#and i got up early to walk and procure breakfast (which is genuinely the only thing getting me through today)

[lorelune]

i need a nap

[kjack89]

Impasse (Pt. 2/3)

Continued from here. 

E/R, Modern AU, former relationship. Slightly heavier angst this time.

Between Grantaire taking a nap and Enjolras getting surprisingly engrossed in the complicated geopolitical reality of the novel he had picked out, they managed to mostly avoid each other for the rest of the day, which was truly an impressive feat, considering that the only other room in the tiny apartment was the bathroom. But after Grantaire had woken up and made himself some instant noodles (Enjolras had already eaten a granola bar while Grantaire slept), he started working on some sketches, and Enjolras knew from experience that the man could lose himself for hours in that.

Enjolras, in the meantime, eventually got bored with the novel and decided to work on drawing up some plans for an upcoming demonstration. It was a comfortable, well-worn silence that stretched between the two as they worked. They had done this many, many times before, though usually Enjolras would punctuate the silence by asking a few rhetorical questions out loud that Grantaire would be unable to stop himself from answering.

There was none of that this time and yet still, the silence was more companionable than either man had managed to be in...well, since they ended this relationship, or arrangement, or whatever you wanted to call it.

Which was probably why it was never going to last.

“I’m going to bed,” Grantaire announced, and Enjolras looked up, blinking owlishly at him before turning to glance at the clock. He was surprised to see it was already midnight, and he shook his head once to try to clear it. “Sure,” he said, “I’ll be there—”

He broke off, realizing in an instant that he had almost automatically responded, as he had hundreds of times before, ‘I’ll be there soon’, followed inevitably by an off-hand, ‘I love you.’

His eyes met Grantaire’s, and he knew in an instant that Grantaire had been thinking the same thing, that his mind too had immediately leapt to all the nights they had spent like this, to the times when Grantaire would come up behind Enjolras and drape himself over his shoulders to whisper in his ear that he was going to bed and that Enjolras should join him, or when Grantaire would simply drop a kiss onto Enjolras’s head as he walked past, or even to those nights when they’d had a fight but Grantaire would show up at Enjolras’s apartment unannounced anyway and let himself in without a word of apology or explanation, because he had never needed one.

But there was none of that this night, and Enjolras quickly looked away, feeling his face color. He cleared his throat, trying to cover what he had been about to say. “I mean, uh, I’m sure I’ll be going to bed soon, too.”

Grantaire jerked a nod and quickly peeled his hoodie off and shucked his jeans before burrowing under the blanket on the couch in just his boxers and t-shirt. “Night,” he said, and Enjolras glanced over at him.

“Goodnight,” he said, though his voice sounded strained to his own ears.

This time, Grantaire quite quickly fell asleep, but when Enjolras finally gave up on his own attempts a work not long after, the same couldn’t be said for him, and he was left staring up at the ceiling for a long time before sleep finally took him.

----------

For the first time in longer than Enjolras could remember, he wasn’t woken by the alarm on his phone, but instead by the smell of eggs cooking. He sat up slowly, and it took him a minute to remember where he was.

Grantaire was standing in front of the hot plate in the little kitchen area, still wearing just a t-shirt and boxers, his tousled hair indicating he hadn’t been up long either. “Morning,” he said through a yawn. “Hope you don’t mind scrambled – we didn’t have a lot of options.”

“Scrambled is fine,” Enjolras said, feeling like the exchange was unusually formal, since Grantaire had made him breakfast more times than he could count and knew that Enjolras wasn’t picky when it came to how he liked his eggs.

Then again, that was probably the reason for the formality.

He had barely managed to sit up before Grantaire handed him a plate, seemingly avoiding his eyes. “Eat up,” he said gruffly. “And be prepared – whoever was in charge of restocking this place after the last riot forgot to get coffee.”

Enjolras groaned. “That’ll make for a fun next few mornings,” he said with a sigh.

“You think we’ll be here that long?” Grantaire asked glumly, and Enjolras just shrugged.

They again lapsed into silence as they ate, and as soon as Grantaire finished, in seemingly record time, he told Enjolras, “Dibs on the shower.”

Enjolras blinked. “Sure,” he said, “that way I can do the dishes since you cooked—”

But Grantaire had already disappeared into the bathroom, and Enjolras groaned and flopped back down on the futon. He scrubbed a hand across his face before sitting up again and finally getting out of bed. “Note to self,” he muttered, “next time you get stuck in a safe house for a few days, make sure it’s without your ex and with some coffee.”

Grantaire took an unnaturally long time in the shower – and Enjolras tried not to think about what he could be doing in there – and by the time he did emerge, Enjolras’s mood, exacerbated by lack of caffeine, had showered. “Took you long enough,” he muttered as he brushed past Grantaire. “Hope you left me some hot water.”

“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t purposefully sabotage your perfect hair like that,” Grantaire shot back, though he paused, his expression unreadable. “Shame there’s not enough hot water in the world to do something about your face, though.”

Enjolras glared at him. “Same could be said for you,” he said curtly.

Grantaire’s eyes widened, and Enjolras realized a moment too late that he had crossed a line, and he flushed. “I – I didn’t,” he mumbled, wincing, “I mean, uh, that was uncalled for. And mean, even for me.”

To his surprise, Grantaire barked a genuine laugh. “No, it was a good one,” he said, a little grudgingly. “Besides, I set myself up for that one.” 

Enjolras managed a tentative smile. “Well, I’m sure you’ll return the favor at some point,” he said bracingly. “Now if you’ll excuse me, this hair takes some time.”

“I’m well aware,” Grantaire said with a smile that was a little too soft, and he quickly recovered, his smile disappearing.

Enjolras slipped into the bathroom, catching sight of his reflection in the fogged mirror. Grantaire hadn’t been lying – his face was a mess, courtesy of the black eye that had swollen overnight to take up almost a quarter of his face. He shook his head and huffed a sigh before getting into the shower and hoping that what remained of the hot water would be enough to relax him and get the weird interactions from that morning out of his mind.

He was mostly right – the hot water did soothe him, and he was in a much better mood when he got out of the shower than he had been going in. But all it took was one look at Grantaire perched on the couch, sketchbook balanced on his knees, and he was right back where he started.

Which meant the only option left was to retreat to the futon and return to his own work and ignoring Grantaire as best as he could.

But his resolve was tested sooner than expected. It wasn’t even lunchtime yet when Grantaire threw his sketchpad down, clearly frustrated. “I need a drink,” he announced to no one in particular, not waiting for Enjolras to respond before making his way over to the cabinet where the liquor was stashed.

Enjolras bit back his automatic response of ‘isn’t it a little early to start drinking?’ because he knew it wasn’t worth it. And besides, it almost certainly wouldn’t stop Grantaire, who apparently decided to forgo a glass and swig bourbon straight from the bottle.

That in and of itself was distracting enough, but it was made worse when Enjolras finally straightened, glanced at the clock and reluctantly asked Grantaire, “Do you want any lunch?”

“Want,” Grantaire repeated, his eyes already glassy. “Want is a peculiar word, don’t you think? Want...desire...and that’s not even getting to what we need, need for life, need for love, need for…”

He trailed off, and Enjolras sighed and resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Is that a no to lunch, then?” he asked, a little grimly.

Grantaire blinked as if just realizing what Enjolras had asked, and laughed. “Liquid lunch for me, I think,” he said cheerfully, raising his bottle in a salute.

“Fine with me,” Enjolras muttered, in no mood to put up with Grantaire when he was like this.

By the time he had made himself some cup noodles, Grantaire had all but drained the first bottle of bourbon, and Enjolras arched an eyebrow as he watched Grantaire lurch his way into the kitchen to procure a second bottle. “Normally I know better than to say anything about you’re drinking,” he remarked, “but are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“I am stuck,” Grantaire said through gritted teeth as he attempted to screw the bottle cap off, “in a 250 square foot box, with my ex-boyfriend, and no window to the outside world. What’s the worst that could possibly happen?”

As if to emphasize his point, the cap came flying off of the bottle and ricocheted across the room. Grantaire looked vaguely surprised before he almost doubled over with laughter. 

Enjolras wished he was remotely as amused. “Fine,” he muttered, “but I’m not cleaning up your puke. Again.”

“You say that now, and yet…”

Grantaire trailed off ominously before swaying his way back to the couch, where he plopped down with a sigh. Enjolras shook his head but went back to work, or tried to, anyway, until Grantaire decided to start monologuing. 

“I am thirsty,” he announced, taking a large swing from the bottle. “I am thirsty, and yet I drink. Is this not a conundrum? And yet, maybe what I’m thirsty for isn’t more to drink. But why drink at all, if not to satisfy thirst for something?” He flung a dramatic hand across the back of the couch, hitting the cushion with a thwack. “I drink to forget life, to forget every cruel twist that brought me here and that makes me go on still. What’s even the point? Day in, day out, we wake, we work, we sleep, we do it all over again. If I wish to make some indulgences in between, whether food or drink or fucking, who can blame me?” His eyes rolled over to Enjolras, and a small smile lit his face. “Well, you can blame me. You, with your perfect morals, and perfect fucking hair…” He trailed off before shaking his head again. “But us mere mortals aren’t like that,” he said with a sigh. “The people you fight for? They’re much more like me. Is that why, then? Save the cheerleader, save the world, or whatever? Though forgive me for casting myself as a cheerleader in that little parable, such as it is.”

He took another swig of bourbon. “Men are fucking trash,” he said. “Humanity, really. Might as well wipe us all out and start over. Maybe we’d do it better. Maybe we’d make every fucking mistake all over again. But one thing’s for sure, we can’t keep going like this. Not when it’s broken. Not when all I want is to put it all back together again but it’s in five thousand pieces and all I’ve got is chewing gum and an overwhelming sense of futility.”

Enjolras sighed and rubbed his temples. “I have never in my life met someone who loves the sound of his own voice as much as you do,” he said tiredly, and Grantaire just grinned lazily at him.

“Who else would love my voice if not me?” he asked. “You used to, once, or maybe you didn’t – I can never be sure.”

“Grantaire,” Enjolras sighed, really not wanting to get into this now, especially with Grantaire like this, but Grantaire ignored him.

“‘Course, maybe that’s why things ended the way they did,” he mused. “Maybe this is how it was always supposed to be. Or maybe—”

Whatever other option he was going to present was cut off by him tipping forward off of the couch. “Grantaire!” Enjolras half-shouted, jumping to his feet and rushing to Grantaire’s side. He turned Grantaire over and let out his breath in a huff when he saw Grantaire still grinning up at him, a little dazedly. “Jesus Christ, I thought—”

He broke off when Grantaire reached up to cup his cheek with one calloused hand. The touch was so gentle, and so familiar, that despite himself, Enjolras leaned into it. Grantaire searched his eyes for a moment before telling him, “I think...maybe you were right.”

“About what?” Enjolras asked.

“This isn’t a good idea.”

Before Enjolras could respond, Grantaire surged forward, kissing him. Enjolras was so surprised, he didn’t pull away at first, which Grantaire clearly took as an invitation, his mouth opening against Enjolras’s with a sigh, his hand cradling Enjolras’s cheek like it still belonged there.

For one extremely tempting moment, Enjolras almost let him continue, his baser instincts arguing that there was no harm, that they had done this so many times before, once more couldn’t possibly hurt.

And he was probably right.

It wouldn’t hurt him.

But he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it would hurt Grantaire. Which was all he had been trying to avoid in the first place.

So despite how much he really didn’t want to, he caught Grantaire’s wrist with his hand, and he pulled away. “I am right,” he told Grantaire, as gently as he could. “This is a bad idea.”

“But those can be the best kind,” Grantaire told him, his eyes dark.

Enjolras shook his head. “Not this time.” He stood and reached down to help Grantaire to his feet. “Not like this.”

Grantaire made a face as Enjolras pulled him to his feet. “If this is because I’m drunk, let me remind you, that hasn’t always stopped you in the past.”

“It’s not just because you’re drunk,” Enjolras told him. “Even though you are, and if I let go of you, you’d fall over again.”

“Calumny and lies.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Grantaire’s head lolled against Enjolras’s shoulder as they shuffled toward the futon. “Bed,” he agreed, his eyes fluttering closed. “I like bed.”

“I know you do,” Enjolras said.

Grantaire cracked one eye open. “I like bed better with you in it.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “I am, as always, impressed by your dedication to shooting your shot at the worst possible time.”

“It’s the only kind of shot I ever want shot at you.”

Grantaire’s voice was suddenly very small, and very serious, and he sounded more sober than he had at any point that day. Enjolras swallowed against the lump that rose unexpectedly in his throat. “Well,” he said roughly, “you don’t have to worry about that in here.”

Grantaire looked relieved, and he curled up on the futon, his eyes fluttering closed. “Good,” he murmured. “Then let’s stay here and never leave.”

Enjolras laughed lightly, automatically reaching out to gently stroke Grantaire’s hair like he had done a million times before. “You won’t be saying that tomorrow when you wake up with a hangover and remember that we have no coffee.”

Grantaire waved a dismissive hand without opening his eyes. “That’s future Grantaire’s problem,” he said, his voice muffled by the pillow.

Enjolras laughed again. “It sure is,” he agreed. “Now get some sleep.”

He turned to go, but Grantaire caught his hand. “Enj—” he started, his voice breaking. “I miss you.”

Enjolras swallowed again before carefully detangling his hand from Grantaire’s. “I know,” he said, his voice so low he was pretty sure Grantaire probably couldn’t even hear him. “So do I.”

>>Read part 3 here>>

[yoongi-sugaglider]

Daegu Quarantine

Jungkook x reader

Gang/ zombie apocalypse au

Warnings:

Gore, violence, zombies, mention of drugs and drug dealing, weapons discharge in self defense, possible future main character death, zombies, course language, zombies, drinking, did I mention zombies?

Summary:

They were the top of their game, known throughout the city as the smartest and most dangerous crew to ever hit the Daegu streets. But what’s going to happen when this group of young men encounter something right out of a horror film?

Word count:3315

Part 5===Part 6===Part 7

The next morning dawned bright and early. I couldn’t help the groan that forced it’s way from deep within my chest to echo through what I quickly realized was my very empty bedroom.

A moment of panic hit me as the memories of the day before came crashing down on my now fully alert consciousness. I bolted upright, eyes wide as I searched the room for my missing boyfriend.

“Kook?” I cursed the tremble in my voice, but quickly calmed when I spotted the tray sat on the bedside table beside me.

A large cup of coffee enticed me, the steam still visible as it traced alluring shapes in the air. Just to the side of that sat a plate filled with eggs, cooked exactly the way I liked them along with a side of sausage and two slices of buttered toast.

The sight filled me with a certain type of warmth and I sighed with contentment as I swung my legs out of bed and reached for the steaming cup of dirty bean water.

A hesitant knock at the door a few moments later called my attention and I swallowed my last bite of toast while giving my approval to, "Come in."

Jeanette bowed as she made her way inside,fingers twisting into the hem of the overly large shirt I'm sure belonged to Yoongi that covered her short stature.

"Hi...I uh...I just wanted to say thank you. For ...for last night I mean."

"Last night?" I couldn't help the head tilt of confusion and so I patted the bed before me,signaling her to join me in comfort.

"Well yeah, I mean...with you being the leader and all I just…"

A sharp giggle escaped at her words and the sight of the blush that rushed to her cheeks and the tips of her ears endeared me to her even more.

"Aish,there's no way I could be leader of that bunch of idiots. Nah that's my boyfriend's job." I shook my head,wiping at the tears of mirth that'd dared trace their way down my cheeks.

"You're boyfriend?" She asked with a small tilt of her head.

"Well yeah. Jungkook brought us together. Through all the garbage we've been through he's always been the one to pull us together. Always level headed and keen of eye." I shrugged, reaching for my coffee mug once more only to frown at the lukewarm dregs that remained at the bottom.

Glancing up to Jeanette I gave her a bright smile. "Have you eaten yet? I hope those boys aren't thinking of starving a pregnant woman. Not in this household."

She laughed, smiling brightly as she pointed to the now empty tray beside me. "Of course not. I ate, and actually I was the one who helped Seokjin cook breakfast. He seemed really delighted to have someone in the kitchen to help him."

"Aish, you can cook? That's perfect! Now we won't have to hear Jin complain about never having help in there."

We both burst into peals of laughter, the combined sound startling Jungkook who'd chosen that moment to walk into the room.

"Ya! It's too early for hen cackles! What are you two plotting?" He squinted between the two of us, which only served to increase the giggles between us to full out laughter.

He shook his head, stalking over to his computer desk and rifling through its contents while frowning in our direction every few seconds.

“Kookie, seriously what are you even looking for?” I demanded as I rose from the bed and walked over to his crouched form.

He grunted, shoving a folder out of the way before growling up at the ceiling. “We lost communication with the warehouse last night. I was hoping the codes to the CB radio channels was up here but nobody’s had any luck.”

I shook my head, nudging him out of the way with my hips and pulling the desk drawer open. In less than a moment I’d procured the composition notebook full of codes and thrust it at his chest.

“I swear you’re going to replace me one of these days.” He chuckled as he leaned in to place a chaste kiss to my forehead.

“Like hell I will. Namjoon would be way better suited to it. But that boy’s got the nerves of a heifer in line for the slaughterhouse.” I snorted, turning to give Jeanette a sly wink as I made my way back over to sit beside her on the bed.

“Yeah...well…” Jungkook trailed off, eyes staring off in the distance for a moment as he mulled over the thought.

“All this talk aside though, if we can’t get in touch with the warehouse I’m gonna have to send Yoongi and Hoseok over there to check on things, make sure the boys have holed up out there like they were supposed to.” Jungkook frowned, fist tightening on the spine of the notebook as his worry clouded eyes met mine.

“I’m gonna stay here, keep shit together while we secure the grounds. Think you’re down to go with them?”

The corners of my lips turned down as I mulled over the request. Normally Kook kept me pretty well holed up here at home. He didn’t much like having me out of sight for very long. But I was a much better shot than Taehyung and Seokjin, and Namjoon was much better at getting the logistics of security taken care of.

I nodded grimly, meeting his eyes with as much reassurance as I could muster. “Yeah, I think I can manage it. And besides, somebody’s gonna have to keep an eye on Hoseok with that bum leg of his.”

Jungkook grimaced, heaving a sigh as he made his way to leave the bedroom. “Fucking hell don’t remind me…”

I smiled at his retreating back as he left, turning to see the concerned look on Jeanette’s face.

“Something wrong?” I couldn’t help but ask her.

“I...is it really safe for you to be going out there? I mean, those things…”

I gave her a reassuring pat to her knee. “Don’t worry. I can take care of myself plenty. And while I’m out there I’ll keep an eye out for prenatals huh? At least with me with them those dorks won’t end up coming back with like, Viagra or something like that.”

That seemed to ease her worry as she laughed along with me. Her shoulders finally relaxed and she gave me a genuine smile.

“I really appreciate it. You all have been so sweet to me. I couldn’t have been better off anywhere else.”

I giggle before pulling myself upright. “Hey now, don’t underestimate Bangtan. We’re the fiercest this side of Seoul. Dangerous to the last of us. Careful you might end up corrupt before you even realize it.”

Her eyes lit up as she took my hand. “I highly doubt that. But if anything at least my baby and I are safe.”

***

It was just after noon when Yoongi and Hoseok approached me. They’d loaded up, each sporting bulletproof vests beneath tactical jackets and armed to the teeth.

Yoongi had himself decked out in all black, a snapback tugged low over his eyes and his favored weapon, an M82 50 caliber sniper rifle slung over his shoulder. It was a semi automatic weapon, one capable of taking someone out at just about any range so long as Yoongi could get an eye on them. Though I could tell he doubted he’d have any use of it as he’d also decided on taking his 1911’s, one tucked into each holster on his chest harness.

Hoseok had similarly outfitted himself, though it seemed he’d opted for an AK that he’d slung over his shoulder and for some odd reason a machete.

I quirked an eyebrow at the weapon, receiving a nonchalant shrug and a grin from him in return.

“You always see the good guys with them in horror movies. I figured since we might as well be living one right now why the hell not?”

I couldn’t help the exasperated sigh I gave him. “Isn’t it usually the bad guys that have machetes in the movies?” 

He stared at Jungkook wide eyed who’d just come into the entrance hall to see us off. Jungkook tossed Yoongi the silencer attachment for his rifle before turning to me and gathering me into his arms.

“Stay safe out there huh?” He mumbled, lips soft as they brushed against my own.

I closed my eyes, breathing in the scent of peaches and the coffee he’d been drinking before he came over. “Don’t I always?” I whispered back, planting a kiss on his cheek and giving him a teasing smile.

“Yeah, but this is different. Don’t let those things touch you, and call in on the radio the second you guys get to that warehouse so I know you’re safe.”

I tugged on his sweatshirt, realizing that the material beneath felt far more stiff than it should have.

“Kook?”

“Hmm?” He hummed as he nuzzled into the soft hair that’d brushed over my shoulder and into his face.

“Kook...focus.” I demanded, pushing him back from me slightly. “What the hell is that under your sweatshirt?”

He stared at me wide eyed, stepping back and running his hand through his hair sheepishly.

“Well I…”

“You were planning on following behind us weren’t you?” A scoff of frustration escaped me as I smacked the bulletproof vest he’d thought he could hide beneath his clothes.

“Well...I mean I was just gonna make sure you got to the gate okay…”

“Damn it Jeon. If you were just gonna follow behind us why didn’t you just say you wanted to  come with.” He winced at my tone and Yoongi and Hoseok chuckled at his discomfort behind me.

“I didn’t want you to think I didn’t trust you to get it done.”

“You dense jackass. Go on, get your shit, we’re headed out.” I watched him rush back to the living room, clucking my tongue at him when he’d returned with a long distance radio and a bright bunny grin.

“Didn’t think...idiot…” I turned to usher the boys out of the front door, slamming it behind us as I growled at them in frustration.

“It’s safer if we stick together you ass, no matter if you trust me or not at least this way we have each other’s backs.”

He turned to grin at me, walking backwards down the front steps with his hands behind his head. 

“Did you at least let the others know you were coming with before you left?” I asked, making my way along the curved path of the driveway.

Jungkook nodded, pointing back at the house with his thumb. “Yeah, Jin and Jimin are gonna stick to Jeanette like glue and Joon and Tae are working on getting the feed connected to the military satellites.”

I sighed in reply, watching as Yoongi and Hoseok worked on getting the front gate opened enough for the four of us to slip through.

“Hoseok…” My eyes followed him as he struggled with the large chunk of sheet metal that’d originally served as the garden shed’s door, wincing every time his leg strained to carry his weight.

“Hobi…” The sheet metal finally moved, creating a large enough gap for the four of us to squeeze through.

The former bodyguard huffed, eyes glazed in pain as he grabbed at the knee just above his injury. His eyes met mine and he nodded, stepping back inside the compound.

“Yeah...I know...stay behind right?” He didn’t sound upset with my decision, more so relieved that he wouldn’t be dragging us down.

I shot him a sympathetic smile as Yoongi and Kook pulled him in for side hugs. 

“She’s right. You’re both right, go on back to the house and get some rest. We’ll handle the warehouse.” Jungkook accepted the AK Hoseok handed him, slinging the strap over his head and tucking it against the small of his back after checking to ensure the safety was on. I grabbed the machete from him, grinning widely as I twisted the strap around my wrist and saluted Hoseok with it.

With a few last goodbyes Jungkook and Yoongi slid the sheet metal back into place, struggling with it far less as they were both in far better condition. In mutual silence we began the trek down the dirt road that led away from our compound, each of us eyeing the bushes and various trees at the sides of the road with more reserved caution than usual.

The fresh air honestly felt good and I spent a moment enjoying the dappled sun warming spots on my skin, but the atmosphere seemed tense and only increased as the cooling breeze that brushed us in the wavering heat of the day carried with it the scent of ashes and the faint far off sounds of car alarms and sirens.

We paused at the main road, eyes scanning the lanes from the protection of the trees as we took in the sight of the chaos before us.

It was a 2 lane highway, one that wrapped the entirety of the Daegu city limits but was normally sparsely taken as it led out into the country and most people preferred to stay in the city. But with the situation as it was it seemed the entire population of Daegu had taken to the road, both sides filled to the brim and overflowing with cars and the dead bodies of those that had tried to escape the chaos only to fall to their fate at the hands and teeth of what Jeanette had called the Chatterers.

Many of the vehicles were on fire, all of them abandoned and destroyed in one way or another and those left behind that we could see were the source of the alarms we’d heard before.

“As much noise as there is I don’t see anything except those monsters....” Yoongi muttered. He’d taken out his sniper scope in order to assess the situation and now turned to Jungkook with a critical eye. “Do we risk trying to cross here or find a way around?”

Jungkook held out his hand, taking the scope from Yoongi and taking a look around himself. He grunted after a moment, pointing towards one shoulder of the road that had several cars piled up and burning. The waves of heat of the summer sun rolled off the asphalt, making it hard to see with the smoke billowing from the pileups, but after a moment I spotted it, two bodies shuffling around the vehicles as if searching for the sounds that echoed from the other vehicles.

“Those things are out there, too many for us to take on right now.” Jungkook whispered before continuing his search of the area. I half watched him, anxiety racing through my veins and adrenaline pulsing through my system as my hand fiddled nervously with the strap of the machete.

“There.” Yoongi and I turned in unison to where Jungkook was pointing. A large semi truck was flipped on its side, blocking one lane off completely. Laying across the side of the truck that pointed to the sky was a pile of several dead bodies but the back side of it was relatively free of debris and the area around it didn’t have any of the shuffling monsters that I could see.

“We can get around if we’re quiet enough but we’ve got to be fast.”

Yoongi and I nodded in agreement and the three of us set off, slipping and sliding as quietly as possible down the embankment and onto the asphalt of the highway.

The going was slow, having to duck and dive behind the occasional vehicle in order to pass by the shuffling chatterers but we finally manage to slip behind the truck. We paused, taking a quick moment to catch our breath and observe our surroundings.

The air was thick with smoke and the stench of rot and death. Jungkook covered his mouth, struggling to hold in a gag as I passed out black cloth face masks to each of us before pulling my own hastily over my face. It helped, though only to filter the ash from the air, the smell though fainter now was still very much apparent.

I watched the road around us as Jungkook and Yoongi took out their weapons, screwing silencers onto the barrels as we prepared to make the mad dash to the line of buildings that marked the edge of Daegu.

With a two fingered signal from Jungkook we darted forward, racing through the blood slicked grass. The alley of the first building wasn’t more than a few feet ahead of us but I wasn’t quick enough. I slipped.

The fall seemed almost to happen in slow motion. I could count the blades of grass that came rushing up rapidly to meet my face. I could hear Jungkook let out a shout as one of those Chattering freaks began its single minded rush in my direction.

As my palms met the ground and I began to roll out of the way of the monster’s grasping fingers all while trying not to fall onto the machete blade I watched in mute surprise as something strange and unexpected happened.

It’s head, teeth bared and gnashing only a moment before somehow disappeared in an almost comical puff of pink mist.

I scrambled to my feet, grabbing Jungkook’s outstretched hand and we continued our run, ducking into the alley way and pausing long enough to make sure that neither of us was injured. I looked over to Yoongi and he shook his head, letting me know he wasn’t the reason behind the monster’s sudden lack of head.

Jungkook shook his head no as well, eyes darting through the area before squinting up at the roof of the buildings lining the alleyway as he tried to make out who or what had helped me.

Yoongi tugged on Jungkook’s sleeve after a moment, pointing towards a building down at the end of the block. Our eyes struggled to catch what he had seen but after a moment the front door of the building opened, a small head covered in what looked to be a royal purple bandana poked out before a tanned and dainty looking hand waved hurriedly in our direction. 

Jungkook grabbed my hand without hesitation and shoved Yoongi before us, making it known that he wanted us to accept the unexpected invitation.

We rushed forward once more, making sure to keep our steps as quiet as possible as we shoved through the alley and piled into the building as the woman that had helped us shut the door with a certain sense of finality behind us.

Kook and I collapsed against each other on the wall, breathing almost in unison as we eyed up the woman standing before us.

She was dressed all in black,sleek pants tucked into large black combat boots that looked shockingly similar to the ones Yoongi wore on an almost regular basis even when we weren’t on mission.

Her hair was hidden from sight, tucked neatly into the hijab I’d mistaken for a bandana before. The shirt she wore was large, though the long sleeves were rolled up to her elbows and the large sniper rifle she had slung over her shoulder caused me to shiver. So that explains the pink mist…

Yoongi however seemed extremely pissed to see her despite mine and Jungkook’s words of thanks to her.

“Daphne!” Yoongi almost choked on his words as the young woman smiled at him, pulling him into a tight hug before releasing him and punching him hard in the arm.

“Daphne? As in your ex fiance sniper girlfriend that left you for dead in Morocco?”