Forces Working //BTS/Jimin Fanfic//

Epilogue

Monday- April 30

Revy's POV

I'm in the back of this stranger's motorcycle as he takes me who knows where. I would not be exaggerating if I said I am not even sure what country we're in, Hell, I don't know what I look like, I don't even know my own damn name!

Bonnie, that's my fake name. He's speaking to me in Korean, so I guess we might be in Korea?

"So what do we do? Why do we have eight partners!?"

"Well, the Alliance has a few million members, but we're the top eight, which is why we work together, Bon... I know this is a little strange, and you feel out of place, but... We have been dating for four years, and I am sure you'll get your memories back eventually, I just know it."

"So... Um... Clyde?"

"Yeah?"

"What happened to me, I... I died."

"Yes, you did. For two hours..."

"I...  I went to Hell, or a sort of Hell, I just remember pain, in the back of my neck and everywhere..."

"I'm not a believer, but I'm pretty sure you didn't go anywhere. What do I know, right?"

"But those Five days... It was Five days."

"Listen, Bonnie, you're fine now. You'll be fine as long as you're with me. We're partners in crime, hint the names. We don't get our hands too dirty, not unless it's personal. You on the other hand. You don't even have to get your hands dirty, you can while out anyone with a swift motion. All you needed was a gun, bullets, and a silencer and you got the job done with no proof."

"D-did I?"

"I remember when you left your gun at the scene, scratched out the serial number on the frame of the gun, took care of the stamp in the interior, put rubber bands on the grip, that the cops could use to lead to wherever we got the weapon. They even thought the person committed suicide and killed his buddy. Sprinkled gunpowder in the right places and boom, you got away with it."

"I don't remember that. I don't remember doing any of that, how the Hell did I end up I this situation!?"

"Oh, well... You got into crime somehow, I don't remember why exactly, but... Al Capone saw you and demanded a blood test, you reminded him so much of his ex wife, and you kinda had hints of him. That's when he found out you were his. You were his daughter. He didn't want to force you into the family business but, here you are. I don't know a lot about your personal life but I do know you are one Hell of a criminal."

This was all great news, I am a sociopath with daddy issues, who happens to already spill blood. Not to mention I am wanted by the police, oh, and I was dead for two hours. What a thrilling life I don't want anything to do with. If I could just... Is there any way I could get out of this? Should I know anything else?

"I can understand you, I can also speak English, French, and Spanish... That I know so far. Or at least think in those languages. I'm guessing we're in South Korea?" He nodded. "Okay, umm, so my memory is whipped but my language skills, and pretty much everything else is good... I think. What other languages do I know what do you know about me. Anything really, even if it's far-fetched."

"Well... you can speak those languages and more. Think you missed Portuguese, Italian, Japanese, Russian? I'm not sure about that one."

"So I'm a linguist?"

"I guess that too, you're actually really talented. I think we should get to home base, then your dad can give you the extra details."

There's something off, I believe it must be the feeling of coming back to life. Two hours dead? My body would already be deteriorating, wouldn't it? Actually, how do I remember all these weird things but not my life? Why the Hell do I know facts and stupid words!?