House of Cards by: sugamins

Part 21

It was just as the first bullet hit him that Jungkook woke up with a start. It had been so long since he had last woken up in such a manner that he nearly jerked up into sitting position in shock and he actually heard the whistling intake of breath that he pulled in through his lips. His fingers didn't grab onto skin like he had been expecting, the soft and smooth skin of Jimin's arms, but rather his fingers snagged hold of silken bed sheets instead. That was strange and for a few seconds a hideous sense of disorientation lingered in his mind. Jungkook closed his eyes with a deep groan, just willing the room to stop spinning and for his racing heart to reach a more regular rhythm.

"Suh...shit," he moaned as he reached up to press the heel of his hand against his brow. His head was aching and he wasn't all surprised by this fact. He had drank way too much last night because he had just simply lost control. Jungkook would never had downed so much in normal circumstances but last night had been no such thing. It had been so far from normal that he was still trying to process it. The idea of moving to lie back down wasn't at all appealing because he knew that he had to move his sore head, but sitting upright was far too much for him currently. Jungkook let his breath out in a cracked sigh and then he dropped his head back onto the mound of pillows. He sank down into them and yet the softness didn't stop a dull ache from pounding in the middle of his skull, right behind his eyes like a sharp stabbing pain. He winced and bit down on his lower lip hard, feeling that it was rather dry against his teeth.

It had just been a nightmare of course, a hideous nightmare that had left him sweating, shaking and almost in tears. All that he had done was have a nightmare and there was nothing to worry about, it was perfectly normal to have them. He had had them in the past, he was no stranger to them, but it had been so long since he had last found himself so frightened that the experience felt alien to him.

Back when he had been a child Jungkook's nightmares had never revolved around the dark, around monsters slithering out of cracks in the closet or crawling out from under the bed to grab hold of his ankles. No, back then Jungkook's nightmares had been one of two things. Oftentimes he had found himself haunted by the hideous sights that he had once stumbled upon in his father's office when he had been just five years old, accidentally discovering a police file that had contained images of heavily mutilated bodies. In his nightmares Jungkook had had those sliced up corpses shambling after him, perhaps to mutilate him too, perhaps to dine on his flesh like strange zombies. If not the corpses then his nightmares had all centred around being abandoned; of waking up in an empty home without his mother, his father, even Xue-fang to answer his cries and bring comfort. The marble flooring and glass walls had just caused his sobbing to echo like a siren.

No monsters, just corpses and loneliness.

Upon becoming a young teenager Jungkook had found his dreams had twisted on him, had become strange in nature. Sometimes they had been harrowingly violent and yet he had woken up to find himself aroused; maybe even with wet sheets and underwear. Jungkook had never really understood why but it had just happened to him, and from that point onward his dreams had either fixated on violence or the prettiest face that he had seen for the day. Had he been unfortunate enough to not see a handsome prostitute then his mind had just been filled with faceless bodies instead: faceless bodies with soft skin but strong muscles underneath, with hard teeth and solid organs. The dreams had been better than the nightmares for sure but they had still left him feeling hollow. Until he had met Jimin of course, and the other man had managed to fill some of that void with his warm body and soft voice.

But now, an adult in his own right, Jungkook had had a nightmare about sitting with his father in the Ssangyong and being riddled with hundreds of bullets. He had never been shot before, had never been stabbed or suffered from a crippling injury in the past, but he had been around a great many men that had. The closest that he had come to such an injury had been an accident from his childhood, the scar on his cheek that had been the result of him and Jinwoo playing with an old hunting knife that had seen him almost lose an eye. But regardless of this fact Jungkook had felt the sensation of a bullet punching right through him, hitting him in the throat so that his head had jerked back and slammed against the headrest. That was why he had woken up gasping for air and convinced that he was actually dying, for in his nightmare Jungkook had very much found himself choking on his own blood. Choking on it whilst he had been clawing at his ruined neck. His blood and been so hot against his fingers that he had been rather shocked by the sensation; hot and thick against his bare skin as he had tried to cover the hideous wound.