcheol?"

"Alive. He took a hard hit to the head from falling debris. That, as well as smoke inhalation and the heat overwhelmed him. I cleared his lungs and checked for brain damage before taking care of you."

Namjoon nods, putting his head back in his hands. "That's a relief. Do you think they'll let me go home?"

"They'll want you to write a report."

"Fuck," he groans. "What if I just run away?"

"As your current primary medical professional I wouldn't recommend it."

He huffs a laugh and lifts his head. "I guess you're right. May I use your phone? I lost mine somewhere inside but I should call this in."

The alpha obliges. "TXT are the heroes on duty tonight so your company already knows. If anything, you should call your pack."

Namjoon pauses in dialing the BigHit intel number to stare questioningly up at the doctor. "My... pack?"

"Yes, I'm sure they'll want to know what's taking you so long to come home." Dr. Zhang continues organizing equipment and carefully tapping Namjoon's skin to check his vitals, as if the beta has any idea what he's talking about. "If you rush with your report you might even be done before they come to get you."

"Ah," Namjoon struggles for something to say to that, "I don't— I don't have a pack, Dr. Zhang."

"Oh." The alpha finally stops working to look at him, a low confusion taking over his usually serene features. Namjoon understands the feeling. "Have you not accepted Bangtan's courting? I apologize, I thought it had been going well."

"What?" The beta quickly waves his hands in denial. "No. Courting? That's not—"

He cuts himself off as another medic comes to get a blanket from the stack behind him. When he looks back up to Dr. Zhang the alpha is regarding him quietly. "I understand, Namjoon-ssi," he says, his voice back to it's normal pleasant tone. "I think you should call them anyway."

Namjoon glances back at the phone in his hand, unsure. He supposes it's a good idea, since he is Bangtan's handler. He doesn't want any side effects from tonight to affect how he may be able to do his job. He considers just messaging the group chat he has with them, but honestly his hands are shaking so much he doubts he could type anything discernible. He glances at the time in the corner of the screen and calls Yoongi.

"Hello, Dr. Zhang?"

Namjoon doesn't realize the tension he's holding in his shoulders until it ebbs away at his hyung's voice. "Yoongi hyung, this is Namjoon."

"Namjoon-ah? Why are you using Dr. Zhang's phone? Are you alright?" 

"I'm fine," he reassures, "The good doctor is letting me use his phone since I lost mine."

"I thought you were in a meeting. Did something happen?"

"There— ah, there was a fire—"

"There was a fire??"

"—but we're all ok! No injuries—" Dr. Zhang gives him a look, "—well, some injuries but I'm all healed up now, I swear. It wasn't an accident. Whoever started the fire was targeting all of the handlers that would be in the building. I was just calling to let you know in case I'm busy taking care of this these next few days."

"I see. You're still at the restaurant, right?"

"Yeah, they've only barely put out the fire so we'll be heading out soon."

"Good. I'm coming to get you."

"What?" Namjoon sits up straight. "Hyung, don't do that. I'll have to come back to the tower anyways to report the incident. I'll come up and visit then."

"Don't argue with me, Joon-ah." Namjoon blinks at the omega's tone, the tension that spreads through him even at only hearing it through the tiny speaker. He listens as Yoongi takes a deep breath and there's the rustling of fabric in the background. "I just. I'm sorry. Please let me come pick you up."

Namjoon softens at the quiet plea. "Yeah. Yeah, ok hyung. I'll wait for you."

"Thank you. I'm sorry for snapping. You're still at the restaurant you had planned for, right?" At Namjoon's confirmation he offers a quick, "I'll be there soon," before hanging up. Namjoon vaguely hears another voice in the background before the call cuts.

"Thank you," he says as he hands the phone back to Dr. Zhang. "Yoongi hyung is coming to get me."

"I knew he would. I'll wait with you."

"Don't you have to check on the others?" Namjoon asks even as he moves over to give the alpha more room to sit next to him.

"I have a very capable team. Everyone else is being taken care of and they'll call for me if I'm needed."

Namjoon hums and settles into his blanket. "Thank you for your care."

"Of course."

...

They haven't been waiting a full seven minutes when a frantic "Hyung!" and the familiar beating of wings from above catches their attention and Jimin descends in front of them, Yoongi held protectively to his side. Namjoon doesn't even have time to stand to greet them – he's honestly not sure if he could, his legs still feel so weak and shaky – before he has a lap and arms full of weeping alpha. Dr. Zhang steps aside so as not to get hit by a wayward quivering wing.

"Aigoo, my sweet Jimin. Don't cry, I'm ok. See? Look at me, sweetheart. I'm ok, so please don't cry. Can you retract your wings for me?" He holds Jimin tightly and says gentle reassurances, even as he shoots Yoongi a stern look over the alpha's shoulder. "Hyung, I told you I was fine. Why is Jiminie crying like this?"

Yoongi doesn't answer right away, instead reaching over Jimin to cup Namjoon's cheek, slowly brushing his thumb over the soft skin underneath his eye. Namjoon closes his eyes and leans into the touch, still continuing to hush and comfort Jimin in his arms as the hero slowly disappears his wings. Finally, Yoongi pulls back and says, "Just after you called, Mingyu called Jeonggukie to tell him about the fire. Said that Seungcheol was hurt and that you saved him, but you took a lot of damage yourself."

"Aish," Namjoon says, pulling back to push at Jimin's shoulder. The young alpha whines but pulls away, and Namjoon lets him get just far enough to cradle his cheek and press his lips to the younger man's forehead. "I'm sorry I scared you, Jimin-ah," he murmurs against his skin, Jimin's hair tickling his lips and nose. "I promise I'm alright now. Just a little bit tired."

In his arms, Jimin relaxes against him. "Hyung," he whispers, breaking Namjoon's hold on his face to nuzzle under his jaw. "Mingyu didn't know where you were. He was so focused on his betas that by the time he remembered to check on you they couldn't find where you'd been taken." It's at this exact moment that Namjoon realizes how out of the way Dr. Zhang took him, probably in consideration of how easily overwhelmed the healer knows he gets.

He firms his hold around Jimin with one arm and reaches out to take Yoongi's wrist with the other. "I'm sorry I didn't call sooner," he says. "I didn't mean to make you worry."

"Don't apologize, Joon-ah," Yoongi sighs. He lets Namjoon hold his wrist for a moment before turning his hand so they can press their palms together, stroking his thumb over the back of his hand. "You can't help that you lost your phone." He lets the silence soak into the air before he turns to Dr. Zhang and bows. "Thank you for taking care of him."

Dr. Zhang bows back, as courteous and pleasant as ever even after witnessing what must have been an awkward reunion to him. "Namjoon-ssi is an excellent patient. He will recover well. Please make sure that he gets a good night's sleep."

"We will."

Namjoon huffs. "I told you, I'm fine."

Jimin laughs quietly against him and finally pulls away so he can stand. He keeps one hand cradling Namjoon's jaw. "Besides the phone, is there anything else that you need to replace, hyung?" His voice is back to its usual steady warmth, but his face is still a little swollen from his tears. Namjoon feels guilt well up in him at the other's concern.

"Just my wallet," he reassures. "I'll need to replace my ID's and bank cards but other than that, nothing too important."

Jimin nods and pulls out his phone to check the time. Behind him, Yoongi and Dr. Zhang are quietly speaking to each other about the fire damages and overall report. Just thinking about all the paperwork that's going to go into this incident makes Namjoon sigh and hang his head, the exhaustion catching up to him fast.

"Hyung?" Jimin calls. The hand resting against his jaw slides down to grasp his shoulder, shaking him. "What's wrong? Does something hurt? Speak to me, what happened?"

Namjoon blinks his eyes open and forces his body to sit upright. He hadn't even noticed he was swaying.

"Namjoon-ah?" Yoongi appears in front of him, crouched down to meet his eyes. "How are you feeling?"

You're pretty, Namjoon thinks, but when he opens his mouth all that comes out is, "M'tired, hyung." Yoongi searches his eyes, recognizes the truth in the words before he nods and stands again.

"Jimin-ah, how far are they?"

Jimin's hand comes up to brush through Namjoon's hair, ignoring how tacky it is with ash and sweat. "Jeonggukie and Jinnie hyung are almost here," he answers. "Jeongguk said they had to convince Hoseok to stay behind and help Tae set up the living room."

"Of course they did," Yoongi says, gruff, but his voice is colored fond.

"They're coming here?" Namjoon asks. Jimin giggles, his fingers catching on a mat in his hair.

"Of course. How did you think we were getting you home?" Jimin grins and waggles his eyebrows. "Though, I would love to fly you back."

Namjoon huffs and lets his eyes fall shut, leaning into Jimin's touch hard enough so that the alpha stops brushing through his hair and simply holds his head up. "Sounds nice, but not tonight," he murmurs. "Tomorrow?"

Above his head, Jimin coos. "Of course, hyungie. Whenever you want."

"Stop coercing him when he's too tired to pay attention."

"I'm not! He said it himself."

"Would love to fly with Jiminie," Namjoon says, half to reassure Yoongi and half because it's true. "Trust you."

"See, Yoongi hyung? My Namjoon hyung is so sweet! I would never let you fall."

Namjoon opens his eyes to look up at Jimin. The alpha's tone is mischievous but his eyes are bright and so warm.

"I know."

---

Chapter Text

Then: 

Namjoon pressed his finger against the security pad on the wall, waiting the few seconds it took to scan his prints before stepping into the elevator that lead to Bangtan's living quarters. It had been a long day – a long week, honestly – and he was looking forward to going over this last clause in the renewal contract with the heroes and then finally heading home for his two days off. It was just before when the pack usually had dinner, so he was counting on everyone to be home by now so he could make this visit as quick as possible.

He'd already messaged and confirmed with Seokjin that he was on his way, so he quietly let himself in and took a moment to toe off his shoes. He could smell dinner cooking and grimaced at his stomach's loud rumble in response. He'd stop for food on the way home.

"I'm here," he called, making his way to the kitchen. Just as he expected, Seokjin and Yoongi were cooking side by side with Jeongguk idling nearby, ready to hand them any utensils or ingredients they might need. A glance to the joined living room showed Taehyung and Hoseok leaning against each other on a couch, Taehyung dosing off while Hoseok scrolled on his phone.

"Welcome in," Seokjin said, tone even and polite. He didn't bother to turn away from the pot he was stirring but Namjoon would take what he could get. It wasn't so long ago that they wouldn't have even let him come in by himself. Jeongguk even offered him a small nod in greeting this time.

"I won't be long," Namjoon said, quickly putting his briefcase on the dining table so he could pull out his touchpad. "I just want to make sure we go over this last part of your renewal contract in detail and answer any questions you might have in person. I'll send a copy to all of your personal emails when we're done so you can make any edits on your own if you need to. Is Jimin-ssi resting? I want him to be here, too."

Jeongguk's head tilted in confusion, but before he could say anything Hoseok spoke up from his place on the couch. "Jimin's on a mission."

Namjoon paused in sorting through his files. "Excuse me?"

"Mm?" Yoongi turned away from where he'd been chopping – something, Namjoon wasn't really paying attention – to look at him. "He's on a mission. He left a couple hours ago."

"Jimin-ssi is injured," Namjoon said, like the rest of the pack didn't already know that. "He's supposed to be taking at least another four days off."

Yoongi shrugged and turned back to his cutting board. "Yeah, well. They said it wouldn't be too strenuous and should only take two days at most, including travel time."

"Who said?" Namjoon pressed, contract completely forgotten. He swiveled around so he could take everyone in. Taehyung was awake now, stretching his arms up with a huge yawn. "Who gave him the assignment?"

"Mijung-ssi," Jeongguk answered. He was watching Namjoon with his wide eyes. "She always gives us our missions."

"I always give you your missions," Namjoon said. "Has she been doing this even after I was hired?"

"Ah, well no. This is the first time."

"What's the problem?" Hoseok asked. Seokjin covered the pot of food he was working on and turned to Namjoon. "Were we supposed to tell her no?"

"Yes," Namjoon snapped, then turned back to his touchpad, angrily jabbing at the screen. "All your assignments come from me. All of them. If they don't then that means I didn't approve it, whether it be for safety reasons, scheduling issues, or otherwise. Which mission was it? Did she at least tell you that?"

"Asset retrieval in Japan," Seokjin said. "Mijung-ssi said he was only there as support if things go wrong."

"Son of a bitch," Namjoon snarled. "I denied that mission and told them to hand it to Jungwon— alright, I've sent the contract to your accounts. Look it over. I'll discuss it with you tomorrow."

"Jimin hyung won't be back tomorrow." Jeongguk pointed out.

"He'll be back tonight." Namjoon couldn't quite lose the snarl in his tone. "You said he left – what, two hours ago?"

"Give or take," Seokjin said. "Namjoon-ssi, calm down."

"No, this is unacceptable," Namjoon snapped. "Jimin-ssi is injured and they can't do that."

"We get sent out with injuries all the time," Jeongguk pointed out.

"In emergencies, yes. They had plenty of people to choose from this time and they still chose him, even though I specifically told them not to." Namjoon snapped his briefcase shut, nearly breaking the clasp with how forcefully he did it. He took a deep breath to steady himself before turning back to the pack. "Enjoy your dinner. Jimin-ssi will be back late tonight, so I will make sure he eats as well."

"You're going to go get him?" Taehyung asked.

"Apparently, since I can't trust any of these other assholes to take care of him properly," Namjoon muttered. He stormed out, just barely avoiding tripping in his haste to put on his shoes.

The elevator ride down to the main office floor was long and so he had time to seethe, even when he knew he should be calming himself down. He ignored his phone as it rang, but when it went to voicemail and instantly started ringing again he tore it out of his pocket and answered without checking the caller ID.

"Kim Namjoon speaking," he growled. He cleared his throat to try and ease the angry rumble building in his chest.

"Let me come with you."

He blinked and pulled the phone away from his ear to double check the ID.

"Taehyung-ssi? You want to come with me to yell at CEO Bang?"

"What? No." A soft laugh. Namjoon took a moment to realize he'd never heard the omega laugh before. It was a sweet sound. "Actually, maybe. You're not going to yell at Mijung-ssi?"

"She would've only been doing what she was told. I need to know who gave the order." The elevator door opened and Namjoon stepped out, only slightly more calm than when he walked in. "Where am I going that you want to come with me?"

"Ah, I see. I would like to come with you to get Jiminie."

"Oh," He paused in his walk to the CEO's office, taking a seat in one of the many chairs situated in the designated waiting areas. "Really? It should be a quick trip. A few hours at most if I can get in contact with Dr. Zhang."

"Why do you need to call Dr. Zhang?"

"He's a part of the Exo pack. If he's willing to give me Junmyeon-ssi's contact info I can ask to borrow their jet."

"What will you do if they say no?"

He shrugged. "I'll find a way. No matter what, I'm getting Jimin-ssi tonight."

There was silence on the other end of the line. Namjoon stood and continued on his way. "I'll call you after I figure things out down here. Let me know if you still want to go then."

"I'll still want to come."

"Then I'll see you soon."

He hung up and sighed, rubbing a tired hand over his face. Most of his anger had simmered out to give way to a sharp irritation. Sometimes he wished he'd taken a normal office job. Why did hero agencies always have to be so difficult?

...

"I can't believe Junmyeon-ssi let you borrow the jet," Taehyung breathed, pacing back and forth in the aisle as he took everything in. His scent was bright, genuinely curious and open in a way Namjoon hadn't ever experienced it before. He could admit it was a much nicer mode of transportation than anything Bangtan would be provided with, especially considering it was the Exo pack's private jet and not something provided by their company (who was as stingy as they could come as far as agencies went). The plush seats and soft music made it so he felt he could finally release some tension, and it certainly helped that Minseok – as Exo's self-proclaimed best pilot – had volunteered to fly them.

Namjoon hated driving. It didn't matter what the vehicle was.

"He usually does, as long as his own pack isn't in the middle of using it," he said.

"He's let you use it before?" Taehyung finally plopped down in the seat across from him, eyes still wide with wonder but scent significantly more settled now that he'd had time to observe everything he wanted to.

"Only a few times. I used to lead a team of rescue and recovery agents. Junmyeon-ssi was always gracious enough to let us use the jet when our higher ups were being difficult."

"Eh?" Taehyung's head tilted and eyes narrowed as he observed Namjoon, before a sly grin slowly lifted his lips. "Ohh, were you a bit of a rebel, Namjoon-ssi?"

"Don't use your Hindsight on me," Namjoon said, glancing down at his touchpad to gauge how much longer they'd be in the air.

"I didn't have to!" Taehyung laughed. Namjoon took a moment to appreciate the rare (or maybe not so rare?) sound again. "Why would your higher ups be difficult if you weren't doing something you weren't supposed to?" He leaned forward, face bright and more open than Namjoon had ever seen him before. "I didn't know you'd lead a team. What was it like? Did you always go against your orders?"

"I knew you never read any of the files that are sent to you," Namjoon sighed. "My entire employment history was supposed to be reviewed by your pack before we even met."

Taehyung shrugged and leaned back in his seat. "Yoongi hyung and Jin hyung usually look over everything and tell us what's important. All they said was that BigHit had hired us a new handler and that he was a beta." He let out a delighted ahaha! when he realized his chair could recline. "But really, tell me more about rescue and recovery! Was it hard? Did you get paid a lot? Did you have a good team? Why did you not listen to your superiors?"

Namjoon sighed loudly, just to see if it would make Taehyung laugh again. It did. Laughs were not a rarity with the hero after all.

"Alright, let's get this straight. I was not a rebel and I did listen to my superiors. Sometimes they were wrong though, and I had to make decisions with that in mind. Also, I had a great team, even though we didn't always see eye to eye."

Taehyung's head tilted. "I had always assumed you were the 'good soldiers follow orders' type. This is interesting news." His laugh had relaxed into a small smile. Namjoon took the time to admit that he was very handsome.

"Do you think I am a soldier, Taehyung-ssi?"

Taehyung observed him, eyes searching his face and then taking in his entirety. Namjoon made sure he appeared relaxed, like someone easy to read and carefree. Many of his missions before had been dealing in the area of the covert, where blending in and appearing insignificant and carefree were crucial, and he was almost always the perfect candidate. No one looked twice at a beta, after all.

"No," Taehyung replied slowly, like he was thinking every word carefully. "I suppose you're not. Not literally, at least. But you hold yourself like one."

"Like a soldier?"

"Like you're waiting to be attacked." Namjoon blinked. His ears felt like they had popped from the air pressure. "Like you're waiting for someone to try to take you down. Maybe you're not a soldier, Namjoon-ssi, but you hold yourself like you've seen a war."

"Aish." Namjoon waved his hand and lifted his touchpad, eyes flickering over the blank screen to make it look like he was looking over something important. He wondered if he could send a message to the cockpit to request Minseok fly faster. Jimin had been gone long enough. "In our line of work, of course we've seen terrible things."

They fell into silence after that, Namjoon pulling up the renewal contract to review for what must have been the hundredth time and Taehyung lounging in his seat. Maybe twenty minutes later, just when Namjoon was contemplating a nap, Taehyung's voice pulled him out of his musings.

"I came with you tonight because I wanted to make sure you wouldn't hurt Jiminie."

He glanced up, but the hero's seat was reclined and he was staring up at the ceiling. "I'd figured as much."

"But I didn't have to, did I?" Taehyung didn't look away from the ceiling.

Namjoon shook his head, even though the other wasn't looking. "I will do everything in my power to not bring pain or suffering to you or your pack."

"Mmh, I'm starting to actually believe that," Taehyung said. He sounded on the verge of sleep. He lifted his head to meet Namjoon's gaze. "Thank you."

Namjoon raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

"For going to get Jimin." He let his head fall back again. "We always worry when one of us has an assignment. Even the simple ones feel like mountains sometimes."

Namjoon set aside his touchpad and reclined his own chair. A nap sounded great. He stared up at the ceiling and contemplated his next words.

"There is no need for thank you's," he said into the space above him. "I'm only here for you, after all. I'm only here for Bangtan."

When he finally dozed off, he just barely noticed that Taehyung was sitting up again, watching him.

(Later, hours later, after they'd bought dinner in Japan and touched back down in Korea with Jimin in tow, Namjoon treated the two heroes to dessert. Seokjin waited in the BigHit lobby as Taehyung and Jimin said their goodbyes and made their slow way to the hall that lead to the private elevators. He waited for them to scan their ID's and move through the doors before he shoved a heavy paper bag into Namjoon's hands.

"What's this?"

"Leftovers. Wash the containers and bring them back when you're done."

Namjoon didn't even get a chance to reply before the pack alpha turned and marched back in the direction Taehyung and Jimin had disappeared.)

---

Now:

Namjoon scrolls through his checklist, carefully reading it over as he walks brusquely through the ornate entertainment hall. "Did you contact the caterers about why the drinks are running late?" he asks.

Next to him, one of BigHit's newest handlers Chaewon nods and reads over her own notes on her touchpad. "There was an unexpected power outage this morning due to the small scale villain attack in Jongno-gu so they're slightly behind on orders. They've promised to still deliver before the event and I convinced them to add extra alcohol as compensation."

"Nice," he mumbles, checking off a line and pausing to look over their printed guest list next to the hall entrance. "You're doing a great job for your first big event. Any questions?"

"Not yet," Chaewon says. She grins prettily at the praise. "Woozi-ssi called and said that SVT has already made proper adjustments at their stations. Security is all set."

"Good."

BigHit has been making arrangements for this event for the past month. Politicians and figureheads from all across the country will be here to campaign and sweet talk anyone they need to into votes and funding. For BigHit to be the agency chosen to provide security is just as big an honor as it is a headache, and as the handler with the most experience – both in the company and on the field – Namjoon has been entrusted with taking the lead. Everything must be perfect.

He checks his phone just as it pings with a message from Taehyung.

'Don't forget to relax the muscles in your face, hyung!'

Immediately he releases the tension in his eyebrows and around his mouth. Without conscious thought his shoulders drop and roll back into a more relaxed posture. The headache he's felt building over the morning eases.

Huh.

'Thank you, Taehyung-ah,' he messages back, then locks his phone and turns his attention back to his checklist.

"How's the progress on the food?" he asks Chaewon.

"Everything's arrived and being arranged and tested by the chefs. Do you want the detailed list?"

"No, I'll leave that to them." He checks off a few more points and takes one last look at the hall before making his way through the huge building to the Enhypen Heroes' assigned surveillance room.

"Jungwon-ah," he calls. The room is huge, with rows of screens lined up plus larger ones set up on one of the walls. Jungwon is standing at the front with his hero group, probably briefing them on any minor changes that may be taking place in their procedures. The younger beta turns to acknowledge him and make a gesture of wait one moment before turning back and continuing his discussion. Namjoon takes the time to walk among the rows of computer screens and check on the internal security employees.

"Sorry about that, hyung," Jungwon says as he approaches a few minutes later. "Some last minute changes to our rotation. What do you need?"

"It's alright," he reassures. "Anything I need to look at?"

Jungwon waves his hand. "No need, it's just some changes on our end. We were informed some of the catering trucks are arriving late so we've already adjusted their access codes and time."

"Great, you're doing a great job," Namjoon says. He pats Jungwon's shoulder and turns back to the large wall screens. "I'm just doing my last round of check-ins on everything before I have to go change and do Bangtan's briefing. Call me if you need anything, and don't forget to make sure everyone in Enhypen gets enough of a break to come out and show their faces to the guests."

Jungwon nods seriously – so serious for his age, Namjoon thinks, though he knows it's necessary for their work – and smiles. "I will. Thank you for checking in, hyung."

"Of course."

...

Namjoon smiles politely at the next politician he's introduced to and bows respectfully. CEO Bang has been whisking him through the crowd to meet as many people as possible, insisting that it'll be good for furthering his career even though Namjoon himself has no such plans to do so.

He takes a quick sweeping glance around the hall, taking note of the time and Wonwoo standing guard by the door. The SVT members will be rotating stations soon. Seungkwan should be next at the door. Another sweep and he locates a few Bangtan members wandering seamlessly through the sea of bodies, working covert security as best they can while having well known faces among the public.

"Relax your eyebrows, hyung. You'll get frown lines."

Namjoon blinks and turns to the man who's just appeared next to him.

"Taehyung-ah," he greets, a genuine smile instantly forming. Taehyung is wearing a stunning all red suit, his colored contacts just barely lightening the deep brown of his eyes. "You look amazing."

Taehyung's answering smile is huge and bright. "Just for you," he says with an exaggerated wink. "You look incredible yourself."

Namjoon laughs. "It's just a normal suit."

"You look incredible in those huge ratty sweatshirts you wear on your days off," Taehyung responds. He reaches forward to gently scent Namjoon by running a hand down his throat and along his collarbone. "I'm complimenting you, not your suit."

"They're not ratty," Namjoon grumbles, taking Taehyung's hand to rub his cheek against the hero's wrist. "Don't you have a job to do?"

"No one's talking about anything alarming yet. Besides, I wanted to see you. You've been meeting a lot of people. Everything ok?"

He lets go of Taehyung's hand and shrugs. "CEO Bang wants me to meet more politicians for if I want to branch out and further my career."

The corner of Taehyung's lips pull down. "You're leaving?"

"Mm? Of course not. Where would I go?"

"To 'further your career,'" Taehyung says. Namjoon can hear the quotation marks in his voice. "Is that something you want to do? You're extremely talented. You could do anything you wanted."

"It's an option I have, yes, but it's not something I'm looking to do right now." He leans forward, giving his most sincere smile. "I'm only here for Bangtan, remember?"

Taehyung blinks at him for a moment, his eyes wide, before visibly pulling himself together. "I love you," he says very seriously.

Namjoon laughs, startled and loud. "You're ridiculous," he says, warmth blooming across his cheeks.

"I'm serious," Taehyung says, still looking at him with those wide eyes. He steps forward and holds out a hand. "Dance with me, hyung?"

"You're working," Namjoon says, only mildly disapproving. He takes his hand anyway.

Taehyung grins and leads him out to the dance floor. "The others will manage for a few minutes."

"It's bad manners," Namjoon insists, even as he lets Taehyung pull him close. The omega's scent is warm and indicates contentment that only sweetens the longer they dance. Twice some politicians Namjoon doesn't remember the name of come and try to steal one of them away for a dance of their own, but each time Taehyung simply firms his hold and politely declines. "You should be socializing more," Namjoon tells him, "in case you need some powerful friends in the future."

Taehyung laughs. "That's what Jin hyung and Yoongi hyung are here for."

"What am I here for?"

Namjoon turns his head to see Yoongi slipping his way through the various couples dancing across the floor, a stunning visual in a red and black suit that compliments Taehyung's as well as the rest of Bangtan's. Namjoon takes the moment to admire him openly, loving the way he stands straight and proud even in such a public setting that the beta knows makes him uncomfortable.

"Hyung," he greets with a wave. Taehyung twirls and finally bows out of the dance, disappearing into the crowd to continue with his security while Yoongi takes his place as Namjoon's dance partner. "Taehyung was just telling me that he doesn't have to socialize because that's what you and Jin hyung are here for."

Yoongi snorts. "He's probably the most social out of all of us besides Hoseok. I don't know why he pretends otherwise." He reaches up with the hand not on Namjoon's waist and lightly touches his cheek. "You look gorgeous, Joon-ah. Have you been doing something different with your skin care?"

"You know I never leave my office these days," Namjoon says, trying and failing to fight down a pleased smile. His cheeks are so warm. There must be too many people here.

"Mmn. So this is just natural," Yoongi murmurs, brushing his thumb over a smooth dimple. "I knew it."

"Aish, you and Taehyung," Namjoon huffs. "Don't you ever get embarrassed?"

"Not when it comes to you," Yoongi says. He smiles up at him and pulls him just a little bit closer. "Anything interesting happening? Everything looks amazing and the event is running smoothly. You've done a good job, Joon-ah."

Namjoon ducks his head shyly at the praise. "Thank you, hyung," he says quietly, embarrassed but happy. "Everything is going well so far. All the hero packs are cooperating perfectly. I couldn't have done any of this without everyone's help."

"Don't downplay that they wouldn't work so well for anyone else but you," Yoongi points out. "Chaewon adores you already, and with the way Soonyoung talks about you, if he didn't already have his eye rather blatantly set on Jihoon I would have thought it was you he was planning on courting."

"Soonyoung likes Jihoon?" Namjoon blurts, surprised.

"Ah, Namjoon-ah. Soonyoungie worships the ground he walks on. You really didn't know?"

"I had no idea," he admits. "I should've given them more assignments together."

"They live together," Yoongi says wryly. "I really don't think they need any help when it comes to spending time with each other."

Namjoon grins down at him. "I guess you're right," he says. He leans in conspiratorially. "But I would've loved to see them get all dressed up and ask each other to dance."

Yoongi snorts, a loud sound that makes Namjoon feel warm and happy to pull it out of him. "You're a menace," he huffs. "I personally would like to see the way Seungcheol would find a way to stumble into a dance with Jeonghan."

Namjoon laughs at the image. "You know in the end it'd have to be Jeonghan who asks him. Cheol-ah is so shy, he doesn't even realize that the man is already head over heels for him."

Yoongi hums, a pleased sound that resonates from his chest. His eyes are warm and intense as he looks up at him. "He's just like someone else I know," he says.

"Oh?" Namjoon casts through his mind to think of who else they know who could be in the same situation. "Who? Are we talking about Soonyoung again?" He glances around, trying to come up with who it could be. Yoongi stays silent, though the warm smile never leaves his face. Namjoon almost steps on his toes while he's distracted. "Wait, I got it! Soobin, right? Do you think he'll ever notice the way the entire TXT pack looks at him?"

"I have no idea," Yoongi replies. He sounds disproportionately amused.

"I would say that we should tell him, but I don't think he'd believe it," Namjoon sighs. "I hope someday he realizes how much they love him. It's almost sad to see the way they all look at him but he never even notices."

"Almost sad, huh?" Yoongi says. He still sounds like he's hearing something hilarious. "Well maybe someday he'll figure it out. Do you think he'd believe it if they told him themselves?"

"I should hope he'd believe them," Namjoon huffs. "He has to know they'd never lie to him, especially about this."

"Yeah," Yoongi says softly. He stops them in their dance, making Namjoon almost stumble from the abrupt halt of motion. The omega's gaze flits over his face, searching for something, but Namjoon can't figure out what. "Do you know we'd never lie to you?"

"Mmn? Of course, hyung. You know I trust you." Namjoon searches his face in return, trying to see what Yoongi is obviously trying to convey. "Is there something you need to tell me?"

Yoongi watches him for a moment longer before huffing, a small smile settling over the previous concentration. "No, not right now. Soon, though." He takes a step back. "I have to get back to work."

"Thank you for dancing with me," Namjoon says, bowing with a dramatic flourish. He's pleased when it makes Yoongi laugh.

"I love dancing with you, even though you nearly tripped us at least three times." Before Namjoon can protest Yoongi reaches forward, but instead of scenting him like Namjoon was expecting he gently cups his cheek, his big hands warm against his skin. His thumb brushes once again over one of his dimples. "I'll see you after the event. Will you be coming home with us?"

Namjoon leans into the touch, just enough for Yoongi's lashes to flutter and his chest to rumble in a pleased gesture. "If that's alright with you."

"We wouldn't want you to be anywhere else but with us." Yoongi finally steps back and gives a bow of his own, though not nearly as dramatic or playful as Namjoon's. "Have fun, ok? Don't let CEO Bang introduce you to everyone. You'll get overwhelmed."

"I can take care of myself," Namjoon complains. The warmth that always blooms within his chest whenever anyone from the pack is around flares to a now-familiar emotion he can hardly contain.

He loves this man. He loves all of Bangtan. He wants to tell them how he feels and hear what they say in return.

Instead, what he says is, "I'll call you when everything is settled. Be safe, hyung."

With a last warm look, Yoongi turns and disappears into the crowd. Namjoon already misses him.

Here, he takes a moment to gather himself. He stands among this gathering of some of the most powerful people in South Korea and lets himself wonder, if only for a moment, if the pack could ever love him, too.

He hopes. He wishes. He—

Now is not the time for this, he silently berates. With a quick shake of his shoulders and conscious relaxing of his facial muscles into something pleasant and neutral, he makes his way to the kitchens to check on Chaewon.

---

Chapter Text

Then:

The call from Jeongguk came in late, just as Namjoon was nodding off on his couch.

"Hello?"

"Namjoon-ssi," Jeongguk sounded exhausted, the ending vowel dragging into a slur. Namjoon instantly was wide awake. "Are you busy?"

"No. What do you need?"

"Jin hyung's getting bad again. Can you call the doctor that helped us a few days ago?"

Namjoon cursed, rushing to pull on some clothes and grab his wallet. The entire pack, as well as half of BigHit's staff, had been attacked by a villain whose power was fundamentally a serious virus that caused extreme exhaustion and congestion in the lungs, as well as there being an unlucky few — Seokjin and Yoongi included — who were having trouble keeping food down and so had to be briefly hospitalized due to malnutrition and dehydration. Even Dr. Zhang's advanced healing abilities were doing next to nothing, but his calming presence and gentle but firm way of handling his patients had instantly made him a favorite among Bangtan.

"Yeah. Yeah, of course. I'll be there soon."

"You don't have to come."

"I'll be there," he repeated. "You're exhausted and I want to hear what Dr. Zhang will have to say. Tell me what's wrong with Seokjin-ssi."

He put the phone on speaker and listened carefully to Jeongguk's report on Seokjin's worsening condition as he gathered what he might need. There were no buses running at this hour, but on bike he could make good time if he pushed himself.

"I'll be there in less than an hour, but Dr. Zhang should be there before me," he told Jeongguk once he heard him through. "Keep an eye out for him, and I'll see you soon, okay? There's nothing to worry about, Jeongguk-ssi. It sounds like a relapse, which is worrying, but not something we can't handle."

"Yeah," Jeongguk murmured. Namjoon ached to put the worn out alpha to rest. "Yeah, okay. Thank you, Namjoon-ssi. I'm sorry for calling so late."

Namjoon sighed as he hung up and called Dr. Zhang to tell him what was going on. It had been a long hard week for everyone involved, but especially Jeongguk, who had recovered faster than anyone else and had been taking care of his pack this whole time. The poor alpha had barely been sleeping, constantly worried and watching over his packmates while they went through the worst of it.

He made a quick stop at a convenience store for some sweet snacks and other comfort foods, waving off the store worker's offer of an umbrella. The rain pelted down but cover would be useless while on a bike. He rode as fast as he dared with such low visibility, his bought goods secured to his back under his jacket. It wouldn't do to give Jeongguk soggy pastries after everything the hero had already been through.

He arrived to the tower in good time, soaking wet and shivering but still earlier than he thought he'd be. He used the long elevator ride to remove his soaked outer layers and blow some warmth into his numb fingers. When the doors finally dinged open he was as presentable as he could make himself with dripping wet hair and a plastic bag of soaked clothes in hand. He gave himself a little shake, patting his cheeks to bring some color to them. It wouldn't do to make Dr. Zhang worried that Namjoon himself would get sick as well.

He stood at the door to the pack's home, taking a deep breath before entering. The lights were dimmed to their lowest setting, just bright enough for him to see Dr. Zhang's shoes in the entrance. Namjoon removed his own and carefully stepped further in, shuffling his feet so as not to trip over anything that could be in the way. Slowly, he made his way to the kitchen to drop the food he brought onto the counter and his bag of wet clothes by the sink. Finally, he moved to door to the pack nesting room, knocking softly and pushing it open to reveal Bangtan splayed out on every available surface with Dr. Zhang kneeling over Seokjin in the center.

The doctor turned to him, nodding in greeting and gesturing subtly to Jeongguk, the only other person awake. Namjoon nodded in understanding and approached the young worried alpha.

"Hey, Jeongguk-ssi," he called gently. He reached out and brushed the back of his hand against Jeongguk's shoulder. "Hey, can you look at me?" He waited patiently for Jeongguk to get his bearings, the alpha blinking into awareness sluggishly and finally taking his eyes off Seokjin to look at Namjoon.

"Namjoon-ssi?" he murmured. "You got here fast."

"Mmh, yeah a little," Namjoon agreed. "Can you stand up for me? I want you to drink some water and hopefully eat something." Jeongguk was already shaking his head before he had finished speaking.

"Can't," he said. Namjoon frowned at the way his voice dragged, like his tongue was too heavy. "Gotta watch out for Jin hyung."

"Dr. Zhang is here, and he's going to help." He carefully took Jeongguk's wrist in his hand, keeping his hold loose so the alpha could pull away. "It's okay. We'll be right at the other side of the door." Jeongguk shook his head again, pulling his hand away and rubbing tiredly at his eyes.

"I have to stay here," he insisted. "What if something happens?"

"Nothing will happen," Dr. Zhang said now, his eyes and attention still on Seokjin. Namjoon marveled, not for the first time, at the immediate soothing air that came about from the doctor's voice. "Not while I am here, Jeongguk-ssi. You have my word."

"Come, Jeongguk-ssi," he tried again. He held out his hand. "Dr. Zhang's the best we could ask for. Your hyung will be fine. I promise."

Jeongguk sighed heavily, dropping his hands from his face to gaze at Seokjin one last time before nodding and taking Namjoon's hand. "Okay," he murmured, grunting as Namjoon pulled him up. "Okay, I'll be right back."

Dr. Zhang looked away from Seokjin to flash Namjoon a grateful smile before he finally pulled Jeongguk from the room.

Out in the main living area, Jeongguk slumped against the wall, the sigh he let out now more watery. Namjoon hovered next to him, worried but not wanting to initiate contact if it wasn't welcome. Eventually he turned and made his way to the kitchen, turning the lights to a brighter setting so he could see what he was doing as he dug through the shopping bag on the counter and produced sweet milk and a soft pastry.

"Come," he gestured to the stools lined up along one side of the kitchen island. "Sit and eat this while I make ramen."

He turned toward the stove to boil water and listened as Jeongguk settled at the counter behind him. He allowed the silence to settle and spread between them, hoping Jeongguk was letting himself decompress while chewing slowly at the soft treat. After a few minutes and carefully cracking an egg into the pot of noodles, Namjoon poured everything into a bowl and turned back to the hero maknae.

"Here," he said softly. "Eat it all, ok? And drink your milk. There's more if you want it."

Jeongguk blinked sluggishly up at him for a moment before nodding and pulling the bowl closer to himself, hunching over it. Namjoon was pleased to see that the more he ate, the more ravenous he seemed to be, eventually shoveling the food into his mouth and slurping noisily at the soup base. When his bowl was practically dry he settled back and sipped at his milk, eyes already more alert.

"Would you like some more?" Namjoon asked, to which Jeongguk shook his head.

"I have to go back to hyung," he said.

"I'd like for you to wash up first," Namjoon said, leaning back against the sink and holding his gaze seriously. "Brush your teeth and wash your face. If you can find the energy for it, a shower would be best."

"Do I stink?" Jeongguk asked, quiet and embarrassed as he took a careful whiff of himself. "I'm sorry, I haven't bathed in a few days."

"Don't apologize. You've been busy," Namjoon reassured him. "Getting washed up is for your benefit. You'll feel better after getting clean, I promise."

Jeongguk sighed that heavy sigh again and dropped his head to rest his cheek on the counter. Namjoon nudged his bowl away so he could continue to see his face. "I'm so tired," the hero whispered. Namjoon didn't know if he was supposed to hear it or not, but his heart ached all the same.

"You don't have to shower if you don't want to," he said again, resisting the urge to pet through Jeongguk's hair. "Just brushing your teeth and washing your face will help a lot. I just want you to feel a little better, Jeongguk-ssi. You can get some rest afterwards."

Jeongguk didn't move and Namjoon allowed him the moment to zone out, taking his bowl and washing the few dishes that were in the sink. He placed his bag of wet clothes in the sink to be dealt with later and turned back to him, about to encourage him to get moving so he could return to his hyung and rest but froze at the tears that were slipping silently and heavily from the hero's eyes.

"Jeongguk-ssi?" he whispered, reaching out to lightly touch Jeongguk's hair. The poor alpha was exhausted and now that he was away from his pack his emotions were flowing overwhelming him. Namjoon didn't want to make it worse, but the urge to touch and comfort was strong as he slowly rounded the counter, making sure the alpha could clearly see him even if his eyes were unfocused. "Jeongguk-ssi, can you tell me what you need?"

Jeongguk blinked hazily and slowly lifted his head, body moving as if he weighed ten times his weight. He took a moment to shakily meet Namjoon's eyes, and then it was like his tears doubled in intensity.

"I'm so tired," he repeated, and he seemed as if he should've been sobbing but his crying was silent.

Not wanting to cross any boundaries but desperate to comfort, Namjoon opened his arms and stepped closer. He'd barely moved before Jeongguk was fully wrapped around him, arms tight across his back and face buried against the beta's neck as he finally, finally sobbed on his shoulder. Namjoon gathered the maknae against him and swayed slowly, reaching up to brush a hand through his hair as he spoke lowly to him.

"There you are, it's alright. Just let it out," he murmured into his hair. He vaguely hoped his own still-wet hair wasn't dripping onto Jeongguk. "You don't have to hold it back, alpha. You've done such a good job taking care of your pack. Just let it out, it's alright."

He continued to hold the alpha, rubbing firmly between his shoulders and lightly brushing his cheek against his hair, hoping his scent could calm him down. After a few minutes – or twenty, honestly, it was a while – Jeongguk pulled himself away and rubbed at his eyes shakily.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. Namjoon shook his head.

"Don't ever apologize for that," he said firmly. "You've had a rough time. I'm glad you could cry some of it out. Do you feel better?" Jeongguk shrugged, still rubbing his eyes. "That's ok. Really, Jeongguk-ssi, don't be sorry. Are you up for washing up now?"

Jeongguk nodded, taking a shaky breath and dropping his hands to his side. "I'm gonna—" he gestured vaguely in the direction of the bathroom. Namjoon nodded and gently nudged him on his way.

He waited for the door to click shut before dropping back against the counter, rubbing tiredly at his face. He took a moment to gather himself before heading down the hall to what he knew was Jeongguk's room to see if he could get him some fresh clothes. After rummaging around in the closet and drawers to find the softest fabrics he could, he placed them outside the bathroom door and returned to the pack room.

"Dr. Zhang?" he whispered, mindful of the still sleeping pack. It was a testament to how worn out and sick they all were that they hadn't woken to the doctor's scent in their den. "How is he?" The alpha was setting up a small device on a small corner table of the room, the smell of eucalyptus spreading from it.

"A relapse, just as you said," Dr. Zhang replied softly. He finished what he was doing and turned to collect his things. "He'll benefit from the diffuser I brought, and thin soups such as miso and egg drop will be enough for now. I'm mostly concerned about hydration."

Namjoon hummed thoughtfully. "I bought some sports drinks. Will those be alright?"

The doctor nodded. "Anything that doesn't have too much sugar." He finished packing his small hand bag and gestured to the door so he and Namjoon could step out into the main living area. "How's Jeongguk-ssi?"

Namjoon nodded towards the bathroom. The clothes were no longer outside the door. "I got him to eat and wash up. Hopefully he'll be feeling good enough to rest peacefully after."

"That's good. I'm glad he called you." Dr. Zhang groaned and stretched, a yawn taking over his features. "Will you be sleeping here tonight?"

"I don't know if I'll get much sleep," Namjoon admitted, "but I will be staying. Is there anything else I should know?"

"Nothing besides what you already do," Dr. Zhang said. Just then Jeongguk stepped out wearing the clothes Namjoon had found for him. His hair was damp and his eyes were swollen and red. He was obviously still exhausted, but he looked better and refreshed. The hero's eyes settled on Dr. Zhang and widened.

"Doctor? Is everything alright?"

"Everything's fine," Dr. Zhang reassured. "I've left a diffuser in the room and some basic instructions for Namjoon-ssi. Focus on feeding Seokjin-ssi thin soups and keeping him hydrated, and he will recover well." He reached forward to squeeze Jeongguk's shoulder. "You've done a good job taking care of him, and I know you've been watching the others, too. Don't forget to take care of yourself, alright?"

Jeongguk nodded, his wide eyes looking watery again. Dr. Zhang smiled at him, soft and comforting, before nodding and stepping back. "If that's all, then I'll be leaving. Don't be afraid to call me again if you have any questions or concerns."

"I will," Jeongguk promised. "Thank you, doctor. Really."

"Of course," Dr. Zhang replied. He turned back to Namjoon. "Namjoon-ssi."

"Doctor," Namjoon bowed. "I'll show you out."

"No need. Call me if you need me."

Namjoon watched him leave, waiting for the door to shut before turning to Jeongguk. The young alpha was swaying on his feet, eyes still watery but he was visibly holding himself together.

"Do you feel better?" Namjoon asked softly, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.

Jeongguk nodded jerkily, swallowing back what were obviously more tears. "Thank you," he whispered. "You— you didn't have to come, but I didn't know what to do and I'm really glad you did."

"I barely did anything," Namjoon said. "It was all Dr. Zhang."

Jeongguk shook his head firmly. "No. I mean— yeah, but also—" he gestured vaguely. Namjoon didn't understand, but he stayed silent. "I just. I needed someone to be here, I guess. I didn't realize it until you were here, but I just really needed someone to lean on."

That familiar ache was in Namjoon's heart. "I'm glad I could help in any way at all," he said, quiet and so sincere. "I tell all of you often that I'll always be here when you call. Thank you for trusting me tonight." Jeongguk's wide eyes were so focused on him that if he were a lesser man he would've looked away. "You're a good alpha, Jeongguk-ssi. Bangtan is lucky to have you."

Jeongguk's nose twitched and his eyes once again overflowed with tears. Namjoon would've panicked if it weren't for the small smile that graced the hero's features. "And you're a good handler," he whispered wetly. "Please rest here tonight. I don't actually know how you got here, but I saw your wet clothes and it's still raining." He shuffled in place, suddenly looking shy. "I would also appreciate it if you were nearby in the morning, to help me take care of hyungs."

"I'm not leaving," Namjoon reassured. "I'll be here until they get better, or until you kick me out."

Jeongguk's smile got wider. "I'll bring you blankets. The couch is really comfortable, I promise."

"With how much I find all of you passed out on it, it had better be," Namjoon joked. He was rewarded with what was almost a laugh. "Hurry, so you can sleep with your hyungs. I'll make the soup for breakfast in the morning."

"Thank you," Jeongguk whispered again. "I really mean it, Namjoon-ssi."

Namjoon smiled, the one that almost closed his eyes and made his dimples set deep in his face. "I know. Any time. I mean it, too."

---

Now:

Namjoon wakes to a migraine pulsing against the back of his eyes, the pain a bright flare against his eyelids. He whimpers through a congested nose and sore throat as he struggles to roll onto his side, scrabbling blindly for his phone next to his pillow.

This lapse in health isn't totally unexpected. He's spent the past week and a half pushing his body and mind to his limits, losing sleep and meals to BigHit's biannual auditing period. It's a terrible time to be an office worker, with all the demands for rewritten reports and the sudden need to pull up lists of every employee and event that's ever passed through the company so that the board members can review and discuss funding and "the direction of the company in the future."

Times like this make him wish he was still a field agent. He'd never appreciated the work of his teams' managers and handlers back then.

It especially isn't helpful that he's a perpetual worrier and had taken a significant amount of his junior handlers' work loads so that they wouldn't get too overwhelmed. Soobin hadn't known well enough to realize, while Seungcheol had been suspicious of his low number of personal assignments but ultimately determined it to be because he and SVT had transferred from another hero agency and so this must simply be how easy BigHit's auditing period always is.

Namjoon could only wish.

He huffs and squints at his phone screen through teary eyes, shakily scrolling through his contacts to message the BigHit sick line that he won't be working today. The auditing period is over now, so hopefully he won't be reprimanded too badly when he returns tomorrow. After sending that he drops his phone face down to kill the glow, pressing his face into his pillow and whining low in his throat. Glaring at his screen increased the pain exponentially and he feels it as his pillow dampens with his tears.

"Fuck," he near sobs, entire body clenching against the pain and in turn somehow making it worse. "Fuck."

Time flows, he's sure, but he isn't aware of it, blacking out randomly as his pain ebbs and rises. Maybe hours or seconds into his suffering his phone pings razor-sharp through his brain with a notification that he ignores, unwilling to look at the screen again. It pings twice more with some amount of time between each before it rings with a call. He whimpers as the sound and vibration assaults his senses, praying silently for whoever is trying to contact him to give up soon so he can wallow for the rest of the day in peace. When the call ends then immediately rings again he groans and fumbles for his phone, holding it up to his ear without lifting his head.

"Hello?" he grunts, muffled through the pillow.

"Namjoon-ah?"

He whimpers quietly at the sound of Seokjin's voice, a traitorous part of him whispering 'if alpha were here he would make it all better' that he tries viciously to tamp down.

"Hyung," he murmurs, "Is everything all right?"

"You don't sound so good, Joon-ah. You called out today. Did something happen?"

"M'just tired," he whispers, turning his head so Seokjin can hear him better. "Headache. Backache. Ev'r'thing ache."

"Is the light hurting your eyes?"

In the back of his head he appreciates the way that Jin lowers his voice.

"Mhm," he hums.

"Ok. Hyung will be there soon, okay? Are you still in bed?"

"Soon?" Namjoon questions, mind processing his hyungs words through a haze of what feels like syrup. "Here soon?"

"Yeah, Joon-ah, I'm on my way now. You're still in bed, right?"

"Mhm."

"Good. That's good. You're doing so well, Joon-ah." Warmth blooms in him at the praise. "Just wait for me and try to stay relaxed, ok?"

"'Kay, hyung. Relaxed. Waiting," Namjoon slurs, dropping his phone without hanging up and burying his face back into the pillow. The pain had sky-rocketed in the middle of the phone call with the effort he made to talk and now he whines miserably, voice cracking into a sob.

Exhaustion migraines are the worst.

He continues to cry softly into his pillow, feeling no shame with there being no witnesses to his misery. Eventually he hears the beep of his door unlocking and quiet shuffling in his living room.

Alpha, that traitorous part of him whispers again, alpha's here.

The shuffling continues in the living room then makes it's way down the hall to his bedroom. His door creaks open.

"Joon-ah?" Seokjin calls softly. "Are you awake?"

He doesn't answer, but the wet sob he lets out right at that moment speaks for itself. Jin coos. Namjoon hears him come closer, the bed dipping as Seokjin sits next to his waist. A hand settles on his head, fingers gently scritching at his scalp. He whimpers and presses into the pressure, turning his head to nuzzle into his hyung's palm. Seokjin hums and cups his cheek.

"Joon-ah, can you open your eyes? Look at hyung, baby." Namjoon blinks his eyes open, squinting blearily at Seokjin's thigh before huffing and forcing himself to roll over so he can see his face. "There you are," Jin breathes. "Can you speak? Blink twice if no."

Namjoon blinks definitely more than twice.

"Ok, that's fine. I'm going to ask you some questions now." He reaches and takes Namjoon's hand in his own. "Would you like to stick to blinking to answer or would you rather squeeze my hand?"

He thinks about it for a moment then blinks, carefully counting out two.

"Good job," Seokjin says. "All right. Twice for yes and once for no. OK?"

Namjoon blinks twice again.

"Good. Do you feel nauseous?"

One blink.

"Does the light hurt your head?"

Two blinks.

"Does anywhere else hurt?"

Two blinks.

"Your back?"

Two blinks.

"Anywhere else?"

A long pause. One blink.

"Ok. Thank you for answering. Can you sit up?"

Another long pause. Two blinks.

"All right. I'm going to help you up, ok?" Namjoon huffs and whines. Seokjin laughs softly, squeezing his hand before lifting it to brush against his lips with a kiss. "You need to drink some water, baby. If you're able to do that without falling over then I'll help you with some soup."

Namjoon watches him, taking in his beautiful face and his warm scent. The longer Seokjin sits with him, the less overwhelming his pain feels and the more he feels like he can face the day while conscious. He gathers his energy and squeezes Seokjin's hand before letting it go so he can reach up and brush his knuckles against his hyung's jaw.

"Hyung," he whispers, wincing at his dry throat. "Hi."

"Hey," Seokjin answers, smiling down at him. "I'm sorry you're in pain."

"Not your fault," Namjoon rasps. "Water?"

"Yeah, let's sit you up first. I've got a bottle right here." Seokjin carefully helps him rise with an arm around his shoulders. He scoots him back until he's leaning against the headboard before turning to the bottle Namjoon has only just noticed is sitting on the nightstand. "Drink this while I warm up your soup, then I'll give you some pain meds."

Namjoon takes the bottle gratefully and takes shaky sips under Seokjin's watchful gaze. Once the alpha confirms that he can screw the cap on by himself he leaves to go warm up the food in the kitchen. Namjoon sighs and leans his head back, screwing his eyes shut against another wave of pain. It's like as soon as the alpha leaves the room he takes all the comfort with him. He groans and presses his palms against his eyes, so hard that color blooms behind his eyelids.

Come back, alpha. The voice is back, and it sounds exactly like Namjoon's. Please. He waits for a small eternity before Seokjin comes back.

"Here," the alpha says, handing him a steaming bowl. "I made sure it's not too hot. I want you to finish that, ok? Then you can rest."

Namjoon nods and takes a careful sip from the bowl, sighing as the warmth spreads through him. "Thank you, hyung. You didn't have to come."

"Hush," Seokjin says, "I want to be here. I want to take care of you." He leans in to press his forehead to Namjoon's to take his temperature. The beta inhales sharply at the close proximity, then can't stop himself from taking a deeper inhale just to get a full lungful of his scent. Seokjin pulls back just enough to look at him without going cross-eyed. "Don't worry about anything, ok? I'm here because I want to be and I won't leave until you're better."

Namjoon huffs, embarrassingly feeling his eyes water again. He blames it on his nerves frazzled from the pain. "You're so good to me," he whispers.

"It's what you deserve," Seokjin says. "You're so good, too, you know?" He leans in again and Namjoon closes his eyes in bliss as Seokjin nuzzles against his cheek and jaw, scenting him tenderly. "Eat up," he says when he pulls away again. "I want you to take your meds and sleep a little bit more."

"Yes, hyung," Namjoon breathes. Seokjin moves far enough away that he can eat without being hindered, but still stays close enough to touch.

He finishes his meal slowly, his hands shaky and his head fuzzy enough that Seokjin has to keep nudging him to eat. The alpha never complains, though. He only speaks quietly; mundane chatter that flows through Namjoon in a soothing flow that he doesn't have to focus on to understand. When his bowl is empty Seokjin takes it from him with another nuzzle to his temple.

"Good job," he murmurs against Namjoon's skin. "Here, open up for me." He presses a couple pills to Namjoon's lips as he obediently opens his mouth to accept them. He then holds the water bottle for him to drink and swallow them before helping him lay back down. "I'm going to take the bowl to the kitchen and get you more water. I'll be right back, so try to close your eyes and relax for me."

Namjoon hums and closes his eyes to obey, listening to his hyung shuffle quietly through his hallway and kitchen before coming back. Something cold is gently pressed over his eyes and he groans at the instant relief it provides from his headache.

"Does that feel good?" Seokjin asks, amused as he adjusts the wet towel over his eyes.

"Mhmm," Namjoon sighs, feeling like he's melting into liquid on his mattress. "So good."

"I'm glad. Try to get more sleep for me. I'll be here when you wake up."

Namjoon fumbles his hand around until it flops against Seokjin's wrist where he's leaning on the bed. "Hyung," he pleads quietly, "lay with me?"

There's not a moment of hesitation before he feels Seokjin climbing over him to settle on his side closest to the wall.

"Is this ok?" he asks. Namjoon huffs and wiggles closer until his shoulder is pressed to Seokjin's chest. "I don't want you to get too hot."

"Just need to be close," Namjoon whispers, embarrassed, but not even a hint of fear of rejection crosses through his mind. He knows his alpha will take care of him. "Please, hyung."

A sigh from Seokjin, exasperated but so fond, before he wraps and arm under Namjoon's back and pulls him tight against him, careful not to dislodge the cold towel. His other arm settles across his chest and his hand rests against Namjoon's jaw, thumb gently brushing against his cheek and under his ear.

"Sleep now," Seokjin murmurs against Namjoon's hair. His voice is like a lullaby. "I'm right here."

Namjoon hums, deep in his chest, and Seokjin's answering rumble feels like it vibrates the deepest parts of his soul.

He sleeps. When he wakes up, Seokjin is still there just as promised.

---

Chapter Text

Then:

After helping Jeongguk take care of his pack while they were under the villain's curse, something seemed to shift in Seokjin. Whereas before he would politely tolerate Namjoon, now he was going so far as to be what Namjoon would describe as friendly. It took two full days before the rest of the pack's fevers finally broke, and Namjoon spent that whole time at Jeongguk's beck and call. He did anything from grocery runs to sponge baths, never letting the baby alpha get overwhelmed or exhausted like he was that first night again.

A day after the pack were finally lucid, Seokjin approached him while he was folding the blankets he'd been using on the couch.

"Seokjin-ssi?" Namjoon questioned when the alpha had been standing silently for long enough to be awkward. "Is something wrong?"

"No. No, I just—" Seokjin huffed and shifted onto the balls of his feet. Namjoon had never seen him so restless in his own home. He waited patiently, turning away to unfold then refold the blankets to grant Seokjin a semblance of privacy to think.

"Namjoon-ssi."

He turned back to the alpha. "Yes, Seokjin-ssi?"

Seokjin eyed him for a moment then sighed, his usually stoic facial features softening. He bowed low, his back straight and the angle perfect. "Thank you for your care."

"What?" Namjoon yelped and leapt forward, hands flitting around Seokjin's back and head before latching onto his shoulders, trying to physically pull him up. "Seokjin-ssi, please stand up! What are you talking about?"

Despite his insistence Seokjin stayed bowed low for another long moment before standing back to his full height.

"Jeongguk told me what happened the night he called you," he said. His eyes were fixed on Namjoon's face. Namjoon realized he didn't know if he'd ever had the alpha's full attention like this outside of work meetings. It was almost overwhelming. "He told me how late it was but how fast you arrived. You only needed to call Dr. Zhang, but you went above and beyond what was expected of you."

Namjoon waved a hand in denial. "I didn't," he insisted. "Jeongguk-ssi needed help and that's what I'm here for. Really, Seokjin-ssi, thanking me in unnecessary."

Seokjin hummed. "Jeongguk told me that, too," he said. His head tilted and his shaggy hair swooped across his forehead. He never took his eyes off Namjoon. "Taehyung said the same. You never let us thank you."

Namjoon suddenly missed when the hero was nervous and didn't know what to say. "Because it's not needed," he said weakly. Really, what did Seokjin expect of him?

"Mmh. We'll work on that," Seokjin said. Namjoon could hear the smile in his voice. What was he talking about now? Work on what? "Are you done packing up?"

Namjoon blinked at the new subject and looked behind him to the folded blankets on the couch. His bag of clothes sat next to them. "Yes, I didn't come with much so this is it."

"Good. I already called a driver. They'll be waiting downstairs soon."

"Oh, thank you, but I have my bike," he said, grateful for the thought. "I'll ride home."

"So that's how you got here." Seokjin walked past him and sniffed at the bag of clothes. They were dry now, but Namjoon hadn't washed them so they smelled unpleasantly like mold. He'd have to toss them if he wasn't able to wash the smell out. "You could've done your laundry here."

He shrugged a shoulder. "I didn't think about it."

Seokjin hummed and pulled out his phone, typing for a minute before pocketing it and turning back to Namjoon. "I messaged the driving service to send a car with a bike rack. They'll take a little longer to get here. Eat with us."

"Eh?" Namjoon questioned, then shook his head and took a step back. "No really, it's ok! I don't mind riding."

"It's still raining," Seokjin said. He crossed his arms and his face set back into the harder regard that Namjoon was familiar with, but there was still that softness underneath it. Namjoon took a moment to really take in how handsome he looked, even with his shaggy hair and bedraggled clothes. "It's amazing you didn't get sick from your ride here. Please," he softened again. "Just eat with us. I don't know if I've seen you eat the entire time you've been here."

"I've eaten," Namjoon reassured. "Just not in the den or while you were awake."

"That's good," Seokjin smiled, a small one but Namjoon was still breathless with the beauty of it. "But I'll still feel better to see you eat now."

Ah, it made sense now. Seokjin was feeling better now, but being so sick had brought his alpha instincts close to the surface and Namjoon was in his home. Of course he'd want to take care of everyone he saw as in his care.

Namjoon finally relented. "Food sounds great," he said softly.

Seokjin's smile widened. It wasn't good for Namjoon's heart. "Good," he said. "I already cooked."

Namjoon sighed in defeat but his smile spread across his whole face. "It smells delicious. Thank you."

"Thank you's are unnecessary," Seokjin said, deadpan. Namjoon couldn't stop his laugh.

---

Now:

Hoseok and Seokjin were supposed to be back four days ago.

Namjoon grits his teeth as he stares at the mission review displayed on the large projector screen in the conference room. Hoseok and Seokjin had been sent on a rescue and recovery mission that on paper was one of the simpler ones. They'd been on a hundred just like it before, and were supposed to be back four days ago. Instead, the entire team they had been sent out with ceased communication and disappeared completely off the radar. Now, all they have is a message so heavily encrypted it had taken their best decoders hours to decipher it, and even then it's impossible to track back to who sent it.

Namjoon knows who it is, though.

[ We have your heroes and your team. We are willing to make a trade. Give us the asset known as RM and we will return all of your agents and your heroes in best possible health given the circumstances. Meet us at the given coordinates exactly seventy-two hours after this messaged was received with no more than three agents accompanying RM. We will know if you do not comply.

A beta asset for two heroes and their team. It is a generous trade.

We will be waiting for you, RM.

—CSH ]

CSH. Choi Sungho.

A bigoted old colleague that had never liked that Namjoon was a team leader and a beta. Sungho himself being a leader of his own team didn't matter to the alpha when there was a beta soiling their good ranks. As Namjoon gained more credibility and fame under RM's name, Sungho had gotten worse in his harassment until he had turned most of the agents in their corps against him, including agents in his own division. It had been a huge factor in why he accepted so many more missions for his team than others. He needed to constantly prove himself as a competent leader, but also his team needed a break from being "the beta's bitches" when they were between assignments.

It was a hard time for everyone involved with him. Eventually his team took on a mission that exposed Sungho (and many of his colleagues) as villain sympathizers. It was unbearable. Messy. Most of his division were forced to retire, their official career records blacked out over numerous confidentiality issues.

Choi Sungho and a few of his supporters eventually escaped the prison they were being held in with what Namjoon is almost completely sure was inside help. It had been disappointing to hear that the man who made his and the lives of many of the people who served under him so horrible had been set free, but he was never surprised. Everywhere is the same. On the ground are dirty cops. Higher up there are dirty heroes.

Somehow though, even seeing all he has and knowing what he does, Namjoon can't bring himself to turn his back on the system; on the people who are still good within it.

"RM," Jeongguk breathes in awe from his seat at the conference table. The entire available pack is present to read the message but has been silent ever since Namjoon's field identity had been revealed. "RM as in...?"

"The famed agent with the most confirmed villain kills," Yoongi says gruffly. He's been eyeing Namjoon from his spot beside him ever since CEO Bang displayed the message on the screen. "He retired a few years ago. No one beside his former corps and handlers know his real name, but he's still whispered about in every hero training facility across the globe."

Namjoon grimaces. "The numbers are exaggerated."

Yoongi raises an eyebrow. "So you don't have the most confirmed villain kills?"

"I— ah, I suppose I still do."

"Hyung," Taehyung says, sitting directly across from him, "You're amazing."

Namjoon shakes his head. "I killed a lot of people. That's not something to praise, no matter who they were."

Taehyung blinks and slinks back into his seat, looking apologetic. Next to him, Jimin reaches over and gently squeezes his arm. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

"Don't be sorry," Namjoon reassures, looking back at the screen. "I did what I had to do." His frown deepens as he stares at the coordinates. "That's exactly where the team were sent."

"Yes," CEO Bang says, minimizing the message and pulling up a map. The coordinate location is pinged so they can all see exactly where it is. "This implies that they are still in the area, but the team we sent yesterday to investigate the disappearances didn't find anything."

Jimin leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. "They probably have a Cloaker on their side. Or a Seer like Taehyungie, which would explain how they saw past Hoseok hyung's shape-shifted form."

Namjoon glances at the alpha, taking note of his posture and tension in his face. It's been a rough few days for the entire pack, worry over Hoseok and Seokjin driving them to skip meals and sleep in order to aid in the search. There's nothing they can do, however. Not without physically going out into the field themselves, which has been deemed too dangerous given the circumstances.

But Namjoon's been in the business for a long time. He knows what needs to be done.

He sighs and stands, carefully placing his note-taking devices into his bag. "We have less than thirty hours now. I'll pack some things and meet you here in two, sir." He looks up at CEO Bang, who nods and signs out of the projector. Almost immediately, the heavy scents of distress and desperation thicken to overwhelming, nearly sending Namjoon reeling back into his seat.

"What?" Jimin asks, his voice pitched high. He rises to his feet so fast his chair scrapes gratingly against the floor. "You're not actually going to trade, are you?"

Namjoon glances at him, zipping up his case and straightening miniscule wrinkles in his clothes. His hands are shaking, but he hopes the others are too distracted to notice. "There are no other options."

"Bullshit," Yoongi spits. "We don't even know if they're telling the truth!"

Namjoon sighs and leans one hand on the table, turning to put his full attention on Yoongi. "Yes you do, hyung."

Yoongi's lips curl back into a snarl, the most hostile expression he's directed at Namjoon in a long time. "Don't talk to me like that, Namjoon. How would you know?"

"Because you haven't called out the lie since you've seen the message," Namjoon says softly, tilting his head in a gesture that'll hopefully calm the omega down. "You always tell us right away if someone is lying. You know they're not."

"It doesn't matter if it's truth or not," Taehyung says, voice harsh. Namjoon almost flinches away from the same open anger on his face as well. "We're not letting you go."

CEO Bang cuts in, "In exchange for your hyungs and the entire team they were with—"

"It doesn't matter!" Yoongi snaps. He springs to his feet. The angry rumble that rips from his chest nearly makes Namjoon's knees buckle in submission. "This is not up for debate. Namjoon is not going."

"This isn't the first time we've had a situation like this," CEO Bang tries to reassure. "We have procedures for it. Namjoon will not be unprotected. He will come back safely—"

"But you can't guarantee that!" Yoongi snarls. "Don't even try to tell me you can."

Namjoon reaches out – to soothe or to argue, he's not sure – but Yoongi irritably bats his hand away. Namjoon curls his hand into a fist back at his side, desperate to make the pack understand that this is a good thing. They'd had no leads until they got this message, and it's something Namjoon is trained for.

"Hyung," he says, "You don't have to worry, ok? I'll get them back."

"But what about you?" Jeongguk presses.

At the same time, Taehyung is rising from his seat and shouting, "Hyung, you can't just—" his voice cracks and he takes a shaky breath, his jaw clenching hard enough to make the muscles in his neck strain.

His scent has an edge of panic that makes Namjoon's teeth ache, the need to soothe rising in him with a force that feels more destructive than calming. He rounds Yoongi and reaches for the youngest omega, not even fully lifting his arms before Taehyung barrels into him. He blinks in surprise when instead of burrowing into him the way he tends to, Taehyung instead grips the back of Namjoon's neck and pulls him against his shoulder and turns them, effectively hiding him from CEO Bang's calculating gaze.

"He's not going," Taehyung growls. His voice rumbles in his chest, more steady now and vibrating against Namjoon everywhere he's pressed against him. He attempts to pull his face away so he can look the omega in the eyes, but the grip on his nape tightens and readjusts his position so his face is now pressed against Taehyung's throat where his scent is strongest. He almost chokes on the lit-match and gasoline scents of fury and panic that are pouring out of the hero, but under that there is something else. Something dangerous.

"Tae," Jimin says softly from somewhere next to him. "You have to calm down. You're going into a Rage, baby."

Oh. That's what he's smelling. The beginnings of a Rage.

Namjoon blinks and slowly moves his hands from where they've been resting against Taehyung's chest to instead grip his waist. Carefully, he nuzzles against Taehyung's throat, trying his best to wrestle his own scent into something calming and gentle. With his lips pressed to the omega's skin, he murmurs, "Taehyung-ah, we're all right here, baby. Just focus on the pack. Can you do that for me? I need you to focus on us and nothing else."

He waits, continuing his gentle nuzzling until he feels Taehyung shudder and take slow, deep breaths.

"That's it," he breathes, never moving his lips from where they brush against Taehyung's throat. "Deep breaths. You're okay. You can calm down. There's nothing to fight here."

"You're not going," Taehyung whispers hoarsely. His grip on Namjoon's nape hasn't let up. "You can't. Send someone else."

"There's no one else," Namjoon says softly. "Sungho wants me. He won't release your hyungs or their team if it's anyone but me."

"What if he kills you?" That's Jeongguk, now close enough for Namjoon to feel his breath against his hair as he talks. Some shuffling, and now one of the alpha's hands presses against his back, thumb swiping back and forth and holding him steady against Taehyung. Namjoon allows his arms to wrap fully around Taehyung in a loose hold. He still hasn't been released enough to pull away.

"He won't," he promises. "He's been looking for me for too long to kill me right away."

"I know you're trying to be reassuring," Jimin says, "but you're really not helping."

Namjoon huffs. "Sorry."

After a few moments of silence where Taehyung slowly and steadily calms down, CEO Bang finally sees fit to speak. "We will take every precaution," he says. "This is not a new situation, and even though this could go many ways we are prepared for whatever may happen. Namjoon-ssi will be safe, and so will Seokjin-ssi and Hoseok-ssi."

"And their team," Namjoon says, muffled against Taehyung's skin still.

"And their team," CEO Bang affirms. "I know it's hard, but I am asking for your trust and cooperation at this time."

Silence settles over the room. Namjoon fists his hands against Taehyung's back. From behind him, Yoongi sighs.

"Can we talk this over at home?" he asks quietly. Defeat sits heavily in his scent and voice. "We won't be long."

"We have less than thirty hours, so I need you to make it less than one. Namjoon-ssi still needs to brief and prepare."

There's some shuffling from around the room, then finally Taehyung loosens his hold enough to step away from Namjoon. His hand slides from Namjoon's nape down to his wrist, thumb pressing against the tender skin there.

"Come on, hyung," Jeongguk says. His hand is still rubbing Namjoon's back. "Let's go home." Namjoon nods and shuffles out after them, turning to bow to CEO Bang even as Taehyung tugs him against his side.

The ride up the elevator to Bangtan's home is long and silent. Taehyung never releases his grip on Namjoon's wrist while Jeongguk stands close enough for their shoulders to press tight against each other. The scents of distress and anger are suffocating to his senses but he keeps himself standing upright through sheer willpower.

"I need all of you to take a deep breath," he says once he's able to shake off the buzz their scents cause in his own head. "We can't talk to each other with our emotions like this."

"Sorry," Taehyung and Jeongguk murmur. Jeongguk leans in and touches his nose to Namjoon's cheek, eyes fluttering as he takes a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing minutely. Yoongi and Jimin stand in front of them facing the elevator doors. Their rigid postures don't change, but gradually the overbearing scents of distress calm into something more easy to breathe in. By the time the doors open onto their floor Namjoon's head has cleared completely and everyone is at least a little bit calmer.

Taehyung leads him to one of the couches in the living room, plopping down so he can pull Namjoon onto his lap, chest to back and arms securely around his waist. Jeongguk drops down at their feet, leaning his forehead against Namjoon's knee. Jimin sighs and sinks into the couch across from them, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.

"We can't have a serious conversation like this," Namjoon says, attempting to slide off the omegas lap but only succeeding in wiggling in place when Taehyung refuses to let him go. Jeongguk growls irritably against his leg at the jostling.

"Yes we can," Taehyung says, face mashed against his back. "Please, hyung. Just let me hold you."

Namjoon sighs and settles back, running his fingers carefully through Jeongguk's hair and adjusting so Taehyung can comfortably hook his chin over his shoulder. "Aren't I too heavy?"

"Never," Taehyung insists. He turns his face just enough to press his nose to Namjoon's throat.

"Taehyung-ah, behave," Yoongi scolds tiredly, walking out of the kitchen with five water bottles in hand. He passes one to each of them before settling down next to Jimin, rubbing circles on the alpha's back in an effort to soothe his tense posture. "Namjoon-ah. Tell us what you're thinking. How do you feel about this situation?"

Namjoon plays absently with Jeongguk's hair as he considers his answer. How he words this is important. He is going for the trade no matter what the pack says, but he'd prefer it if they let him go without a fight.

Well — he glances down at the arms wrapped tightly around his waist — without more of a fight than they've already put up.

"I'm going. It's the right thing to do." He taps on Taehyung's hands when their grip on him gets just a little too tight. "We have no other options and not much time. Sungho is not a patient man and he's already stated his terms. If you want Jin and Hoseok back then you have to follow what he says, and you have to trust that I know what I'm doing."

"We trust you," Jimin says. He lifts his head from his hands and looks at him with tired and red-rimmed eyes. "You know we do. But that doesn't mean we're not worried for you. What if you get hurt? What if something goes wrong and Sungho takes you and then you're the one that goes missing?"

"Those are all valid concerns," Namjoon acknowledges. He plays with Taehyung's fingers, bringing the omega's hands up to his face so he can brush his nose against the knuckles. Taehyung's chest rumbles against his back at the gesture. "I won't promise that everything will go well and no one will get hurt. I can however promise that Jin and Hoseok will be returned safely."

"You really believe that?" Yoongi questions. "Jin hyung and Seok-ah will come back no matter what?"

"You know more than even me that Sungho isn't lying," Namjoon replies. "He's been very clear on what he wants, and that's me in exchange for them. Nothing else." He tilts his head just enough that his temple bumps against Taehyung's. "I know you don't like it. There are a lot of uncertainties. But if you want your pack back together, then this is the surest way we have."

"You keep ignoring yourself," Jeongguk murmurs. He raises his head to rest his chin on Namjoon's thigh. "We're worried about you, hyung. What if you get hurt? Or Sungho really takes you and we can't get you back?"

Namjoon scratches at the alpha's scalp in an attempt to appease him from what he's about to say. "It won't be your concern— yah!" He yelps and jerks away from Taehyung, nearly kneeing Jeongguk in the nose and snapping his hand up to cover the skin on his throat where the omega nipped him. The skin throbs painfully under his palm. "What?!"

Taehyung's lips twitch back into a snarl. "Wanna say that one more time for us?"

"Taehyung, behave," Yoongi snaps. Taehyung grumbles but lowers his head in submission. Namjoon allows him to pull him fully back onto his lap, warily covering the sore spot on his throat until Taehyung huffs and nips at his knuckles, much more gently than before.

"Don't be dramatic. I didn't even bite that hard."

"Yes you did," Namjoon mutters, rubbing at the stinging skin. Still, he allows Taehyung to nudge his hand out of the way and nuzzle at the little red bruise that he's sure is already forming. "What was that for?"

Jeongguk answers before Taehyung can. "You keep saying things like you're not one of us. Of course whether or not you make it back safely concerns us." He hums low in his throat and noses at Namjoon's thigh before he settles his chin on it again to look up at him with his wide eyes. "You're our pack, too."

Namjoon freezes, taking in Jeongguk's earnest eyes and waits for the alpha to realize what he's said and back track. Calling someone pack is not a lite matter, even if they're close to you. It's something that everyone involved must agree on after a lot of time together getting to know one another. It's for people who love each other; who want to be together for the rest of their lives. It's something to be decided on after a long time of trial and courting and taking care of each other through highs and lows. It's—

It's—

Oh.

Namjoon's breath hitches. He blinks through suddenly blurry vision and looks up at Yoongi and Jimin, the oldest omega and acting pack alpha in Seokjin's absence. They're both watching him carefully. Neither refute what's been said. Against his back, Taehyung breathes steadily, even as he continues to nuzzle against Namjoon's throat in a slow and thorough scenting process. Namjoon looks back down at Jeongguk.

"This is such a bad time to bring this up," he whispers.

Jeongguk grins. "But isn't it the truth?" he asks. His hand curls around Namjoon's calf. "Yoongi hyung?"

"While I do wish it was brought up at a better time," Yoongi says dryly, "Yes, Jeonggukie is telling the truth."

"Hyung," Jimin says, quiet. Namjoon tears his gaze away from Jeongguk's to meet Jimin's, the hero watching him with his brows furrowed even as a sweet smile curls his mouth. "Please tell me this isn't the first time you've realized. Surely you've known?"

"Known that— that I'm pack?" his voice cracks in the middle. He can feel Taehyung grin against his throat. "When did we decide this? Does Jin hyung know?" He jerks a little when he feels Taehyung's teeth against his skin again, but this time it's just a smile. "Tae-ah, behave."

"I am behaving," Taehyung grumbles. He raises his head so he can press his next words to Namjoon's cheek. "Hyung. Namjoon hyung, I love you."

Namjoon shivers. It's not the first time Taehyung has said it, but now Namjoon understands. "This is such a bad time," he repeats. He laces the fingers of his hand not in Jeongguk's hair with Taehyung's and kisses the knuckles. "You know that I love you, too." He glances at Yoongi, taking in the way the truth-seer observes him. "I love all of you. More than the words will ever be able to express."

"Then you have to stay," Jeongguk insists.

Namjoon shakes his head. "No, Kook-ah. I have to go." He cups the alpha's cheek, thumb swiping soothingly under his eye. "Jin hyung and Seok-ah have been gone long enough. I have to bring them home."

"You'll bring them home," Jimin says, adamant. "You'll come home with them. That's the only way we're letting you go, hyung. You have to promise you'll come home, too."

"Jimin," Namjoon whispers, imploring, "You know I can't—"

"Promise us," Yoongi says. Namjoon's jaw snaps closed with an audible clack. Yoongi knows better than to ask for promises. He knows this is not something Namjoon can guarantee. He can't really be asking this of him. "Namjoon-ah," Yoongi says, his voice pleading. He stands and walks closer so he can kneel in front of Namjoon, Jeongguk shuffling out of the way with wide eyes.

"Hyung," Namjoon breathes, "What are you doing? Stand up. Please, hyung, you know I can't promise anything."

Yoongi shakes his head and reaches up with both hands, carefully nudging Taehyung's head to the side so he can cradle Namjoon's jaw, so gentle the beta feels tears spring to his eyes. Taehyung loosens his hold around his waist so Yoongi can slowly pull him forward until their foreheads rest together, eyes closed and breathing each other in.

"Namjoon-ah," Yoongi whispers. His breath fans over Namjoon's face. "Please, love. Promise us."

Namjoon inhales shakily, his own hands coming up to grip Yoongi's wrists. "Hyung," he near-whimpers. Taehyung leans forward so he can press himself fully to his back again, the added weight pushing Yoongi and Namjoon even firmer against each other.

"I know what I'm asking," Yoongi assures. His voice shakes in a way Namjoon's never heard from him before. "I just need to hear it. I need to hear that you'll come back."

"I—" Namjoon's voice creaks in his throat. He swallows heavily. "I will try my best." His grip on Yoongi's wrist turns almost bruising. "I promise you, I'll do everything in my power to come home."

From the couch beyond them, Jimin lets out a shaky breath. Jeongguk is back, leaning his head against Namjoon's thigh. Yoongi exhales against him, tilting his head just enough so their noses brush.

"Thank you for saying it."

They all stay pressed together, Jimin watching over them for another long moment before Namjoon takes a deep breath and slowly pulls away. Taehyung and Jeongguk make low sounds of protest when he stands, but quiet down at Yoongi's chuff.

"I have to go," Namjoon says quietly. Jimin stands and approaches, his eyes dark and pained as he presses his wrist to Namjoon's throat, just over where Taehyung's scented him.

"We'll be waiting for you," the alpha says. He leans up and presses his nose to Namjoon's cheek. "I love you, hyung."

Namjoon engulfs Jimin in an embrace, burying his face in his shoulder and hoping it hides the way his whole body shakes at hearing the words and finally being able to acknowledge that they mean what he wants them to.

"I love you," he whispers, muffled against Jimin's shirt. "I'll be back."

He will. Any other option is unacceptable.

---

Chapter Text

Then: 

"When you took the position as Bangtan's handler, you were quite adamant that you would no longer be available for long missions. What changed your mind?"

Namjoon leaned forward in his chair, considering the question while eyeing CEO Bang sitting across from him. He'd invited the alpha to dinner in the hopes to ease him into the idea, but of course his boss was never one to be easily coerced.

"Seokjin-ssi's rut starts next week. Considering he hasn't had one in all the months I've been working with Bangtan, I feel it is safe to assume that his period is a rough one."

CEO Bang raised an eyebrow and took a slow sip from his wine glass. Namjoon tried not to grimace at how expensive his tab was already looking to be. 

"I don't quite see how that concerns you," Bang said.

"I'd say it concerns me quite a bit," Namjoon replied. "The pack is close, closer than any other I've ever seen. Being separated on an intense and week-long mission such as the one they've been assigned while one of them is going through a rough rut period will cause distractions and may lead to them making critical mistakes in the field." He lowered his head in submission, hoping to soften the blow of insubordination that he was dealing. "I've already rejected the assignment on their behalf. I will accept any punishment you may feel is appropriate."

"Of course you will. That was without question." CEO Bang swirled his wine glass and took another sip. His scent only had a hint of displeasure, but there was no surprise or outright irritation. Namjoon wondered if his insubordination was actually not as out of the blue as he had feared it seemed. 

It took their food being placed in front of them for CEO Bang to speak again.

"I hadn't realized that you and Bangtan had gotten close. I'm glad. It's good to have a positive relationship with your charges." 

Namjoon felt a strange ache at the words. "I'm afraid you misunderstand, sir. We're not close at all."

"Oh?" CEO Bang rubbed his chin, contemplating. "Well, no matter. I'll adjust the assignment, put you on there. Hyowon should be able to take your place as their handler for the week you're gone."

The relief that flooded Namjoon at the approval nearly took him by surprise. "Thank you, sir. I will not let you down." 

"You never have. Now, eat up. The food's getting cold. We can talk more after dinner."

...

The mission went terribly.

Namjoon's lip curled as he limped out of the tree line, one injured comrade's arm pulled over his shoulder even as his entire body blazed with pain. It had been months since he was out on the field and quite frankly, he'd forgotten what battle injuries felt like. The woman who he was assisting stumbled and groaned, her head rolling limply forward.

"Hey, hey no, look!" He huffed and patted her hip clumsily with the hand wrapped around her waist. "We're almost to the extraction point. Just stay with me until we can get you to the medics." She didn't respond. He tightened his hold and stumbled forward just a little faster.

The agent leading the extraction spotted them as they approached and ran out to meet them.

"Namjoon-ssi!" she called as she got closer, "is she critical?"

"Taeyeon," he breathed, relief a tidal wave rising in him at the sight of the alpha. From the moment they'd touched down almost six days ago, the mission had been an uphill battle. Now that Taeyeon and the rest of her unit were here to take over the mission after Namjoon and his team fulfilled their own role in the extraction, he could feel himself take his first relaxed breath in days.

"She's bleeding from her head. I can't see where exactly because of her hair," he told Taeyeon, gasping. His entire body was shaking from exhaustion. "And her right knee is swollen. She can't put any weight on it."

Taeyeon made a hand signal over her shoulder and two agents materialized behind her with a stretcher. Without a word, they took the injured agent from Namjoon's arms and lowered her onto the stretcher before de-materializing into one of the evacuation ships with a snap of her fingers.

"You and your team have done well, Namjoon-ssi," Taeyeon said, patting his shoulder. He winced when her touch brought on a flare of pain. She raised an eyebrow at his reaction and made another signal over her shoulder, materializing another pair of agents with a stretcher.

"Oh, there's no need for that," he reassured, shaking his head and taking a step back. It was a bad idea, as his leg he stepped back onto suddenly buckled and he yelped at the pain as he collapsed. One of the agents was suddenly behind him, hooking her arms under his armpits and hoisting him up with a grunt. The sudden catch and pressure on his ribs and shoulders seemed to set fire to Namjoon's body. He sucked in a breath at the pain, his eyes rolling back as he fought not to scream.

"Ma'am!" the agent holding him called to Taeyeon. Namjoon could feel the puff of her breath against his neck, but could barely hear her over the loud ringing in his ears.

"Get him inside!" Taeyeon barked. Namjoon felt a pair of hands hook under his knees and with a grunt from the agent behind him he was lifted and lowered onto the stretcher. He gasped through the white hot pain, barely able to make out Taeyeon as she leaned over him. "You've done well," she said again. "Leave the rest to me. It's time to go home."

Namjoon finally allowed the pain to take over, bright spots of agony burning through his body and across the backs of his eyelids as with a snap of Taeyeon's fingers he was teleported onto one of the extraction carriers that had been waiting for them. The feeling of a swift takeoff made his stomach drop, but then that could've been the pain meds they were already pumping him with.

When he finally felt the pain subside to a level at which he could think semi-clearly again, he gritted his teeth in an effort to force his eyes open and sit up.

"Whoa, there! Lay back down, buddy. You took a lot of damage." 

He squinted at the medic standing over him and allowed him to firmly push down on his uninjured shoulder to make him lay back again.

"Minho-ssi," he greeted blurrily, resting his head back on the thin pillow. He hoped he wasn't slurring. "The asset — Moonbyul. Where is she?"

"She's fine," Minho soothed. He leaned over Namjoon and flashed a light into both of his eyes, humming and inputting something into his datapad. "She's as injured as you'd expect, but she's faring well. Onew's taking care of her now." He flashed Namjoon a smile, reaching out a hand to let it hover over the beta's sternum before tapping more onto his datapad. With the reassurance, Namjoon finally allowed himself to relax.

After a minute of taking stock of his body, he groaned and pried his heavy eyelids open again. "So what's the damage? Am I going to die?"

Minho barked out a loud laugh and was immediately shushed by some of the medics taking care of their own patients behind him. He threw them an apologetic wave and turned back to Namjoon, the urge to laugh still pulling at the corners of his mouth. "Well, the good news is you are going to live a long and healthy life."

Namjoon sighed dramatically just to push the medic's mouth back into a grin, then winced at the pain that caused in his ribs. "And the bad news?"

"You took a lot of damage," Minho said, hovering his hand over Namjoon's body to fully take in the extent of his injuries. "Two fractured ribs. A dislocated shoulder. A broken finger. A badly sprained ankle. A twisted knee. Two bullet wounds." His hand hovered over each body part as it was listed. "You don't have a concussion, but that's more due to your amazing dumb luck than anything. You're going to have to take some time off from the office. I'm prescribing at least three weeks."

"One week."

"I said at least three weeks," Minho put his hands on his hips, looking to all the world like a disappointed and pouting big brother and not the field medic with years of experience that he was. "I've already given you less time than I want to. Don't make me lengthen it."

Namjoon huffed. He shakily held up two fingers, winking in a way he knew from experience Minho thought was cute. "Two weeks?"

"I'll call Kibum," Minho threatened. "So help me, Namjoon, I will call him right now. He'll yell at you, then you will take the six weeks that I originally wanted to give you."

Namjoon blinked then dropped his hand back onto the bed, defeated. "Three weeks it is," he sulked. "I can't believe you're using Kibum hyung against me."

Minho pouted. "Why does he get to be called hyung and not me? I'm way nicer to you than he is."

Namjoon grinned and cupped his cheek with his uninjured hand. "Minho hyung, please may I only take two weeks off?"

"That's it, you brat. I'm calling Kibum."

"No wait Minho-ssi I was just joking don't—"

...

Namjoon yawned, wincing at the way the deep breath ached in his ribs as he shuffled into his kitchen. He was six days into his enforced three week leave and honestly, he could understand Minho wanting him to take more time off. While mobility was easier with every passing day, Namjoon still felt like someone had beat him with a sledgehammer.

He whined high in his throat when he bumped into the cupboard door with his bad shoulder, shakily reaching up to retrieve his last clean coffee mug. He desperately needed to wash the dishes — and honestly just do some cleaning in general — but with the way his hands shook and his body ached with every move it was amazing he was able to keep himself clean. He sighed as he poured himself a cup and shuffled to his couch, dropping gingerly into the cushions.

He'd forgotten how ass being on leave was. He couldn't even get any light work done, seeing as Minho and Kibum had enforced a ban that got his work phone confiscated and company account temporarily locked down. CEO Bang was adamant he not do any work while out of the office, so now Namjoon had read more books than he cared to number and filled an entire journal with random musing and poetry. The few friends he would usually call on for boredom relief were either slammed with their own work loads or out of town. He didn't know how much longer he could stare at his plants before he went crazy and overwatered them or something equally as terrible.

He'd been sitting for over an hour, staring at the clock and debating if a second coffee before 7am was acceptable, when his apartment comm system buzzed. He blinked, glancing at the clock again before shrugging and forcing himself up to pour another mug. He wasn't expecting any packages so whoever was here must have rang the wrong comm.

It buzzed again.

And again. And another, much longer buzz.

Namjoon groaned and limped his way to the speaker.

"Hello?" he snapped.

"Namjoon-ssi?"

He paused, surprised, and took mental note of the day and time.

"Seokjin-ssi?" he checked, just to make sure. "Is that you?"

"So you're alive. Let me in."

"Eh?" Namjoon looked around his apartment, confusion making him slow to process. "What happened? Is everything alright? How do you know where I live?"

A long silence on the line, then, "We brought food."

Namjoon leaned his forehead against the wall, considering his options. Did something happen while he was on leave? They wouldn't show up if there wasn't an emergency. And how did they even get his address?

"Who the hell is we?" he mumbled, even as he pressed the button to allow them access to the building.

In the minute it took them to take the elevator to his floor and knock on his door he tried his best to tidy up, but there was really nothing he could do while moving as slow as he was. He sighed, groaning through the pain as he shuffled to the door and pulled it open. On the other side stood Yoongi, one hand in his pocket and the other holding a bulging plastic bag. Hoseok stood beside him with two more bags, while behind them Seokjin held a large box of takeout dishes. Namjoon blinked at them, scenting the air for any sign of distress but coming up empty.

"Ah, hello?" he greeted. "Did you, uh... need something?"

"Are you going to let us in?" Yoongi asked, shifting his bag to his other hand.

"Oh— of course!"

Namjoon stepped back as the three heroes entered his home, watching as they toed off their shoes and brushed past him to his kitchen where they all set down their burdens. He had to bite back a startled yelp when immediately after setting his box onto the counter Seokjin bounded back and crowded into his space, cupping Namjoon's face and turning it side to side, taking deep breaths as he scented the air around the beta.

"Hyung!" Hoseok yelled, "You can't just do that!" He pried Seokjin off of an unbelievably confused Namjoon, flashing him an apologetic smile. "Sorry. He's been like this ever since his rut hit. This was a rough one." He handed Seokjin off to Yoongi who proceeded to shove an entire dumpling into the head alpha's mouth.

"It's okay...?" Namjoon said, his tone raising into a question. "Is he alright?"

"Are you alright?" Yoongi asked. "You've been gone for a while."

"Just two weeks," Namjoon replied, leaning back against the wall to steady his shaky legs. "I'll be back soon."

"You don't look like you should be back soon," Seokjin said around his mouthful, stepping back in Namjoon's direction before Yoongi smoothly redirected him with a hand on his shoulder. "You look like you should take another month off." Namjoon blinked and took in the way the head alpha fidgeted in the spot Yoongi was keeping him.

"Ah," he finally registered what was happening and slowly rounded the counter and Yoongi so he could properly approach Seokjin. He'd seen this restlessness in the head alpha only twice before, both times when a member of his pack had been injured on a mission. Seokjin was a man who liked to know exactly what he was dealing with so he could better care for his pack. Namjoon wasn't sure why this attention was suddenly directed on himself, but he knew better than to question it.

Carefully, so he wouldn't trip or stumble into anything, he spun in a slow circle. "Fractured ribs. A broken finger. Twisted knee. Sprained ankle. Dislocated shoulder. Bullet wounds." He finished his slow spin and faced Seokjin head-on. "I'm expecting a full recovery as long as I follow the strict rest period that Minho-ssi gave me. There is nothing to worry about."

He waited as the three heroes took in his report, keeping his eyes on Seokjin as the head alpha took a deep breath through his nose to scent the air. A nod from Yoongi confirmed that he was telling the truth, and finally Seokjin stopped fidgeting, his shoulders relaxing and his stance losing its rigidness. Namjoon sighed, wincing once again at the pain in his ribs before he finally took in everything that they had brought with them.

"Did you really only come to check in?" he asked as he sorted through the bags. There were more grocery items than he knew what to do with as well as basic toiletries and — oddly — a small blanket that smelled heavily of the pack. "I wasn't expecting to see any of you until I got back to the office."

Hoseok leaned his elbows on the counter, tilting his head so he could look Namjoon in the eye. "You went on a week long mission and didn't inform anyone beforehand," he said, his tone neutral. Namjoon heard the accusation all the same and frowned.

"CEO Bang knew. He's the one who approved the mission. Did Hyowon-ssi not take care of you properly?"

"It's not about if we were taken of," Seokjin said. "I went into rut and suddenly we had someone checking in on us that none of us were prepared for. It was uncomfortable and could have ended badly."

"You also told us that you don't go on missions anymore," Yoongi said. He reached into one of the bags and pulled out an instant ice pack, deftly breaking it and allowing it to cool in his hands before gesturing to one of the bar stools lined along one side of the counter. "Sit down."

"Why?" Namjoon asked, taking a step back and almost falling over when he put weight too quickly on his injured knee and ankle. He yelped as he stumbled into the counter, jarring his knee and ribs in one go. Hoseok leapt forward to wrap a hand around his elbow to steady him and he hissed when the firm motion jerked at his shoulder.

"Fuck! Sorry, I'm sorry. Let's sit you down, ok?"

He allowed the alpha to guide him to a stool, settling down gingerly. "Sorry," he breathed. "I keep forgetting to be careful."

Hoseok kept a hand between his shoulder blades to hold him steady as Seokjin pushed a second stool close enough to prop Namjoon's leg on. The beta didn't know what he was expected to do so he sat still while Yoongi carefully placed an ice pack on his knee then another on his ankle, patting them to make sure they wouldn't fall off.

When all was settled once again, Seokjin sighed and leaned against the counter, rubbing at his forehead. "Someone should've been here to help take care of you," he said, irritation coloring his tone.

"I don't need a caretaker," Namjoon insisted.

"You really, really do," Yoongi said. "How have you been cooking for yourself with your mobility as it is?"

Namjoon thought back on the last week and rubbed his neck sheepishly. "I, ah, I haven't exactly been cooking."

Seokjin frowned. "You can't survive off of takeout. It's not good for you, especially when your body is healing."

"Well," Namjoon started, inordinately embarrassed, "I'm not a very good cook so I usually eat takeout anyway."

From behind him Hoseok let out a sigh. "You're no better than our young ones," he said. His hand was still on Namjoon's back, a warm and steady presence keeping him upright. Yoongi spoke before he could defend himself.

"Why did you take a mission?"

Namjoon fiddled with the ice pack on his knee, deciding on a proper response. "I decided it was the best course of action."

"And why is that?" Hoseok pushed.

"I—"

"Because I went into rut," Seokjin said. Namjoon didn't look up at him. "You've been keeping track of our cycles and somehow knew about mine. Was the mission supposed to be for me?"

"I know how to recognize signs of a cycle from all my time with my past teams. This is your first rut since I've been hired as your handler so I knew it would be a rough one. It didn't feel necessary to separate your pack for it." He drummed his fingers against his thigh. "The mission was Hoseok-ssi's. I have extensive experience with asset retrieval so this felt like the right thing to do."

A sigh from behind him, then Hoseok's hand patted his back before the alpha pulled away to crouch in front of Namjoon, bringing them eye to eye.

"You didn't have to do that," he said. "We go on missions during each other's mating cycles all the time. Yes, Jin hyung's tend to be more intense than the rest of ours, but it's something we've been dealing with for years."

"If I can do anything to make your lives easier," Namjoon insisted, "then I will. That's what I'm here for."

"You're here to make sure we're not being mistreated by BigHit and don't do anything that'll be a PR nightmare," Seokjin said. "You are not here to take our missions."

"Seokjin-ssi—"

"You got hurt," Yoongi cut in. "This may have been what you did before, but you are an office worker now. You are our handler. You're supposed to be here, with us." He reached forward, hesitating for only a moment before resting his hand on Namjoon's foot just below the ice pack. "We didn't know where you were, only that you'd accepted your own mission. Everyone thought you quit without notice."

"I would never!"

"So tell us," Seokjin emphasized. "Communicate. You've never had a problem with this before, so I don't understand what happened here."

Namjoon huffed. "I didn't think it was important. It shouldn't have affected your personal schedules at all."

"You've been gone for two weeks," Hoseok said, "and now we're finding out that you were seriously injured—"

"It's not that serious—"

"—and no one told us, including you."

Namjoon let the silence draw out, having nothing to say in response. He truly hadn't thought this was something they'd want to know about, especially since Hyowon had been instructed to bother them as little as possible. If anything, he didn't think they'd notice until Seokjin's rut was over and they were assigned another mission.

After a long moment, Yoongi sighed and pat Namjoon's ankle, almost like consolation. "Do you even know why we came today?"

Namjoon frowned in thought. "To make sure I didn't quit? I don't even know how you got my address."

Seokjin snorted. "No one can say no to Jimin, not even the HR team. He asked the right person and here we are."

"That can't be safe," Namjoon mumbled.

"No, it's not," Seokjin smiled, "but it worked in our favor so I won't complain."

Namjoon blinked up at the alpha's smiling face, momentarily awestruck, before shaking his head. "So why are you all here then?" he asked.

Yoongi huffed a laugh and turned away to pull out the blanket Namjoon had been eyeballing earlier. "Seokjin's rut hit hard. It always does, so we didn't think much of it." He neatly unfolded it and brushed off some lint. "We started to worry, however, when he got more restless than usual. We could barely handle him. Almost nothing was working. He just wouldn't settle." He seemed satisfied with whatever he was brushing off and handed the blanket to Seokjin. "Guess what got him to finally drop fully into his rut space?"

Namjoon eyed the blanket in Seokjin's hands. "What?"

Seokjin rubbed a hand over his face in a gesture Namjoon recognized as embarrassed. "The promise that we could come find you as soon as the rut was over."

Namjoon blinked, not fully understanding. "What?" he repeated.

"We see you everyday," Hoseok said. "Usually for hours at a time, and almost always in our own home. Seokjin's rut has always been more protective than sexual, so suddenly losing someone that he is used to having as part of his daily routine really got to him, even though none of us realized at first."

"Wait," Namjoon said, "You said you'd find me once your rut ended."

Seokjin nodded, kneading at the blanket in his hands. "I finally came out of it yesterday. It lasted eight days."

"Eight days?" Namjoon yelped, moving to stand. Hoseok gently pressed on his shoulder to keep him seated. "Seokjin-ssi! You should still be resting! This visit couldn't have waited?"

"I told you, I only got through with the promise of seeing you afterward," Seokjin said. He stepped forward and held the blanket out, his head bowed so Namjoon couldn't see his eyes. "I would appreciate if you'd use this for the next week or so, just until I'm truly out of the post-rut period."

Namjoon stared, his heart pounding as he considered all he'd been told. Slowly, he took the blanket, laying it across his lap carefully so he wouldn't dislodge the ice packs.

"I can do that," he said finally. "I'll wash it before I give it back."

"You don't have to," Hoseok said. "Really, just keep it for now and we'll get it back soon."

Yoongi snorted, mumbling something under his breath that Namjoon couldn't catch.

"What did you say?" he asked.

"Nothing," Yoongi said cheerily. "By the way, would you rather stay here or at the tower?"

"Eh?" Namjoon, Hoseok, and Seokjin questioned at the same time before turning to each other in confusion.

"Where would you rather stay?" Yoongi repeated, looking inordinately amused, "because once Tae and Jiminie find out about your condition they're going to insist they take care of you, and wherever they go Jeonggukkie follows. So! Would you rather they take care of you here or at home in the tower?"

"I- what?" Namjoon sputtered. "I don't need anyone to take care of me."

"We've already established that you do," Seokjin said, finally understanding and joining in on Yoongi's glee. "The young ones are attached to you—"

Hoseok cut in with a cackle, "And so is Jin hyung!"

"—and you need someone who will cook and help you clean and get what you need. So we'll do it."

"You will?" Namjoon questioned, a little high pitched. "But—"

"How long is your leave?" Yoongi asked. His tone was teasing, but when Namjoon met his eyes his smile was small and warmer than the beta had ever seen it.

"Uh. Another two weeks."

"Perfect," Yoongi said. "CEO Bang has already offered to give Jin hyung and the young ones the same amount of time for extra leave."

Namjoon gaped, processing, before he cursed under his breath. "Bastard. He knew you were coming and he's been trying to send someone to take care of me anyways."

"A win-win, if I do say so myself," Seokjin grinned. "So what do you say? Here or the tower?"

Namjoon cursed again. "There's no way to talk you out of this?"

"Afraid not."

Namjoon sighed. "Here, then. Going to the tower will take more energy than I have right now."

Immediately, the teasing atmosphere from the three heroes softened.

"Are you tired?" Hoseok asked. "I can help you to the couch."

"I'm fine," Namjoon promised. "Just. Really don't want to move right now."

"I'll make breakfast," Seokjin said and then immediately was a whirlwind of movement. Yoongi sighed, long suffering and fond, and stepped out of the way.

"Like we said earlier, Jin hyung's ruts are more protective than sexual," he explained lowly. "His post rut period tends to lean towards him being a mother hen. I'm sorry if this is overwhelming."

"No need to apologize," Namjoon said, accepting his fate somewhat gracefully and leaning against the counter to watch Seokjin work. He smoothed his hand over the blanket on his lap. "This is— it's really nice. I've never had anyone take care of me before. I'm sure it'll feel like a lot soon, but for now there's nothing I can do about it anyways so I might as well enjoy it."

Yoongi hummed and dug through a bag to hand Namjoon a wrapped pastry. He accepted it gratefully. "I'm being serious. If it gets to be too much then you can tell us to back off. We're not trying to be overbearing. This rut period was just. A lot. For all of us."

"I believe you," Namjoon promised. "And really. This is fine. I was just thinking about how bored I was before you showed up." He grinned and held up the pastry. "Thank you for your care, Yoongi-ssi."

Yoongi's gaze stayed on Namjoon's face, flicking to each feature before settling on his eyes. "Hyung," he said quietly. "Call me hyung."

"Oh," Namjoon blinked up at him, stunned, before smiling shyly, a slow warmth blooming in his chest. "Yoongi hyung. Thank you for your care."

Yoongi smiled back, a full one that showed his teeth and gums. Namjoon didn't know how he'd never realized how sweet the omega could look.

"Any time, Namjoon-ah."

---

Chapter Text

---

Now:

There's a thing about reputation that many seem to forget: It's often only one small part of a whole.

Namjoon hadn't wanted the Bangtan pack to know he used to be RM; is still RM. Aside from his exceptional leadership skills, it's not a reputation he's particularly proud of. He wasn't lying when he told Taehyung that his kill count isn't something to be celebrated. There were deaths on both sides of every conflict he was part of and every single one should be treated with the respect that dying in the line of duty demands.

When he was forced to retire, Namjoon swore to himself that he'd be different now. Softer. Strong and immovable still, but this time in a way that would bring himself peace. He hasn't killed anyone in years.

That being said, as the carrier that takes him to the designated meeting spot lands, Namjoon takes a deep breath and reaches inside of himself for a force of intent that he hasn't utilized in years, and he knows one thing:

He's going to kill Choi Sungho.

...

The meeting place is a helipad just outside of Osaka, the exact one that Seokjin's and Hoseok's team had been dropped off on nearly a week prior. When Namjoon steps out of the carrier and takes in the scene in front of him, an old rage that he no longer has practice containing starts to simmer in his core.

Choi Sungho's entourage is at least fifteen people strong. At the front and center of their little group formation is Seokjin with a split lip and one eye swollen completely shut, Hoseok slumped against his side. One of the Hoseok's shoulders is wrapped to cover a wound, but even as Namjoon watches blood continues to seep through and spread across the white gauze. His entire face looks like it's one giant bruise. Namjoon's not sure he's even conscious.

He stands still and takes everything in. That old rage continues to simmer and build into a rolling boil, heating him from the inside and climbing up his throat. Tonight will not end well for Choi's people. Namjoon braces himself for what that means for him.

"Oh, Namjoonie! It's good of you to join us!"

Sungho's voice rings across the pad, loud and just as grating as Namjoon remembers. The group parts and the man himself walks forward, head high and gait as dramatically villainous as ever. He's huge, bigger than the last time Namjoon had seen him and he'd been considered a mammoth of a man even then. He's a whole head taller than everyone in his posse with shoulders so wide one would question how he walks through doors. He bumps one of those massive shoulders against Seokjin and sends him stumbling to his knees under the weight of Hoseok — now obviously unconscious — and whatever other injuries he has that Namjoon can't see.

The rage in Namjoon's throat boils over his tongue.

"Choi Sungho," he says, and it sounds to all the world like an alpha at the height of their Rage. He feels vicious satisfaction at the shiver he can see run through some of Choi's men; men that have followed the villain long enough for them to have first hand experience with Namjoon.

I remember you, a dark, fiercely damaged corner of himself that he hasn't acknowledged in a long time whispers into the space between all of them. I know your faces. I know your weaknesses. You shouldn't have let me see you again.

"Where is the team?" he says out loud. "The deal was for everyone."

Sungho grins, an ugly gesture dripping with malice. "Do you think I'm stupid, Kim? We tie you up first, then complete the trade. For now you can have the heroes, then after we have you the rest of the team will be given."

"What?" Seokjin, still kneeling and who up to this point seemed to be focused entirely on not collapsing, raises his head to look at Namjoon. His voice sounds like there's sandpaper in his throat. "Trade? Namjoon-ah, what's going on?"

"Dr. Zhang is in the carrier, hyung," Namjoon says instead of answering, gentling his anger when he speaks to him. "Everything's going to be fine. He'll take care of you." He walks forward, steady and with the type of deliberately open body language that has won him wars. Sungho doesn't stop him from reaching out for Seokjin. "Come on, hyung. Can you stand?"

Seokjin must be concussed. He blinks slowly up at Namjoon when he stands right in front of him and still doesn't speak even as he's hauled up — still gripping Hoseok to his side — so Namjoon can wrap his arms around both of them and hold them awkwardly to his chest.

"I need you to use your legs," Namjoon tells him once they're face to face. Seokjin continues to stare at him before nodding and settling more firmly on his wobbly legs so Namjoon is able to step back and hook an arm behind Hoseok's knees and brace his other against his back, pulling him into a bridal carry. Without the extra weight of his packmate, Seokjin nearly overbalances and Namjoon has to step to his side and nudge him with his shoulder so he doesn't fall over again. "You okay, hyung? Need to get on my back?" He eyes Sungho where he stands not a full meter away from them, that hideous grin still on his face.

It takes another moment of Seokjin processing his question before he shakes his head. "I'm alright," he rasps. Speaking sounds like it hurts him. "Hoseok needs Dr. Zhang right now. What trade is he talking about?"

"You both need Dr. Zhang," Namjoon says. He wants to scent Seokjin, wants to pull him close and hide him and Hoseok away forever where nothing will ever hurt them again, but he refuses to show that kind of vulnerability around Sungho and his people. "Come on, let's get you both to the carrier."

"Namjoon," Seokjin says, and past the way his voice sounds like his vocal chords are on the verge of collapse — they must've made him scream for hours, that dark and mutilated voice inside him whispers, every single one of them will die for this — there's an urgency that Namjoon has to fight to ignore. "Do not ignore me. What is this trade?"

"It's nothing you have to worry about," he says softly. His hands are occupied so he uses Hoseok to nudge Seokjin in the direction of the carrier where Dr. Zhang is standing at the door. "Let the good doctor check you over and—"

"Oh, didn't I tell you, little hero?" Sungho cuts in. His voice makes Namjoon want to rip his own skin off. "In order to get you and your team back, BigHIt has graciously agreed to give me the elusive Kim Namjoon."

"What?" Seokjin whips his head around to look at Sungho, then Namjoon. His gaze is much more alert than it was not even a minute ago. "What do you mean? Namjoon-ah, what is he saying?"

"It's nothing for you to worry about," Namjoon repeats. Seokjin's more aware now, but he's still easy to guide forward until they're close enough to Dr. Zhang for the man to reach out and begin to pull him into the carrier. "Just let Dr. Zhang heal you."

"Hello, Seokjin-ssi," Dr. Zhang says, his ever-present smile in place. "It's good to see you're alive. That's something I can work with." His soft tone is lost on Seokjin, who even as he's pulled forward doesn't take his eyes off of Namjoon.

"Don't do it," he says, dead serious and previous slur gone. "Namjoon-ah, whatever's going on, you don't have to do it."

They step fully into the carrier and out of view of Choi Sungho and Namjoon relaxes just marginally. He finally allows himself to lean down and brush his nose over Hoseok's forehead before he places him carefully into Junmyeon's — Dr. Zhang's alpha — arms, then steps forward to rub his cheek against Seokjin's. They both smell overwhelmingly of their own blood and pain and the hands of the bastards that hurt them.

"I'll be right back," he says — hopes. "Don't worry about anything and please let Dr. Zhang work on you." When he goes to pull back Seokjin reaches up and grips his shirt just over where his heart is hammering in his chest, pulling him back in and forcing Namjoon to look him in the eye.

"Namjoon-ah," he says. His tone has an edge to it that makes Namjoon want to cringe and bow in deference. "Don't. Please, whatever trade they're talking about — you don't have to, okay? We'll figure something out."

Namjoon takes his hand that's gripping his shirt and carefully uncurls his fingers, gently rubbing them and taking note of the blood on his knuckles and under his nails. Both of their hands are shaking, but for different reasons.

"Jin hyung," he says quietly, mindful of Dr. Zhang still holding Seokjin up while doing his best to act like he's not listening in. "I have to get your team, but I'll be right back, alright?" Seokjin's shaking his head before Namjoon even finishes talking. "Yes, hyung. They need to come home. You've all been gone long enough."

"We'll find another way," Seokjin says. He tries to grab for Namjoon's shirt again, but he's weakened and injured and Namjoon simply weaves their fingers together to stop him. "I'm serious. Dr. Zhang, stop him!"

"I'm afraid I can't do that," Dr. Zhang says. He looks at Namjoon, who gives him a firm nod. He begins pulling Seokjin away.

"What? No, stop!" Seokjin struggles against Dr. Zhang's hold, snarling and kicking as the healer practically drags him away. He's the comic book definition of a hero, with enhanced strength and all, but whatever Sungho's done to him these past few days has weakened him significantly and he's nowhere near strong enough to break Dr. Zhang's hold. Namjoon's heart pangs in his chest watching him, and he turns away, back to the door of the carrier. "Namjoon! Namjoon! Come back! Hoseok-ah, wake up! Namjoon, stop! Someone stop him!"

On the gurney where Junmyeon layed Hoseok, he doesn't so much as twitch. Namjoon's resolve hardens. Sungho must pay for this — for everything. For all the comrades that Namjoon lost because of him, for the months it had taken for him to sleep through a whole night without flinching at every single sound within his own home; for the way that he still has trouble getting through his daily life without fighting to prove himself at every turn. Namjoon will make sure that Sungho will never hurt him or anyone else ever again. He takes another step towards the door, but Seokjin calls to him again and this time his tone stops him.

"Namjoon-ah," Seokjin pleads. Namjoon looks over his shoulder to see him slumped in Dr. Zhang's arms, all fight and energy having left his body. "At least let me come with you."

Namjoon aches. He knows what he needs to do. This is the only way, and yet he also knows he can't do this. He can't walk away from the man that he wants to be his alpha. Not when he's thrown away all his pride to beg like this, not without at least—

He turns and strides purposefully back to Seokjin. He cradles his alpha's face in his hands, lifting his head so he can look Namjoon in the eye. Then, Namjoon leans in and kisses him, just on the corner of his mouth, but it's enough. It has to be.

He pulls back after a few seconds to see Seokjin's functioning eye blown wide. "Seokjin hyung," he says softly. "I love you. Please, please remember that."

It's an obvious goodbye, but not in the way Seokjin thinks it is. Namjoon will come back.

He just doesn't know if Bangtan will still want him after he does.

Seokjin blinks up at him, frozen in shock before his lips curl back and a snarl rips from his chest. "If you think I'm letting you go after that," he growls, "you are very wrong."

Namjoon huffs a soft laugh. "I'm sorry, hyung," he whispers. He looks up at Dr. Zhang and says, "Hold him tight," then rips himself away from the grip Seokjin's re-established on his shirt.

Seokjin starts thrashing again, his yells to Namjoon all but incomprehensible as what almost seems like a Rage takes over him. Namjoon nearly sprints to Hoseok's gurney so he can brush their cheeks together, just one last quick intake of the alpha's scent, before he shakes himself off, sends a grateful nod to Junmyeon, and exits the carrier to the sounds of Seokjin's screams.

...

Sungho's men tie Namjoon's arms together in front of him, the rope wrapping all the way from his wrists to his elbows. When they present him to Sungho, the man sneers and orders one of his men — Siwon, Namjoon knows; he's been Sungho's right hand man for years — to use his power to blind him, too. Once he's secured, they throw him onto someone's shoulder roughly enough to leave him winded. There's a familiar whoosh that he hears more than he feels and suddenly the temperature drops, the sounds of the wind blowing across the helipad are gone, and the air around them is inexplicably wetter.

They've teleported.

Namjoon wheezes when the person carrying him digs their shoulder into his gut. He takes the opportunity to take a deep breath through his nose, cataloguing the scents and sounds around them to build the image of where they are in his mind's eye.

Damp. Large enclosed space. No other sounds beside the breathing of himself, the person carrying him, and a few others standing on the edges of the space.

Jesus, did Sungho do a villain cliche and take Namjoon to an abandoned warehouse?

He hisses through his teeth when he's dumped onto the ground — smooth, cold cement — and gets the breath knocked out of him once again.

"God, Haeun," he growls, "Go easy on me. I'm older than you." Haeun freezes in place a few steps away from him.

"How'd you know it was me?" She asks, wary.

"Did you think I'd forget your scent?" he responds. "I'm hurt. We used to spend so much time together before you let Sungho get in your head." He shuffles a little so he can sit up with his legs folded Indian style and lean against the cement wall behind him. "Has your teleportation range increased? Or is it still just a kilometer or so? We must be pretty close to the drop point."

He hears the whoosh of an arm through the air before a bright burst of pain explodes from where Haeun's fist connects with his jaw.

"You always were so high and mighty," she snarls, right in front of his face. "Always so condescending and ignorant of anyone else around you, like you're anything more than just beta trash."

"Wow," Namjoon comments wryly. "Are you in the middle of your rut? This is why alphas shouldn't be let on the field. You're all too emotional." This time he's prepared for the punch that slams him in the eye.

"I'd kill you, but that's a joy only Sungho will experience," Haeun growls. She stands and walks away from him, her steps heavy. She always was a mountain of a woman, even when she was still one of Namjoon's trainees. "Luckily, he's offered to let some of us rotate in spending some quality time with you. I hope you're ready. There are a lot of people with grudges lined up to bring you as much pain as possible."

"That's generous of him," Namjoon says. 

"Smug bastard," Haeun spits.

Namjoon hears that soft whoosh again, the one that signifies Haeun's teleported, and focuses once more on his surroundings.

He clicks his tongue twice. Waits a few seconds, then does it again. He hasn't actively done this outside of his own dark home in years, but still—

An almost completely metal and cement room, but not as big as he'd thought. If it's a warehouse, they're not in the large main area. They've made this easy for him.

He clicks his tongue again; feels the feedback as pressure on his spine more than he hears it with his ears.

A single wide metal beam in the center of the room, most likely for structural integrity. Three guards standing along the wall opposite him. That must be where the door is. He sniffs. Two omegas and one alpha.

Another two clicks.

A chair and a table on the wall just a couple meters from Namjoon. No windows. There's nothing else in this room.

"Hey, shut up over there," One of his guards snaps. Namjoon tilts his head.

"I didn't say anything," he says softly. He grunts as he hoists himself up to standing.

"Hey!" The same guard yells. He strides forward and fists Namjoon's shirt right over his chest, the same part Seokjin grabbed when he was trying to get him to stay. He's about the same height as Namjoon. "Stop moving, asshole, or I'll put a bullet in your shoulder, just like I did that shifter hero."

"Beomseok, that's enough," says one of the other guards. "Sungho told us not to touch him until he's chained down. Back up. We don't know why he said that but a lot of the guys here are scared of him."

"Shut up, Yujun," Beomseok snaps over his shoulder. He leans close enough for every word to be breathed right on top of Namjoon's nose. "Those bastards say you're a legend, but I see nothing more than a blind and ragged beta. What are you gonna do, huh?"

Namjoon hmms and doesn't fight his grip. "Beomseok, was it?" he asks softly. "You said you shot Hoseok?"

"Oh was that his name?" Namjoon can hear his nasty sneer. "I tried to ask, but then again I couldn't really get any answers out of him or the other hero when they just kept screaming."

"Beomseok," Yujun calls again, exasperated. "For once, can't you control yourself?"

"Leave him, Yujun," says the third and final guard. "If Sungho gets on him for provoking the beta then that's on him. Besides, what's the guy gonna do? They even used Siwon to blind him."

Namjoon ignores the other two guards for now and zeroes back in on Beomseok.

"Hey," he says softly, teasing. "Why don't you untie me? I'd really appreciate it."

Beomseok snorts and shoves Namjoon back hard enough for his head to slam against the wall and flash stars across the back of his eyelids.

"Are you actually stupid?" Beomseok snaps. He's still sneering. "Now shut the fuck up while we wait for Sungho to finish transferring the rest of the hero team. He should be back soon, and then we'll finally get to have some fun." He leaves Namjoon leaning against the wall and turns and makes his way back to where he was standing originally.

He's just in time, too. As soon as he's standing back in line with the other two guards, the soft whoosh of Haeun's teleportation floats through the air and Sungho's gratingly loud laugh echoes in the room.

"A perfect trade!" He yells. "I knew you'd see things my way, Namjoon-ah. You always were too soft."

Namjoon takes a deep breath and relishes in the hot killing intent that heats his very soul. "What will you do to me, Sungho?"

"Just what I should've done years ago." Sungho comes to stand in front of Namjoon and grips his jaw in one meaty hand, feeling like he's just shy of crushing it. "I'm going to put you in your place, and then I'll let my people have a little fun with you, and then I'll kill you." His last two words seem to fill the air with acid. Namjoon curls his lip in distaste.

"My my my, you sure hold a grudge," he murmurs, just barely able to speak past Sungho's grip. "You seem to have a few new hires, though. Do they have some sort of vendetta against me, too?"

Sungho finally lets go of Namjoon's jaw and roughly pats his cheek twice. "Don't worry too much about that. Most of your old friends are actually right outside this room. As soon as they get the go-ahead, they'll give you a nice warm welcome-back party."

So that's where everyone is. "I can't wait." Namjoon says pleasantly. "Speaking of 'right outside', where are we, exactly?"

"Don't think you can ask anything here," Sungho scoffs. "Where we are doesn't concern you. All you have to do," he pats Namjoon's cheek again condescendingly, "is sit still and scream as loud as you can."

Namjoon perks up as best he can at that. "Oh, that's actually something I wanted to talk to you about!" he says brightly. "I understand why you've tied me up like this, but I have a few pointers to give, if you'll take them."

"Oh yeah?" Sungho growls, leaning down so he and Namjoon are practically nose to nose. Perfect. "Patronizing little asshole. What pointers would those be?"

"You should've blinded me before I saw the damage done to Seokjin and Hoseok," Namjoon says, then finally allows that rage that's been boiling in his chest — on his tongue — to bleed into the rest of him, heating his body with an old burn that he's never wanted to admit that he's missed. He doesn't stop the way his face contorts, the ugly and cruel snarl that twists his mouth until he knows he looks closer to animal than human. He bares his teeth. "And, most importantly—" he runs his tongue from one canine to the other, "— you should've gagged me."

And he lunges.

...

There's a thing about reputation that many seem to forget: It's often only one small part of a whole.

These days Namjoon — no, RM — is revered as an outstanding team leader who covered missions that went down in history as brutal and tide-turning. He was the type of leader that everyone in hero training facilities still aspire to be; smart, calculating, strong, cool-headed. Stories of his enduring kindness and firm hand and fair treatment are told to this day.

No one ever talks about this.

Namjoon, his teeth sunken into Sungho's jugular, locking his jaw and ripping his head back and relishing in the hot spray of blood that follows him.

Namjoon, bouncing off the wall from the force of how hard he'd pulled back and falling forward to land steadily on his still bound-together hands, heels braced against the wall and knees bent, poised to push off and strike.

Sungho, gurgling and screaming in front of him, close enough that the blood pooling around him takes almost no time to reach Namjoon's fingers.

Haeun, leaping forward to — do what? Stop the bleeding? Namjoon spits the flesh in his mouth out and grins, and uses her panicked shrieks to locate her throat and do it again.

Teeth. Jugular. Rip.

The thing about RM that his strangely positive reputation leaves out:

He's a monster.

The other guards are yelling now. Namjoon abandons Haeun's still writhing body and stands to his full height, ignoring her as she weakly claws at his legs. He tilts his head.

"You crazy bastard!" Beomseok screeches. "What did you— what did you do?" Namjoon clicks his tongue and darts out of the way of the fist swiping at his head, then bends and kicks his leg out, striking his attacker in the knee. There's a crack and whichever guard it is — Yujun, by the sound of her screams — falls.

He stays low and dashes forward on his hands and feet; a three-legged hell hound with the blood of its prey dribbling from its teeth. He clicks his tongue twice and feels the softness of feedback behind one of his eyebrows, shifts just barely to his left and then lunges forward, tackling Beomseok's solid body at the hips and taking him down. They both snarl as they struggle, Beomseok elbowing Namjoon in the nose with a loud crunch and adding more blood to the sticky, slick mess on his face. Namjoon thrashes and wriggles his way up the guard's body until they're face to face, then — just to be mean — spits a bloody glob into his face.

Beomseok bellows in rage and slams his hands against Namjoon's shoulders and bucks to throw him off but Namjoon has both fists in his shirt and refuses to let go. Before he can move forward and do exactly to Beomseok what he's done to Haeun and Sungho, someone grips his hair and yanks him back. Namjoon yelps and locks his knees against Beomseok's hips, refusing to be moved too far away. The person holding his hair — the third guard — uses their grip on him to hold him still and slam a fist against his temple.

Stars burst against the back of his eyelids. He snarls and lifts his arms high, abandoning Beomseok and jerking his body back so he's close enough to reach over his head and grab the other guard's neck just below his jaw. With a heave, Namjoon pulls with all his might and throws the guard forward over his head. The guard yells in surprise and lets go of Namjoon's hair, sprawling on top of Beomseok. Before they have time to right themselves, Namjoon scrambles up over the guards back, gets as good a grip as he can on their head with his hands tied, and twists until he hears the crack of a broken neck.

Pinned beneath the both of them, Beomseok roars and struggles so hard Namjoon nearly gets thrown off them. He grits his teeth and lunges forward, straining his neck so he can reach his head past the dead guard's twisted head and slams his forehead into Beomseok's nose. Taking advantage of the moment where the alpha is stunned, Namjoon pulls back and hauls the dead guard's body off of him. Just as Beomseok begins fighting again, Namjoon grabs his hair and slams his head into the cement ground once, twice, over and over and over until he stops twitching.

Before Namjoon can get his bearings, the door to the room slams open and multiple people yell as they rush in. Namjoon snarls and barely takes a second to reach deep within himself and latch on to the drive that is the only reason he ever survived the impossible missions he used to be sent on.

This is just another solo mission. His only objective is to go home. The seven people who just spilled into the room, shouting and howling at the sight of their dead leader, are in his way.

Namjoon bares his teeth — the devil himself grinning at the new souls in his care — and attacks.

...

It's a familiar rhythm.

To Namjoon, killing has always been easy. He would never say that he yearns for the blood on his hands, but this has always been just on the wrong side of effortless for him. He's good at missions because he's good at following through to achieve a goal, no matter the cost. Even if the cost is human lives.

It's simple. Namjoon's objective is he must go home, and to do that everyone around him must die.

He dodges a fireball shot his way, listening as the flames crackle past his shoulder and hit the woman charging him from behind instead. He leaps across the scatter of bodies around him to claw the eyes out of his fire-wielding attacker, and then goes for his throat, just like he's done for most of the others. This will be his twenty-sixth kill of the day. He still needs to kill Siwon. It's the only way he'll get his eyesight back.

He's covered in blood.

Namjoon clicks his tongue as he sprints through what feels like never-ending hallways, taking down more and more people as he goes. No one is a problem for him, all taken by surprise and reacting too late as he sails through the air straight for their most vulnerable body parts. He huffs after taking down another man — this one with air-wielding powers — and leans against the nearest wall, shaking. He hums and takes in the scenery around him, then sprints down another hall.

He's never been able to explain to anyone how he does this; how he can hum or click and the feedback will give him the layout of the area around him. He knows it's echolocation — sound waves bouncing off everything around him and returning in a pattern that lets him visualize where he is — but he can never quite say he hears the halls that are stretching out in front of him, so much as he can feel them as a weight on his spine and skin.

He takes a deep breath, ignores the heavy stench of blood that comes more from his own face and clothes than any of the bodies behind him, and keeps running, and when he runs into more people — more obstacles to his goal — he gets rid of them.

His brain seems to simultaneously turn off and be in overdrive. Everything around him is a threat, but he doesn't consciously register any of it. He could build a grocery list right now if he wanted to, even as he twists a woman's neck so far to the right he knows that when he drops her to the floor her head is nearly backwards. He feels like he's floating. He's so calm he thinks this might be the type of headspace Jimin goes into whenever he meditates.

Jimin. Bangtan. That's right.

Namjoon needs to go home.

He needs—

He gets tackled from the side, whoever it is ramming him into the wall so hard that his shoulder pops and burning pain takes over from his right elbow all the way to his clavicle. His attacker snarls and throws him to the floor then straddles his hips and slams his fist into the side of Namjoon's head. Namjoon grunts and goes limp, his right shoulder screaming but he needs to ignore it, needs to kill the man on top of him and go home.

He's so tired.

Namjoon grabs his attackers dick through his pants and twists, grinning when the man on top of him screams and jerks back. He lets go of his dick and grabs his collar and rips out his throat with his teeth, barely even registering the new hot blood joining all the still-warm stickiness covering him.

All at once, his vision comes back.

Namjoon yelps and flinches from the sudden brightness of the world around him, slamming his eyes shut. He groans and shoves the dead man — Siwon, he's finally killed him — off of him and rolls onto his side, hissing at the burn of his dislocated shoulder. He huffs wearily, blinking rapidly until his eyes finally adjust to being able to see after who knows how long, and slowly and carefully pushes himself to his feet. He groans and takes deep breaths through his mouth, wrinkling his nose at the overwhelming taste of blood coating his throat. This, at least, this sticky disgust that clings to him after a kill, is not something he's missed.

He shakes his head and finally takes in his surroundings. He seems to be in an abandoned hospital building, judging by the linoleum white floors and bright led lights along with rooms that have windows leading into the hallways. He listens carefully, but for now no one seems to be coming his way so he crouches back down and pats Siwon's body until he finds a cell phone. He holds it in front of the man's face until it unlocks and quickly dials a number, unsure of how long this peace will last.

Junmyeon picks up on the first ring. "Don't hang up. We're tracing your location."

"How'd you know it was me?" Namjoon asks. His own voice sounds weird, like he's hearing it through a tunnel.

"Of course it's you," Junmyeon replies, because nothing has ever surprised him and Namjoon calling when he's supposed to be a prisoner certainly isn't going to be the thing that does. "I'm putting the call on speaker. Lay wants a report."

Namjoon swallows thickly. "Hello, Dr. Zhang."

"Hello again, Namjoon-ssi," Dr. Zhang greets. "Please report your condition as best as you can."

Namjoon quickly takes stock. "Broken nose. Dislocated shoulder. Burns on back, shoulders, and chest. Possible concussion. Stab wound in the thigh. Twisted ankle. So many bruises."

"Is that all?" Dr. Zhang says dryly. "You've barely been there for an hour." There's a moment of silence. "You're two kilometers away from the original drop point. Jongin is on his way, but the carrier ETA is seven minutes. Is there anything else I should know?"

Namjoon closes his eyes and slumps down so he's sitting with his back against the wall. "I don't know."

"Thank you for telling me. We'll be there soon, Namjoon-ssi. Is Jongin there?"

It takes more energy than it should for Namjoon to open his eyes and blurrily take in the figure — Jongin, Exo's own teleporter — squatting before him. "Yes, he's here. Hi, Jongin-ssi."

Jongin gives him a small wave. "Hey there, Namjoon-ssi." He takes in Namjoon's state with a faint expression of horror on his face. Then, loud enough for Dr. Zhang and Junmyeon to hear over the phone, he says "He's covered in blood, hyungs. Like, he's soaked in it."

"Most of it's not mine," Namjoon reassures. He vaguely notes that he's slurring.

"Yeah." Jongin glances over his shoulder at Siwon's body laying not even a meter from them, then turns his head the other way to raise an eyebrow at the trail of bodies and gore leading from where Namjoon came. "I can kind of see that, but it's still good for them to know."

"Thank you for telling us," Junmyeon says, even though Namjoon hasn't put the phone on speaker and Jongin can't hear him. "ETA is five minutes." Dr. Zhang cuts in before he can hang up the call.

"Don't die before we get there, Namjoon-ssi."

Namjoon huffs a laugh, even though he knows Dr. Zhang is being serious. "Yes, doctor." He drops the phone to his side and hangs his head with a groan. Jongin makes a low noise in his throat and pats his cheek.

"Hey, you can't pass out." He says urgently. "Come on, Namjoon-ssi. You know this." Namjoon snaps his teeth half-heartedly at Jongin's fingers but raises his head obediently. "Hey! That's not nice. I'm here to rescue you." Jongin grins at him and pulls a knife out of a holster on his thigh. "Don't move, ok? I'm gonna cut your arms loose." Namjoon hums low in his throat and watches detachedly until his arms are free. Jongin then carefully rubs them, wrist to forearm, to try and help with the circulation.

Namjoon tilts his head and listens carefully. "Hear some'n comin," he says softly. His tongue feels heavier by the second. Jongin stops rubbing his arms to check his watch.

"Too soon to be the doc," he mumbles. He stands to his full height and pulls another knife from one of what Namjoon is now realizing are many holsters all over his body. Jongin checks his watch again and then points with his knives in both directions of the long hall they're in. "Which way are you hearing them from?"

Namjoon nods to his left.

"Alright." Jongin rolls his shoulders and kicks his legs out then hops in place like he's warming up for a jog. "I'll take care of them. You just sit here and don't worry about anything, ok? And stay awake."

Namjoon raises one heavy arm to give him a shaky salute. Jongin nods and faces the direction that Namjoon can hear people running towards them from, just in time to see three men round the corner of the hall at a dead sprint. Jongin wastes no time and attacks before they even realize that Namjoon's not the one they're fighting.

Namjoon leans his head back against the wall and watches. Jongin's one of Junmyeon's best fighters, his every move executed with the grace of a trained dancer. Years ago he'd confessed that he in fact had been a dancer, but after being scouted by a hero agency he knew he could be putting his teleportation power to better use. Namjoon wonders if he still rents out dance studios to relax on his days off. He hopes so.

Jongin takes down eight more of Sungho's followers — incapacitated, not killed; Namjoon tries not to think about it — before a shrill whistle echoes through the halls. Jongin throws his latest opponent against the wall hard enough to instantly knock the man out, then puts two fingers to his mouth to release a low whistle in reply. There's a long silence, then Namjoon hears them:

Two sets of footsteps, and the high trilling sound that Junmyeon favors to call to his pack.

Jongin head perks up and he starts bouncing in place. He turns and grins at Namjoon. "Hyungs are here!" he informs needlessly, but Namjoon allows his excitement to wash warmth over him.

It's over. He's going home.

...

It takes some time to get back to the carrier, mostly because Dr. Zhang insists that he take care of Namjoon's burns, concussion, and dislocated shoulder right there in the hallway.

"There are no more of Sungho's followers that you need to worry about," Junmyeon informs Namjoon when he tries to protest. "You got most of them, and Jongin and I handled the rest."

Once Dr. Zhang deems Namjoon fit to be moved, Junmyeon hoists him onto his back and carefully they pick their way across the bodies Namjoon left in his wake until they reach the stairwell that leads to the roof, Jongin staying behind to watch the prisoners until a separate transport arrives to pick them up. Namjoon rests his head on Junmyeon's shoulder, wishing he could smell the alpha's scent past all the blood covering him.

"Is Seokjin hyung on the carrier?" he asks quietly.

"Yes," Junmyeon answers. He turns and starts up the third flight of stairs. According to the evacuation plan Namjoon spotted before they entered the stairwell, they have six more to go. "He's awake and nearly had to be chained to the gurney to stop him from coming to get you himself."

Namjoon smiles shakily, then huffs and buries his face in Junmyeon's shoulder. "I don't know what I'm going to do," he mumbles. "He doesn't— none of them have ever seen me like this. They don't know this part of me."

"The part that fights to come home?" Dr. Zhang asks from where he's walking a few steps ahead of them.

"The part that's a monster," Namjoon spits. He'd worked so hard to leave this behind, to become better than just RM. He'd been so careful; never showing anyone the type of violence that he's capable of; never even carrying a weapon even though he's licensed to carry just about everything. He doesn't want to be that man anymore. The man with the highest kill count in recorded history; the man that was feared by not only his enemies, but his own comrades. He doesn't want to be known for his violence, his rage.

He doesn't want Bangtan to be afraid of him.

There's silence for another two flights before Junmyeon breaks it.

"When I first met Bangtan," he starts, carefully adjusting his grip on Namjoon's thighs, "they were— well, jaded is the only word I can use. They'd been abused and thrown away a dozen times over. Seokjin-ssi even spoke about taking the whole pack and quitting hero work." Namjoon doesn't know where this is going, but he lifts his head to rest his chin on Junmyeon's shoulder and hums to show he's listening. "I don't know if I'd ever seen an alpha as angry as him, or any of the Bangtan alphas for that matter. You remember that, Lay?"

Dr. Zhang makes a noise of affirmation. "It wasn't a good time for anyone in the industry, but Bangtan was definitely getting what many would consider the worst of it," he agrees, "from both within their company and externally from news outlets and general public opinion."

"But then you came, Namjoon-ssi" Junmyeon says, "and I won't say it was perfect. Everyone knows how rough you had it when you were first hired into BigHit. But seeing what happened over time, it was amazing. You took care of them, and eventually it was like Bangtan bloomed. All of us noticed it. I don't think I've ever seen any of them so happy as they are when you're with them." Junmyeon leans his head to the side, just enough to press his temple against Namjoon's, a sweet gesture of comfort that warms his aching soul. "But just as everyone could see that Bangtan had changed, they could also see something else, and at first it was hilarious but now I'm thinking you actually have to hear this."

"Junmyeon-ah," Lay says warningly.

"He needs to hear this," Junmyeon insists. "Namjoon-ssi," he says, serious and with a tone that implies he'd rather they be face to face for this. "I'm sorry you're hearing this from me, but Bangtan adores you, and you don't seem to know that. You're their star, their warmth, and their shelter. Everyone with eyes can see it except for you. They'd very genuinely go to hell for you, and I'm not even joking about that." Namjoon makes a small noise in protest, a mix between a whine and a low chirp. "It's true. When you're anywhere with any of them, everyone else might as well not exist. They hang off of your every word. If you show even the slightest discomfort, they do everything in their power to make you feel better." He adjusts his grip on Namjoon again, his hold steady and warm. "They love you. They love you so much, and if you think that what you did today will change anything then you are hilariously — I'm sorry but just the thought of it really is kind of funny — hilariously wrong."

Namjoon doesn't know what to say. He knows that they love him now, but the thought that they'd continue to after experiencing for themselves what he's capable of becoming? He can't bring himself to believe it. The fear of it not being true could drown him. He tightens his grip on Junmyeon and buries his head again in the back of his shoulder.

"They'd go to hell for me, huh?" he asks softly, more to himself than to anyone else, but Junmyeon still answers.

"If you were the devil's hellhound himself," he says, "they'd lure souls to damnation just to keep you fed." His confidence is almost jarring against Namjoon's self-doubt.

Namjoon huffs and rubs his face against Junmyeon's shoulder. The alpha doesn't say anything about the blood or the tears that Namjoon's leaving on him.

"We'll see," he whispers.

He closes his eyes. He hopes.

---

Chapter Text

---

Now:

When they finally make it back to the carrier, Namjoon feels like he'll vibrate out of his skin. He quietly asks Junmyeon to put him down so he can make one last useless attempt to rub some of the blood off of his skin, then proceeds to limp slowly to the carrier behind Junmyeon and Dr. Zhang with his head hung low.

The heavy reinforced carrier door slowly opens automatically with a swipe of Dr. Zhang's hand over the entrance pad, but it's hardly even cracked open before both he and Junmyeon tense and hold out their arms to bar Namjoon from entering. Junmyeon slams his hand on the pad, stopping the door in its slow tracks and redirecting back to closing, but just that little bit is enough for a little bit of scent out. It's enough that Namjoon smells it, even past the blood covering his entire body, and he shudders at what it means.

Burnt Rubber. Wildfire smoke. Lit-match and gasoline. Acid in the back of the throat.

Alphas in the height of Rage.

"Shit," he breathes, just as the door fully slides back into shut position.

"Indeed," Junmyeon agrees. He huffs and squares his shoulders and consciously shifts tense muscles in the familiar way that indicates he's gearing up for a fight. He gently nudges Dr. Zhang who steps back without protest, only reaching out to pat Junmyeon on the shoulder.

"Be gentle, Junmyeon-ah," he warns softly. "They are hurt and afraid." 

"I know that," Junmyeon says, but his posture is tense, a coil just on the edge of snapping. "Just let me go in first. I don't want you to get hurt." He glances back at Namjoon. "Either of you."

Dr. Zhang hums and looks back at Namjoon as well. "Maybe we should let Namjoon-ssi go first," he suggests.

Both Namjoon and Junmyeon eye him incredulously. "What?" they ask at the same time. Dr. Zhang laughs at their unison. Namjoon wonders if he's ever been nervous in his life.

"I'm just thinking," the doctor clarifies, "that they're in pain and afraid and missing their pack. Namjoon-ssi might be just what they need."

Junmyeon's facial expression changes from tense and protective to contemplating.

"Wait," Namjoon says when Junmyeon thinks about it for just a little too long. The scent of Seokjin's and Hoseok's — he's awake, Namjoon distantly notes; that's a good sign — Rage slowly fades from around them as the wind blows across the rooftop. "You don't actually think that will work, do you? I mean—" he gestures down at himself, "—look at me. I don't think I'm exactly the picture of calm and soothing right now."

Junmyeon and Dr. Zhang hold a brief silent conversation with their eyes alone before Junmyeon nods and Dr. Zhang turns to fully face Namjoon. 

"I'd never put you in danger," the doctor says.

"I know that," Namjoon responds automatically. Even with his current doubts, it's the absolute truth.

Dr. Zhang smiles one of his sweet smiles, one of the ones that's talked many heroes down from the worst kind of falls. "Then please understand: Seokjin-ssi and Hoseok-ssi need to see you first. Even when you're like this."

Namjoon stares at him, taking the words in. Junmyeon glares at the door but doesn't dispute the point, and that is all Namjoon needs from him to know that he fully believes what Dr. Zhang has said. He takes a deep breath to calm himself, catching the last whispers of Seokjin's and Hoseok's Rage, and imagines his self-doubts blowing away with the scent. He feels like he's doubted himself ever since he gained real consciousness as a child, but over the years he's learned one very important thing:

Never doubt Dr. Zhang.

He huffs and shakes his shoulders in a last effort to loosen them. "Alright," he says. His voice doesn't tremble. "If you insist. Open the door."

Junmyeon's hand hovers over the entrance pad. "You're sure?" he asks.

"Yes," Namjoon consciously relaxes his clenched fists. "I'm ready. I want to see them."

Junmyeon nods and swipes his hand over the pad then immediately steps back, pulling Dr. Zhang with him so they're both reasonably far away enough from the door so their scents won't immediately irritate the two alphas inside more. Namjoon ducks through before it's fully open so he doesn't have time to lose his nerve.

The scent hits him again before he's even stepped all the way in, so strong it feels like a physical assault on his nose. Automatically, his lip curls. He pauses to gather himself, but can barely take a breath before twin snarls rip through the air and raise the hairs at his nape. Cautiously, he glances towards the cots where they'd laid Hoseok earlier.

Seokjin and Hoseok are standing and glare back at him, shoulder to shoulder and heads lowered as they take him in. Dr. Zhang did well as always. Seokjin's face is already healed, both functioning eyes watching Namjoon coldly. The bruising on Hoseok's face has faded to a sickly yellow that the beta has no doubt will be completely gone by tomorrow. The thick wrapping that was covering his shoulder when they traded is now switched out for a simple clean gauze held down with medical tape.

Namjoon shudders at the threatening aura they exude. Their pupils are blown wide and all their teeth are bared. When he chances another step further into the carrier, both alphas hunch forward in preparation to attack.

"No no no, don't do that," he says softly. He raises his hands to shoulder level, palms facing forward. "Hyungs, look. It's just me." He swallows thickly and takes another step towards them. "It's Namjoon." They both stay still, limbs stiff and muscles bulging with their tension. Namjoon licks his lips nervously and steps forward again. "Please, Seok-ah, Jin hyung. Let me come closer so you can see."

It's a risk, inviting alphas close when they're deep in their Rage instincts like this, but if it's someone they trust—

If it's someone they love—

Seokjin and Hoseok watch him for an agonizing moment longer then approach slowly, wary but not so deep in the Rage fog that they can't understand human speech. Hoseok pauses a meter away while Seokjin continues forward until he's close enough to reach out and grasp onto the wrist of one of Namjoon's still raised hands. His eyes scan his face, and now Namjoon desperately wishes he'd forced Junmyeon and Dr. Zhang to stop at one of the building's washrooms so he could have at least cleaned himself up just a little bit.

"Namjoon," Seokjin murmurs, his voice just barely on the human side of a growl. "Namjoon."

"Yes," Namjoon breathes. "Hyung, it's just me."

That's all Hoseok needs to suddenly be at his side, his movements frantic as he runs his hands over Namjoon, from his shoulders up to his head then back down and to his elbows.

"Namjoon," Hoseok says, only a little clearer than Seokjin. Namjoon can see the way he seems to physically fight off his Rage, even as his lips are twisted in a furious snarl. "Holy shit, what happened? Where are you hurt?" He turns his head to look past the Namjoon to the carrier door and barks at the two Exo alphas still waiting just outside, "Why is he walking on his own?"

Dr. Zhang and Junmyeon take that as their cue to cautiously make their way inside. "The blood's not his," Dr. Zhang says. "Despite the... gore... on him, I can assure you his injuries are minimal."

"Yeah, right," Hoseok spits. Next to him, Seokjin tightens his grip on Namjoon's wrist.

"Is that true?" he asks. In a tremendous show of self-control, the head alpha has already almost fully wrestled away his Rage, but his face matches Hoseok's in the way that fury is etched into his expression. Namjoon nods quickly.

"Yes," he answers, hoping to reassure them before Hoseok punches Junmyeon or Dr. Zhang in the face the way it looks like he wants to. "Hobi-ah, calm down. I'm barely hurt." He only just stops himself from shrinking back when Hoseok turns his furious gaze back on him. Instead, he shakes his and Seokjin's grips off him and takes a step back. Both alphas make low frantic noises in their throats and reach for him again but he firmly shakes his head.

"Look," he says. He draws on all his years of training to hide the way he's trembling as he draws their attention to his full body; to everything that he's covered in and what it implies. "Look at me. Do you see all this blood? It can't be mine. I'd be dead if it was." He spins in a slow circle to show off his general lack of injury, though he's not sure if they can see it past his blood soaked clothes as well as the sticky-thick layer that's dried directly onto his skin. As he completes his slow turn, he glances at Dr. Zhang for support.

"It's true, Seokjin-ssi, Hoseok-ssi," Dr. Zhang confirms. "He still has some injuries that I need to heal, but the blood you're seeing is of Sungho's people. Namjoon-ssi fought well." Namjoon swallows thickly and looks at the two alphas whose eyes have not left him during the whole inspection and confirmation.

"I killed them," he rasps. He pretends that the thickness coating in his throat and tongue is blood and not terror. "There were dozens and — and I killed almost all of them." He bows his head, not able to bear seeing the way that they will react to the truth of what he's done.

Silence stretches between them. Junmyeon and Dr. Zhang do an amazing job of pretending Namjoon's life might not be falling apart and do what they need to get the carrier ready for takeoff. The door closes behind Namjoon. He stares at his stained rust-red shoes and shuts off the part of his mind that notes his only escape has been cut off.

Anything that happens to him — whatever Seokjin and Hoseok decide — will be deserved.

"Junmyeon-ssi," Seokjin calls just as they feel the swoop of the carrier lifting off the roof. Namjoon doesn't flinch. "Do you have any water and hand towels?" Namjoon chances a look up through his lashes. Seokjin's posture is still tense and furious, but his face is blank.

"Towels are in the container by the gurneys," Junmyeon says. He unlocks and rummages through a cabinet and pulls out a large flask that he hands to Seokjin. "There are four more of these. Use as much as you need." 

Seokjin nods his thanks, his eyes still never leaving Namjoon, and gestures to the same gurney they'd laid Hoseok on earlier. "Sit down," he commands. Confused, Namjoon shuffles over and sits, his legs hanging off the side. Hoseok shadows him, sitting close enough to wrap an arm around Namjoon's back in an iron hold, his hand a clenched fist against Namjoon's waist. His other hand crosses his own body to lay palm down on Namjoon's thigh, not quite resting on it but not quite gripping him either. Namjoon tries to shake him off, but Hoseok only growls at him and attempts — impossibly — to shift even closer.

"You shouldn't," Namjoon insists, trying to move away. "Hoseok-ah, let go. I'm dirty."

"I don't give a shit," Hoseok snaps. He doesn't let Namjoon move even a centimeter away. "Stop moving and wait for hyung."

Namjoon gives up, exasperated, and looks to where Seokjin has just closed a cabinet and is making his way to them. He doesn't even acknowledge the way Hoseok is attempting to meld himself to Namjoon, instead placing a stack of towelettes on the sheets next to them. Taking one, he opens the flask and pours water slowly onto it until it's sufficiently soaked, then reaches for Namjoon's head. This time the beta can't stop himself from flinching. Seokjin freezes, hand inches from his face.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

Namjoon curses and forces himself to relax. "Nothing. What are you doing?" he rasps.

Seokjin frowns, the first expression that's crossed his features since he went eerily blank and asked Junmyeon for water and towels. "I'm wiping your face."

"Oh." Namjoon fights through his own confusion and goes to take the wet towelette out of Seokjin's hand. "Thank you. I can do it."

Seokjin pulls his hand back before Namjoon can take it. "I'm wiping your face," he repeats. When Namjoon reaches for the towelette again Seokjin growls and uses his other hand to grab his wrist. "Namjoon-ah, stop. Hyung will do it."

"Hyung," Namjoon growls back, trying to pull out of his grip and failing. The iron bar of Hoseok's unforgiving hold around him makes it impossible for Namjoon to fully resist. "This is— I'm disgusting. Just let me do it."

Seokjin's lip curls and his rumbling growl gets louder. "You're not disgusting," Hoseok snaps before Seokjin can. "Don't be stupid. Sit still."

Namjoon feels his own lips pull back to show his teeth and nearly snarls, but a quick and deliberate cough from the cockpit cuts him off. He glances past Seokjin towards where Junmyeon is sitting in the pilot chair with Dr. Zhang standing at his side, even though Namjoon knows the doctor should be here looking over him and not hovering around Junmyeon. They're both facing forward in the act of driving the carrier and not even looking back at them, but Namjoon can feel their disapproving stares from here.

"They love you," Junmyeon had told Namjoon, not even thirty minutes ago. "They love you so much."

But how can that be true, even now? Namjoon doesn't know, doesn't want the emotional devastation that will come with hopes dashed. He's been shielding himself for so long from what he's considered to be an inevitable heartbreak that now he's having trouble imagining that maybe he's wrong, and just this once the universe might be kind enough to hand him something he wants so badly, even if he doesn't deserve it.

The Bangtan pack are heroes. They've seen people at their absolute worst, the type of villains that can make someone wonder if the world is worth protecting if it has this type of corruption ingrained into it's everyday societies with no signs of ever truly being put to an end. Somehow, before he'd even met Bangtan, Namjoon had unconsciously counted himself as one of the bad guys and never bothered to change his outlook even when he'd done his best to make himself into the opposite. He's always been honest with himself ever since he was a little boy, and so when he used to look in the mirror after his most brutal and vicious missions and the tiny voice at the back of his head whispered 'villain, cruel, monster,' he never thought to deny the words, even years later when he put that violence behind him.

Because he never actually put it behind him, did he? Today was not him at his bloodiest, nor his kill count in a day — hell, in an hour — at its highest. If it would be for Bangtan, Namjoon knows he'd do it again; he'd do worse, and he wouldn't regret a single drop of blood.

How could they still love him as heroes, as good people, knowing that this is who he is? Namjoon doesn't know, but as he sits here under the fluorescents of the Exo carrier and reminds himself that self-honesty has always been his strongest trait, he makes a list of five things he does know at this very moment:

1. He's terrified.

2. He's covered in blood in more ways than one.

3. He loves Seokjin and Hoseok; loves Bangtan in a way he didn't know he could ever let himself experience.

4. It's not his place to decide what the Bangtan pack feels.

5. Junmyeon said they love him.

Hilariously, it's this last known fact that drives him to gather courage. He takes a deep breath to calm himself down. He trusts the Exo alpha more than he'd ever admit. If Junmyeon had said it, then—

Namjoon looks back at Seokjin and this time really looks. He's been letting fear and anticipation of rejection cloud his mind. It hasn't been fair to himself, and it hasn't been fair to Seokjin and Hoseok. If Namjoon's fears are founded and his love rejected then he will take it with grace and nurse his wounded heart quietly, but he has to at least give them the chance. So Namjoon looks.

Seokjin's hands are shaking.

Namjoon blinks at the observation. He takes in the way the alpha's jaw is clenched and his fist is held so tight around the towelette Namjoon's afraid he's already squeezed it dry. His eyes are bloodshot. His nose is twitching, no doubt from the heavy stench of blood that now fills the carrier.

He looks like he's about to break.

Namjoon absorbs it all then takes another deep breath and relaxes his posture, and something deep inside his chest — something that's been soft and warm ever since he started working for BigHit; ever since he met Bangtan — seems to sink into his very bones and spread up his spine, tingling his scalp. It's a revelation.

He's been doing this all wrong, Namjoon realizes. Ever since he'd found out that Bangtan have already considered him to be part of the pack, he's been expecting to see something different; something to make their acceptance of him make sense. But that's not the right way to go about this, he reminds himself.

'You're our pack, too,'  Jeongguk had said.

Please tell me this isn't the first time you've realized,'  Jimin had added, 'Surely you've known?'

And that was the whole point, wasn't it? There was nothing special for Namjoon to look for. They'd expected him to know. They'd been surprised by his confusion. They'd already known Namjoon loves them back. He isn't supposed to be looking for something different, something special. He's supposed to see that they still treat him — love him — the same.

For his part, he can only return Bangtan's devotion. He's honest enough with himself to know it's what he's always wanted, and through the revelation of what feels like a miracle, it's what he now knows they want as well.

Courage found and mind now quiet, Namjoon turns his wrist that's still in Seokjin's grip and carefully curls his own fingers around the alpha's forearm, then uses that to pull him forward. Seokjin comes willingly, even though the tension running through him doesn't loosen. Hoseok's arm around Namjoon's waist doesn't feel like a restraint anymore. Now he thinks it might be the only thing keeping him together as he pulls Seokjin close — closer; close enough for Namjoon to squeeze his knees together to cradle Seokjin's thighs between them and lean forward — with Hoseok still clinging to him — so he can wrap his arms around Seokjin's hips and lean his forehead against his sternum.

None of them move. The moment stretches, until Seokjin's hard exterior finally collapses in on itself and he shakes his arm out of Namjoon's grip to hunch down and wrap him and Hoseok in an embrace so tight Namjoon's whole face gets squished against Seokjin's stomach. Like this, surrounded by both alphas' warmth, his nose pressed to the clean spare clothes Junmyeon or Dr. Zhang must've lent Seokjin, Namjoon can finally smell something beyond the carnage that covers him.

Burnt rubber fury. Static-shock terror. Petrichor relief.

Sun-warmed honey love.

Namjoon squeezes his eyes shut and pushes his nose deeper against Seokjin. Someone's shaking — probably all three of them — but for the first time since Seokjin and Hoseok left on this cursed mission a week ago, Namjoon feels grounded and safe.

They stay like that for what must be a long time. Neither Junmyeon nor Dr. Zhang force them to separate until they're ready. When Seokjin eventually leans back enough for Namjoon to tilt his head back and meet his eyes, the alpha huffs and presses a dry kiss to his forehead.

"Hyung," Hoseok murmurs when the kiss turns into Seokjin just mashing his nose against Namjoon's matted hair. "Give me the water. I'll wipe his face."

Seokjin hands him the flask without pulling away. "Sorry," he whispers against Namjoon's forehead.

"Don't be." Hoseok unwinds himself from around Namjoon and selects a towelette from the little stack next to him then takes the water from Seokjin and soaks it with still shaking hands. Without his support, Namjoon sags even more against Seokjin and makes a soft noise in his throat, a kind of mournful plea at the loss of the solid presence wrapped around him. Hoseok hums in return, amused and soothing.

"Don't worry, Joon-ah," he reassures. He reaches up and dabs carefully at Namjoon's temple with the wet towel, gently nudging Seokjin out of the way so he can work it across the front of his head. "As soon as we're safe and back with our loves, I'm not letting you go for a very long time."

Namjoon's heart does a funny thing against his ribcage at Hoseok's low, dark tone. Maybe he hasn't fought off the Rage as well as Namjoon had thought. "I love you," he replies, instead of 'I hope you never let me go,' or 'thank you for loving me so obviously,'  or 'I'm sorry for doubting this pack.'

Instead of all these things, Namjoon lets go of Seokjin with one arm and grasps Hoseok's hand holding the now blood-stained towelette. He turns his head to more easily press his nose to Hoseok's knuckles, ignoring the way the stench of blood is stronger now that it's wet, and says it again. "Seok-ah, I love you so much."

Hoseok blinks at the declaration. Surprise rises in his features as well as a pretty blush, and Namjoon feels his own helpless adoration fill him as Hoseok gets suddenly teary-eyed.

"Ah," Hoseok says. Above them, Seokjin huffs a soft laugh against Namjoon's hair. "I— well! That is—" Hoseok coughs and pulls his hand out of Namjoon's grip and returns to wiping his face with vigor. Namjoon is patient and amused, letting him turn his head as he sees fit while he painstakingly cleans him. They've gone through four hand towels before Hoseok speaks again, soft and so so sincere. "I love you, too, Joon-ah. More than I think you even realize."

He knows that already, of course, but hearing it said out loud still makes Namjoon's breath hitch. He can't help the smile that pulls at the corner of his mouth, and Hoseok trills softly and presses a kiss to the dimple that appears, only making Namjoon smile wider.

Once Hoseok deems Namjoon's face as clean as it's able to be without a full shower with soap, Seokjin pulls away so he can kneel down in front them. Namjoon makes a noise of protest but is gently shushed by Hoseok, who wraps himself around him once again. Seokjin takes both of Namjoon's hands in his own and looks up at him with emotions so strongly displayed on his face that Namjoon almost wants to look away.

"You ran away earlier before I could say it back," Seokjin says. He raises one of Namjoon's hands and kisses the still bloody palm without hesitation or looking away. "Namjoon-ah. My Namjoon-ah. My perfect beta who cares so much and will do anything for his pack — and it is his pack — do you know how I love you? Because I do, Joon-ah. I love you, too."

Namjoon clenches his jaw in an effort to stop the sudden mist blurring his vision. He holds Seokjin's hands tight, tight enough that it must hurt, but he can't bring himself to let go.

"I know," he whispers, because that's as loud as he can manage without his voice breaking. "Trust me, hyung. I know. You — everyone, really — have made it very clear."

Seokjin smiles up at him, and it's like the sun reflecting off a river; blinding, exhilarating to witness, safe, real.

"Good," he says. He sighs and leans his forehead against Namjoon's knee. "That's good. Yoongi told us that you probably wouldn't know until we said it ourselves. Is that what happened?"

Namjoon huffs and pets Seokjin's head, lightly scratching at his scalp. "Yeah. Jeongguk said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, but I had no idea."

Hoseok laughs against his shoulder. "God, Yoongi hyung's always right, isn't he?"

Namjoon nods, mockingly serious. "You should've known."

"You should've known," Seokjin says drily. He lifts his head and grins up at him again, radiant. Namjoon's heart clenches at his beauty. "Oblivious beta. How could we not love you?"

Namjoon clears his throat, overwhelmed and nearly giddy, and calls over Seokjin's shoulder, "Dr. Zhang, is there anything else you need to check on us before we land?" Hoseok and Seokjin graciously allow him the escape, shuffling away reluctantly to make room as the doctor approaches.

"Just a few things," Dr. Zhang affirms. The next half hour or so are silent aside from his quiet instructions to the three Bangtan members as he heals them more. Eventually he deems them well enough to be in safe hands with BigHit's in-house healers. He then rummages through a cabinet on the far side of the gurneys and comes back with a bundle of fresh clothes for Namjoon and instructions to burn the ones he's wearing.

"Change before we land," Dr. Zhang says. "Shower as soon as you can, but for now at least get out of those clothes." He waits for Namjoon to quickly change before turning to where Seokjin and Hoseok are now sitting side by side on a cot. "We've received a call from BigHit. Your pack is—" he hesitates and glances back at Junmyeon, even though the Exo alpha is still turned away driving the carrier, "—in a bad mood."

"Rage?" Hoseok asks. Dr. Zhang shakes his head.

"Not yet, but be prepared for them to be a little feral when they greet you." He gestures to Namjoon. "I expect that Namjoon-ssi's appearance might push them further into that mindset. You might want to let CEO Bang know that you won't be available for a few days."

"I'll do it," Namjoon says. He addresses Seokjin and Hoseok. "You two meet the others and go home right away. I'll take care of the debrief and head to my place to shower before coming back."

"Not a chance," Seokjin snaps. "You're coming home with us."

Namjoon blinks, taken aback by the vehemence in his refusal. "Hyung—"

"Hyung's right," Hoseok cuts him off, his voice on the edge of a growl. "We're not letting you out of our sight, and I can guarantee that the others will feel the same." When Namjoon has no response besides confusion, Hoseok softens his voice and posture. "Namjoon-ah, do you want to be away from everyone for a little? If that's the case then we'll understand."

"No, of course not!" Namjoon says. "I just thought you'd want some time alone with your pack."

Both Seokjin and Hoseok frown. "Our pack," Hoseok emphasizes the first word with a heaviness that makes Namjoon pause, but instead of confusion or reluctance, this time the emotion rising inside him is almost enough to make him light-headed.

Our pack. Namjoon doesn't know if he's ever felt joy as pure as this.

Dr. Zhang clears his throat and draws their attention back to him. "We'll be back soon," he informs them. "Be prepared. It's likely that your pack will be waiting for you at the landing pad."

Namjoon can't help the way he stares at Seokjin and Hoseok; can't stop the soft, sweet smile that he knows is on his face. He moves closer so he can take both of their hands. Their smiles mirror his own.

Your pack. He can't wait be home with them.

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