ʙᴜʟʟᴇᴛᴘʀᴏᴏғ│ᴛᴋ [complete]

.4-2.

It took a while for all the guests to leave, and when Kim Namjoon thanked once more Jungkook for his hospitality, the latter gently pressed his hand on his arm, a little uncertain. "Would you mind staying a little longer? I want to show you something."

Was it the way his fingers trembled a little, or perhaps the glint of desperation in his eyes? In any event, the barely noticeable fear of rejection convinced Namjoon to grant the young man his request.

"This way," said Jungkook, leading the professor toward one of the rooms which he unlocked using a keypad.

Namjoon laughed nervously. "What do you hide in there, Bluebeard? Hopefully not some corpse—"

Needless to say, he instantly regretted his wisecrack, eyeing what looked like a body covered by a sheer white veil. "Oh dear—"

He was about the turn around and leave before things got messy except his host had already closed the door behind him. Walking toward the home operating table, Jungkook pulled on the cloth, revealing what was underneath.

"Please, professor. Help me fix him."

Six words that did not begin to convey the countless sleepless nights and moments of doubt that had brought him on the verge of depression. Yet six very meaningful words that Namjoon was indubitably going to ponder as soon as he'd manage to make sense of these highly surreal circumstances.

Indeed, among all the possible scenarios that had been playing in his head beforehand, none included the uncovering a familiar face. As he approached his motionless creation, a tsunami of emotions came crashing upon the presently sobbing older man.

Nothing made sense. How? Why? — "There was a-a recall — All KTH units were accounted for—"

Jungkook must have noticed the question marks hanging above the other's head and figured he first had to provide some answers before he could get Professor Kim to agree to assist him. "I can only imagine the number of strings my mother had to pull in order to convince them we had to keep him for the investigation. She probably still owes quite many favours."

Namjoon did not comment on the resourcefulness parents could demonstrate when it came to their child's needs, so Jungkook saw it as a sign to continue. "As you can see, I fixed all the hardware. It's the inner circuits I did not dare fiddle with."

"As a fellow engineer, you must know a good reboot is sometimes all it takes."

Jungkook quickly shook his head. "I don't want to risk his memory being wiped out."

There was an audible sigh. "You're telling me you'd willingly face prison for a humanoid—"

"Prison?"

"Have you not had access to the documents pertaining to — your father's assassination?"

"With all due respect, professor, but what does this have to do with him?"

"Everything." The voice was weak. Apprehensive. And Namjoon's nervousness was contagious.

Jungkook was not sure how to proceed. "The results of the investigation were classified (gosh how he hated the word now) before I turned eighteen. I was never able to access any of the files or reports."

"Probably for the best."

Namjoon finally stepped forward and, despite the highly illegal nature of their present situation, allowed a smile to grow on his lips. "You took good care of him."

"Thank you." Jungkook took a deep breath, a question he'd been dying to ask begging to spill from his mouth. "Who was he modeled after, if I may ask?"

The man's grin dropped. "My younger brother."

"And, where is he now?"

The softness of Namjoon's voice did nothing to smooth the cruel words. "In heaven I would hope. If such a place exists for kind souls like his."

—

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