32: Injured. Not Dead.

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You can't help it.

With the whole tense atmosphere of the situation, and all the emotions roiling around like steam in the air, the pair of arms snatching you around the waist draws out an undignified squawk.

"Pshkah- who is this?!"

You slap wildly at the arms, only withdrawing your attack when a familiar voice whines from behind you, "Ow! Y/N, it's just - ouch! - it's just me!"

You turn your head to peer over your shoulder, revealing a sheepish Jimin. He's dragging you backwards, away from the crowd of men who've gone totally still.

Blinking, you squint your eyes and see why.

As if they've appeared out of thin air, Jin and Yoongi are now on either side of Seoungmin, a gun grasped threateningly in each of their holds.

Their stealth amazes you. You didn't see them hiding, and never heard them approach.

The more you see these men at work, the scarier you realize they can be.

The group of men who are still in the kitchen begin to lunge forward at the threat to their leader's life, but at the first sign of movement, Yoongi whips around on them.

"One more move," growls the black-haired, satanic-spawned man. "I dare you."

Your father's men freeze in their track, tightened into a narrow target by the kitchen doorway.

Jin, on the other hand, doesn't move the focus of his weapon from Seoungmin. His face is set into a mask of cold, deadly beauty.

Namjoon has his hands up as he works to slowly, subtly edge away from Seoungmin's side.

Meanwhile, Jimin's dragging you around the side of the staircase, followed by a limping Jungkook and a frowning Taehyung.

"We're still going to the bathroom?" you mutter in disbelief when Jimin throws open the door.

Jimin's not really paying all that much attention to you, watching the standoff in the entryway with wary eyes. His fingers twitch on your waist, most likely itching to go for the double holstered guns at his own.

Heck, where did they pull all of these guns from?

"If Hoseok said to get in, then you're getting in," says the orange-headed assassin. He releases your waist, hands immediately moving to hover over his weapons. "Now would be good. They can't hold this forever."

You follow Jimin's instructions and duck inside the door. Your footsteps echo inside around the tile floor like the clopping trot of a horse's hooves.

Inside, Jungkook leans weakly against the counter.

All this activity directly after waking up is getting to be too much for his not fully healed body. His shoulders are beginning to take on that droopiness again.

Starting to close the door as he exits, Jimin pauses to take one last look at you. He notices, with an exasperated groan, the laughable lack of weapons among your motley crew.

"Here," says the slender man. "Take this."  He smoothly slides out one of his guns, thrusting the grip at Taehyung.

Taehyung, who stares at the gun like it's a venomous snake waiting to strike him.

You watch with utter bafflement as the silver-haired assassin reaches slowly for the gun. His long fingers are trembling like leaves in the midst of a hurricane, the tremors traveling up his arm and quaking softly in his broad chest.

After what seems like an eternity of slow progress, Taehyung's hands drop in defeat. "I...Jiminie, I can't."

Touch the gun. He can't touch the gun.

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