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Seokjin's head is throbbing when he finally regains conscious. His body is cold and he can practically feel his heartbeat pounding at the back of his head. He raises it a bit, and touches it with his palm, wincing a bit. 

Checking his palm he notices blood. Damn. That guy must've hit him with something hard. 

Sitting up, he tries to recall what he can. The throne hall, the man with the gun, the gun out the window and then getting hit and knocking out on the floor. 

He glances around. This isn't the throne hall. He knew he couldn't be so lucky. The percentages of the shooter leaving him there on the floor were low, especially since he saw his face.

At least, he thinks he saw the guy's face. He doesn't really remember it. All he knows now is that he's locked up in some cell. He wasn't even sure if this was the palace dungeon or god knows where else they could've taken him.

A sigh escapes him. Well, so much for Jaehwan's plan. Seokjin had been so close. What now? Was everything ruined because of him? 

Sitting there in that cell brings him to think about a lot of things. Specifically, the mess he got himself in. Had he never gotten that letter his mother could be alive, Taehyung would be finishing high school and Seokjin would be stressing his life away till graduating till college. Yet here he was planning escapes, fake deaths and now possibly rotting away in a cell.

Funny how all of this wasn't working out. Maybe the universe just didn't want him and Namjoon together. Maybe he wasn't meant to be the king's spouse. Cause it sure did seem like everything was trying to pull them apart.

Closing his eyes, he thinks of Namjoon. If Seokjin wasn't going to be by his side, then he sure hoped that the person who would be in spot could help him find himself. To bring out Kim Namjoon and not just his fascade as the king. Namjoon needed saving. But then again, everyone needed to be saved from something. Whether it was from other people or themselves, or because they were falling apart in a world that seemed to want nothing to do with them, everyone needed saving.

Right now, for instance, Seokjin needs to be saved from this unfortunate situation.

Some muttering brings him out of his thoughts. Seokjin frowns as the sound seems close. Almost right next to him. He pushes himself up, wincing, and crawls towards the sound, peeking through the wooden bars of the cell.

"Park Sungwoong-ssi?" he asks once he gets a good look at the other's face.

In the cell next to his, Jimin's dad raises his head. It's been almost a week since the man had been taken away the night of the party. He was still here?

Park Sungwoong squints to get a better look at him. Seokjin wonders if he looks a mess. He feels as if he's rolled around in dirt. "Ah, you," Park says, "Weren't you dead?"

Seokjin's face drops. Nice to know that the man hasn't learned manners even after being locked up for a week. "I probably am," he says. Or he will be. "Where are we?"

"The palace dungeon. The fucking king sent me here and hasn't let me out since."

One of Seokjin's brows raises slightly. "Well, you kind of deserved it."

"Whatever," Park snaps. "What are you in for? Did you try to rape the king?"

Seokjin stares at him agape. "What?" he hisses. 

"Yeah that's probably it, right? That's what you homos do. Rape little boys and all that. You probably did something to my son too, that's probably why he turned out a faggot."

What?

No. Oh, no. He was not in the mood for this and most certainly is not going to sit here and take this man's shit. He lunges forward, reaches his arm through the bars and yanks the man towards him, smashing him against the wood. Park just lets out a loud grunt and a "what the hell?"

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