Immunity (BTS Fan Fiction) | ABANDONED

Chapter 5: Guns and Fun

"Hurry up! I am not gonna get fucking shot today!"

For such a precious bean, Jimin sure had a mouth. Jin contemplated reminding him that he was a scientist, not an athlete, and running was not his forte. But then a bullet whizzed passed his ear close enough to leave ringing in its wake, and fighting the urge to piss himself took precedence over delivering sarcasm.

"Left!" he shouted instead.

Jimin's arm shot out to grab the wall, his bare feet skidding on the grungy tiles as he boomeranged around the corner. Jin followed with a bit less grace, his sneakers whining under the force of his sprint.

Just to be dramatic, sirens sounded off.

Jimin's head flipped back so fast that Jin worried his neck would snap. "Shit!"

Jin faltered at the flashing red lights, blinking towards the ceiling like there was a god that could dig him out of this hole.

Which was, of course, a mistake.

He heard it first. The popping explosion of a handgun lighting off. The whistle of a victorious bullet finding its mark. Metal on muscle, and then the hissing spray of something red.

Searing pain shredded his left bicep.

"Fuck," Jin screamed, his footsteps shuddering as his right hand shot up to caress the torn open flesh.

Jimin whipped his head behind him, cursing as he took in the sight of his fallen comrade.

He could keep going. Get out of this hellhole. Find Hoseok and run away. Mourn Eomma June properly but never stop running. He could do that. He didn't even know Jin. At the end of the day, the elder was one of them. He was a killer - a murderer. And to make matters worse, he knew he was Immune even as he led those just like him to the slaughterhouse. Jimin should be happy to leave him behind to become Swiss cheese.

Jin gasped sharply as Jimin jostled him, and the younger offered a short "sorry" as he dragged the wounded soldier around the corner. A symphony of gunfire echoed around them, and something grazed the side of Jimin's calf. He released a quiet expletive, but his steps didn't slow. This wasn't the first shootout he'd ever dealt with.

"J-Jimin," Jin choked out.

"I know," Jimin mumbled, ducking just as a pellet of brass ricocheted off the concrete wall right next to his head. The heat of it singed off a few strands of his dark hair, and the scent of burning follicles crept into his nose, earning a slight gag. "Where are we going?"

"Do-own," The elder whined.

Jimin nodded, tugging Jin into the elevator and smashing the button marked with a grimy symbol indicating the lower lot. A downpour of bullets torrented the elevator as the doors took their time closing, and Jimin shoved the elder to the side in order to protect him from the brass. In doing so, of course he earned a few peppered gouges in his arms and even one in his hip, somehow, but the adrenaline that had taken the place of the blood in his veins kept him upright, gritting his teeth against the fuzzy vignette edging around his vision.

But it didn't last long, and by the time the elevator dinged merrily and ushered them out, Jimin's knees were wobbling dangerously.

"H-hyung?" He mumbled.

Jin wordlessly accepted the brunt of Jimin's weight, ignoring his own pain because he had one bullet wound compared to the multiple Jimin's limbs had incurred.

"I got you," Jin promised, fishing his car keys out of his lab coat. Softer as he helped the boy into the passenger seat, he repeated, "I got you."