ONE

*•-•*

A family of two sat at a small round dining table. Only a lamp in the corner of the room lit the space, giving the room a warm glow. A small toddler was sat next to his father in his booster seat, still too small to reach the table without it. He poked at his steamed broccoli, finding distaste at the green trees, steam rolling off of them.

"Jeongguk, eat your broccoli," his father chided as he ate his own dinner. Jeongguk glared at the steamed vegetables, only making his father softly smile at the sight, showing off his dimples.

"B-but they're yucky!" Jeongguk complained, pushing his plastic plate away. This was a daily occurrence, his father always trying to make Jeongguk eat his greens, always ending up in the other's objection.

"Don't you want to grow big and strong?" His father asked, already starting to use his newly found parenting skills to convince the toddler. Jeongguk shook his head, his brown hair swishing across his forehead.

"Never! Because then y-you won't be able to c-carry me!" Jeongguk explained. Namjoon stifled a laugh before poking Jeongguk's tummy.

"But Jeongguk, I eat my veggies! That's why I'm able to carry you." Namjoon reasoned, hoping to convince Jeongguk with his made-up logic. "Just eat three more of them?" Namjoon asked, holding up the numbers on his fingers. "I'll read you a bedtime story." He tried to persuade, knowing Jeongguk was a sucker for bedtime stories. Jeongguk considered Namjoon's request before huffing as he picked up his fork. Namjoon sighed in relief, picking up his own fork again.

The two began to finish their dinner of broccoli and schnitzel. Jeongguk blowing his tongue in disgust at the taste of the broccoli, and he still had two more pieces left to eat. The faint sound of rain pounding against the roof rang throughout the house, every once in awhile the house shaking from the clap of thunder and lightning striking through the air.

The doorbell ringing filled the comfortable air. Namjoon looked up from his plate in confusion. Namjoon then remembered the one single lady who was desperate for a family that lived across the street who had taken a liking in Namjoon, especially once she found out he had a son.

Namjoon ultimately decided to ignore the doorbell, hoping the lady would leave him alone.

The two continued to eat their dinner before the doorbell began to ring rapidly, Namjoon eyed the front door in confusion, growing concerned. "D-daddy, I think someone's at the door," Jeongguk mumbled. Namjoon looked at the time of the clock on the wall, he found it quite odd that the lady was at their door so late in the evening

Namjoon slowly placed his fork back down and pushed back his chair, sighing as he prepared himself to tell off the lady who was ringing his doorbell so late in the evening. "Stay in here Jeongguk," Namjoon instructed. Jeongguk didn't know what was going on but decided to listen to his father's words.

Jeongguk watched as his dad left the room before he slid out of his chair, slightly shivering as his small feet touched the cold wooden floor. Jeongguk crept to the door of the dining room, it was only open wide enough to peek through.

Namjoon hurried to the door, noticing how the person on the other side began to frantically knock on the front door. He swung the door wide open already prepared to slam it closed again, he had a feeling it was the lonely lady from across the street.

"I already told you, Marcie, leave me-," Namjoon froze when he realized that it wasn't Marcie, it was a man, drenched from the rain. Maybe the man had gotten lost, was the only thing Namjoon could conclude. Namjoon did live out in the country, away from the hustle and bustle of the city. But what took Namjoon a couple of seconds to process, his brain most certainly malfunctioning, was the fact that the man was also covered in blood, soaked in it.

And the other thing was the small child in the man's arm, Namjoon couldn't get a good look at the child but he could tell by the child's blood-drenched clothes that they were also badly injured.

"P-please help him," The man pleaded. Namjoon's eyes widened, the man didn't even have to ask twice.

"Come inside," Namjoon urged, opening the door even wider, "Follow me." Namjoon knew how to stay calm, he deals with these situations daily, since he is a doctor. But it's not every day a man shows up on your front door doused in blood and a possibly dying child in his arms, Namjoon also reminded himself. What the fuck is happening?

"Lay him on the couch," Namjoon ordered, hoping the man would find his way to the living room as he rushed to the bathroom, searching in the bottom cabinet for the first aid kit, Namjoon finding it quickly before racing out of the bathroom and passing the dining room.

"Dad?" Jeongguk spoke, poking his head out of the small gap of the dining-room door. Namjoon stopped in his tracks before glancing behind him, realizing that his son must be very confused at the moment. Namjoon retraced his steps and he squatted in front of Jeongguk.

"Go up to your room Bun, I'll be up there soon okay?" Namjoon whispered quickly.

"Are you going to help him?" Jeongguk asked quietly, tilting his head. Namjoon nodded and kissed Jeongguk's forehead.

"I'll do my very best," Namjoon responded. Jeongguk smiled, his teeth poking out that made him somewhat resemble a bunny. Jeongukk rushed upstairs and to his bedroom.

*•-•*

The man had laid the child onto the couch, immediately holding his hands onto the biggest wounds. The child was losing so much blood, his skin pale white. "Come on Tae," The guard whispered, his tone laced with urgency. "Stay with me." The boy was drifting in and out of consciousness, his eyes hazy as whimpers escaped his mouth, his body hurting all over.

Soon Namjoon was back with the first aid kit, quickly dropping to his knees. Namjoon examined the child, dried blood clumped to the boy's blonde hair, the toddler probably wasn't even a year older than Jeongguk.

The child had two major wounds, one on his stomach that must have been caused by some heavy object and an even larger one on the back of his head due to some circumstance, that Namjoon hopes the man will be able to explain, perhaps hitting his head too hard. Namjoon couldn't help but notice the burns scattered across the boy's small arms and legs, the skin already blistering that was decorated between the small cuts and bruises, some still bleeding. Namjoon opened the first aid kit and grabbed a small towel, passing it to the man.

"Press this firmly on his stomach to stop the bleeding," Namjoon instructed, the man nodding and doing as told. He pressed the towel firmly on the child's stomach, the boy crying in pain at the pressure. Namjoon winced at the cries, he instead focused on the other tasks at hand.

Namjoon examined the major gash on the back of the boy's head, assessing the wound. "This may sting a little," Namjoon whispered as a green mist formed at his fingertips out of thin air, holding all sorts of capabilities. Namjoon gently held his hand on the wound. The boy released a loud scream in pain, tears rolling down his blotchy cheeks as he thrashed to get away from the weird sensation on his head that only evoked pain. Namjoon's teeth were gritted, as his magic cleansed the wound before slowly sealing away as if nothing was ever there.

Namjoon was immediately rushed with a sense of exhaustion, it was nothing new to Namjoon as he ignored the feeling while he grabbed a needle and thread from the first aid kit.

Soon the other wound was stitched up, wrapped, and cleansed. Namjoon could only heal so much with his ability, especially on large wounds. And soon Namjoon and the man were both letting out a sigh of relief. The boy was now laying the guest bedroom, asleep. The two adults were seated at the kitchen counter, both exhausted.

"He's the prince isn't he?" Namjoon asked suddenly, breaking the thick silence. The other man's eyes shot wide at Namjoon's words.

"How'd you know?" The man asked slowly, almost as if he was cautious of Namjoon knowing.

Namjoon laughed softly, "Well the prince is easily recognizable, and you're wearing a palace uniform."

The man didn't reply as he looked back at his hands, the blood washed away. After they had Prince Taehyung in the guest bedroom, Namjoon had convinced the man to let him check for any major wounds before letting him take a shower.

"Luckily, no organs were damaged" Namjoon decided to change the subject. "Although he most definitely has a concussion, a worst-case scenario is that he suffers from memory loss which is probable."

The man then looked at Namjoon, his tone serious. "It's for the best," He spoke, Namjoon's eyebrows lifted in confusion. Why would having the boy suffer from memory loss be the best?

"What do you mean?" Namjoon asked, slightly concerned.

"The royal family was killed, well almost all of them," The man explained, tilting his head towards the staircase. Namjoon's eyes widened at the sudden information but he didn't get a chance to respond. "I'm not sure if I can say it was an accident though." Namjoon already understood what the man was trying to say.

The two both came to a mutual agreement: Prince Taehyung was in possible danger.

The room was once again silent, neither really knowing what to say. "Namjoon," The man looked at Namjoon, "That's my name," The man smiled softly.

"Seokjin," The man replied. "Thank you for helping me, I'm not sure what'd I do with myself if he died, now I'm not even sure if he's safe in the castle."

"Stay with us," Namjoon suggested. Seokjin's eyes widened in surprise.

"W-what?" Seokjin stammered, looking at Namjoon like he was crazy. Maybe Namjoon was crazy, perhaps reckless, but he had a feeling that he was doing the right thing.

"The prince isn't safe in the castle and we don't know when he will wake up, if someone or something is trying to kill him then he'll be safe here, hidden." Namjoon reasoned. Seokjin thought about Namjoon's words, weighing the pros and cons, millions of things running a thousand-miles a minute.

"Are you sure?" Seokjin whispered. Namjoon nodded, not a single doubt in his mind.

"We could raise him here, homeschool him since he probably shouldn't be recognized," Namjoon explained. Namjoon held his hand out towards Seokjin. "Deal?" He asked. A couple of minutes passed, and finally, Seokjin shook Namjoon's hand in return. Namjoon smiled. "Once Taehyung recovers, my son Jeongguk and he can share a room, and you can have the guest bedroom," Namjoon explained. Seokjin nodded, preparing himself to adjust to a new life.

*•-•*

Namjoon slowly opened the door to Jeongguk's room. The small boy was sound asleep, light snores escaped his mouth as he tightly held his stuffed bunny. Namjoon sat beside the young boy, glad he was getting a good night's rest. He was about to kiss him goodnight before he was interrupted by the boy.

"Did you s-save him?" Jeongguk whispered, Namjoon chuckled and nodded. Jeongguk sighed in relief, shifting to look at his ceiling that was covered in glow-in-the-dark stars. "He kind of looks like the Prince!" Jeongguk exclaimed.

"That's because he is, Bun," Namjoon replied, "Taehyung and Seokjin are going to be living with us. It's not safe for him to go back home," Namjoon explained. Jeongguk's doe eyes widened.

"So it's my job to p-protect him?" Jeongguk asked. Namjoon nodded in response.

"Yes Bun, we must protect him from all the bad guys."

"Like Mojo Jojo?"

"Yes like Mojo Jojo."

Jeongguk smiled in happiness, turning away from Namjoon, about to fall back asleep. "W-we're going to be the b-best of friends," Jeongguk yawned, his eyes soon fluttering shut. Namjoon hummed in agreement, thinking about the unconscious boy in the guest bedroom with Seokjin keeping watch over him.

"Goodnight, Bun," Namjoon whispered, as he slowly walked out of the bedroom, shutting the door behind him.