Chapter Text
Brittany Flores' eyes fluttered open as she regained consciousness. She was tied to a chair in a dimly lit room, head throbbing. "Wh-where am I? What's going on?"
"Look who's finally awake." A familiar voice but through the haze.
Brittany looked up to see an alpha casually leaning against a table, scrolling through her phone. "Jooah, what is this? Untie me right now!"
"Easy there, Doc." Jooah said flippantly. "No need to get all worked up. And I think you know exactly what this is. You've been busy. Lotta calls for someone with nothing to say."
Brittany tugged against the ropes binding her. "It's not what you think! I can explain! I swear! Just let me-"
"Let you what?" Another familiar voice sent chills down Brittany's spine. "Make another call to the bastards you tried to sell us out to?" Footsteps echoed as Yoongi stepped out of the shadows, his gaze sharp and unforgiving. "If you're waiting for backup, Doc, you should know that all those calls went straight to voicemail. Except one." He removed his suit jacket deliberately, folding it over a chair.
"Then what are you doing, Yoongi?" Brittany asked. "What am I doing here?"
Yoongi didn't reply, just rolled up his sleeves, revealing the subtle scars that marred his forearms. And only then did Brittany notice the plastic laid out on the floor spread beneath her chair. The gun at Yoongi's waist. "Cleaning up your mess." Yoongi pulled the pistol from his waistband. Sudden understanding washed over Brittany, colder than the grave. "But first, I'll give you one chance to redeem yourself. To die like an alpha instead of a sniveling traitor. Who did you talk to on that call?"
"N-no one, Yoongi." Brittany whimpered. "Please. We've known each other for years. You have to know I'd never betray the family."
"That's what I used to think, Doc." Yoongi raised his hand, cocking the pistol as he leveled it at Brittany's forehead. "But we both know that you already did."
Brittany's phone started to ring in Jooah's hand. Jooah raised an eyebrow at Yoongi and answered the call, putting it on speaker. "The good doctor can't come to the phone right now. Care to leave a message?"
"Just let him know I’m sending someone to clean up my mess." With a click, the line went dead.
Jooah moved to a nearby window, peering through the blinds. "Bad news. Black SUV pulling up fast."
Relief flooded through Brittany for a single glorious second. "They came for me. Thank god."
Yoongi turned to Brittany, the cold fury in his gaze snuffing out any hope she had left. "You can thank him in person." A single gunshot echoed through the room. Then the door crashed open and armed alphas stormed in, guns blazing. "Jooah, move!"
***
Sirens wailed as an ambulance screeched into the hospital bay at Franklin Memorial Hospital. Before it even stopped, Jimin rushed forward to meet it. The ambulance doors swung open and Jimin locked eyes with the EMT inside. "What are we looking at?"
"Patient is an omega in her mid 30s, possible C spine injuries, ejected from her car without a seatbelt. She has deep bruising to the abdomen, rigid stomach, open facial lacerations. Previously alert but now unresponsive."
Jimin helped wheel the gurney out and did his best to stabilize the patient. His mind raced as his attending physician joined him. "Jimin, where do we start?"
"Her most pressing injury is the C spine." Jimin said. "We'll need imaging so we can see just how bad the damage is. Otherwise, we risk paralyzing her if we jostle her too much."
Dr. Anderson nodded. "Good eye. Let's get her to imaging now!"
Together with the team, Jimin wheeled the patient inside as quickly but carefully as possible. "I'll prepare the OR and scrub in for surgery."
Another doctor took the patient's gurney toward imaging but Dr. Anderson placed a hand on Jimin's shoulder to stop him. "Sorry, Jimin, I'd love to reward the quick thinking by letting you cut but there's no surgery to scrub into. The patient doesn't have medical insurance. The new policy is to stabilize and transfer uninsured patients to General Hospital."
Jimin looked at him incredulously. "You're kidding, right? So we're supposed to just ignore his needs because he doesn't have some company paying for him?"
Dr. Anderson frowned. "I'm sorry, Jimin, I don't like it any more than you do. But policy is policy."
"Fuck the policy!" Jimin exclaimed. "There has to be some loophole! Some exception for patients in crisis!"
"I wish there was." Dr. Anderson shook his head. "But we can't work miracles, Jimin. We have to work within the system."
"Then fuck the system too." Jimin said. "I chose this residency program to learn how to help people. How am I gonna do that if the hospital turns away people we could operate on?"
Dr. Anderson bit his lip before sighing. "While he's in imaging, I do have a few minutes. Do you want to learn the procedure I would perform on her if we could admit?"
Jimin nodded eagerly. "I'd love to learn anything you can teach me."
"Excellent." Dr. Anderson smiled. "Follow me to the surgical lab."
In the lab, Dr. Anderson set up a piece of simulated muscle tissue with a tear down the middle as Jimin prepared the surgical tools. "You know all the basics you'll need for a myoplasty." Dr. Anderson said. "It's just a question of how you apply them and when."
"What thread do I use?" Jimin asked.
"Thick nylon." Dr. Anderson answered. "Anything too thin will just shred the muscle fibers further."
Jimin winced at the image. "Copy that. How should I hold the needle and thread?"
"Good question." Dr. Anderson said. "For some procedures you want a delicate touch. But not here. You need a firm grip to get through those muscle fibers. They can be tough. You just have to show them who's the boss."
"I think I can handle that." Jimin said. "When is myoplasty necessary?"
"Any time muscle tissue has been torn apart." Dr. Anderson said. "You may see more minor or major injuries but the same procedure applies. Now watch closely. First we need to manually realign the torn muscle fibers." He demonstrated on the simulated tissue, holding the sides of the wound closer together until they were aligned. "Next you need a row of straight even stitches. Start with a thicker thread like we discussed. But when you're reattaching the fascia over the muscle, a thinner thread can help. And last but not least, we close the skin with a subcutaneous suture." He tied off the last stitch then just as deftly undid his work. "Your turn." Jimin lined up the muscle fibers carefully then began stitching them together in as neat a row as he could. "Good. Now the thinner thread."
Jimin stitched the protective fascia back over the muscle before closing up the skin. "Sub-q suture…and done."
Dr. Anderson smiled. "Impressive, Jimin. You're a natural."
"Thank you." Jimin said. "This was enlightening."
"But until we get someone we can actually do a myoplasty on, our current patient's transfer paperwork needs processing." Dr. Anderson said.
Jimin nodded. "I'll get right on it…" He trailed off as he looked down at his blood stained scrubs from the patient in question. "After I change into some fresh scrubs."
In the locker room, Jimin paused to collect his thoughts. He'd become a doctor to make his parents proud. They'd worked so hard to get him through medical school. All of that had to be worth something. But not for that patient. He couldn't do a single thing for her even if she had left an impression on him. Jimin stared at the blood soaked into his scrubs before opening his locker.
Jimin left the locker room in his fresh scrubs and white coat and collided with someone. "Sorry, I didn't see…" He trailed off at the feeling of warm firm hands steadying him. He looked up to meet the dark alluring eyes of an alpha.
"Are you a doctor?" The alpha asked, his voice deep and smooth and laced with an urgency that sent a shiver down Jimin's spine. The alpha had such captivating eyes, Jimin felt like he could get lost in them forever. For a moment, everything else faded away. That fierce gaze sept over Jimin's body, lingering on him.
Suddenly remembering the question, Jimin cleared his throat and stood a little straighter. "Yes I am. Do you need assistance?"
Instead of answering, the alpha grabbed Jimin's arm hard. "You need to come with me. Now." His grip was unyielding as he tried to pull Jimin toward the exit.
"Hey, let go of me!" Jimin yanked his arm free and glared at the alpha.
For a heartbeat, the air between them sizzled with tension. Then the alpha stepped closer. "Bold move. But we don't have time for this."
"Then start treating me with respect if you want some assistance." Jimin said.
Despite the intensity, Jimin noticed a flicker of something else in the alpha's eyes. A spark of intrigue. "Fine. My sister's been shot. She needs medical aid. Now."
"Okay, I'll come with you." Jimin agreed. "But I'm doing this because there's a patient in need. Not because of your demands." Without another word, the alpha strode toward the exit. Jimin grabbed his medical bag from a nearby station, his heart pounding as he followed the alpha into the night.
A sleek black car idled at the curb and the alpha opened the passenger door for Jimin. "Get in."
"I'm not getting into a car with a total stranger." Jimin refused. "You can at least give me a name."
"Yoongi." The alpha said. "That's all you need to know."
"I'm Jimin Park." Jimin introduced himself as he climbed into the car. "So where's this sister of yours?"
Yoongi whisked Jimin away to the scene of a bloodbath. Bodies lined the street beside an overpass. Jimin started to rush toward the nearest person lying in a pool of their own blood but Yoongi caught his arm. "Forget about them. They're already gone. My sister still has a chance to make it."
Jimin followed Yoongi and found a female alpha slumped under the overpass bleeding profusely. "H-hey, big bro." She greeted Yoongi weakly. "You made it back. W-who's this?"
Yoongi's face twisted. Beneath that steely exterior, Jimin caught a glimpse of pure agony and helplessness. "The doctor who's gonna save your life, Jooah. Isn't that right, Doctor?"
Jimin nodded. "That's right. First thing's first, we've got to stop your bleeding, okay?" Desperate for something to apply pressure to the wound, Jimin started to shrug out of his white coat but Yoongi stopped him.
"Don't ruin your coat. Use this." Yoongi removed his suit jacket and Jimin couldn't help but notice how his lean muscles contracted beneath his shirt. The fabric clung to his broad shoulders, hinting at the power beneath. But as he handed Jimin the jacket, the omega finally noticed the gun holstered at his hip. Jimin froze, eyes locked on the weapon. For a moment, he couldn't breathe. But Yoongi didn't hesitate. He put the jacket in Jimin's hands and gripped Jimin's chin between his thumb and forefinger to turn his head back toward Jooah. "Focus." His calm tone cut through Jimin's fear, grounding him.
"Right." Jimin swallowed thickly. "I'm on it." Pushing aside his unease, Jimin used Yoongi's jacket to apply pressure to Jooah's wound. The expensive fabric absorbed the blood as Jimin worked to stabilize her. "Yoongi, does that gun have anything to do with how this night ended up?" He nodded towards Jooah's wound, the mess of blood, and the bodies surrounding the three of them.
"Of course." Yoongi said without hesitation. "Without it, we'd both be lying out here."
"That's not what I meant and you know it." Jimin said.
Yoongi glared at him. "I didn't bring you here to judge me. I brought you to save my sister's life."
"I spend my nights fixing what people like you destroy." Jimin retorted. "I've earned the right to judge." Surprise flickered in Yoongi's eyes. Jimin noticed how striking the alpha was when he wasn't scowling but Jooah's groan pulled his attention back to his work. Jooah's eyes fluttered and she slumped into unconsciousness. "Dammit, she's stable enough to move to the hospital. I'm calling an ambulance. It looks like the bullet went clean through. With a few liters of blood and some stitches, she should pull through. It'll be a simple procedure." Jimin reached for his radio.
Yoongi stepped forward, tension radiating from him. "Good. Then you can do it here."
Jimin looked up at him incredulously. "On the street? Do you want your sister to get sepsis? I don't even have any plasma to give her, let alone-"
"You're still not getting it." Yoongi's face turned dark. "I'm not going to stand in some waiting room filling out insurance paperwork. Her life is on the line." The flicker of empathy Jimin had seen with Jooah was gone, replaced by a ruthlessness that had the omega's breath hitching. "Those other bodies over there are because of me. Keep telling me no and you might join them." His hand hovered near the gun at his waist.
Something inside Jimin flared up at the threat. Instead of backing down, Jimin rose to his feet, holding Yoongi's gaze. "Don't you dare threaten me unless you mean it. I live by do no harm but I won't hesitate to defend myself. If you pull that gun on me, I'm going to fight for my life, and we'll just have to see who's left to help your sister." Yoongi's gaze sharpened, a mix of annoyance and intrigue. "I'm going out to the road to call an ambulance. And if you love your sister as much as I think you do, you'll let me." He took a few steps away from Yoongi, taking his radio with him, only for Yoongi to raise his gun and fire. Jimin flinched, expecting a burst of pain, but instead an alpha collapsed beside him, gun clattering from his hand. "What the-where did he come from?!"
Before Jimin could get an answer, there was a cacophony of gunshots. Yoongi grabbed Jimin and pulled him behind a nearby column, sheltering Jimin with the protective warmth of his body. "Jooah and I ran into some trouble earlier. Thought I'd handled it but looks like I missed a few." Bullets whizzed past, embedding into the wall behind them.
"You think?!" Jimin asked.
"No time for sarcasm." Yoongi said. "We can't stay here and we damn sure can't bring this chaos to the hospital. I know a place not far from here. I'll drive, you sew."
"You want me to do surgery in the back of a moving car?" Jimin asked incredulously. "Are you crazy?"
"Got a better idea?" Yoongi asked.
"Maybe not getting shot at in the first place?" Jimin suggested.
"A little late for that." Yoongi said. "Now move." Together they both hauled Jooah up as bullets continued to rain around you.
"Who are these people?" Jimin asked.
"Enemies." Yoongi answered vaguely.
Jimin glared at him. "That's not helpful."
"Explanations later. Survival now." Dodging behind parked cars, they raced toward a blacked-out SUV. When they reached it, Yoongi unlocked the doors.
Jimin helped Jooah into the backseat while Yoongi jumped into the driver's seat. The engine roared to life and Yoongi wasted no time slamming on the gas, tires screeching. There was a sickening crunch as Yoongi drove over what could only be a body. A hail of bullets pelted the vehicle and Jimin ducked down instinctively, shielding Jooah as best he could. With one hand on the wheel and the other firing a gun out the window, Yoongi sped through the streets. "Med kit under the seat." Yoongi informed Jimin.
Jimin reached down and pulled out a well-stocked medical kit. Jimin pulled on some gloves and examined Jooah's wound, doing his best to keep the alpha's body stead as the car roared down the road. He hastily cleaned Jooah's wound and used some surgical clamps to realign the damaged muscle fibers. He did his best to stitch up Jooah as Yoongi swerved into another lane. "Keep this car steady unless you want me jabbing a needle into your sister's liver!"
Yoongi steadied the wheel with one hand while firing a few more shots out the window. "Do you want to hop up here and take the wheel or do we want to keep doing what each of us is good for?"
Shaking his head, Jimin turned his focus back to Jooah, stitching the torn muscle back together as carefully as he could. After closing the skin, Jimin applied gauze to the wound and bandaged it to hold it in place. Jooah's breathing steadied. "I did it. She's gonna make it."
After a tense few minutes, the car slowed down. Jimin looked up to see that they were entering an underground garage. "Where are we?"
"Safe place." Yoongi said vaguely. The car rolled onto a platform that began to ascend vertically, carrying the car up a long elevator shaft.