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i swear to god

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The man’s hand was shaking so bad that Jungkook was just waiting for him to drop it any moment. Or fire it. Jungkook hoped it didn’t come to that.

“Sir, I will only ask you one last time. Please put down your gun. You don’t have to do this, we can help you fix this. I just need you to put the gun down.”

Normally Jungkook trusted his partner completely, with the job they had there wasn’t really any other option. Protecting and serving needed team work, but Jungkook couldn’t seem any of Namjoon’s calm words getting through to the shaking man.

“You don’t understand.” The gun was raised higher. “It was my girl, she was my girl! They took her from me. I can’t stop now, not when I finally have them. This is justice. Isn’t that what you’re all about. Just move so I can finish what I started!” The man was turning an even darker shade of red, and instinctively Jungkook moved a hand closer to the gun strapped to his waist.

“Sir, you can back ou—”

YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND!

All of a sudden there was a loud bang reverberating around the room, and before Jungkook could even begin to comprehend the first, another followed it. He felt frozen, like he had no control over his body. Had the gunshots made him deaf? Why did they sound different? Why couldn’t he move? 

He didn’t register the sound of Namjoon’s gun firing, couldn’t hear the screams from behind him, a shout that could have been his name. Was he falling? Why did he feel numb? Why was he leaning against something hard and cold? He couldn’t remember the walls having lights hanging from them.

What might have been a hand pressed along his chest, but before he knew it, Jungkook was consumed by pain, a heat burst across his chest, the fire dragging him slowly under.

“Jeon-ssi, I need you to stay with me.”

Jungkook couldn’t breathe. He tried to open his mouth but something was stuck in it.

“That’s it. I know you didn’t go through all that police training for nothing. Now fight.”

He couldn’t seem to get his lungs to work, his throat feeling like gravel.

“Come on, I see that ring on your finger, I know you’ve got something to lose, now fight it. You’ve got too much riding on this to give up now. You can’t die yet. Now fight.”

Jungkook didn’t know how he was supposed to do that when he felt like he was encased in flames. But through it all, he couldn’t miss the fact that she was right. He had a reason to fight. Had someone who was waiting for him, someone he couldn’t give up on. 

Jimin-hyung, ” with his almost soundless whisper, his lungs seemed to scream out in pain. But this time, when the flames dragged him under, he knew what he must do.

Fight.

With all he had.

“Is this the house of Jeon Jimin-ssi?”

The a shuffling on the other end of the line, before a voice spoke, “Namjoon-hyung? Why are you calling me from the precinct?”

“Jimin—”

There a short intake of breath, before Jimin interrupted hurriedly, “Hyung? Where’s Jungkook-ah? Is he okay?”

“Jimin, I—”

“Joon-hyung, I swear to god, if you don’t tell me where my husband is—”

There was a shaky sign. “I’m so sorry, Jimin-ah, I really am. He’s at United Hospital.”

The phone call ended before Namjoon could say anything else.

Jimin entered the hospital looking as if he was ready to breathe fire. The unmistakable flames flickering in his eyes, made him look almost dangerous. It was enough to have the nurses at the counter cowering, and it felt like everyone took a collective sigh of relief when he was intercepted by another man dressed in a mismatch of police clothes and everyday wear.

“Jimin, just take a breath from a second.”

The flames danced even hotter in Jimin’s eyes. “God dammit hyung, how do you expect me to be at all calm right now?”

Namjoon’s hands tightened where they lay on Jimin’s shoulders, giving him a gentle squeeze. “Hey, there is no point getting all riled up. He’s in surgery, there’s nothing that we can do except wait.”

Some of the fight seemed to deflate out of Jimin a little, his head dropping down. “I swear, if you weren’t my friend, I would be punching the hell out of you right now.”

Namjoon gave him a half-hearted smile, following Jimin over to the chairs. 

“For the record as well,” Jimin continued, sinking down into a chair, “I have every reason to be riled up right now. How do you honestly expect me to not be angry? My husband is on an operating table right now. Yes, you guys are police officers, yes, I know I am supposed to be prepared for something like this to happen, but still. The thought of losing him just hurts too much.”

Jimin blinked away hot tears, scrubbing a hand across his cheek. He felt himself almost collapse into his seat, a shaky sort of sigh falling out of him.

“I’m so sorry, Jimin-ah.” Namjoon’s sigh almost matched his own, if not for something else that bled into the end of it. “It’s all my fault that Jungkook-ah is hurt.”

Jimin’s head snapped up from where is was slumped against the wall, his neck twinging a little in pain. He opened his mouth, ready to spit questions or defiance he wasn’t quite sure yet, but Namjoon wasn’t finished just quite yet.

“I should have shot him, the one who fired at Kook, he was getting to reckless. People who kidnap three innocent people aren’t stable, but I really thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I was giving him the chance to lay down his gun, I didn’t want to be another cop who shot first and asked questions later. But I was wrong. I should have known. Should have taken more precautions.”

Namjoon’s eyes were getting misty, but he didn’t bother to wipe the forming tears away. “When he pulled to trigger my blood went cold. It was my fault, it is my fault. Jungkook’s life is in danger because I was too willing to play the good cop. I’m so sorry Jimin.”

Horrible images of Jungkook, chest covered in blood, face lifeless and cold, filled Jimin’s mind and he couldn’t help the strangled whimper that left his lips. 

Blinking hard, he reached out to grip Namjoon’s hand that was tugging at his own hair.

“You can’t go thinking like that. I know you, hyung. You never would have purposefully wanted Jungkookie to be hurt. You’re a police officer. You have to make hard decisions everyday. And I don’t blame you.” Namjoon gave a little shake of his head, a couple of tears streaking down his cheeks. Jimin gripped his hand tighter, squeezing it hard. “Look at me for a sec.”

Namjoon reluctantly shifted his gaze upwards, so he could look into Jimin’s eyes. 

“Did you pull that trigger, hyung?”

“Jimin, that’s not the point. He wouldn’t have been shot if—”

“Namjoon-hyung.” It was almost scary how much determination Jimin’s tone held. “Listen to me. Did you pull that trigger?”

The answer was shaky, and small, but he managed to mumble out a no.

Jimin squeezed his hand tightly.

“You shouldn’t blame yourself, hyung. I might not have been there, but I know that you aren’t responsible for this. THe man who pulled the trigger is. Blame him. Blame whatever circumstances got him into that situation, but don’t blame yourself. I don’t blame you.

“Mr Jeon, his condition is stable. There is not reason for you—”

Jimin cut off the exasperated doctor. “With all due respect, Doctor Lee, if you don’t let me see my husband—”

“I’m sorry, sir, but you’ll have to wait until morning, visiting hours are over—”

Jimin shook off the calming hand that Namjoon tried to place on his shoulder, stepping closer to the doctor. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you think I give a damn about visiting hours. It is 4 in the morning, my husband got shot twice and I have been sitting here all night waiting to know if I was ever going to be able to see him again. Visiting hours are my last priority right now.”

The fire in Jimin’s eyes was back full force, and it really was surprising that the doctor had lasted this long.

“I’ll show you to his room, Mr Jeon.”

Before Jimin followed Doctor Lee, he reached out one last time for Namjoon’s hand, squeezing it tightly. “Call someone, don’t want here alone, Joon-hyung.”

Jimin called out a quick goodbye as he turned to follow the Doctor, promising to update Namjoon in the morning, before walking through the emergency room doors.

Chapter Text

Doctor Lee’s lips were pulled down around the edges, as he kept his gaze forward. Jimin would have felt guilty about his actions, if not for the fact that it was his Jungkookie was lying in the hospital bed, hurt and injured. 

“We’re currently keeping Mr Jeon in ICU,” Doctor Lee began, not halting in his steps. “His condition may be stable but he only just came out of surgery and we’re hesitant to move him to a different ward just yet.”

Jimin nodded despite the fact the doctor wasn’t facing him, twisting his hands together in front of him. He really just wanted to see Jungkook, hold his hand, but he didn’t want to hurry Doctor Lee, given how much they’d already argued. “Are you able to tell me anything else about his condition?” Jimin asked hesitantly.

Shuffling the board in his hands, the doctor nodded, finally glancing at Jimin. “Your husband was shot twice. He was protected mainly by his bulletproof vest, which took most of the impact. He did, however, break two of his ribs and we had to perform surgery due to internal bleeding he sustain. Are you alright? Would you like me to stop?”

Jimin’s hands had begun to shake where he was holding them, his eyes feeling damp as he pictured Jungkook with of his injuries littering his body. He sucked in a deep breath, schooling his expression, before he shook his head at Doctor Lee, not trusting his voice to not come out shaky.

The doctor looked back down at the board in his hands, continuing on down the hallway. “While the first gunshots hit Mr Jeon’s chest, the other was in his left leg, just below his knee. He will be in a cast for a while, and will have to undergo physical therapy but we are fairly confident that he won’t have any permanent injuries to his leg.”

“Thank you, Doctor Lee, for saving him.”

They paused in the hallway, and Doctor Lee gave him a small, kind smile. “You’re welcome, Mr Jeon. This is his room here. Please thank your husband for his courage in protecting our community.”

Jimin offered a shaky smile back. He wanted to reach out to shake the doctor’s hand, but then his eyes fell on the door, mind switching to what, who , was behind it, and suddenly that was all he could think of. He bowed politely to Doctor Lee one last time, before stepping towards the door. Jimin reached out a shaky hand, the doorknob twisting easily under his grasp. 

As soon as Jimin saw the figure lying on the bed, tubes connected to his arms and an oxygen mask clasped over his mouth, Jimin’s propelled him forward, having a mind of their own. He reached out for one of Jungkook’s hands, drawing it up off the bed and to his chest gently. As Jimin’s eyes traced over Jungkook’s face and the bandages poking out of his shirt, he finally understood what his dad had been trying to tell him all those years ago.

“It is the hardest thing” he had said softly, eyes still fixed on the front door Jimin’s mother had just closed behind her, a smile so gentle dawning his lips that Jimin didn’t know whether he was supposed to have seen it or not. 

“The hardest thing?” Jimin had asked, placing his lunch in his school bag.

His father’s eyes had stayed fixed to the door, making Jimin wonder if he was even talking to him. But then his dad’s smile had turned a little wistfully, and he shifted his gaze to his son, “Watching her walk out that door, that’s the hardest part. Wondering to yourself when you’ll see them again or if you’re going to get a call while your at work. If they’ll walk back through that door.” His dad paused for a moment, seeming to sense the distress that Jimin was beginning to feel at his words.

“Mama’s not coming back?”

Jimin’s hands were enveloped by his father’s, who drew him close. “This is the part where we have to be strong, Jimin-ah. Your mum is so strong, making sure that we’re safe each and every day. We have to be strong for her, believe that she’s going to be okay. We can’t get stuck wondering about “what ifs” and maybes. We can’t get stuck at the hardest part. We just have to have a little faith.”

This is what his father had always been scared of, the part of his mother’s job which had been the hardest to swallow. When Jimin had first introduced Jungkook, back then a shy, young cadet, to his parents, his mother had been ecstatic, pulling Jungkook into a hug, eager to share her own memories of being a police officer in training. His father had been initially quiet, politely shaking Jungkook’s hand and welcoming him into their home.

Jimin had been nervous, his mind trying to supply reasons for why his father would dislike Jungkook until later that night, when Jungkook had offered to help Mrs Park with the dishes after dinner, and Jimin’s father had pulled him aside. When his father had teasingly called him a copycat for following in his footsteps in terms of partners, Jimin had burst into giggles, nervousness dissipating. After reassuring Jimin that he approved of Jungkook, saying he found him charming and sweet, his father had repeated those same two words, reminding him to have faith, even though the hardest parts. As his father had pulled Jungkook into a hug as they left at the end of the night, Jimin couldn’t keep the gigantic grin off his face.

Staring down at Jungkook in that moment, his husband lying hurt and injured in a hospital bed, Jimin told himself to have faith. To believe because Jungkook was going to be okay, he was going to be able to take him home, walk back through their front door together. He leaned down, pressing his lips gently to Jungkook forehead, holding them there for a moment, before he heard a soft groan, Jungkook’s fingers twitching from where they were intertwined with his own. 

Jimin pulled back to see Jungkook’s eyes flutter open, a small whine following. 

“Hey, baby,” Jimin said softly, fondness seeping through his voice, trying to hold back tears as he reached out to brush his fingertips across Jungkook’s cheek in a gentle caress. 

“J-Jimin-hyung?” Jungkook’s voice was muffled by the oxygen mask, but there was no way to hide the emotion in his words. Jimin leaned back down instinctually, half hugging, half collapsing onto Jungkook. Mindfully avoiding his injuries, Jimin managed to slide a hand under Jungkook’s neck, pressing their cheeks together. Tears spilled out, streaking down Jimin’s face.

“Thank you for being alive, thank you for holding on, Jungkookie.”

Shakily Jungkook drew an arm out from under the covers, reaching up to cup the back of Jimin’s neck, gently stroking his hair. “I’m al-alive?”

Jimin let out a small, tear-filled laugh, drawing back to nod his head, his smile bright. He reached up to gently shift Jungkook’s oxygen mask down enough for Jimin to press a tender kiss on his husband’s lips. “You are. You made me worry way too much, but you’re alive, thank god.”

“Need to have fa-faith in me, h-hyung.”

“Always, I’ve never doubted you. You love your job and I love you. Doesn’t mean I can’t worry about my husband. Namjoon-hyung’s phone call almost gave me a heart attack, but I always have faith in you, Kookie, always.”

At the mention of his patrol partner, Jungkook’s eyes grew wide. “Hyung is he ok-” Jungkook made to get up, falling back against the hospital bed with a pained groan. 

“Hush, it’s okay, Namjoon-hyung is okay, he didn’t get hurt. He’s only worried for you.”

Jungkook seemed to settle, drawing in a deep, relieved breath. “He shouldn’t worry, I’m ok-okay.”

“No, you’re not,” Jimin countered gently. “But you will be. And that’s what matters.”