#yonggu

Daehyun watched the two best shots of the team battling it out with the enemy side-by-side. Serving each other as backup and as a friendly reminder than now, no matter what tea they once had to spill about each other and no matter what bloody arguments they had had at some point, they were one whole. Two cogwheels of the same mechanism that had to maintain in working order as if one went down, the other would follow soon enough. So there was no way one could turn back now.

Being under gunfire, Daehyun reloaded his gun and, with a few shakily aimed shots that hit the targets a little worse than he wanted them to, made his way out of his hideout and into another one. One that was closer to Yongguk.

Closer to the most intimidating person he’d seen in his life.

He was someone to seemingly be in his right mind, yet put little value into his own life despite all sane thoughts and conclusions. His strategy had always been all-or-nothing, guaranteeing him getting all on every occasion so far. He knew how it was to get his hands dirty, he wasn’t afraid to grab onto the enemy with bare hands to use them as a living shield the very next second, just to steal them of their life by yanking their useless frame to the side with an elbow, but not before exchanging his empty, unloaded gun with theirs. 

Jongup had always been considered the merciless animal of the team. The lowest type, whose eyes shone in the darkness like the ones of a cat when he saw a chance to stain the pavement with red. But at moments such as these, Daehyun wondered if it wasn’t Yongguk instead. If the peaceful and against violence Yongguk that he had heard of in tales had ever turly existed, because it sure didn’t look like he did.

Another thing about him was that he never had the need to avoid shots. For that, he had Junhong.

The kid who owed his life to him, and had been said to be a weakling by many. Having been called characterless and empty, having been called a bundle of fear who blindly obeyed a man who put no value in his life just because he didn’t know what else to do, and didn’t have the guts to try.

But Junhong was different, and those who knew never viewed him as anything but brave and a little out of his mind for all of the stunts he pulled just to serve Yongguk. All of the flips, the jumps through half the battlefield in order to follow his leader around, to keep him backup while he did his thing. Because no matter who was the actual leader, Yongguk was always leader to him.

Too much thinking and too little acting was Daehyun’s issue. And hell, he always knew he had an amazing team around to cover his mistakes. To make it up for the fact he was significantly weaker than the others when it came to shooting and dodging bullets, and to, all together, deal with the job just to walk out of the scene as six. Never less than that.

Things were never supposed to last forever, were they?

He first understood it then and there, as Himchan’s frame got in front of him by chance or by intention - he had no time to realize or ever find out, as a bullet hit Himchan’s chest in just the next second, jolting his frame up with a force that had his eyes widening in seconds, a thin trail of blood making it’s way down his chin as Daehyun finally reacted by pulling him into his arms and pinning him to a nearby column.

Daehyun held him close to his chest, letting his frame slide to the floor slowly. He was afraid to pull away and look, afraid to see Himchan breathing heavily and with half-closed lids telling Daehyun to move it - he wouldn’t be able to anymore, but Daehyun might.

He was not only afraid of it, but wasn’t about to let that happen. All of his instincts told him to take exactly one second to face Himchan, look into his eyes with determination to spill one simple phrase.

“Take it easy now, leader. Let us cover you and we will make it out alive.”

Yet before he could do anything, Himchan suddenly pushed him harshly almost face-down to the side, jolting up to a standing position and taking a few last, well-aimed shots before receiving another to the chest.

And another. And another.

And after the fifth, as he crashed to the ground with only a mere thud, Daehyun found himself close to tears. He had been too slow again, without enough authority to prevent what had just happened. Had been too afraid to move when he needed to. Had always received backup, and the one time he needed to give it instead of receive, had failed his team but most of all, his leader.

Himchan wasn’t getting up anymore. Ever.

He remembered seeing him in the car with a stranger, exchanging paperwork for what seemed to be a fortune in cash. Recalled how he had never spared a word about it with the others, only smiling in return and sipping on his wine when hearing mild praise for getting his hands on all needed information in no time. He recalled the simple message the back of one of his given pages read, stating a possible assignment that, when first read, sent chills down his spine.

“Kill Himchan.”

And when he himself was the one to receive one to the chest, only then he snapped back to reality. With pain taking over his already burning lungs, his eyes becoming even more watery than they were, he knelt down, and extended a shaky arm into the direction of the shooter. And even though he didn’t see it, he knew the guy was smiling underneath his mask. And knew he was smiling even more when he landed another one, making Daehyun fall back against the same column he had just pinned his leader against seconds ago.

How could’ve he been stupid enough to ever doubt Himchan? How could’ve he ever been suspicious about him while all facts were clearly against this mad theory?

How comes that when Himchan faded into the darkness just how, he initially thought of all of the doubtful moments and not their first meeting, when his existence in the team wasn’t doubted by him and only him of all. Or the time he found him in a bar drunk beyond belief and spared him an ugly outcome in a fight with one of the locals by sorting all and tugging him out the scene? Hell, how comes Himchan never shot Daehyun in that alleyway when he was stupid enough to actually attempt to kill him, without any heart or proper evidence?

No time for that right now. The dead can’t speak anyways, so he might never know.

“Jongup-ah!!”

And neither will Jongup.

Throug foggy eyes, his breathing heavy as tiny whimpers of pain escaped him from the freshly pierced holes through his flesh, his eyes landed on Youngjae. The veins on his neck exposed and his facial expression cramped as he sprinted forwards full-force, crying out loud while shooting down what seemed to be two men all at once, grabbing Jongup’s slumping frame into his arms from behind.

“Youngjae-ah.. Behind you..”

But it was no use. Daehyun was too far away, and Youngjae was too caught up in emotions. He saw him sinking against a few boxes with Jongup still in his arms, saw him screaming at Jongup to get up. He faintly, through statics, heard him calling Jongup an asshole, screaming at him to stop playing around just to apologize right after. He heard him begging for this to be a lie, and saw him throwing his head up to face the ceiling in a pained, broken scream that filled the whole place.

And got immediately silenced when a bulled hit the back of his head, ruining his hair that he always complained about never being able to style properly. But it didn’t matter now. He wouldn’t have to do it ever again anyways.

Simultaneously with the shot, another cry for help could be heard from not far away. Not daring to look into Junhong’s direction who seemed to scream bloody murder, Daehyun swore under his breath, and cursed at having to see all of this and not be able to do anything. But Junhong suddenly sounded so tiny and so desperate - like the kid he had always been, because despite having been tugged into this mess at a young age, he had never truly become an adult. Had never grown up properly. He had always stayed the kid with the vulnerable heart and all the loyalty this world could offer.

He should’ve known. If it was for Junhong himself, he would’ve never screamed.

Yongguk’s body was being yanked up and down by a whole shower of bullets hitting him. His eyes foggy and mouth agape as he finally slumped to the floor, his fragile frame causing no noise whatsoever as it went down. And Junhong, losing his mind when he openly jumped into the gunfire, his last pathetic attempts to save the person that had once saved him doomed to be unsuccessful. His eyes filled with tears as he continued to shoot, and Yongguk did too, with everything that was still left of his barely functioning body. Junhong’s hand finally tangling into Yongguk’s jacket, a mild victory smile on his lips as he gulped, and Daehyun imagined what was going on inside of his head.

“We’re going to make it, leader. I’m going to serve as your backup, as I’ve always done it. Up until the very end.”

Yet it faded as Yongguk received another shot, and Junhong, upon seeing his leader’s eyes rolling back and his arm dropping to the floor, knew he had failed. Knew that Yongguk had put all of his trust into him to back him up, yet he had failed the person who mattered the most to him in this life by letting him die.

By not tugging him back to safety, although only when he received one to his chest himself, he found out how much it hurt. And how, judging by the fact that Yongguk received at least ten, he wouldn’t have made it anyways.

Daehyun watched the scene. He watched all of the bodies that were scattered all across the floor, seeing some men taking last shaky breaths before their eyes closed to never open again. He cried out at the next painful sensation coursing through his own chest, and felt tears rolling down his cheeks at how much it hurt. Not only because his heart was probably physically damaged, but because he had just witnessed the death of all who ever mattered to him.

Apart from one.

Youngjae’s lifeless arm flying up and falling back onto the ground was the first thing that caught his attention, and honestly, it didn’t take him by that much surprise as he saw a familiar, well-build frame slowly rising from the ground.

Rising like a phoenix from the ashes. The fucking betrayer.

His first few steps were a little shaky - he was still experiencing chest pains from the impact of the bullet, and the only thing that Daehyun was grateful about was that now, after all that had just happened, he didn’t look like a fucking model when he stood there, half-smiling at all the caused damage before spotting Daehyun still alive, and made his way to him, running a dirty hand through his jet blue strands of hair.

He always looked as if the battlefield was his fucking catwalk. And Daehyun found it soothing to see him finally, for once, looking a little less graceful than he usually did. Even if just a little.

As he knelt down to throw Daehyun a last stare, Daehyun felt humiliated. His bloody fingers clenched at the gun he was still holding in his hand, and Jongup watched with amusement as Daehyun tried hard to lift the object towards him. His eyes were sparkling with satisfaction as his lips curled into a smile, and he felt his heart fluttering as the cold metal object pressed onto his chest ever so lightly. It struck a nerve or two inside of him, and boy, did he feel excited about getting to know how it was to get shot in the chest. The blood draining out from the physical body ever so lightly, followed by the life as a whole. Daehyun was even lucky in some type of way. To Jongup, death has always looked so fucking  tragically beautiful that he was even jealous of the ones he killed.

It was such a nice feeling, actually. To be threatened by someone so weak and so useless, someone who was no threat at all - it was a feeling that brought satisfaction to his messed up head. He loved being dominant over somebody so easy to put to eternal rest. He loved playing it dirty and making himself king. Getting trust to shatter it, as the trembling lips and silent tears of teammates were a thing to power his whole being.

“Let me help you with this.”

Daehyun felt a cold hand wrapping around his own, and all he could do was cry. Not because he was about to die, but because there was nothing he could do to prevent it. Nothing he could’ve done to prevent all of this actually.

It had never been Himchan, whose exchanging-money-for-info nightly adventures were a thing to guarantee their survival and not vice versa. It had never been Yongguk, whom Daehyun once caught burning up files of mysterious origin so no other could see them - burning things up had seemingly just been a tick of his all along. And it had never been Junhong or Youngjae whose constant arguments lied in their guilty pleasure of secretly being money greedy. It had never been any of them

It had always been fucking Jongup. Jongup, who now that it’s been laid down on a silver plate, was obviously the one behind all of this. Behind the kidnapping. The picture shoved into Daehyun’s hands as evidence. The address given, and the gun pointed at him once he arrived. Behind all of the hints, all of the tries to set down wrong trails. All of the messages, all of the doubts set into Daehyun’s head, and not because he favored Daehyun most of all or thought it was specifically amusing to see especially him and not anyone else suffer. Because he was the one to have the purest heart of all. The one who would rather die from the caused heartache than the physical pain. And if that wasn’t the most pathetic thing to Jongup - to die from heartache -  he didn’t know what was.

All of the lives taken this very day were on his damn hands, after all.

On Jongup’s hands. Jongup - the one who had the guts to point a knife at his leader just days prior to this incident, and everyone for some reason let it slide. Because he had always been considered the insane one. The one missing screws, who from time to time acted this way, as everyone was convinced he was simply insane, and actually meant no harm to them.

“I hope they carve your guts out with a knife next time around. You’ll like it, I’m certain.”

He wasn’t about to let more compliments crawl into his ears, even though they did seem pleasant, and threw Daehyun a last, wicked smile before pulling the trigger, having placed the gun night under his chin.

Having officially gotten rid of all of B.A.P, as he didn’t count. All he had ever been all along was a fucking faulty model.

He rose to his feet, feeling hot all of a sudden. It was far from being warm beach weather outside, yet he felt the need to dispose of close to all of the clothing there was. Maybe because he was hot. Maybe because he wanted their corpses to see.

To see what had made him so bulletproof. It wasn’t the trust between teammates that Himchan had once claimed to be the key to becoming bulletproof, and wasn’t the concentration and reliability Yongguk one quietly muttered as reason. It was not a perfectly thought-through plan as Youngjae had stated, and wasn’t the feeling of being responsible for teammate’s lives as Junhong had told.

It wasn’t the fact that they had gotten as close as family, which Daehyun had said in a half-drunken state once just weeks ago. None of that cheesy teamwork stuff ever got through Jongup’s thick skull anyways, as while they all relied on each other, he knew the truth.

He knew Himchan’s inattentive nature that let a few details slip here and there, since he wasn’t leader by default. Knew Yongguk’s phases of depression that had him with no purpose in the team, making him an unnecessary weight to drag along from one mission to another while looking out for his reckless nature constantly. He knew Daehyun’s lack of skill, and how it affected the whole team, meaning they had five and a half instead of six members most of the time. He knew Youngjae’s loud remarks just as good as he knew how fucking afraid this kid was all the time, and not of bullets - of the times his head was empty and without plan, which made him motionless and an easy target. And he knew Junhong’s beautiful yet to some extent even obsessive devotion to Yongguk, which has caused him various issues all through the years, as he would often disobey any commands if it meant leaving his hyung’s side.

He knew he wasn’t without fault either, but he knew it would end like this anyways, if he stayed loyal or not. Because, to be honest, they were far from being the Best Absolute Perfect as they always jokingly said they were, and would never get to such a level. Because things never end well, and he was just kind enough to rush the process a bit.

And to make sure to grab his bulletproof vest if he was at it, since that was the actual one and only thing that could make a person bulletproof. Because none of those moral things really did it, and as he said it out loud the them once, no one believed him and laughed at his face.

Now he was the one to smirk, throwing a last glance at his members before his clicking boots lead him out of the place and into the pitch black streets. Their teamwork had resulted in them lying lifeless on the floor, while he was marching out and back into the life he was used to with his head held high. With his soul still attached to his physical body. And with no guilt whatsoever to killing the people who put their lives in his hands because they trusted him and gave him a purpose. He had sure warned them he was not in his right mind, so they couldn’t possibly complain.

Whatever saved his own skin was appropriate. If it was Himchan, Yongguk, Youngjae, Junhong and Daehyun’s blood smeared on the pavement, he’d gladly let it happen. And the only thing that truly concerned him as he stepped out into the street and vanished before the sirens reached him, was that life would be a bore for a while now once again.