𝑪𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝑹𝒆𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 || 𝑱𝒊𝒌𝒐𝒐𝒌

𝟏𝟑. 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓

As soon as the younger's urgent voice echoed through the kitchen, the room fell into a tense silence. The boys, along with the handful of guards present, turned toward him, their expressions a mix of confusion and concern. The air grew heavy, charged with an unspoken tension as they waited for an explanation.

Taemin inhaled deeply, his chest rising and falling in a deliberate rhythm as he fought to steady himself. Inside, his mind was a whirlwind of panic, but he refused to let it show. He couldn't afford to unravel—not now, not when Jungkook needed him. Every passing second felt like an eternity, his patience fraying at the edges.

"Hyung, call Mr. Lee. Tell him it's an emergency," he instructed sharply, his tone clipped and laced with an undercurrent of impatience. His focus was singular, his thoughts consumed by the limp figure of Jungkook laying lifelessly in his arms.

Mark, ever the pragmatist, hesitated. "But we have Mr. Do. He's always available," he suggested, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

Mr. Do Ji-han, their trusted personal physician and surgeon, was a man of remarkable composure and skill. He had tended to the boys and their soldiers through countless injuries, his calm demeanor and gentle persuasion often diffusing even the most volatile situations. He was one of the few who could handle Jimin's fiery temperament, second only to Namjoon. To many, he was a guiding star—a steadying presence in their chaotic lives. But this was not a matter for a surgeon.

Taemin's patience snapped.

"I told you he had a fucking panic attack, and you're suggesting a surgeon?" he exploded, his voice cutting through the room like a whip. The sudden shift in his demeanor left the others stunned, their eyes wide with shock. "Do you think he can just carve out the trauma from Jungkook's brain like he removes bullets from your bodies?" he retorted, his words sharp and unrelenting.

The room fell silent, the weight of his outburst hanging heavily in the air. The boys exchanged uneasy glances, taken aback by the intensity of Taemin's reaction. They had always known he cared for Jungkook, but this level of protectiveness was something they had only ever seen him extend to the six of them. It was unsettling, yet it underscored the gravity of the situation.

Taemin exhaled sharply, his frustration evident as he took in the stunned faces of his brothers. Realizing they were too shaken to be of much help, he turned his attention to the soldiers stationed at the entrance. "Take him to my room," he ordered, his voice firm and commanding. "And lay him down gently on the bed."

But when he saw Jungkook being handled carelessly, his composure shattered once more. In an instant, he was across the room, his eyes blazing with fury. "If you value your heads, you'll carry him properly," he warned, his voice low and dangerous. The soldiers froze, their faces paling as they recognized the look in his eyes—a look that promised consequences if they dared to defy him.

It was the same determined expression that had earned Taemin his reputation within the mansion. When he wore that look, he was no longer the cheerful, carefree boy they knew. He was someone else entirely—someone who would stop at nothing to protect what mattered most. And right now, what mattered most was Jungkook.

The soldiers nodded hastily, adjusting their grip on the unconscious teacher and moving him with utmost care toward Taemin's room. Once they were out of sight, Taemin wasted no time. He grabbed his phone, his fingers trembling slightly as he dialed the psychiatrist's number. Fortunately, the doctor was familiar with Taemin, having treated him for the past four years. After a brief but urgent conversation, the doctor agreed to come immediately.

✶⊶⊷❍⊶⊷✶

As soon as the psychiatrist arrived at the mansion, he was swiftly escorted to the room by two soldiers. The atmosphere in the hallway was tense, the sound of hurried footsteps echoing against the walls as they led him to the heart of the unfolding crisis.