The White Butterfly

Ten

The town is a wreck. Dead soldiers lie in the streets next to the corpses of the children they murdered. Jungkook is covered in dirt, blood, and sweat, but he is alive, moving, running past the still-blooming flower fields in all their cruel glory.

He runs and runs and runs, unable to stop. But no matter where he goes, he finds the same scene. Corpses. Blood. Open, unseeing eyes fixed on his body as if accusing him.

There is no escape.

"Jungkook, wake up."

Jungkook whimpers, reaching out, and Taehyung takes his hand. Yoongi's hand wraps around theirs, sheltering Jungkook's with its weight.

"You're safe here," Yoongi says.

Jungkook sighs. Taehyung pulls him against his body, squeezing his hand, but he can't quiet the unease that ripples through him. Yoongi promised not to use his powers on Jungkook, and Taehyung, after some pressure, had agreed.

Now Jungkook wonders whether it was wise. Taehyung's presence still comforts him, but there is something off, as if he's afraid of holding Jungkook the way he did before.

Jungkook wants to go back to the first morning, when it was easy for Taehyung to soothe him.

"Do you want to eat anything?" Taehyung asks.

Jungkook blinks, sighs, and shakes his head. "No, thank you."

Taehyung hums, squeezing his hand again. "Water?"

"No, thank you."

"I'll bring something up," Yoongi says, letting go of Jungkook's hand and getting out of bed. "I need to talk to Namjoon anyway."
Taehyung sighs. Jungkook closes his eyes, relaxing against Taehyung's body, and drops off again, heedless of the way Taehyung shifts to watch Yoongi leave.

***

Namjoon calls him up to the office where they first met the next day. Jungkook obeys the summons more because Taehyung walks him there than because he actually wants to go. When the door closes behind him, Jungkook stays beside it, watching the man on the couch with his arms folded.

"Have you rested well?" Namjoon asks.

"Yes," Jungkook says.

"Would you like to sit down?"

Jungkook stays where he is, arms folded.

"Jungkook," Namjoon says. It's a groan, mixed with a sigh, mixed with a growl. "I never had any intention to push you over the edge."

"No one ever does," Jungkook mutters.

Namjoon's head snaps up. "What?"

"What?" Jungkook asks, eyebrows raised.

Namjoon sighs, putting his head in his hands. "Why didn't you tell us?" he asks. "We wouldn't have pushed you. We're not here to force you to fight."

Jungkook fiddles with the hem of his sleeve and doesn't answer. Namjoon watches him, frowning, then says, "I don't understand, Jungkook. What's going on?"
Jungkook looks down at his feet. He isn't sure what to tell Namjoon, or how. Should he mention his nightmares? His inability to control his powers? The lingering paranoia about their intentions for him?

He's no stranger to the rumors about other people marked with the white butterfly. How valuable they are once they submit to someone's control. How their powers are envied, coveted, hated. If these men are so determined to make him feel included here, they must want him to do something for them.