His Buried Past| Taekook

Chapter 11

"Is everyone clear what were doing?" Jungkook looks grimly at his hyungs as they all check their weapons.

Hoseok nods, "I'm bypassing the security and cutting the cameras."

The leader nods, "Jin, you cover Hoseok. Namjoon and Jimin, you're covering the exits with your teams."

Namjoon nods, while Jimin sends a quick, reassuring smile to his boyfriend, before remembering one important detail, "Jungkook, what if we run into V?"

The leader stiffens at the mention of the strange assassin. He'd refused to think about the odd interest he'd developed for the masked man. Their interaction on the balcony had left him confused and unable to sleep for days. It was only the news of Taehyung that had distracted him. "Try not to engage him if you can avoid it. But if he gets in the way, take him out. The most important thing is capturing Byun Baekhyun."

The Byun compound

V shot up in bed, gasping and clutching at his chest, his eyes darting around the darkened room he was staying in. His baggy white t-shirt was slipping from one shoulder, his ash-colored hair a tangled mess, sweat dotting his forehead. Pushing his hair back, the young man gazes blankly at the curtains covering the window, before sighing and climbing from his twisted sheets. It was useless trying to go back to sleep, he knew that, so he decided to go down to Baekhyun's kitchens for a drink. Grimacing, he pulls his mask on. This was one part of staying with Baeki-hyung that he dislikes, the need to wear his mask every time he leaves his room, due to the staff and guards that were always present.

Wearing his mask, his baggy shirt, and boxers, he hesitates before pulling on his gun harness and strapping his daggers to his thigh. He technically knew he was safe at the Byun mansion, but it wasn't his home, and he just didn't feel secure without some of his weapons. Padding down to the kitchens, he nodded at the guard standing at the end of the hallway. Pouring a glass of juice, he remembered the dream that had woken him. Normally, he couldn't remember his dreams, only the feelings they gave him. But lately he was starting to remember pieces of the dreams.

Flashback

He cuddled deeper into the covers, feeling his lover's broad chest pressed against his back. He was sore from the previous night, but he felt so warm and happy where he was. His attempt at falling back asleep was disturbed when he felt lips pressing kisses against his neck, drawing a soft moan from his throat, "Kookie..."

Abruptly, the dream changed. He was no longer safe in the arms of his lover, instead he was lying in a puddle of his own blood, a hand harshly yanking his head back by the hair, bile rising in his throat at the feel of teeth biting at his ear. Tears streaming from his eyes, his thoughts are repeating one desperate plea, 'Kookie, please help me...'

Shaking away the pieces of the dream, V exhaled, his thoughts in a turmoil. 'Who is Kookie? Are these just bad dreams, or memories?' Washing the glass, he goes to head back to his room.

Climbing the stairs, he freezes, his instincts kicking in as he hears an unusual thud from the hallway above. He's heard that sound often enough to know what it sounds like when a person hits the floor. Quietly, he pulls one of his guns, crouching to keep his body low as he continues up the stairs. As he reaches the top, he peeks around the corner towards the bedrooms and can make out the crumpled form of a guard on the floor. His blood pumps quickly in his veins as the thrill of hunting prey begins to kick in.

Normally, he'd be concerned about Baeki-hyung and Chany-hyung. But luck was on his side tonight; they'd been called to an urgent meeting in Tokyo earlier, and instructed him to stay here while they took a separate team of bodyguards. Silently, he pads down the hall, his bare feet not making a sound.