Chapter Text
Jungkook sat, unmoving on his bed. The small two story house was silent. He strained his ears for the sound of movement. Nothing. He waited cautiously for a few more seconds. Still hearing nothing, he slowly moved to the edge of his bed and gently got off. He had to be very quiet tonight. His parents had been complaining of hearing strange noises at night. Jungkook slowly moved through the darkness off his room, praying and hoping that he didn’t leave his backpack on the floor. He took another slow step forward and relaxed. Maybe he had put it on his desk. Jungkook folded his legs and sank to the floor. The clouds outside moved, allowing faint moonlight to briefly illuminate his bedroom before casting it back into shadows. Jungkook took a deep breath.
Warmth grew on his palm and a soft orange light lit up the room. Jungkook breathed out slowly, watching as the small flame grew and shrank with each following breath he took. He focused, took a deep breath and held it. The flame on his hand spluttered faintly and faded to a gentle glow in the center of his palm. Jungkook counted silently in his head, keeping his breath held. Seven. Eight. Nine. On ten, he let out his breath and felt excitement rush through him as the flame swelled and burned intensely. He sighed and let the flame die down to a fluttering ball. Jungkook looked at the clock and winced when he saw the time. He had been practicing his powers in secret for roughly four years. A late bloomer, his gift appeared when he was 13. Still, he mused. That is probably what had kept him safe for so long.
The Gifted (also referred to as Mutants), were people who manifested power and abilities, sometimes as young as five. Other times the powers could present at a later age, although from what little Jungkook knew, he was a rarity. By the time Jungkook was 13, he had been taught all he needed to know about mutants, at least, according to the school board and government. In school he had been taught about the dangers of mutants. They were bloodthirsty monsters that wanted nothing more then to cause endless slaughter. They were no more human than a wolf or a bear. He and the rest of his classmates were all taught that the first thing to do when you find a mutant is to alert the KMD.
Korean Mutant Defense. Jungkook felt a shiver rack his body just thinking about them. It wasn’t exactly too much of a secret what happened to the gifted that were taken. Although it had never been revealed what exactly happened in there, everyone knew about the experimentation and torture. After all, what better to test medicines, poison and weapons on then creatures that were practically human? Jungkook closed his eyes and shook away the horrible images his mind came up with. He returned his focus to the small flames dancing along his knuckles. He would never tell anyone about his gift. It would be suicide.
He raised his hand closer to his face and felt the heat from the fire. He would never admit it, only thinking to himself secretly, he would always be a little proud of his gift. Proud of what he had taught himself in the darkness of his room, during the late nights. A loud squeak broke him out of his thoughts. Jungkook’s head shot up, panic filling him as his bedroom door flew open. His father’s tall frame filled the doorway, soft light filling in from the hallway. Jungkook extinguished the flames on his hand seconds too late.
“Jungkook, what the hell are you doing up so la-“ His father cut off abruptly, as the room previously filled with light from Jungkook’s flames, dropped back into darkness. There were a few moments of dead silence before Jungkook hesitantly broke it.
“Dad?” He croaked. “I was just…” He was unable to finish the sentence. Jungkook’s father slowly took a step back, his normally kind face becoming as dark as the room Jungkook sat in.
“You were just what?” He exhaled slowly. “Jungkook, come here.” His father’s voice was low and filled with anger. Jungkook didn’t move. “I said, COME HERE!” His father’s voice thundered. Jungkook could distantly hear his mother asking what was wrong from the kitchen downstairs. “Jieun, call the KMD!” He yelled downstairs. Jungkook couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t believe what was happening. Surely, his own parents, his own mother wouldn’t—? Jungkook’s father lunged forward, grabbed his son’s arm and pulled him to his feet. Jungkook began to babble and plead.
“Dad? Dad, I’m so sor-“ His father ignored him and began pulling Jungkook out of his room. Jungkook followed with little resistance. Surely, he could convince his parents to not turn him in. Even if he was a mutant, he was still their son. Jungkook was thrown into the kitchen where his mother stood by the oven, clutching the phone and gazing at him tearfully.
I’m their son. He thought desperately. Aren’t I? His father strode across the room and stepped into the storage closet. “Jieun!” Jungkook could hear him yell as he rummaged through boxes. “I said call them!” Jungkook’s mother made a small choking noise.
“Daehyun,” She started, unsurely. “Are you sure? It’s just Jungkook. We could-“
“He’s a Pyro!” His father roared back. “He’ll cook us in our sleep.” Jungkook’s mother whimpered and began to dial. Jungkook felt desperation begin to curl in his chest.
“M-mom.” He pleaded. “Mom please. I…” He felt himself trail of as he stared into his mother’s eyes. Eyes that were once filled only with love as she gazed at him were now filled with fear. “Mom.” He begged. Jungkook heard his older sister coming down the stairs.
“Guys?” She asked as she entered the room. “What’s going on?” Jungkook’s father came out of the closet, holding a pistol.
“Iseul, get away from him.” He ordered, voice hard and unforgiving. “He’s a mutant.” Iseul gasped, turning to look at Jungkook in shock. “This whole time.” His father snarled. “This whole time we had a monster living in our house. Our house!” He raised the pistol and aimed at Jungkook. Iseul sobbed. “If you even move one muscle…” He threatened, his finger moving to the trigger. “I’ll kill you.” Jungkook felt his face go slack. He felt tears begin to form in his eyes, felt the telltale pricks. Iseul suddenly moved forward.
“Dad. Please.” She pleaded, tears already dripping off her chin. “It’s Jungkook. It’s your son.” She gestured towards Jungkook helplessly. Their father didn’t even flinch.
“I don’t have a son.” His eyes were hard as he stared at the shaking boy in front of him. Jungkook felt something inside of him break. He couldn’t stay here. His mother was babbling on the phone behind him, listing off their address. Jungkook lunged to the side. A loud crack rang out and Jungkook fell down, pain flaring up in his side. He shot me. Jungkook felt tears finally come as he screamed in pain. My own father shot me. Through the pain he heard Iseul screaming.
“Run!” She screamed at him. Jungkook slowly lifted his head and watched as she jumped towards his father and began fighting for the gun. “Jungkook, RUN!” She screamed again. Jungkook moved to get up. Everything hurt and he felt shaky. He stumbled past the wrestling pair and made his way to the door. He fell down off of the front porch.
C’mon. He couldn’t die here. Not here. Jungkook forced himself back to his feet and began to staggered down the street. Where would he go? Where could he go? Jungkook pressed a hand against the bleeding wound and let out a cry at the pain. There was no way that he could get far with this wound bleeding out. His head shot up as he heard the rumbling of a train. The trains. Of course. Jungkook gritted his teeth, put his hand against the hole and took off at a slow jog. If he could get there before the train left, he could shove himself in one of the empty cars. The trains unloaded their crates at this station and left empty. It would be perfect. Jungkook went a little faster.
Blood was pouring down his side at a quick rate, soaking his shirt and pants. Get to the train first, Jungkook thought, panting. Fix wound later. Jungkook winced when he saw the familiar chain link fence. He would have to climb over it to get to the trains. Jungkook fought off the incoming dizziness, and grabbed the top of the fence. One, two, he counted silently. On three he jumped and pulled himself over the fence. His side exp loaded in pain and he fell, landing on his back. The teenager gasped for air, a hand reaching for his wound. He lay there for a few seconds before sirens in the distance brought him back. He had to go.
Jungkook rolled over and got to his feet. The world was blurry around the edges as he raced towards the nearest train that was beginning to move. He grabbed the handle on a door and wrenched it open. He took a deep breath and pulled himself up. Jungkook ended up sprawled out on his stomach in the train car. His side throbbed and he bit back a whimper. Jungkook pushed himself to him knees and pulled the train door mostly shut. He sat in the dark for a few moments, listening as the sounds of the city became distant. He sat propped up against the car wall and wracked his brain, trying to remember where these trains went. Seoul, he realized. They went to Seoul. A throb of pain reminded him of his now biggest problem. Jungkook lit his palm aflame again and looked at his side. His stomach clenched and if he had eaten earlier, he would have definitely lost his food.
His entire side, stomach and thigh were stained red. A puddle was slowly growing around him. The wound was a hole about the size of two fingers. In the center to the gushing wound was a dark, round object. The bullet. Jungkook swallowed. He had to take that out. That’s what they do in movies, isn’t it? His mind was growing foggy. Jungkook decided to not think about it anymore and with a deep breath he dug his finger in and ripped out the bullet. Jungkook let out a hoarse scream and the flames on his hand blinked out for a few seconds. He held the bullet in his shaking fingers and willed the fire back. His said was now gushing even more blood. Jungkook looked at his shirt. It was thin and mostly soaked in blood already. He couldn’t use it as a bandage. What could he do? Jungkook turned his eyes to the flame nestled in his palm and felt his stomach drop. He could…
Jungkook swallowed and fought off the incoming nausea. He could do this. His mind was growing slower and slower by the second. I can do this! He took another deep breath and focused on making his flame stronger and hotter, while keeping it small. Once it was hot enough, he ripped his shirt up and pressed the flame to his skin. Jungkook’s mind went blank and blissfully white for a moment. Then it came back and he was screaming. He couldn’t breathe. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt. Jungkook tore his hand away and let the flame die. He sat against the wall, and breathed. He breathed again and it all went silent and dark. Jungkook let his mind slip away.
__________
Jungkook opened his eyes and was greeted with pain. His side was screaming at him. Jungkook blinked and slowly pushed himself up. The train had stopped. He listened and only heard silence. Jungkook slid the car door opened and poked his head through. The train was sitting near several other trains and a shed. Jungkook decided that this was his best chance and he slipped out of the car. Letting out a groan of pain when he landed, he hobbled away from the trains and towards the nearby buildings. They were old and in various states of disuse. Jungkook slipped into an alley and followed it until he reached a road. There were a few cars here and an older woman smoking on her balcony. Jungkook waited until she looked in the other direction before he staggered across the street and entered another alley. He continued to do this until he was a sufficient distance into the city. The area he was in was bustling with people on their ways to work. So far Jungkook hadn’t come across anyone else in the alleys, although he had gotten close. Jungkook found an area next to an old dumpster and slid down the wall.
He leaned back and slid his eyes shut. The dizziness from last night had returned and mixed with the constant throbs of pain, Jungkook could no longer continue. I’ll just rest for a bit. Jungkook nodded internally. Sleep sounded great at the moment. Distantly, Jungkook noticed the sounds of someone talking. He should probably hide himself better. Jungkook opened his eyes and saw two pairs of legs. He raised his eyes and found two boys watching him.
One of the boys looked to be a little taller than Jungkook and had shaggy blond hair. His eyes were a startling blue against his tan skin. The other boy was shorter, maybe even shorter than Jungkook himself. He had pink hair and dark green eyes. Jungkook’s eyes caught on the sparkling gemstones decorating the boy’s ear.
“That’s really pretty.” Jungkook slurred. The two boys shared a look and the blond one squatted down towards Jungkook. He gave him a small smile.
“Hey kiddo.” His voice was a deep baritone, contrasting with his youthful looks. “You need us to call someone? You’re covered in blood.” He gestured vaguely to Jungkook’s crimson stained clothing. Jungkook shook his head slowly.
“It’s not bleeding anymore.” He felt a hysterical giggle rising up. “I burned it shut. I burned it shut.” He was choking on his giggles as he felt nausea creeping back. “My dad shot me and I ran and then burned it shut.” Jungkook felt tears sliding down his cheeks. The blond boy gave his companion a freaked out look. The pink haired boy spoke up.
“How did you burn it?” His emerald eyes looked accusing to Jungkook, who felt panic burst to life in his chest. He scrambled back, pushing himself into the wall.
“Please!” He blubbered, tears coming fast now. “Don’t tell! I don’t want- I’m not gonna hurt anyone!” He cried harder as the blond boy moved closer, eyes wide.
“Did you burn yourself?” He asked slowly, giving Jungkook a look he couldn't read. “Did you burn yourself… with your hands?” He moved closer. Jungkook flashed back to his father and he felt warmth grow in his hands.
“V!” The pink haired boy yelled, grabbing the blond. Flames burst from Jungkook’s hands, forcing the two boys to scramble back. He took off running down the alley. He had gotten only a few steps before his side screamed in pain. Jungkook saw stars flash before his eyes as he collapsed. He hit the ground, tasted blood and knew no more.