The world was drenched in saturation, every color piercing his eyes like needles. He could feel the Moonsbane eagerly eating away at his Marks. Moving a single inch brought next to unbearable agony.

But he was moving. He'd bore pain before, he would bear it now. Half dragging, half crawling across the road, ignoring the rain of shattered glass slicing into his skin as he moved towards the limp, burned body a few feet away.

Fear like he'd never experienced coursed through him. His heart still pounded inside his chest at what just took place. At how close Jiyeon had been to blowing her brains out just for his wretched life. Part of him was wanted to run to her, to go to her first, to embrace her, yell at her for being so stupid, to kiss her....

But at the corner of his eyes he could see she was now with her friends, Krystal and Tzuyu. She was safe. She was alive.

Unlike the body that Jimin finally managed to pull up to.

Biting back whimpers of pain, he barely managed to pull himself up into an awkward sitting position and leaned heavily over the body of his father, whom he had just managed to pull out of the car before the two Purists had surprise attacked him.

"Father," Jimin rasped, wrapping his hands tightly around a limp arm and clinging tightly like he once did when he was a scared, little boy.

One look at the injuries and burns across his father's body and Jimin knew that any medical attention would be futile.

A deep ache bloomed in his chest, along with anger, frustration, and yes, even hate. He couldn't leave like this. After all he'd done to him, his father couldn't just leave like this. It wasn't fair, it wasn't fair....

Jimin rested his head against his father's body, a sob escaping him.

Jin's words came back to him. "He's the only parental figure you had growing up. No matter how strict and maybe even cruel he was to you, he was still your father."

So much resentment, so much hurt, so much pain, all caused by this man that Jimin was now grieving over. Crying over. Clinging to.

Suddenly the arm Jimin was clinging to move. Just an inch. But it was enough for Jimin's head to snap up and stare.

Konu's eyes were open slightly, gazing, unfocused, in Jimin's direction. His mouth moved a little and Jimin painstakingly leaned down to be able to hear the barely audible words.

It felt like someone had viciously twisted his heart when Jimin finally understood what his father was saying over and over again.

"I'm sorry."

Jimin huffed. "You... you..." he fought to find the right words before exploding. "I hate you! I hate you for everything you did to me. For everything you did to our family. You never understood the concept of family did you? It was only about your stupid legacy and how to redeem yourself for the mistakes you made. You broke me down, you degraded me... and all you can say is I'm sorry?"

It physically hurt to raise his voice, though his emotions flowed freely, but he had to. He had to let it out. He had to release everything he'd endured for the past eighteen years because of this man. He'd held it in too long. Kept silent too long. And now it was too late. Too damn late to ever make things right between him and his father.

More sobs choked out of him, wracking his body. Pain. So much pain. Across his skin, across his heart, across his mind. All he could think was it was too late. Too late.

"Park Jimin...."

Jimin lifted his head up slowly. It was the first time his father had ever called him by his new name, by his mother's name.

Konu's eyes were more open now, intense. Nowhere near the intensity they once held; that Jimin had once feared. Instead, they were earnest. Konu's chest rose and fell rapidly as he gathered the last bit of strength in his broken body.

"Maybe I was too harsh. I broke you. I took away your childhood." His father choked for air but pressed on determinedly. "But I loved you. I wanted you to be strong. Stronger than me. Stronger than all your hardships so you didn't fail like I failed."

Days of his father bringing the belt across Jimin's back when he wasn't strong enough to follow his father's orders stung across Jimin's mind. Days of just wanting to die, to disappear, seared through his memories. Days of being all alone.

"I loved your mother." A tear ran down Konu's eyes. Jimin had never seen his father cry. Ever. He didn't know that Konu was even capable of crying. "I loved her so much. But I just couldn't do anything right. I ruined everything. Just like I ruined every other Outworlders' lives. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Konu broke off, coughing up blood.

Jimin began to reach for him but Konu shook his head.

By now his voice was a mere whisper lost among the wind and Jimin had to lean down to hear his father's last words. "Live for yourself from now on. Don't live for my stupid legacy. Make your own. And then maybe you'll feel the fulfillment that I never felt until now."

Jimin clasped Konu's hands within his own, tightly. "Don't leave me," he whispered brokenly, just as he had when he watched Yoongi hyung die.

There was still so much he needed to hear. So much he needed to talk about. "Don't leave me alone."

A tiny, ever so tiny smile cracked across his father's face. "You're not alone," he said faintly.

Jimin watched as the crimson Marks of his father flickered out.

Too late. It was too late. Unfair. It was so unfair.

A wail ripped from Jimin as he buried his face into his father's side. Why hadn't he talked with his father when Konu had originally asked? Why couldn't he have grown some balls and spoken up to his father sooner?

Time was cruel. You started thinking you had all the time in the world, and then it's just taken from you. Just like that.

You didn't know when the clock would stop ticking for those around you. You didn't know when the clock would stop ticking for yourself. And yet you lived your life as if the clock would tick on eternally.

Regret. Grief. Pain. So much pain. Unending pain. He was alone. He was alone. He...

Gentle hands skimmed across his back, ruffling his hair. A cool, damp washcloth began cleaning the Moonsbane from his skin, each stroke filled with love and care.

He risked a glance up to where no other than Jiyeon was awkwardly kneeling beside him. Her injured leg had been roughly bandaged for temporary purposes and was extended stiffly to the side.

It probably was causing her a lot of pain, especially kneeling beside him like she was. Yet her face was filled only with empathy and heartbreaking compassion as she began to clean his wounds.

He wasn't alone. He wasn't alone. He wasn't alone.

The new mantra echoed in his mind, replaying over and over like a broken record.

He wasn't alone. Not anymore. Not alone anymore.

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