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ahloveisboo · 7 years

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Long Forgotten Sons | pt 1

Pairing: OT7 Genre: Zombie!AU, mature (includes violence, gore, death, explicit language, future major character death) Word count: 4.6k

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Crouched behind a wall just tall enough to hide his figure, he pensively cocked his gun. His heart beat mercilessly against his ribcage as he scanned the area for intruders and his warm breath fogged the plastic over his eyes, making it difficult to see down the middle. The helmet he had stolen off some dead security guard he found lying beneath a pile of rubble a moment ago. It’s not like the guy would need it anymore, anyway. With no one in sight, he slowly made his way from behind the brick wall, aiming his gun at the empty ruins in front of him. “Come on, you bastards,” he muttered, slowly turning on his heels. “Show me your pretty faces so I can blow them right off.” The sound of a rifle reloading broke the silence and as he spun around to fire in defense, a bullet pierced him through the neck. Collapsing to his knees, the screen went black.

“Fuck!” Jungkook screamed, throwing his controller across the bed in frustration. “I can’t believe I keep fucking this one up.” He’d been stuck on the same level for 3 days now, unable to penetrate the abandoned hospital that kept one of his character’s main targets.

Jungkook’s parents were out of town, giving him the liberty to hide behind his PlayStation all week and only leaving his room to take care of food and personal hygiene. None of his friends had made the effort to call, so neither had he. At this point, he may as well have been dead to the outside world. Jungkook didn’t mind, though. In fact, he liked the solitude, since a little alone time was considered a luxury in his household.

Jungkook had bought the new video game he was playing right before his parents left on vacation. A perfect way to waste time he probably should have been spending on the list of chores pinned to the fridge by said parents. This was their first camping trip without Jungkook, and they had no shame in taking advantage of his abundance of free time.

He’d make sure to get them all done by the time his parents returned. A last minute effort to appear the perfect son.

During the rare moments he wasn’t submerged in his game, Jungkook blared his music through the headphones stuck to his head. They might as well had merged into his skull by now, since he never bothered to take them off Not even during the five hours he forced himself to sleep every night. They were great noise blockers, after all, making it easier for him to get some actual rest.

Jungkook lived in a relatively quiet neighbourhood but lately, the place had been overrun with stray cats. No one had any clue of where they came from or what they were doing here of all places, but the peaceful nights were now filled with shrieking catfights and the clanking of trash cans being pushed over. Jungkook didn’t mind much, though. Secretly, he liked leaving food out for them, even if his parents kept telling him off for it.

A low rumble resonated through the air, prompting Jungkook to rub his stomach. He hadn’t had anything to eat but canned fruits, rice, and snacks since his parents took off. He wasn’t a great cook— or just couldn’t be bothered to try. The memory of his mum’s homemade kimchi and duck stew briefly made his mouth water.

At the lack of better options, Jungkook took the last mac and cheese out of the freezer. As he turned on the stove, something in his peripheral caught his eye. Thick, black smoke was circling from the neighbouring house. His eyes widened as it dawned on him, panic rising up in his throat and grabbing a hold of him. Before he could talk himself out of it, his feet had moved into the garden. Only a few seconds later, Jungkook skid to a stop, staring at the back door blankly. His mind was racing, scattered by a mess of thoughts. Should he jump the fence and go in? Should he yell to warn them? Should he scream for help? Why wasn’t anyone doing anything? Where they even home right now? Jungkook faintly remembered they had a dog, but it appeared to be making no sound to indicate it was there.

Clumsily, Jungkook grabbed the phone from his pocket. The device nearly slipped through his fingers as he dialed the emergency number with trembling hands. The dial tone on the other end seemed to last forever, soon enough he realised no one was going to answer. Slightly panicked, he ran back into the house; straight through the kitchen, the hallway, and out the front door until he found himself on the front lawn, eyes wandering the streets.

Empty, he realised. Full of dread, he punched in his parents’ number. He spun on his heels, movements frantic as he mumbled into the phone, “Come on, pick up. Pick up, pick up, pick up”, trying to find any signs of life around him. Instead, all he saw were cars with smashed out windows, beat down letterboxes, broken homes staring at him with empty eye sockets. The dial tone cut out, leaving Jungkook with nothing but the sound of his racing heart beating in his ears. He swallowed and tried to steady his hands, still trembling as he spotted a walking figure in the distance. They walked funny, like they were suffering from a limp that was on the brink of healing. Scuffling, their eyes were trained on nothing in particular in front of them as if their senses were dulled and their mind a blank. As if they were running from something they were unsure whether to be afraid of.

As the figure approached, Jungkook was relieved to find it was his old math teacher, Mr. Kwon. His heart flipped at the sight of someone familiar, and as soon as he caught his breath, his feet moved of their own volition. Mr. Kwon’s eyes were wide and distraught, staring at Jungkook without the faintest sign of recognition. “Mr. Kw-”, Jungkook started, his voice rough from exertion. As soon as he spoke, the man snapped from his trancelike state, roughly grabbing Jungkook by the arm in a reflex motion. His fingers dug deep and hard, causing Jungkook to wince in pain. “Shit, Mr. Kwon, ah- stop! You’re hurti-”

“It’s not safe,” Mr. Kwon whispered, eyes darting wildly, unable to look Jungkook in the eye. He threw a frightened look over his shoulder, pulling Jungkook closer as he hissed, “It's not safe here. I have to run. I have to-, run if you want to live, boy.”

His words were so muffled by his heavy breathing that Jungkook barely understood him. He leaned in closer, trying to catch what he was saying as he noticed his teacher’s bloodshot eyes and cracked lips. He recoiled a little, suddenly wanting nothing more than to distance himself from the man. “Mr. Kwon, what happened to you? What's going on? I don't understand. Please, let go of m-" his voice cracked as he pleaded, trying to pry his arm from Mr. Kwon's iron grip. "Where is everyone? What the fuck is happening? Let me g-go!”

The man didn’t seem to hear. He stared right past him, as he kept repeating the words. Over and over. “Not safe. Run.”

He finally released Jungkook from his hold, roughly pushing him aside to continue his mindless wander through the deserted neighbourhood. Jungkook stared after him, at a loss for words. Nothing made sense. He forced himself to breathe, recollecting his thoughts and considering his options. The simple option was to go back inside, lock the doors, and wait for his parents to return. If they'll ever return, he thought to himself as he scanned the empty streets again. Whatever this was, it must be bad enough for people to leave their homes. But Jungkook didn't consider himself a coward who sits around and waits for someone else to rescue him.

The other option was to take Mr. Kwon's advice and run. But where to? Anywhere but here is an upgrade, he decided, and he ran back to the house, not even bothering to close the front door.

Pulling his duffel bag from under his bed, Jungkook stuffed it with anything within reach. T-shirts, iPod, books, underwear, food, his PlayStation controller,- until the bag felt full and heavy on his shoulder. All his worldly possessions in tow, he dropped the bag on the sofa, turning away to get more things he figured he'd need. It bumped the TV remote, turning on his television and sending the news channel flashing brightly across the screen. Headlines filled the bottom and the anchor lady looked more terrified than he had ever seen anyone read the prompter.

He turned up the volume as the chaste images caught his eye. Clips of people running, screaming, a building with its side stripped bare. Rubble, amidst chaos and dust.

“-six days since the explosion took place. Hudson Corp. is doing everything they can to minimize the damage, but it seems the infection has started to spread rapidly. How the virus is carrying itself further than the highly secured walls of the medical facility and quarantined zone, is still a mystery. The virus was created to find a cure for Alzheimer’s, trying to reverse the deterioration of the brain. Anyone living in the Seoul area is urged to contact the authorities to update them on their location, in order to map the remaining civilians who have yet to be evacuated.”

“Six days? A virus?” Jungkook’s head was spinning. He found himself gaping at his television, telling himself it couldn’t have been six days. Six days of madness and I was too busy trying to get past level 3 of that goddamn game? He blinked, taking in the images, processing the information he just received. Everyone in his neighbourhood had been evacuated, or so the map they showed at the end of the broadcast told him. Jungkook was stunned. They left me.

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t hear the shuffling behind him. A hand reached out and touched his shoulder, a rotting stench penetrating his nostrils. Jungkook whirled, hair on end at the rattling sound behind him. His eyes widened as he froze in terror, staring at the thing in front of him. It had an uncanny resemblance to his elderly neighbour, Mrs. Bae. Pale skin, empty eyes, her clothes torn and breath ragged. She had a chunk of flesh torn from her shoulder, dried blood spilled over the front of her baby blue flower patterned blouse and coating one side of her face.

“Mrs. Bae?” Jungkook’s voice shook. “What are yo-”

With that, the woman leaped forward, throwing her full weight at Jungkook and causing him to stumble and fall. His head hit the side of the sofa, leaving him dazed for a short moment. His reflexes kept the woman at bay, arms pushing her off by her chest and neck.

Jungkook began to panic. Using his free hand to find anything within reach, he only found his heavy duffel bag, dragging it down beside him. He cursed out loud as she snapped her teeth at him and scratched at his face, reaching for the first thing he could get his hands on. His fingers closed around the PlayStation controller and with a deep breath, he swung it towards Mrs. Bae’s face. He hit her right on the temple, causing her to yelp; an inhumane sound that went straight through his bones, leaving him choking for air. She fell to the side, still heaving as she clutched his left arm. Jungkook raised the controller again, putting all his weight behind it. This time he struck her full in the face. It produced a sickening crunch that made his stomach churn, but he didn’t stop.

Jungkook slammed the controller down again. And again. And again. And again. Until she stopped moving.

A long moment passed before Jungkook sat up and realized what he’d done. His stomach dropped, and he scurried away from the heap of bones and skin. His back bumped into the wall, as he allowed himself to lean against the cold, granite liquor cabinet. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from what used to be the sweetest woman in the world, and he was left wondering if it – because it was hardly human anymore - was going to move again. He pressed his back into the dark gray walls, wishing they would just swallow him whole on the spot. His chest started to rise and fall with increasing speed as panic washed over him in merciless waves, tightening his throat, making him suffocate.

He didn’t move for what felt like hours. With steady breaths, he raised his hands. They were covered in dark crimson, crusty where the blood had already dried up. His gaze fell once more to the person who had been Mrs. Bae and the puddle of blood darkening the dirty white carpet beneath her. His throat felt dry. His legs were shaking, but he had to get up. Had to leave this place. Right now.

Without a second thought, he hauled himself to his feet. He grabbed his duffel bag off the floor and swung it over his shoulder, not caring about the weight and how the books prodded into his shoulder blades. Jungkook knew the food he had just packed was all there was. He also knew it would last him maybe three days. Four if he rationed it well. Breaking into a jog, he left his childhood home.

And didn’t look back.

The news mentioned his entire neighbourhood evacuating. If he was lucky, they left most of their food in a hurry. Slowing down, Jungkook surveyed his surroundings. Partly scouting for potential danger, partly to assess the situation he found himself in.

Like a reflex, his feet dragged him towards the house across the street. Jungkook eyed it up, most of its wooden skeleton still intact. He had spent innumerable days in this house as a child. He couldn’t help but wonder if the inside was still as he remembered it. Whereas the Jeons had always been on the modern side of decorating, the family across the street had a more traditional style. Cosy, warm coloured walls, wooden furniture. He’d always loved how it felt like a home.

The familiar smell of the Kim house engulfed him as soon as he opened the door. A sudden desire to just stay here and not care made Jungkook stop and flutter his eyes shit. He allowed himself a moment of savouring the safe feeling before opening them again. Surprisingly, the place still looked exactly the same as he remembered. The walls had been painted over, a once warm red brown now covered by an olive green. Jungkook felt himself nod in approval.

The kitchen was left untouched. Dishes scattered everywhere, appliances still plugged in, and, lucky for him, fridge still running. It didn’t look like they left in a hurry but still, there was that lingering sense of panic. Chaos.

Jungkook opened the fridge to find it half full. Relatively fresh fruits and vegetables, milk, and leftovers from the last meal they had shared. Cabinets were loaded with rice, instant ramen, spices he’d never heard of, and canned beans. He scrunched his nose at the thought of having to eat beans for the rest of his life, but it was better than dust. Silently thanking gods he didn’t believe in, Jungkook yanked his duffel bag from his shoulder.

Puffing his hair from his face, Jungkook peered at the bag from below his eyelashes. As he was rummaging through its content, he heard a shuffling noise from the hall to his left. A faint voice carried towards the kitchen. Jungkook couldn’t quite make out any words, but it made the initial panic from hearing the noise subside. The rattling sound of Mrs. Bae’s breath was still fresh in his mind, and Jungkook knew the voice he heard had to be human. “M-mum?” the voice called, sounding nervous. “Dad? Is that you?”

The voice grew louder, laced with desperation and fear. Jungkook stood upright, stretching his legs, and letting his eyes search the living room. Curiosity took over, and he padded back into the next room, footsteps soft and deliberate.

“D-dad, please. Anybody. Please.”

The voice was pleading, weakly pounding on a door that Jungkook recognized as the one leading to the basement. He froze mid-step. He'd recognize that low, velvet voice anywhere. Jungkook used to play with its owner every day for nearly 13 years. They used to be inseparable.

With three large strides, he was in front of the door. One hand on its frame and the other hand on the knob, twisting firmly only to find it locked tight. “Tae?” Jungkook called. “Taehyung, is that you?”

His hand was flat to the door’s surface, as though trying to reach beyond. Silence fell on the other side. “K-kookie?” The word came out strangled as if his old friend was holding back a sob of relief. “Jungkook, please tell me that’s really you.”

“It’s me, Tae. It’s me. Listen, I’m going to get you out of there.” Jungkook tried to make his voice sound reassuring since Taehyung sounded like he was on the verge of a panic attack. He used to get them all the time when he was a kid. He’d learned to control them better as they got older, but Jungkook never forgot the fear he’d felt when he first saw his friend go through one and he had learned to spot the signs ever since.

Jungkook yanked the doorknob, each pull more aggressive than the last. “Tae- Fucking hell, why is this door locked?!” He heard the boy on the other side counting his breaths, trying to pull himself together enough to tell him what to do.

“My parents, they- they thought it would be safer for me in here.” His breathing was loud, shallow in the confined space. “The key is on the key holder in the living room. The thing that looks like a bird’s nest. It should be long and thin. Silver.”

It didn’t take Jungkook long to find it, crossing hurriedly back to the door separating him from Taehyung. The door swung open with a bang. A tall, brown-haired boy with chocolate-coloured eyes came into view. His otherwise caramel skin was drained of all colour, his hair stuck to his face in sweaty patches.

“Tae.” The word had left Jungkook’s mouth before he realized, and he pulled the boy from the staircase with a shaking arm. Taehyung looked weak- vulnerable.

Taehyung grinned at the younger boy. “It’s ok. I’m alright.”

“You don’t look alright. How long have you been in there? What the hell happened?” Jungkook sat Taehyung down on the coffee coloured sofa, running to the kitchen as soon as the older boy opened his mouth.

“A day or two, three? My parents went to get food, and they thought it’d be safer for me locked inside the basement. Just in case those things got inside and they weren’t here to protect me,” he scoffed. “They left but never returned. There’s barely any food down there. They really thought it was safe for- ah, thanks.” Gratefully, Taehyung accepted the banana and can of coke Jungkook pushed into his hands.

“Don’t eat too fast. You’ll get cramps.”

Taehyung slowed down his chewing. “I feel better already,” he smiled.

Jungkook allowed himself to calm down, sitting down beside Taehyung on the sofa. He ran his hand over his face, letting out an exasperated sigh.

Taehyung peered up at him from the rim of his coke can. “What?” he asked, after gulping down half the can’s content. Jungkook shook his head, letting his eyes wander to the window.

“Quite a mess we’ve gotten ourselves into, isn’t it?”

Taehyung followed his gaze. Jungkook half expected them to widen, but then he realized that Taehyung must have been here to see it happen. While he had been locked inside his own room, Taehyung must have seen it all unfold.

“What happened?” Jungkook whispered, more to himself than at Taehyung.

The latter answered him anyways. “You know that big ass medical testing facility in Yangcheonggu? A couple of days ago, there was a huge explosion. No one knows why or how, but it blew out half the building and released some of the shit they’d been working on. It was supposed to be quarantined, but I guess something went wrong because suddenly people in the area started losing their minds. Literally. They got ill. Nausea, high fever. They forgot who they were, how to talk, started attacking other people for no reason.”

Jungkook tore his gaze from the window.

“It spread pretty fast. The government began evacuation protocol immediately. They got out most of the neighbours but for some reason, my parents didn’t want to leave all this-” he said, gesturing towards the house. “behind. So we stayed. We watched everyone else get infected. No idea how or why. It was mayhem,” Taehyung trailed off, remembering. “Maybe my parents got scared and took off. Left me behind. I didn’t have my phone down there so I haven’t been able to contact them.” He leaned back against the hard sofa, absentmindedly playing with the banana peels.

“You know all those zombie movies we used to sneak into my room and watch when my parents were out?” Taehyung waited for Jungkook to nod before continuing. “Well. I think we might just be in the middle of one now.”

As he took another swig from his coke, Jungkook couldn’t help but notice his sudden calmness. Colour had returned to his cheeks, and his eyes had regained some sparkle. “You don’t sound worried,” he noted.

Taehyung avoided his eyes as he got up from the sofa. “I’ve been locked in a basement for god knows how many days. My parents are out there and I have no clue if they’re even alive. Or… worse.” Taehyung blinked, tears stinging the back of his eyes.

When he met his friend’s gaze, Jungkook was surprised to find hardness within. “To tell you the truth, I was ready to die in there until you came along. Because frankly, is it even still worth it?”

Jungkook was taken aback by this. Though this whole situation was new to him, the thought had never crossed his mind. “What do you mean? Is it worth what?”

“Being alive.”

Suddenly the air felt too thick for Jungkook to breathe. He got up as Taehyung continued talking. “For all we know, we’re the only ones left in the Seoul area.”

“We can’t think like that,” Jungkook countered, shaking his head. “I can’t think like that, Tae! My parents are out there somewhere. I need to believe they are okay.”

“Even if they are,” Taehyung said, gaze hard, “They’re not coming back. They won’t allow it. This is a quarantined zone now.”

Jungkook knew he was right, and fuck– had this room always been so small? Trying to keep himself from pacing, Jungkook stalked back towards the kitchen. He wanted to punch something, and he wanted to make sure that something wasn’t Taehyung’s face.

His hand found a stray plate next to the sink and before Jungkook could stop himself, he’d swung it at the wall. The plain piece of china shattered into pieces, shards bouncing off the kitchen tiles. He almost started screaming.

And then he was.

The sound filled the empty house. Angry. Desperate.

A hand closed around his wrist when he grabbed for another plate. “Kookie.” It was barely a whisper. Jungkook allowed himself to lock eyes with the brown-haired boy, not saying anything. His chest felt tight, and by the look Taehyung was giving him, he knew he felt the same.

“What do we do?”

Taehyung let go of his wrist. Taking a step back, he leaned against the countertop. “I honestly don’t know,” he sighed. “We could go look for help. But we may run into some unwanted wanderers.” Taehyung folded his arms over his chest. “Or we could stay here. Wait for someone with a car to get us out of here.”

“Why do I feel like you’ve already dismissed option one?”

Taehyung grimaced. “Do I look like I can fight off those things? The only weapon I ever learned to handle is my bow and arrow.”

“You picked up archery?” Jungkook asked, almost smiling. “God, you are such a nerd.”

The tightness in his chest eased a little, as he suddenly remembered why Tae and he became friends in the first place. Just because their parents ran in the same circle, didn’t mean the kids would get along. Jungkook and Taehyung certainly didn’t at first.

Taehyung was two years older than Jungkook, a lot more outgoing and engaging than Jungkook was. Jungkook was the shy kid, always on his own. Even as a child he enjoyed the silence and comfort of solitude, letting his mind wander to places only he could go. Taehyung wasn’t like that. He loved to intrude, trying to tempt Jungkook to play with him and enter his world.

As annoying as Jungkook found the older boy to be, he soon appreciated the fact that Taehyung truly wanted to be in his company. He started letting him in. They ran to magical lands, mystical forests, and blood-soaked battlefields together. Played pretend sword fights while they rescued damsels in distress. As they grew older those forests turned into not so imaginary parking lots with football matches, bedrooms where they listened to the latest album Jungkook’s dad got him. Trying out the new video game Taehyung had shoplifted. They bonded over comics and crushes and rival sports teams.

Until one day they got into a fight. Jungkook couldn’t even remember what it was about, but it had been bad. They didn’t talk for an entire week. When they did, it was just screaming until there was nothing left to scream about. And that was it. End of a friendship. The two of them changed schools and all Jungkook knew about Taehyung now was whatever his parents told him after they went across the street for their monthly dinners.

Taehyung had graduated at some point and was now majoring in Liberal Arts Studies, whereas Jungkook was about to start uni. He was thinking an IT-based education would suit him well.

“Nothing wrong with archery, you asshole,” Taehyung countered. “Anyways. Since you asked, I do believe staying put is the best option until something better comes along. Unless you have one in mind?”

Jungkook shook his head. “Unfortunately, no.”

“So that’s settled then. We stay.” Taehyung pushed himself off the countertop.

Jungkook watched his retreating form enter the living room. “Do you really think someone will come looking for us?”

Taehyung halted at his words, not bothering to turn and face his old friend. “No. But I can hope.”

At that, a thought flashed across Jungkook’s mind. “Hey Tae, do you guys still have those obnoxious Christmas lights lying around?”

The Kims were known for their abundant and dramatic Christmas decorating during the holidays. Reindeers on the front lawn and flashing lights included. This grabbed Taehyung’s attention. He whirled, staring at the black haired boy in bemusement. “We do. They’re in the attic. Why?”

“Show me,” Jungkook said without further explanation. He gestured for Taehyung to lead him onwards.

When Jungkook saw the treasure trove of lights, he grinned. “These are perfect, Tae. Grab any leftover blankets you can find, preferably white, so they catch people’s attention. We’re going to decorate the roof.” Still grinning, Jungkook held several cords of coloured lights in the palm of his hand. As soon as Taehyung realised what the younger meant, he grinned back, rushing down to search his parents’ bedroom.

Climbing through Taehyung’s bedroom window, they managed to get to the roof with little problem. From up here, the devastation and ruins were painfully visible. They took a moment to take in the view, neither saying a word.

Then they got to work. Without completely covering the black tiled roof, they pinned the lights strategically on bits and pieces of sheets. Creating just enough contrast to draw attention from passing air crafts in the vicinity. Jungkook made sure the coloured lights spelled out HELP in letters as big as the cords would let him. After not so elegantly crawling back into the house, he plugged them all in and stuck his head out of the window. “Status?” he yelled, leaning on the window sill.

Taehyung’s head popped into sight, smirking. “Never thought I’d be this happy at the sight of my parents’ Christmas light atrocities.”

After Jungkook had crawled back on the roof to join him, they sat there a little while longer than needed. Taehyung leaned back on his elbows, staring over at Jungkook beside him. The faint green and red glow of Christmas lights illuminated his features. “Do you think the walkers will notice the lights, too?” Taehyung asked.

“Oh, they’re called walkers now?” Jungkook snorted in reply. The sun was already starting to set, marking the end of a very long day.

“Why not?” Taehyung shrugged. “That’s what they’re called on that popular TV show.” Tearing his gaze away, he started into the sunset. “What else do we call them? Zombies?”

His voice was softer now, as though afraid to face the horrible reality. Jungkook looked away as well, laying down beside Taehyung. He listened to the steady breathing of his friend slow down, calming him. Suddenly he felt sleepy.

“Let’s hope they don’t notice.”

A/N: I’ve been wanting to post this for the longest time and I’m glad it’s finally out there. Sorry about it only being two of the boys but the others will follow soon! I would really, really appreciate some feedback on this as this will be my first series and the first time writing something that doesn’t include fluff. Thank you to @transaflanticism for spending hours brainstorming with me on the theme and storyline, and @the-princejinyoung for being my editor in chief. I love you both lots.

#long forgotten sons #noonanet #bts fanfiction #zombie au bts #bangtan #bts au #bangtan au #bts series

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