FIFTY-FOUR

THE CHAOS AROUND Jimin blurs into nothing. He doesn't hear the voices shouting orders, doesn't see the flashing lights of the ambulances outside the building. All he knows is Yoongi.

Nothing makes sense to him, the world around him is spinning. The next 30 minutes were just like a blurred memory. He doesn't hear the hurried footsteps of the nurses or the commotion of the hospital. He doesn't see the concerned faces of strangers or the blood smeared across his own body. His world narrows to Yoongi.

Yoongi's pale face rests against the stretcher, his usually sharp features slack and lifeless. His blood-soaked uniform clings to his chest, and Jimin's hands are stained with the crimson evidence of his failure to protect him.

Jimin stumbles alongside the stretcher as the medics rush Yoongi through the halls. His hands cling to the metal railings, refusing to let go. "You'll be okay," he whispers, his voice shaking. "Stay with me, Yoongi. Please."

The medics push through a set of double doors, but when Jimin tries to follow, a firm hand grabs his arm, pulling him to a stop.

"Sir, you can't go any further," a doctor says, blocking his path. "We'll take it from here."

Jimin's throat tightens. "No." His voice is sharp, cracking with desperation as he steps forward. "I'm staying with him!"

Two other assistants move quickly to intercept him, their hands gentle but firm as they hold him back. "Sir, please," one of them says softly. "He needs immediate surgery. You'll only be in the way. Let us do our job."

Jimin's grip on Yoongi's limp hand tightens as if holding on will somehow anchor Yoongi to him, keep him from slipping away. "I'm not leaving him," he says, his voice breaking. He pulls against their hold, but his body feels weak, trembling with exhaustion and fear.

"Sir," another assistant pleads, "please understand. This is critical. We'll do everything we can to save him."

Jimin's grip falters, his fingers sliding away from Yoongi's as the doctors pull him back. The warmth of Yoongi's hand lingers in his palm as they disappear through the double doors, leaving him standing alone in the hallway, the sound of his heartbeat roaring in his ears.

His knees buckle, and for a moment, it feels like the weight of the world is dragging him to the floor. One of the assistants catches him just before he collapses.

"Sir, you're bleeding," she says, her voice laced with concern. She gestures to his torn sleeves and the blood trailing down his arm. "You need to sit down. Let us treat your injuries."

Jimin glances down, his gaze dull as he takes in the blood soaking through his sleeves and pants. A bullet graze on his forearm pulses with pain, but it's distant, muted by the raw ache in his chest.

"I'm fine," he mutters, pulling away from her. "It's nothing."

"Sir, please—"

"I said I'm fine!" Jimin snaps, his voice cutting through the quiet hallway. The assistant steps back, startled, her expression uncertain.

Without another word, Jimin stumbles to the nearest chair in the waiting area and sinks into it, his body folding in on itself. He drops his head into his hands, fingers digging into his hair as his mind spirals into chaos.

Time loses meaning. The sterile hum of the hospital surrounds him, blending with the muffled footsteps of nursees and the faint beep of machines beyond the double doors. Jimin doesn't notice any of it. His eyes remain fixed on the doors Yoongi was wheeled through, his thoughts a storm of fear and helplessness.

His chest heaves as memories flash unbidden in his mind. Yoongi's smile, warm and bright, like the sun breaking through a storm. The sound of his laugh, soft and low, as they shared secret jokes during quiet nights. The way he whispered Jimin's name like it was the most important word he'd ever spoken.

He can't lose him.

He won't lose him.

"Hyung!"

Jungkook's voice cuts through his mind, snapping Jimin out of his daze. He looks up to see Jungkook and Taehyung rushing toward him. Jungkook's face is bruised, his knuckles raw, while Taehyung's eyes are wide with worry.

"Are you okay?" Jungkook crouches beside him, his hands steadying Jimin's shoulders.

Jimin doesn't answer, his voice caught in his throat. He shakes his head, his lips trembling as tears pool in his eyes. "Yoongi..." His voice cracks. "They won't let me see him. I—" His breath hitches, and he can't finish the sentence.

Taehyung kneels beside him, his voice quiet but firm. "Jimin, he'll get through this. But you're hurt. Let them take a look at you."

Jimin shakes his head, his jaw clenche. "No," he says, the word final. "N-not leaving. Not until I know he's okay."

Jungkook and Taehyung exchange a worried glance but don't press him further.

"What about the others?" Jimin asks hoarsely, his voice barely audible. "Jeongin and Minho... are they okay?"

"They're fine," Jungkook reassures him, sitting beside him. "Officer Yang is uninjured. Officer Lee is stable, but he'll need surgery for his leg."

Relief flickers briefly in Jimin's chest, but it's drowned out by the weight of uncertainty hanging over Yoongi. His eyes return to the double doors, his anxiety mounting with each passing second.

Suddenly, the doors swing open, and a nurse rushes out. Jimin is on his feet instantly, his heart racing as he intercepts her.

"What's going on?" he demands, his voice sharp with urgency. "We're with the patient. Tell me what's happening."

The nurse hesitates, her expression strained. "The patient has lost a significant amount of blood," she says finally. "We're trying to stabilize him, but we need a blood donor urgently. He's type O-negative, which is rare. We don't have enough on hand."

Jimin feels the floor drop out from under him. His hands tremble as he clenches them into fists. "O-negative," he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper.

Taehyung's eyes widen. "Jimin, you're O-negative," he says quickly. "You can help him."

The nurse's face brightens with hope. "You are?" she asks. "That's perfect. Please, come with me."

But Jimin freezes. His chest tightens as a memory surfaces, sharp and vivid. His twin brother, lying pale and motionless in a hospital bed. The fear in his parents' eyes, their grief twisting into something else when they looked at him—a mixture of blame and horror.

Jimin swallows hard, his throat burning. "No," he whispers, shaking his head. "I can't. My blood... it's dangerous."

"Sir, this is critical," the nurse pleads. "If we don't find a donor soon, we may lose him."

Jimin's hands tremble as he grips the pendant around his neck—the bullet Yoongi had gifted him, a symbol of their bond, their love. His vision blurs with tears as he remembers Yoongi's laugh, the warmth of his embrace, the way he kissed Jimin like he was his whole world.

Jungkook steps closer, his voice gentle but firm. "Hyung, he needs you. You might be his only chance."

Taehyung nods, his expression solemn. "If you don't try, he might not make it. You have to take the risk."

Jimin's heart pounds as tears well in his eyes. He clutches the pendant tightly, Yoongi's words echoing in his mind. You are an angel. You are my angel.

He closes his eyes, his mind flashing with memories: Yoongi's laugh, the way he said Jimin's name like it was something sacred, the quiet moments they shared when the world felt far away.

"I'll do it," Jimin says finally, his voice steady despite the fear coursing through him. "I'll give him my blood."

The nurse leads Jimin to a sterile, cold room. It feels clinical, detached from the warmth of life. She gestures for him to sit on the reclined chair, and Jimin obeys silently. The chair creaks under his weight as he settles in, his hands resting on his knees, trembling slightly.

"Are you ready?" the nurse asks gently, her voice calm and steady, as though she senses the storm raging inside him.

Jimin nods stiffly, swallowing hard. But he isn't ready. Not even close.

The nurse prepares the needle, her movements precise and practiced. When the sharp metal pierces his arm, Jimin flinches, but it's not the pain that unnerves him. The real horror begins when he sees his blood running through the thin tube, bright red and alive, flowing into the sterile plastic bag.

It's just blood. Just a part of him. But to Jimin, it's a curse.

His breathing becomes uneven as memories he's tried to bury claw their way to the surface.

He's no longer in the hospital room. He's a child again, standing in the doorway of his twin brother's hospital room. The smell of antiseptic stings his nose, and his parents' sobs echo in his ears.

His brother lies motionless on the bed, his small chest no longer rising and falling. His parents are hunched over, their hands clutching each other as though trying to hold on to something solid in a crumbling world.

Jimin remembers the way his mother looked at him when she turned around. Her tear-streaked face twisted into something he didn't understand at the time—grief, yes, but also fear.

Jimin hadn't understood. He was just a kid. He didn't know that the powers coursing through him, powers he couldn't control, had done this. But the guilt etched itself into his heart anyway. He could never forget the look in their eyes—like he was a monster.

Now, as the blood flows from his arm into the bag, that guilt surges back, suffocating him. His throat tightens, and his chest feels like it might collapse. His parents' faces appear in his mind, but this time, they're joined by the faces of his teammates— Namjoon, Hoseok Jungkook, Taehyung and Seokjin.

What if this kills Yoongi? The thought twists like a knife in his heart. What if they look at me the same way my parents did?

His vision blurs with unshed tears, and his breathing quickens. He can't go through that again. He can't lose Yoongi, and he can't bear the thought of being the reason why.

"Are you okay?" the nurse's voice breaks through the storm in his mind.

Jimin blinks, the world snapping back into focus. He turns his face away from her, and he shakes his head, his voice a hoarse whisper. "No."

Her brow furrows in concern. "Does it hurt?"

"Yes," he replies, his voice cracking. But it's not the needle in his arm or the ache of his wounds. It's the pain of his memories, the weight of his fear, and the unbearable thought of losing Yoongi.

The nurse's eyes soften. "I'm sorry. We'll be done soon. Please hold on."

Jimin leans his head back, staring at the ceiling. His eyes close, and hot tears spill down his cheeks, tracing silent paths over his skin. He doesn't bother wiping them away.

I'm sorry, Yoongi, he thinks, his heart breaking all over again. I'm sorry if this hurts you. But I can't lose you. I can't...

He clutches at the necklace around his neck once again. The metal feels cool against his skin, grounding him for a moment. It's a promise, a connection, a reminder of the love they share.

His mind drifts to the morning before this nightmare began. The way Yoongi had kissed him, slow and soft, as if they had all the time in the world. His fingers had brushed against Jimin's cheek so carefully and lovingy.

That memory feels so distant now, like it belongs to a different life. It's hard to believe it was just hours ago.

I'll get us back to that, Jimin promises silently, the tears falling faster. I'll get us back to a morning where everything feels normal, where I can hold you and kiss you without this fear hanging over us.

The nurse removes the needle, and Jimin barely notices. "You're done," she says softly, her tone kind.

Jimin rises from the chair, his legs unsteady but determined. The nurse says something again—maybe words of reassurance or instructions—but he doesn't hear her. The world around him feels muffled, as if he's underwater. He only knows that he needs to get back to Yoongi.

Walking down the hallway feels like a dream, every step heavy and deliberate. His arm aches faintly from the blood donation, but the physical pain is nothing compared to the weight crushing his chest.

When he enters the waiting room again, the first thing he sees is Jungkook and Taehyung standing by the wall. Their faces are drawn, their eyes filled with worry.

As soon as Jungkook spots him, the youngest strides forward, his arms reaching out without hesitation.

Jimin doesn't resist.

Jungkook wraps him in a strong embrace, pulling him close, holding him together as if sensing that Jimin is seconds away from shattering. For a moment, everything is still. The tension in Jimin's body slowly begins to unravel, but the ache in his chest remains. He presses his face into Jungkook's shoulder, his eyes closing as hot tears slip silently down his cheeks.

Taehyung stands nearby, his presence quiet and steady, watching over them. The waiting room feels unbearably quiet. The only sound is the ticking of a clock on the wall, marking each agonizing second as it passes.

Jimin clings to Jungkook, his body trembling with exhaustion and fear. He doesn't speak, and neither does Jungkook. There are no words for this kind of pain, this kind of helplessness. It's a moment of silent comfort, a fragile reprieve in the chaos surrounding them. But even in Jungkook's arms, Jimin feels the fear lingering, gnawing at the edges of his mind.

He can only hope—desperately, fervently—that this nightmare will come to an end.

-

A/N: Hello again!

Hope you enjoyed this chapter as well!  It was a really tough one for me but I hope you still liked it! :)

Thank you for reading & supporting my book!

Tomorrow I will upload the epilog :)

See you, love you <3