The kids of the motel gang have always had a perchance for bullying. It’s never been much, just a little harassment and badmouthing here and there, a harder shove or two if they’re particularly restless that day. Usually if Jungkook ignores them for long enough they’ll grow bored and leave of their own accord.

Bad habits like these are not uncommon in this town of theirs.

Everyone reacts differently to the knowledge that they will someday Fade. Some accept it as easily as slipping on a shirt and pants in the morning. They wear the knowledge comfortably on their sleeves and go about their days like each one may not be their last.

Others do not deal with it quite so well. They adopt habits such as drinking or smoking, pick up abrasive natures like Yoongi and Kwangsu have, or for the few in between, they develop a thirsting need to lash out at others in order to compensate for their own eventual loss.

The later are the worst in Jungkook’s opinion.

He gets that Fading is equivocal to death and death is something that no one welcomes, but all the same, is there really a need to hurt another just to prove to themselves that they’re still alive, still here.

At least with adults they have a sense of restraint, years of living and breathing and loving which accumulates to just enough to dull the fear and its repercussions.

But with these teenagers, boys on the cusp of manhood, the fine balance drives them crazy. They are old enough to taste the real fear of vanishing into the void, young enough that they then lack the restraint of age. It’s a vicious cycle because in turn that fear drives them to the brink of Fading even faster, and in turn watching those around you Fade only fuels your own Fade faster, only revs up the engines of cruelty even higher.

Like minded souls gather as they do and the motel gang has seen boys come and go. Jungkook is not their first target and he won’t be their last. He’s their current one because he shares a part time job with the current pseudo-leader of the group and because he makes it easy for them. 

Jungkook never fights back and he never tells. He does both of these things for Yoongi.

Yoongi is someone who the townspeople view in a negative light. They frown deeply upon him taking care of Jungkook and Jungkook has had more than one offer of a house and home if it means taking him away from the bad influence. He’s politely declined them all and tried to explain but he’s found that no one wants to hear the truth, not when it’s not half as interesting as the stories make him seem.

Therefore the best he can do for Yoongi’s reputation is keep quiet and let the name calling and fists glide past. His pride suffers but it’s a small price to pay when he sees Yoongi appear out of the gloom, his blonde hair the only bright spark in the night and the rare smile he only ever gives to Jungkook even brighter.

Yoongi is the only one that Jungkook has ever fully trusted, body and soul, and for him he’ll do anything. And that’s why he repeatedly gets into these situations: his back pressed up against the unforgiving cold of the shutter door, his face throbbing where the metal bites into it and the ache in his stomach spreading. It’s the opposite of the Fade which numbs everything; here Jungkook can feel everything, his nerves on fire, prickling and provoking all his senses.

He slides to the floor and watches them approach through the filter of his eyelashes, imposing black bodies that point and mock and croon words that Jungkook tries to tune out.

He knows their routine like muscle memory. They’ve done the pushing and the prodding, done the collective smirks to one another as if they need to cement the fact that they are doing this as a group, too coward to do it alone. Once they’ve de-stressed they’ll follow through with the taunts and the last few punches and then they’ll leave when the boredom grows to be too much.  

Right on cue one of them crouches, his hand coming up to grip about Jungkook’s chin tightly. He lifts Jungkook’s head and eyes him with dark, dark eyes. “What?” he coos mockingly. “Done already?”

He tilts Jungkook’s head back and forth, admiring his handiwork there. Jungkook hates it when they go for his face. It makes the bruises harder to hide and the excuses he’s been telling Yoongi about the physical aspect of his part time job will run dry soon. They never used to be so physical but last Jungkook heard one of the boy’s sister had Faded and their group has taken a more violent stance since.

“Enough,” Jungkook spits. He can taste blood somewhere at the back of his throat and it makes him want to gag. “Are we done here?”

It’s the wrong move. He should be more passive if he wants them to walk away, more deferential to their violence. But this has been dragging on for so long, days upon weeks upon months and maybe the townspeople are right and Yoongi is a bad influence because he feels it like an itch in his limbs, a dryness in his mouth that longs to taste for blood, a feral desire twisting in his stomach that aches to let loose the frustration.

The boy lets go of him but Jungkook can feel the imprint of his fingers throb where he had held Jungkook too tight. His eyes turn flat and unimpressed; the corners of his mouth tighten. Jungkook makes to stand, ignoring every aching bone in his body that protests vehemently.

“You’re pretty boring aren’t you,” the kid comments as he straightens up, his long legs bending and unfolding like a crane about to take flight. He has dark hair pulled back into a tiny ponytail and a scar just above his right eye. It flashes silver under the street lights and it’s his only redeeming feature.

“I don’t plan to be interesting to the likes of you,” Jungkook says roughly as he pushes past him, their shoulders bumping as he goes.

Really he should know better but there’s always been that tiny spark of rebellion deep in the dark depths of his belly, small but belligerent and it hungers so much to be lit bonfire tall. The two of them are so alike, he and Yoongi, twin flames who burn too easy. And that, he thinks as the boy with the ponytail and the silver scar grabs for his shoulder and pulls him back, is why he took Yoongi’s hand that day. 

His back collides hard with the wall and a fist goes straight to his solar plexus. It knocks the breath out of him and Jungkook doubles over, gasping for air. He knees buckle and he fumbles for the words: stop, okay, I’m sorry, just let me go.

But then there’s a hand about his neck, slamming and pushing him back into the metal wall behind him and the words are extinguished before they can even make it out of his throat.

“Please-“ he tries but there’s not enough air for him to breath, not enough gravity to hold him down. Everything is spinning, whirling. The face in front of him is a smudgy smear, the only feature that stands out is his silver scar, a winking light against the oily night sky. Jungkook claws at the leader’s shirt, his fingers digging weakly into the fabric.

“You’re so boring that maybe we should find someone new,” someone hisses into his ear as the world tips over itself, the sky is the ground and the tasteless pavements are the sky, grey and gloom all one mix. “What was his name again? Min Yoongi?”

The string snaps and suddenly everything is in terrible focus. “Don’t you touch him,” Jungkook snarls, his brow drawn, his teeth bared. There’s no oxygen in his lungs but somehow he draws it from somewhere, just a little bit too much that suddenly everything becomes high definition clear, so clear, too clear that it hurts his eyes. He sees everything: the cruel cut of the boy’s mouth, the shape of the scar, the tight pull of his hair. Maybe it’s their situation or maybe it’s Jungkook’s own slanted perception but he looks like he’s been cut from cruelty, born to this madness of beating up other boys just to feel better.

The boy smirks and dazedly, Jungkook notices the chip on his front tooth. “So it takes this to actually get a decent reaction huh? If I had known, I would have done this earlier.”

“Yoongi-hyung’s done nothing to you. Leave him alone,” Jungkook snaps.

“No he hasn’t,” the guy says thoughtfully. “But I guess things like these never really start with someone doing something to someone else.”

“That doesn’t make what you’re doing is okay,” Jungkook says between breaths.

The boy snorts. “So what? Who’s going to stop us? We’re all going to Fade at some point, we might as do what we want, live as much as we can before it happens.”

Jungkook glares at him. “You call this living?”

The boy grins, a wickedly sharp thing as his foot connects with Jungkook’s stomach, sending him crashing to the floor. “I call it feeling,” he hisses, lips so close to Jungkook’s ear that Jungkook can feel his breath tickle the skin there.

Like a signal given, the others swam in. Their hands are heavy, their words even harder. It all blurs, the pain, the insults, the terrible, terrible things that mankind is capable of. Jungkook just curls up, arms about his head to protect himself and waits it out. 

Time blurs, the only moments of interest being when they start and when they finish. Jungkook lies there in a fetal position, unwilling to move just yet in case one of them decide to come back for one last kick.

“What now?” one of them asks with a cracking yawn, starting up a casual conversation like they just finished cram school instead of beating up another kid.

“Pier side?” someone suggests as he kicks a squashed can. Jungkook can see the crumpled metal ricochet off the door in the gap between his arms.

“We just went there last night. I’m starved. Let’s grab some food,” another says.

The third interrupts and overrides. “How about we pay Min Yoongi a visit.”

There’s a collective pause. Jungkook can hear his heart pounding in his ears.

“What? You were serious about that?” one guy says, sounding surprised.

“Why not?” the first one says, probably shrugging as he does so. “This one’s no fun anymore. And aren’t you guys interested in seeing what the real Min Yoongi is like?”

There’s a murmur of interest.

Everyone in town knows one another, if not by name then by face. That does not however mean they know the person inside.

Yoongi is someone who a lot of people look at but don’t really see. What they think they see is the fabrications of the stories people tell, blown out of proportion with each telling. Only Jungkook knows him in the rawest sense. Yoongi is not the kind of person who beats other people up for no reason, he’s not the kind of person who wishes ill on people who pass him by. Yoongi is just another kid who’s got the Fade pressed up right against him and a little more.

The footsteps fade and Jungkook opens his eyes.

He can see their retreating backs, heading in a direction he’s not all too sure of. They might be making good of the proposal; they might also just be playing with him and heading home.

Jungkook turns over onto his back so that he can reach into his pocket and slide out his phone. It takes two clicks to the home button and one trembling thumb over the deep crack on the screen for him to know that it’s broken.

The sky is dark above him, lit grey by the street lamps. At this time of the night Yoongi might still be in the garage, fixing a few things for his boss who cares only about Yoongi’s quiet but determined work ethic and nothing else.

Jungkook knows the boys are probably just kidding. Bullying and beating him up is one thing; actually targeting Yoongi who is somewhat of a fabled fighter in this town is a whole other story. However Jungkook can’t shake off these feeling, this need to confirm Yoongi is okay.

Standing isn’t easy. He has to fumble at the metal ridges of the pull up garage door for support. His whole body aches, his head most of all, but he can’t just lie here forever.

He sets off staggering, one leg limp behind him. His left cheek throbs in time with each step and his right ribs let out a protesting jolt of pain when he steps off the pavement to cross the empty road.

The fastest way to the garage is through the city center and then eastward towards the train yard. Jungkook tries to pick up his pace but each step sends these little bolts of pain shooting across his body and though he’s pretty sure they haven’t done any lasting damage, tonight was far worse than usual.

He tries to not think of the pain. Instead, he thinks of Yoongi.

They first met when Jungkook was eight and Yoongi twelve. Already then he was an imposing figure, not in terms of height or breadth or anything but in the way he looked at the world with eyes cut of marble, sharp and unforgiving. Most of all thought was the way the smell of smoke clung to his body, as potent and as invisible as the stories that curled about him. 

Jungkook had only been at the child centre for a few days by then but he had heard all the stories by the boys far too eager to share what they knew. Yoongi’s story was one of the first they introduced him to.

As the stories went, they said that Min Yoongi lost his parents not because they faded, but because they died. And there was a fine difference between the two.

It was reported as a fire, a stove that went out of control and burned down the entire house. Min Yoongi aged nine then had been the only survivor.

Though the situation was considered unusual in the town, the following procedures were no different than any other child who had lost their guardians. Min Yoongi was sent to the child center where he stayed for a year and half before he was then kicked out, age eleven.

Why? Well according to the boys, he had been unsociable and unwilling to follow the rules. Not exactly rule breaking, but it led him to get into fights with other overly inquisitive kids who at that age didn’t really know how to filter their thoughts. But it wasn’t the constant fights or way he refused to follow curfew that led him to be kicked out exiled, it was because of the tiny lighter he carried about.

This was where the rumors had gotten out of hand, the story bordering on making Yoongi a monster. They said Yoongi would carry about the lighter in his pocket at all times, pulling it out and lighting it up from when he felt like it. He didn’t care what the others said, didn’t seem to be bothered with how the light of the tiny fire alarmed the other children. They said Min Yoongi killed his parents, that the fire was his fault, that he hated them and wanted to be free of them and now he wanted to be free of the child centre and so he would burn them all in the very house they slept in someday as well. Him lighting up the little Clipper in front of the others? That was a show, a sign, a foreshadowing of what was to come.

In order to dampen the rumors that were swarming about the child centre like flies to a dead carcass, the ones in charge had asked Yoongi to stop carrying the lighter about. He had refused and a fight had broken out. A fight bad enough for them to say that enough was enough and that night they asked to leave and by morning Yoongi was gone.

The thing about the Fade is that it warps the way society has formed in this town. Anywhere else adults are the ones in charge but here, the child centre is run predominantly by the children themselves.

It only makes sense. Children, particularly teenagers, are more liable to the Fade. And no adult wants to build a connection with a child who may then vanish soon after or vice versa. These children after all are predominantly the product of Faded parents.

Therefore the solution the town came up with was to let the children take charge. The adults chip in by providing the supplies and checking up on them once a fortnight. The children do the rest: assigning places for the kids to stay in, dishing out food fairly, and dealing with order within the place.

And as a result, it probably wasn’t all that surprising that their first thought was to kick Yoongi out. In some ways children are the more distilled version of adults. Their thoughts and their ideas are not anchored down by responsibility and the expectation to be an adult and therefore where adults might have tried other ways to control Yoongi, the children chose the more effective path and evicted him.

Yoongi’s departure did as they had intended. The child centre quietened down and one year later when Jungkook was admitted there, all that remained there were the stories and no trouble whatsoever.

Jungkook had soaked up all the stories and thought nothing more about them until five days later he met the man of the legends himself.

He had been playing hide and seek with some of the other kids in the woods nearby and had been a little too good at it. The others had given up on finding him and had gone home but Jungkook, not knowing that, had sat in his hiding spot behind a tree for almost two hours straight thinking in vain that someone would still find him.

In the end someone had did. It just wasn’t the other kids.

“Who are you?” he had asked in a voice that was deep and raspy even as a child.

“Jeon Jungkook,” Jungkook had replied, seeing no need to lie. “Who are you?”

“Min Yoongi.”

Jungkook’s eyes had widened at the name. He had only been at the child centre for a week but it was enough for him to be under the impression that Min Yoongi was twenty feet tall with horns sprouting from either side of his head and could spout fire from his mouth at will.  

“What are you doing out here kid?” Yoongi had then asked, forcing Jungkook to break out his stunned stupor.

“I was playing hide and seek but no one’s found me yet,” Jungkook had said a little somberly. Even at age eight he knew he had probably been left behind.

Yoongi’s expression remained unchanged. “Well you better get going then. There’s no one else here and it’s getting late. The forest is no place for a kid to be at night.”

Jungkook had moved to stand. Almost a little too coincidentally, his stomach growled. Lunch had been a long, long time ago.

Yoongi had sighed. “If I buy you food will you go home?”

Jungkook had perked up. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“Okay. Buy me pizza then.”

“Isn’t pizza too much for you? Plus who sells pizza in this town. No one. Don’t be unreasonable.”

Jungkook had pouted. “But one of the other kids said they’d tried it before and it was amazing!”

Yoongi gave a short sigh. “Don’t believe everything other people say. There’s no pizza in this town, that kid was probably lying. Maybe he saw it in a book. Or maybe he was telling the truth and his mother made it, either way I can’t get you any pizza.” Jungkook’s face had dropped and Yoongi saw it then but back then Yoongi had not been one to tell lies. “But tell you what, there’s a burger place downtown and I’m sure it’s just as good.”

Jungkook had brightened at that. “Really?”

Min Yoongi had not smiled but it was a tiny upturn at the corners of his mouth and it was the closest thing that Jungkook would get for years. It was also enough to make Jungkook think that maybe Yoongi wasn’t so bad after all.

From then on Jungkook began hanging about Yoongi in earnest. He’d slip away from the child centre and turn down the other kid’s invitations to go play to find Yoongi. He was often at the garage where he worked for a cynical old man who cared naught about rumors and was willing to rent out the back room of his workstation in return for Yoongi’s help or at other times by the forest where it overlooked the ocean.

At first Yoongi would tell him to leave but Jungkook had been persistent and knew how to be quiet when Yoongi wanted peace. Eventually it became apparent to Jungkook that even Yoongi got lonely at times and so sure enough he became the closest thing to a friend to him.

Sticking around Yoongi also taught Jungkook a few things.

The first was that Yoongi hadn’t started the fight; it had been this other hot headed guy in charge who had also then been the first to propose kicking him out. The second was that Yoongi’s parent’s accident had been just that. Yoongi tells Jungkook one late night after Jungkook has moved in with him that his parents used to argue a lot. All it had taken was one unattended stove and an over-boiling pot and it was enough to make them unable to argue ever again.

These two facts combined then taught Jungkook the third: that people lie. They might realize it or they might now, but people instinctively lie.

The kids had lied to him when they said they’d find him, the adults had lied when they said everything would be okay at the child centre, his parents most of all had lied when they had said they loved him and would never leave him.   

The only one who has never lied to him is Yoongi. Not about who he was or what how he feels towards Jungkook. Jungkook can think of no one he trusts as much, not even Namjoon who does his best to take care of them or even Seokjin who is trying his hardest to save their lives. Not Jimin or Taehyung who are like brothers to him, it’s not even Hoseok whose smiles brighten his every day.

Yoongi is the one who found him that day and Yoongi is the one who bandaged him when Jungkook came crying one day, arm red with blood from where one kid had pushed him and he had fallen all wrong. Yoongi is the one who watches the stars with him even though Jungkook knows Yoongi couldn’t care less about those ‘twinkling lights too far away to be useful’ as he so nicely puts it and in the end, Yoongi is really the only one who he has cared for enough to call family.

Therefore he cannot lose Yoongi, not now, not ever. Even if the motel boys aren’t going to do any actual harm, Jungkook cannot risk the chance. He has to get him. He has to find Yoongi and make sure he’s alright.

He’s so lost in thought that he barely realizes it when the car hits him.

Its headlights are off so Jungkook doesn’t see it coming as he stumbles over the zebra crossing. His eyes are too focused on what is ahead of him, not what comes from the side.

The impact feels like a kiss to his pain addled mind. It’s a er punch with the touch of feather duster. It hits him at an angle and Jungkook is thrown down, a huff and a puff and all the bricks come collapsing down.

All the breath is knocked out of him as he falls heavily, the rough tarmac like sandpaper as he skids, scuffing his hands and his cheek and the long expanse of his bare forearm. His vision wavers, pain overtaking and he almost passes out right there and then.

Everything feels amplified: the brightness of the street lights, the throb of his bruises all about his body, the stark white lines on the road.  

He reaches out, his fingers scrabbling on the road and someone is there in front of him. He peers up with blurry eyes but he can’t recognize the face. It’s a stranger, panic stricken and hands floundering about. The person is saying something but it’s like static to Jungkook’s ears, unintelligible.

Jungkook lifts his head slightly and somehow more people have gathered, their bodies huddled tightly like birds atop a branch, their faces and their expressions are a blur. Where have they come from? Why are they watching him? Where is Yoongi?

He tries to focus on the goal. Get up, get moving. His body refuses to obey. Jungkook lies there gasping like a fish out of water, unable to do a single thing.

He almost begs that someone will help him to his feet and Jungkook never, ever asks for help but somehow this time he thinks it’s acceptable to make an exception.

Then like an answer to his prayer a figure appears amongst the shadows. He’s broad enough that he could lift Jungkook up but instead of doing that he sinks to his knees and cups one hand about Jungkook’s cheek. His touch is cool and comforting.

“Oh Jungkook,” Seokjin whispers, sounding close to tears.

“Hyu…ng…?” Jungkook manages to say before a coughing fit comes over him. It hurts, the coughing, but he can’t seem to stop it. Something bubbles at his lips, warm and wet.  

“Don’t move, stay still Jungkook,” Seokjin says and Jungkook wants to laugh, wants to tell him not to worry because he can’t move no matter how hard he tries.

His vision clears enough that he can see Seokjin pull out his phone, calling for someone, probably the local doctor. He can’t actually hear the words because speech has turned into slush so instead he looks at Seokjin’s hands. They’re stained wetly with red.

Belatedly he realizes its blood. His blood.

Oh. He’s dying.

He struggles to move, wills himself his legs to shift and his hands to raise him up but he doesn’t get far. His legs buckle and his legs refuse to bend. He collapses back to the tarmac, more blood spilling down his lips and wetting his chin.  

“Jungkook!” Seokjin panics, one hand trying to keep Jungkook from moving, the other still holding the phone.

“I need to… find… hyung,” Jungkook pants, one hand clawing at the ground.

“Yoongi? I’ll call Yoongi afterwards. I’ve called the doctor and he’s coming.. We need to get you to the clinic Jungkook. So please, stay still, don’t make your wounds worse. Oh god how did you get so injured in the first place.”

“No,” Jungkook gasps. He can feel the blood run down his throat and the taste is unbearable “I need to… talk to him now.”

“Later Jungkook,” Seokjin moans. “Later.”  

But Jungkook can’t do later. He can feel it in his lungs, the build-up of blood and the cut off of oxygen. His gasps are growing shorter, each less able to take up oxygen. Something sloshes about in his throat and he’s no doctor but he knows it’s no good sign.

He doesn’t have time for later.

He reaches up with one hand to tighten it in a vice-grip around Seokjin’s wrist. “Call him now,” he huffs. “Please…”

“Okay,” Seokjin says softly, the panic still alight in his eyes. “I will okay. So please, calm down.”

Jungkook watches as he dials a number and puts the phone it to his ear. It rings three torturously long rings before it connects. When it does Seokjin speaks in a rush, his words tripping over one another. “Yoongi? Yoongi you need to listen to me. There was a-“

Jungkook tightens his grip on Seokjin’s wrist. “Is he okay?” he demands. He can taste blood on the back of his teeth and it makes him want to gag.

Seokjin wavers. “Are you okay?” he asks Yoongi as per Jungkook’s request.

There’s a murmured response and then Seokjin is leaning down. “He’s okay,” he says and just like that relief pours into Jungkook’s body, turning his muscles to jelly. He lets go of Seokjin and slumps down to the floor in a heap. Yoongi is okay. He’s okay. The thought rebounds in his mind and it’s all that he can think of.

“Jungkook!” Seokjin says, alarmed. “Hang in there Jungkook.”

There’s a faint buzz from the phone that Seokjin has dropped to the floor by Jungkook’s ear. Yoongi’s voice, dark and wonderful comes through. “Seokjin? What’s happening? Is Jungkook okay?”

Jungkook tries to reach for the phone on the floor. His arm doesn’t quite cooperate but he his head enough to speak into the receiver. “Hyung…” he croaks.  

“Jungkook?” Yoongi’s voice rings out tinnily. “Are you okay? Did something happen-“  

“Hyung,” Jungkook says again, interrupting him. “Your promise, do… you remember it.”

I will never lie to you and I will never leave you.

“Of course kid,” Yoongi says softly after a heartbeat. “Always.”

“That promise,” Jungkook whispers, feeling his voice start to give way. “You don’t need to keep it anymore.”

“What? Jungkook. Wait what are you talking abou-“

Yoongi’s voice slips away, washed down with everything else. Jungkook can see Seokjin reaching out for him but he can’t feel the hands on his shoulder, Seokjin shaking at him to stay awake, his eyes wide with panic and his mouth parted as he shapes Jungkook’s name over and over again.

From this angle Jungkook can’t look at the night sky. It’s a pity because he’s always loved the stars: bright lights that are worlds away. His mother used to tell him that stars were the souls of people who had Faded, their spirits still watching over where they had once stood.

It had been a beautiful lie and sometimes Jungkook wonders if the reason he hates lies so much is because of how much he wants to believe in them.

He had wanted to believe that the kids would find him, he had wanted to believe that the child centre would be everything he wanted it to be, and most of all, he had wanted to believe that his parents would have loved him enough to stick around instead of Fading.

Right now as he lies here feeling everything bleed into numbness he feels the strongest urge to tell a lie.

It’ll be okay. I’m going to be okay. And Yoongi will be just fine. 

Lie. Lie. Lie.

It’s not going to be okay. He is not going to be okay. And Yoongi of all people will not be okay.

Yoongi tries to pretend that he’s okay alone, that he’s strong and independent and that nothing will get him to Fade except death and death alone. But Jungkook knows the truth. Yoongi loves too fiercely and he’s lost too much for him to trust another to love. But then Jungkook came along and made a niche for himself in Yoongi’s heart and now he’s leaving him behind and Jungkook isn’t sure if Yoongi can survive being left alone again.

But Yoongi has Seokjin. He has Seokjin and Namjoon, Jimin and Taehyung, and Hoseok, always Hoseok. It may not be enough but Jungkook hopes that it will be. Wishes almost.

The last lie is for himself. That Yoongi will be okay. That he’ll live and get out of this town and survive till he’s one hundred or something.

It’s a pretty little lie and it’s not much, but it’s enough to makes Jungkook smile. And that is exactly how Jeon Jungkook age nineteen dies: with a smile on his face and a lie on his lips. 

===

The doctor arrives seventeen minutes too late to save Jungkook.

Seokjin is knelt there, his hands ghosting over Jungkook, afraid to touch him but afraid to not. His left hand is still coated in Jungkook’s blood. It’s drying now, sticky to touch but there’s nothing to wipe it off on except his own jeans.

The doctor pushes him aside when he arrives, slipping into the space so that he can kneel next to Jungkook’s prone body and reach for a pulse. Seokjin doesn’t need two years’ worth of medical training to determine that Jungkook is beyond saving. 

The doctor leans back on his haunches and stares at Jungkook’s crumpled body with a sobriety that Seokjin is not used to associating him with. “We should take him back to the clinic,” he says quietly so that only Seokjin and not the crowd behind him can hear. “He shouldn’t be left here on the road.”

Seokjin nods numbly and helps the doctor when he pulls out a white sheet from his bag and uses it to cover up Jungkook. The other townspeople lend them a long panel that they use to carry his body back and the man who hit Jungkook offers his car so they can drive it back to the clinic.

The man explains his side of the story, that yes he had been driving with his headlights off, but only because they were broken and he was heading over to the garage to get them fixed. The kid, as he refers to what is left of Jungkook, stepped out of nowhere and even though he hadn’t been driving that fast it seems that it had been enough to knock him down hard enough.

Seokjin doesn’t blame him, just thanks him for at least stopping to try to save him. At least with this town, Seokjin finds, is that because they walk and talk with the Fade looming over them, when an actual death occurs, it gets them working and scared, more alive and alert than they’ve ever been before, more cooperative to save what could be saved.

The man helps them unload Jungkook’s body and carry it into the clinic. The doctor tells them they can place him on one of the empty beds and the driver offers to take the panel back to the shop that loaned it to them.

The man doesn’t look back as he leaves.

Seokjin feels numb as he stands there leaning with his back to a wall and watching with a kind of TV detached sensation as the doctor bustles about the room and from outside there’s the sound of a car starting up and driving away.

The doctor pulls the sheets off of Jungkook and makes a clicking noise with his tongue when he spies the stains on it. The sheets go straight into the bin.

Jungkook’s head lolls back as the sheets slip away and a sudden urge to throw up buildings in Seokjin’s throat when he finally sees all the dark bruises that litter his skin like butterfly kisses. They don’t all look car-inflicted.

He takes three steps closer and he can make out clearly the slender bruise marks about his neck. If he lined up his hand to it Seokjin is almost certain his fingers would roughly fit the shape. 

Seokjin has to choke down the urge by stepping away from Jungkook’s prone body. It hurts to think too much. When was the last time he saw Jungkook before the accident? Last night? Yesterday morning? He vaguely remembers having being exhausted from a day’s worth of research and had had half fallen asleep through dinner with the others. He can’t even remember if Jungkook had the bruises then.

And now he’s gone. Gone in a way Seokjin had never thought would happen. He’s always been so focused on the Fade that he had forgotten there a hundred other ways that people can die by.

“Sit down,” the doctor orders as he goes about with a clean cloth and some liquid. He dabs at Jungkook’s face, wiping away the blood with a touch uncharacteristically gentle.

Seokjin does as he says. He sinks down onto one of the hard plastic chairs and only then does he realize how tired he was.

When the blood is gone the doctor straightens Jungkook’s clothes and re-positions his limbs so that he looks like he could almost be asleep. He pulls a fresh bedsheet over his body, right up to his chin, just as Namjoon spills into the clinic.

“Doc! You said Jungkook was-“

“Quiet!” the doctor snaps. “He’s in here.”

Namjoon walks in looking all sorts of broken. His eyes go straight to Jungkook and his knees buckle, his hand falling hard against the wall as he props himself up. There’s a disbelieving look in his expression.  

“How…” he whispers.

“A car hit him,” the doctor says matter-of-factly. “He was dead before I got to the site.”

“No…” Namjoon chokes. He staggers forwards and puts one hand to Jungkook’s cheek, trying not to flinch but his fingers tremble so much that he pulls his hand back before he makes contact.  

There’s the sound of the door opening and closing and then Jimin and Hoseok stumble in, their faces pale as they take in the scene and the sobriety of the room.

“Don’t let Jimin see,” is all Namjoon says and Hoseok nods and bundles Jimin out and into a different room. Seokjin hears the sounds of someone throwing up.

“Is he dead…” comes a harsh whisper to his right. Taehyung at his shoulder. He must have slipped past whilst Hoseok was occupied with Jimin. His eyes are so wide and so broken. His bottom lip shakes as he takes in just how still Jungkook is.

“He is,” the doctor says bluntly and Taehyung sinks to the floor, the shock evident on his face.

Seokjin rushes to cocoon him in his arms. “You didn’t need to tell him that,” he snaps at the doctor.

“Of course I did,” the doctor snaps back. “There’s no point coddling the boy. His friend is dead and it’s not going to miraculously be changed. Better he’s told the truth now.”

Hate the doctor as much as Seokjin wants to, he can’t help but agree that maybe he is right.

Taehyung shakes in his arms but does not say a thing. His eyes are still fixed on the pale sliver where Jungkook’s sleeves do not meet his wrist. Seokjin can see the dark kiss of a bruise there as well.

Seokjin bundles Taehyung in closer, turning his head so that he doesn’t have to look at Jungkook. He holds him until Taehyung stops shaking and Yoongi arrives.

He appears at the door quiet as a ghost, his face pale and his eyes wide. He doesn’t say a word, just follows everyone’s gaze and walks to the bed.  

His hands shake as he reaches over to place the curve of his palm to Jungkook’s cheek. As he makes contact a kind of wretched sob is torn out from his chest and he leans down to bury his face in Jungkook’s chest. The sound he makes breaks Seokjin’s heart.

He wants to go to Yoongi’s side but there is still Taehyung with his face buried in his chest and the fact that Yoongi probably wouldn’t appreciate it. He glances over at Namjoon who stands a good distance away and Namjoon shakes his head, a subtle sign that he agrees with Seokjin’s own deductions.

He pushes his way out of the room, presumably to go check on Hoseok and Jimin. The doctor is still seated in a black chair by the door, an unlit cigarette between his lips. There’s a glaze to his eyes and Seokjin wonders what he is thinking so deeply about.

Yoongi pulls away from Jungkook with a long, shuddering breath and Seokjin looks back to him. The patch on Jungkook’s chest is faintly damp and Yoongi’s eyes are red. Yoongi swipes at it with a sleeve.

Seokjin thinks it is unbearably cruel that never again will Yoongi hold Jungkook under one arm the way he did when Seokjin first met Jungkook, a tiny curled kitten in Yoongi’s curve.

Numbly, Seokjin wonders what will happen now. Will they bury Jungkook? Pray for him? Does this town even have a graveyard? And then what? Should he carry on searching for a cure? Try to move on? But how can he? The gaping hole that Jungkook will leave will be too big and it hurts, it hurts how much Seokjin wants to cry but he can’t. The tears, they refuse to come. It’s strange. He should be crying but he feels to numb for it.

Yoongi takes a step back, looks once at the doctor who dips his head in some sort of silent approval and takes the cigarette in one hand, crushing it in his grip and dropping it in the bin.

Seokjin watches as Yoongi slips his hands under Jungkook’s body and lifts him into his arms. He makes it look almost too easy, like death has robbed Jungkook of all his weight now that the spirit inside is gone.

“Yoongi?” Seokjin says questioningly.

Yoongi does not answer. He just hoists Jungkook into his arms and turns around, heading for the door.  

“Yoongi?” Taehyung in his lap weighs him down. He too looks confused.

“Let him go,” the doctor says quietly.

“But-“

“He’s taking the kid to the sea,” the doctor says, his eyes watching as Yoongi slips out the door, Jungkook’s body swaying in his hands.

“The sea?” Seokjin echoes, one hand still absentmindedly the nape of Taehyung’s neck where his hair is curling, his eyes at the window as he watches Yoongi walk down the street. “What for?”

“The kid loved the sea,” the doctor says. “Yoongi probably wants to take him there one last time before he goes.”

“Goes?” Seokjin repeats feeling like a broken recorder.

The doctor sighs. “Has anyone told you what happens in this town if you die? Die as in a real physical death and not Fade?”

Seokjin shakes his head.

“People Fade because they lose all hope in their bodies. If you die then what do you think happens to your hope?”

Seokjin feels so cold all of a sudden.

“It’s equivalent to losing it all at once,” the doctor continues without a pause. “The kid will probably vanish by sunrise.”

“Oh…” is all Seokjin can say. His head rings like its empty and the one word reverberates in all that space. Taehyung tilts his head up to look at him with glassy eyes that swim.

“Let them have their moment,” the doctor says, his words surprisingly caring. “That kid was all Yoongi had left to live for.”

“Of course,” Seokjin says hoarsely and his arms about Taehyung tighten as if Taehyung is all that still anchors him here. All that he had left to live for. He holds him there and tries not to think about the doctor’s words and what this will mean for all of them now.  

===

Namjoon takes the others home when it gets late. Before he leaves he tells Seokjin where Yoongi most likely will be.

The path is dark and Seokjin has to use a flashlight app on his phone to make sure he doesn’t trip over something. It’s less of a path and more of a dirt track lined either side with overgrown grass. It ends in a small hill that drops straight into a cliff overseeing the ocean.

He makes out Yoongi’s shadowy profile standing there. He’s alone.

“Hey,” Seokjin says softly, alerting him of his presence as he comes closer. Yoongi doesn’t turn; he barely reacts. He stares out at the dark sea somberly.

Seokjin sidles up to him and looks down where there’s a pile of crumpled clothing at his feet. He recognizes the sweater as the same one Jungkook favors wearing.

“Yoongi…” Seokjin says softly, his heart fracturing in tiny, tiny cracks. Yoongi’s eyes are still red and there are dry tear tracks on his cheeks. Seokjin wants to hug him, hold him and tell him that everything is going to be okay, but the thing is that it isn’t. Yoongi has just lost Jungkook, possibly the closes thing to family and nothing will ever make that okay.

So he just stands there quietly hoping that it’s enough to tell Yoongi that at least he is not alone.

When the silence is breached, it is Yoongi who does so.

“When he was fourteen I made a promise to Jungkook,” he says in a soft voice that is almost carried away by the sea breeze. Seokjin looks down and he can see Yoongi’s right hand is clasped tightly about the little Clipper, his thumb worrying at the button but not actually pressing down on it.  

His silence seems to encourage Yoongi to speak more.

“I told him I’d never leave him alone. Too many people had, his father, his mother, even his older brother left town and didn’t think to take him. For his fourteenth birthday he asked for a present. It was probably just a joke but I felt like he deserved it, so I made him that promise.”

Seokjin blinks, surprised that Yoongi would do that sort of thing.  

“Looks like I kept it didn’t I?” Yoongi says bitterly.

In the distance the sun is struggling to rise, pale fingers of grey creeping at the edge of the horizon.

“Yoongi…” Seokjin says softly.

“I just wish…” Yoongi chokes. “I just wish it hadn’t turned out like this. Jungkook didn’t deserve this. He deserved better. I should have made him a better promise, to keep him safe and healthier, happier or-“

“Yoongi,” Seokjin interrupts calmly. “Those sorts of promises you can’t keep. You know that and that’s why you didn’t make them.”

Yoongi falls silent.

“Jungkook was safe with you. He was safe and happy and as healthy as he could be. What happened, you can’t blame yourself. You can’t think that you could have changed things because it’s that kind of thinking that will torture you. Things like these just happen and…”

And could he have changed things? If he had finished his doctor course and walked away with all that knowledge, maybe could he have saved Jungkook in that moment?

But the moment has come and passed and Seokjin will never know and that hurts. He chooses to follow his own advice.

“Do you really think I made him happy?” Yoongi says quietly, his face downturned, eyes on the crumpled pile of clothes.

Seokjin kneels and takes the sweater in his hands. “Yeah,” he says softly as he folds the material neatly. He moves onto the jeans. “When I found him the first person he wanted to check on was you. Not me or Namjoon or anyone else – it was you.”

Yoongi swallows, the sound audible in the silence of dawn.  

“You were important to him and people are only ever important to one another is when they care. Jungkook cared about you and that’s because you made him happy, I’m sure of it.”

“Yeah?” Yoongi says, his voice cracking at the end of the word.

Seokjin gathers the folded clothes into his arms and holds it out to Yoongi. “Yeah,” he says with a gentle smile when Yoongi takes the clothes gratefully and clutches it tightly to his chest.

“Seokjin?” Yoongi says.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for this.”

Seokjin closes his eyes and leans over so that their shoulders touch. “You’re welcome,” he says softly and stays there until the sun fully rises, light harsh and in their eyes, and it makes it impossible to deny that Jungkook is gone. He’s gone and the tomorrow in which he does not exist has arrived.

===

He takes Yoongi home and puts him to bed. Yoongi falls asleep the instant his head touches the pillow.

Seokjin leaves the folded pile of clothes on the table and lets himself out quietly.

He tries not to think about how small Yoongi and Jungkook’s single apartment is as he walks through it. It’s just one bedroom, a kitchen, and a bathroom. Their beds are rolled mats on the floor and they store their clothes in cardboard boxes shoved to one side. It’s barely enough space for one person but with the pieces of Jungkook left everywhere: his clothing draped over chairs, the scrap paper with doodles on it, the pair of shoe at the entrance that looks too big to be Yoongi’s, like this, it suddenly makes the tiny apartment feel too big.

Seokjin takes Jungkook’s set of keys so that he can let himself in the next day and check up on Yoongi. He returns to Lily dog tired with the intention to sleep for at least eight hours to wear off the numbness in his limbs.

As he enters his room however those plans go out the window.

He pauses, the door falling shut behind him. Something is off though he doesn’t know what.

He looks about but his room looks intact, the sheets neat and the curtain drawn. He walks to the table to drop the keys there and then he realizes what it is.

The white lily in the vase is dying. Not completely but one petal has fallen to the table, its edges curled and browning. The rest of the flower still looks pristine but a second petal is drooping already. It gives off a faint smell, rich and earthy and it makes Seokjin feel slightly sick.

He crosses the room and throws open the window. The breezes helps.

He turns back and eyes the flower. It must have been some time since Soojung has last changed them and he’s not sure what that means.

It’s all just a coincidence, nothing more. He swallows and s his shirt, tries not to think more about it. If he does then it’ll make him question about the second petal and that is no good path for his thoughts to take him.

He turns in early. It’s not even five but he’s been up for almost a day and he’s exhausted now. Despite that though he lies there for a long time, his thoughts unwilling to let him rest. He thinks of Yoongi and of Jungkook, of Namjoon and Jimin, of Taehyung and Hoseok and-

Seokjin freezes.

Taehyung. Taehyung’s call. What had he said?

Hyung…I… I want to see you.

Seokjin’s heart leaps to his throat. How could he have forgotten?

He leans up and his fingers scrabble across the table for his phone. He pulls it to him and enters the code, his fingers dance across looking for Taehyung’s contact number. He dials it, his heart beating a mile a minute and it vibrates in his hand, once, twice, c’mon Taehyung, c’mon, and then-

“Hyung? This is rare. Why are you-“

“Taehyung?” Seokjin’s heart is jack hammering in his chest, so hard it almost hurts. “Yesterday you called me. You said something about wanting to see me. What happened? What-“ the words fail him but the silence tells him Taehyung knows what he’s talking about by his unusual silence, “what were you trying to tell me?”

More silence.

“Taehyung, please tell me.”

Another heartbeat of silence.

“At least tell me where you are,” Seokjin says instead.

A moment of hesitation. Then, “I’m at the abandoned pool. You know, the one in the forest.”

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Please don’t move,” Seokjin says in a rush. He changes his clothes in a rush, lining up his buttons with the wrong holes and zipping up his jeans so quickly he clips his thumb. He throws his phone in his pocket and barely remembers to grab the keys and his wallet before he’s out the room.

As always the front desk is empty and the sounds of snores from behind gentle and measured.

It takes Seokjin twenty five minutes to get to the pool. His heart almost gives out when he arrives and the place looks empty, but then he spies Taehyung sprawled across the mattress, just as he had been those many months ago when the others had brought him to the pool for the first time.

Seokjin drops down without ceremony and crosses the space in three long strides. His shoes click on the tiled floor enough to alert Taehyung but Taehyung doesn’t respond.

Seokjin stands there for a moment and then in a split second decision, drops down and rolls onto the mattress next to Taehyung. Taehyung does not say a word but he shifts to make room for Seokjin.

They both lie there in mutual silence. The sky is a bleached blue color as it gives way to night. The air smells sweetly of leaves. It’s still chilly but Taehyung lies next to him, a little space heater of his own.

He turns his head to break the ice and is surprised to meet Taehyung’s own eyes staring back, mournfully large and dark as pitch.

“What were you doing here?” Seokjin asks softly, coaxing him out of his shell.

Taehyung’s lips part. He at dry lips. “Listening,” he says in a voice roughened by disuse.

“For what?”

“For the voices.”

Seokjin frowns. “Why?”

Taehyung’s eyes are so, so dark. “I wanted advice,” he admits quietly.

Seokjin reaches over, a movement borne of the desire to be able to understand Taehyung, as if somehow a physical touch would do that. Their fingers link and Seokjin rubs at the skin between Taehyung’s index finger and thumb in warm, circular motions. “Tell me what happened Taehyung,” he says quietly, authoritatively.

Taehyung swallows and flexes his fingers. Seokjin lets him have his moment.

When he speaks, his voice is hollow and it resounds in the space of the empty, abandoned pool.

“I think I…I think I killed someone hyung.”

Seokjin freezes.

“I didn’t mean to,” Taehyung says, suddenly in a rush now as he takes in what must be a look of pure shock in Seokjin’s eyes. “I mean, well, I kind of wanted to but it was a heat of the moment thing. You see there was this guy being an and he was beating his girlfriend up, threatening her and stuff and she was crying for him to stop and I got angry. I didn’t mean to get that angry but…”

“But?” Seokjin says encouragingly.  

“But it kind of just overcame me,” Taehyung whispers, panic still alight in his eyes. “I saw him hitting her and then something inside of me said, just hit him back. And so I did. I picked up this broken bottle and it felt so right in my hand and I just… I just stabbed him with it.”

He finishes with a kind of disbelief, like re-telling the story means re-living it: the cold glass in his hands, the sharp shards digging into flesh and the blood welling to the surface, the choked cries and the eyes that say they will never forgive you.

Seokjin takes a deep breath, tries to thing logically and not emotionally. “Are you sure he’s dead? Did you see him…”

He wants to say die, but in this town the correct term would be Fade.

“I didn’t,” Taehyung says, “but I know he’s gone. I went back this morning and all the blood was gone. When you Fade every part of you Fades too, not just your body but your blood and bones as well.”

“I see,” Seokjin says a little stunned. “What about his girlfriend?”

Taehyung gives a tiny shrug. “I don’t know. I don’t know who she was. I don’t have any way of finding her and I… don’t really want to meet her.” He gives Seokjin a look of pure fear.  

“Oh Taehyung,” Seokjin breaths and closes the distance. He shuffles over and pulls Taehyung towards his chest, so close he can feel how fast his heart beats.

“I didn’t mean to kill him but he’s dead now and I know no one will blame me because that’s the way this town is but…” he gives Seokjin a huge look. “But I killed someone hyung,” he whispers. “I killed someone and it’s wrong but I don’t know what to do.”

“That’s why you tried to call me.”

Taehyung nods, his tousled hair burrowing into Seokjin’s chest. “I had to tell someone,” he says between measured breaths. “But then Jungkook died and I… I can’t help but think now that’s it my fault.”

Seokjin’s eyes widen. “Why would you think that Taehyung?”

“Because I killed someone and then right after that Jungkook died. Don’t they call it karma? What goes around comes around? If I hadn’t killed him then maybe Jungkook might still be here…” he trails off brokenly.

“Oh Taehyung, no, no, no,” Seokjin whispers. He cradles Taehyung’s face between his hands and makes sure he can’t look away. “It’s not your fault, it’s not. Not one bit. What happened to Jungkook was an accident you hear me? Yes you shouldn’t have… have killed that guy but you didn’t cause Jungkook’s death, okay?”  

“Okay,” Taehyung whispers, his voice cracking. He stares at Seokjin and tears well in his eyes again. Then, “hyung?”  

“Yes Tae?”

“What should I do now?”

Seokjin his lips. Night has fallen now and it’s pretty cold. When he exhales a white plume floats upwards.

“I think… we should find the girl,” he says thoughtfully. “You should talk to her, get the details from her, apologize if need be. Then we should find out if the guy has any more family and we’ll go from there.” He looks sternly at Taehyung. “I don’t need to impress it on you that what you did was wrong do I?” He asks it because of the very nature of this town. Death is a tragic subject here but very often it is synonymous with the Fade and to some, Seokjin has found, the constant flux of Fades about them has desensitized them to death.

Taehyung’s bottom lip trembles and he nods at Seokjin. “I know what I did was wrong,” he says quietly. “I didn’t want to kill him. I was just so, so angry and I didn’t know how to stop myself. Does that…make me a bad person?”

Seokjin mulls over his answer. He thinks of what the doctor said about the medicine and its side effects. “You’re not a bad person Tae,” he says soothingly. “Lots of good people do bad things and no matter what was the cause or reason you did save a girl. But your anger problems, those we’ll have to manage better okay.”

He smooths back Taehyung’s bangs. “Okay hyung,” he says quietly. Seokjin makes a note to bring this up with the doctor at a later date.

“That’s it Tae,” Seokjin smiles. “We’ll get through it together.”

Taehyung swallows. “I miss him hyung,” he confesses. “I miss Jungkook so much.”

Seokjin holds him there. “I miss him too.” It’s only been a day but it feels like an age.

“Yoongi-hyung must miss him the most.”

Seokjin squeezes tight his hand. “I’m sure he does.”

Taehyung squeezes back. “Thank you for coming hyung,” he says softly.

Seokjin pulls him in closer. “Always Tae. Always.”

He pictures Yoongi, lonely with the night sky as he only background. The sky above them is dark now, the stars peeking out from far above. He’s glad he got to Taehyung before anything else could happen, particularly since he was too late for Jungkook. He hopes he can be there for Yoongi as well now.

Good days or bad, they need to stick together now.

For now he holds Taehyung tight and looks upwards. Above the stars shine bright, but god are they so far away.

===

January.

It has been just over a month since Jungkook died and everything still feels disjointed.

Seokjin is torn between throwing himself into the search for a cure and between spending more time with the other members of their little group who are equally as ripped up about Jungkook’s death. No one mentions it but their meet ups are not the same anymore.

Jimin is quieter now, Taehyung experiences unpredictable mood swings that both he and Seokjin are trying to patch up. Hoseok has the tendency to fall asleep all of a sudden, sometimes mid-speech, and he looks increasingly more fragile with the passing of every day. Jungkook’s death has affected everyone more than they’d like to admit.

Only Namjoon seems relatively unchanged, more stoic than before but at least he still comes to their meet ups and engages everyone in chatter. He tries to pull them together but deep inside Seokjin can see him floundering.

Particularly with Yoongi. Yoongi comes and goes, more not there than actually there. He’s broodier without Jungkook, more liable to snap. When he is there his hands are always tightly gripping the little Clipper. He only holds it though, doesn’t light it up.

Seokjin can see the way Namjoon watches him. He’s worried for him; they all are, but Namjoon has known Yoongi for the longest and Seokjin thinks it scares him how much he’s changed.  

In the beginning Yoongi had refused to leave the house. Seokjin had gone over every day to feed him and throw him into the shower but Yoongi had refused at point blank to leave. Ironically it hadn’t been him in the end to get Yoongi to leave. His boss had called up on Friday and told him in most unsympathetic voice ever that work was building up and it was a tough job to train another mechanic half as good as he was so he better get his moving and in the garage or he’d be down with a few words of his own.

For some unfathomable reason to Seokjin, that had been exactly what Yoongi had needed. The day he was at the garage working steadily and that night he had turned up at their hideout and everyone had welcomed him in as if he had never been absent.

Seokjin had leaned over with a large smile on his face and he had ruffled Yoongi’s newly dyed hair and said, “pink suits you.”

Yoongi had closed his eyes and the edges of his lip had quirked upwards. “You suggested it,” he had said. And Seokjin had.

“Why now?” he had then asked and the smile melted away.

“Because,” Yoongi had said softly. “I think Jungkook would have liked it as well.”

And now that Seokjin thinks about it, he probably would.

The doctor tells Seokjin one day when he drops by the clinic that word was going around that some kids had been bullying Jungkook, provoking him into thinking they were going after Yoongi. They hadn’t but it was likely they had a part to play in how Jungkook had ended up that night.

It makes Seokjin’s blood boil, not just because this could have been avoided but because there is no really police enforced law in this town the boys get to walk away free. In this town the Fade is price and punishment for all causes.

Then again, all they could really be charged for is bullying and physical violence. They weren’t the ones who dealt the final blow, and the driver is not at fault either. He at least stopped and tried to help. No one is truly at fault and it only makes it even more infuriating. No one is at fault but Jungkook is still gone.

It’s the worst kind.

Seokjin tries to forget it all by throwing himself into research and into taking care of the others. When the days are bad he visits Jungkook’s grave.

The Faded here don’t have graves per say – there is no body after all – but some people like to leave markers, momentums to mark the final place where the Faded lay. Two weeks after Jungkook’s death and disappearance Seokjin had gone down to an old store in the middle of town that sold building equipment and he had bought from them a block of wood. With a spare knife he then chipped away at it until it had formed a crude star shape no bigger than his hand.

Seokjin had carved Jungkook’s name into it and placed it at the hill overlooking the ocean.

Yoongi had been there when he had dug the hole and fastened the marker there firmly. He hadn’t said a word but when he had sunk to his knees to the curve of the wooden marker, Seokjin had known it was appreciated.

Life moves on.

Seokjin continues his research and tries to ignore the whispers that fill the town the way the frost of early spring does. They talk about the boy who died. Seokjin tunes out the rest.

His mother calls sometime early January when he forgets about new year’s and he gives her brief answers and elaborate excuses of charges and bad reception. She doesn’t mention his birthday at all but does say he is still expected at his brother’s wedding which they think will be sometime late spring.

Seokjin continues to meet up with the other boys. He checks in on Yoongi at the garage from time to time and visits Namjoon at the gas station. He calls Hoseok who sometimes falls asleep and with no one to wake him up, stays that way for hours. The doctor tells him it’s probably a side effect of his increased dosage and there isn’t much that can be done about it.

The doctor has also been monitoring Taehyung closely. Lately Taehyung seems to be improving. He’s less moody but does experience swings of anger from time to time that take hours of talking to and brooding to help him recover from. They’ve reduced his dosage which should hopefully help with the raw anger but in exchange the doctor needs to monitor his heart levels more often.

All in all January is a month of struggle. It’s a month of them soldiering on, fighting for just another day. It’s a month without Jungkook and it’s a month that hurts a lot.

===

February.

February is a month filled with mindless tasks and the slow churn of improvement.

Taehyung’s mood swings have grown better in the last few weeks and the doctor says if he stays that way for the rest of the month then he’ll consider putting him back on medication.

For all of their searching they haven’t found the girlfriend of the man Taehyung killed and it still eats away at Taehyung but throwing himself into the search helps keep him occupied. Lately he’s been visiting Jungkook’s grave nightly with a new story to tell. It helps, every little bit helps.

Hoseok on the other hand has been worsening.

No one voices it but the whole of Hoseok’s right arm has been looking rather translucent of late. Its only really is visible under bright lights and the strong shine of sun which is pretty rare at this time of the year, but when it does shine it really shows.

The doctor tells Seokjin quite bluntly in private that Hoseok’s heart levels are dipping close to the low ends of stage 3. He has at most, another month.

In the midst of it all Seokjin gets a call late one night when he’s up in the doctor’s clinic reading through some data he thinks he might’ve skimmed over previously. All he understands is that restoring hope is the best chance at reversing the Fade but there is always once again the possibility that the Fade could occur again. In the end you can’t force someone to want to live.

Conversely though it seems it is very easy to force someone to want to die.

Seokjin wonders if he should search out the roots to the problem more firmly. He’s never really thought too deeply into it but he wonders why Hoseok of all people is one with the most serious case of Fade in their little group. It’s not Namjoon who acts morose and moody often, but apparently isn’t even stage 1 fade; it’s not Jimin either who of late has looked under the weather.

You should ask him yourself, the doctor had said. Sometimes the one who smile the most have the most to hide.

Seokjin closes his eyes and rubs at the bridge of his nose. Sitting here mulling over hypothetical thoughts is not going to get him anywhere. Maybe he should call it a night and then phone Hoseok up tomorrow and see if he’s free for lunch or something.

His phone buzzes atop the tabletop where he left it earlier, the noise making him jump. He wonders if it’s Hoseok with some sort of psychic power but when he reaches for it and picks it up, its Yoongi’s name flashing on the screen. He swipes at it and places the phone to his ear.

“This is a surprise,” is the first words that spill out of his mouth. He fights to keep his voice level. “Is everything okay? Yoongi?”

A cough and the sounds of something being crunched underfoot. Is he outside? “Hey Seokjin,” Yoongi says, sounding tired. “Sorry about that.”

There are further sounds of scuffling but it’s not atypical from Yoongi who spends most of his time shuffling about in the garage. After Jungkook’s passing, Yoongi spends a lot of his time there like working nonstop is this is the only way to stop thinking about all that has happened.

“It’s okay, so um, what did you call for?”

Yoongi gets straight to the point. “I wanted to discuss you leaving this town.”

Seokjin drops the sheet of paper he had been holding and all of a sudden he feels very, very awake.

“This again? I thought we were done with this topic” Seokjin asks hoarsely. He’s too tired to argue with him as he once would have normally done so.  

“Well not just you,” Yoongi amends. “I want to talk about you leaving the town with everyone else.”

“What?” Seokjin splutters.

“Jungkook never told me explicitly but I knew he always wanted to leave this town,” Yoongi continues, ignoring Seokjin’s sounds of shock completely. “Now that Jungkook is gone I figure we might as well make good of that and go.”  

“Yoongi, what are you…”

“This town is a dead end hole,” Yoongi practically snarls down the line. His fury is almost palpable and it scares Seokjin a little. Ever since Jungkook’s death Yoongi has been a little unpredictable, always a little on edge. “For god’s sake, people vanish here and nowhere else in all of South Korea. If that isn’t a sign this place is bad then I don’t know what.”

“So what? You just want us to just pack our bags and leave?” Seokjin says softly in return. Keep calm, he tells himself. Keep Yoongi calm. “With Hoseok in stage three and Taehyung in stage two? How are we supposed to do that?”

“You could leave them behind,” Yoongi suggests. “Take Jimin and Namjoon and go.”

“No!” is Seokjin’s immediate gasp. He’s horrified that Yoongi’s even suggesting he would do such a thing.

“Then take Taehyung and Hoseok as well,” Yoongi says so simply that Seokjin is thrown, utterly confused.

“What are you talking about Yoongi? Stop going in circles. Just get to your point!”  

“I think I know of a way to reverse the Fade. Or at least, a way for you to reverse the Fade.”

Seokjin feels his heart start to hammer again. “What do you mean? How can I save them?”

There’s the sound of more shuffling and curiously, the sound of a gurgle, the kind you get when you upend a bottle and everything rushes out too quickly. “Yoongi?”

A cough and then his voice returns. “Sorry. Look. This is probably sound to sound really ambiguous and everything, but just- just listen okay. I don’t have much time but I think this will work.”

“Not much time?” Seokjin echoes. “Do you have something to do after this?”

Yoongi swallows, audible even over the phone. “Something like that,” he says hurriedly and Seokjin feels the bad feeling creep down his back as slow as ice freezing. “But just listen,” he says before Seokjin can interrupt. “Have you been watching Taehyung this past month?”

“Of course I have,” Seokjin says, a little hurt at the thought he wouldn’t be. “I’ve been watching over everyone!”

“Then you’ll agree with me when I say Taehyung’s been improving, right?”

“Right…” Seokjin says, not really seeing where Yoongi is going.

“Where are you right now Seokjin?”

Seokjin blinks twice. “At the clinic. I was reading up on some of the records.”

“Is the doc there?”

“Um, I think so. This is his house as well isn’t it?”

“I want you to go check on something with him,” Yoongi says, an order almost.

“He might be asleep but I can see,” Seokjin says, a little confused.

“Go check. And if he is asleep then wake him up.”

Seokjin gets up quickly, pushing his way out of the records room and crossing the lobby. “Is this that serious that it can’t wait till morning Yoongi?”

“It is,” is the short answer.

There’s a lamp light on and sure enough through the crack in the door Seokjin can see the hunched back of the doctor. He knocks twice and when the doctor grunts, he pushes it open.

“Seokjin?” the doctor gives him a stare, one eyebrow raised. He smells of fresh smoke and he looks like he’s in dire need of a good shave and a strong coffee. “What is it this late?”

“It’s not me,” Seokjin shakes his head. He holds up his phone and presses the speaker button. “It’s Yoongi.”

Interest piqued, the doctor pushes his wheelie chair over. “What is it Yoongi?”

“It’s about Taehyung,” Yoongi says, his voice distorted through the line.

Seokjin sees the way the doctor frowns, the lines come out stark and dark between his eyebrows and at the edges of his mouth.

“What about him?” he asks in a curt voice.

“Tell Seokjin about his heart levels,” Yoongi says bluntly. 

Seokjin almost drops the phone. “His heart levels?!"

The doctor sighs and closes his eyes. “Trust you to be difficult Yoongi,” he says in a defeated tone. Then to Seokjin, “they’ve been improving. His heart level. They've been rising.”

“What?” Seokjin says loudly. “And you didn’t tell me?”

The doctor holds up one hand. “I didn’t tell you because it only started to show signs about two weeks ago. At first I thought it was just a fluctuation so I didn’t say anything. At last week’s checkup however it clearly went up. I was going to wait for another checkup before I said anything for sure.”

“So,” Seokjin breaths, his fingers tight about the phone, “if he’s improving then…”

“Then yes, it’s possible his Fade is being reversed.”

“But how? Why? Do we know what’s the cause?”

The doctor rubs at the bridge of his nose and exhales. The smell of smoke intensifies. “See this is why I didn’t want to tell you just yet, thank you very much Min Yoongi.”

“My pleasure,” Yoongi replies in a muffled voice.

“In answer to your question, no I don’t know for sure what the cause is. I have my suspicions but-“

“Tell me. Even if they’re just suspicions. If we can save Taehyung, then we could save Hoseok as well and maybe your plan is actually going to work Yoongi!”

“And what plan is this?” the doctor says, his eyebrows lifted in surprise.

“You don’t need to-“ Yoongi starts but Seokjin overrides him.

“The one to leave town, all six of us!” Seokjin spills and he barely hears Yoongi’s disgruntled sound over his joy.

He doesn’t see the way the doctor’s face darkens and how his mouth turns downwards. “Is that so,” he says quietly. “All six of you.”

“Yes, so please, if you have an idea, tell me!”

The doctor gives one long exhale. He looks exhausted, like he needs a good night’s sleep. Or a good ten. “Fine,” he says shortly. “It’s just a hypothesis but I think the cause of Taehyung’s elevated heart levels if you Seokjin.”

Seokjin stills. “Huh?”

“I told you before didn’t I? You were an anomaly, someone who came to this town but gained hope instead of losing it. Now my question was why? Why would you of all people gain hope from this town?”

Seokjin blinks but the doctor answers his own question.

“It’s because of your mentality.”

“My… mentality?” Seokjin repeats.

“Exactly, your mentality, or in other words your mindset,” the doctor says matter-of-factly. “It is, to put bluntly, unusual.”

Seokjin tries not to take that the wrong way. It’s not easy with a lot of things the doctor says.   

“Listen, most people who stumble upon this town do so because they can’t find their place in the world outside. Failed relationships, a lack or loss of goal in life, the inability to fit in, the reasons are endless but it remains the same: the people who come here come because in their hearts they’re done with living and when they enter this town their heart levels start to fall and that is when the Fade begins.

“I suspect you began with the same traits,” the doctor says, pointing one long, crooked finger at him. “Relationships with parents, maybe with a partner, even siblings, broken down and the best solution was to get away. Or maybe you weren’t happy with an occupation. Perhaps it’s something even simpler than that.”

Seokjin swallows and tries not to show how close to the target the doctor has hit.

“Those are my guesses because once you came to this town and met those railway boys of yours, your heart level rose. And if you lose heart because you lose your will to live, then when the reverse occurs doesn’t that mean you gained heart because you gained a reason for living?”

Seokjin stands there, his heart swollen with disbelief and yes, it makes sense. All this time he’s been searching for a place – for people – that he can call home and he’s always, always thought that these six are it. But for it to literally translate into a goal for his survival?

“How does that explain Taehyung then?”

“Yoongi? the doctor says. “Do you want to explain this part? It is after all your theory.”

Yoongi’s?

Seokjin glances down at the phone.

“Yoongi approached me a few days ago to talk about this,” the doctor explains.

“Sure I guess,” Yoongi says roughly as he steps in. “It was just an idea but doc, can you show him the charts?”

“Already pulling them out,” the doctor says as he grabs a black folder from his desk and pulls out two sheets. “Here, look at these Seokjin,” he says and Seokjin peers over.

The charts are for him and Taehyung. He can see how Taehyung’s heart levels have had a constant decrease until recently when it levelled out and slowly but surely began to rise. The other chart is his. Unlike Taehyung’s it’s maintained a steady rise until three weeks ago when it dipped down ever so slightly.

The breath catches in Seokjin’s throat. He estimates the decrease of his heart level and then compares it to the increase of Taehyung. There’s a week gap between the change but…

“It’s-“

“The same,” the doctor finished for him.

Seokjin looks up, incredulous. “Does that mean?”

“You’re restoring Taehyung’s heart level,” Yoongi answer for him.

“But, how? Why?” Seokjin splutters.

“It’s just our theory but we’re thinking that because you’re the anomaly, finding a reason to live in this town of the destitute and dying, then maybe you’re influencing those around you.  You get sad when others around you get hurt but with your character you don’t get sad for long, and when your heart levels return to normal you bring the heart levels of those around you up as well.”

“And seeing as how you’ve been spending a lot of time with Taehyung lately it makes sense that his heart levels would increase the most,” Yoongi finishes.

“So?” Seokjin’s heart is fit to burst from his chest. “So if I hang around the others more then I could possibly reduce the Fade enough for everyone to leave?”

“It’s a possibility,” the doctor admits. “We’re not one hundred percent sure, but there’s a high chance it would work. We’d have to test it but Taehyung is stage 2 right now. In a few months if you can pull his levels up to stage 1 then it would be good proof.”

“And if they’re stage 1 or higher, could I get them to leave town like that?”

The doctor scratches the back of his head. “Theoretically yes. We say that those with stage 1 Fade are unable to leave but really that’s just a borderline mark. As long as your heart rates are over nine hundred or so you should be able to leave.”

“Then the plan could work?”

The doctor frowns in thought. “Well yes. Namjoon and Jimin’s levels should be fine to leave. However Hoseok would take much, much longer. And it is also dependent on what he wants.”

“What do you mean by that?” Seokjin says with a frown.

“Hoseok…” the doctor averts his eyes. “I don’t know if he will want to leave this town.”

“What do you mean by-“

“Talk to Hoseok yourself,” Yoongi cuts in. “But for now, do you understand? The solution is this. You’ll have to test it for the next few weeks or so but if it works and you can bring their heart levels up, would you be willing to leave this town then?”

Seokjin his lips. “But what about you guys? Do you really want to leave this town? It’s your home after all.”

More than that though, it’s the last place with ties of Jungkook. Leaving here would mean leaving all that they remember him for behind. And if Seokjin feels reluctant to do that, he can only imagine how Yoongi feels.

“That’s not the concern. The longer you stay here the more chances once again your heart levels will drop. The only way you can avoid the Fade is if you leave and never come back.”

“Yoongi,” Seokjin cuts in. “Why do you keep talking about me. You make it sound like only I’m going to leave.”

“That… is not true. You’re all going to leave-“

“Yoongi, where are you?” Seokjin interrupts.

Yoongi swallows and now even the doctor is looking over at Seokjin, his eyebrows draw together tightly.

“Yoongi?”

“I’m in town,” he says shortly.

“Where about in town?”

“In the residential area, downtown,” he says slowly.

“Why?” Seokjin can’t hold back the sharpness of his tone. The worry saturates and he knows Yoongi can hear it.

“I…”

“You didn’t tell them did you,” the doctor interjects quietly. “Did you Yoongi?”

Seokjin’s eyes goes to the doctor. For once he sees alarm in the man’s normally morose eyes. He has only ever seen this expression once before. “Tell us what?” he demands, half to Yoongi, half to the doctor who never seems to tell him anything until asked of and Seokjin has had enough of secrecies.

“Don’t tell him,” Yoongi says roughly, his voice all of a sudden on edge, sharp and raw like a serrated knife.  

“Tell me,” Seokjin orders. The doctor looks torn.

Defeated, he sighs. “Yoongi reached stage four a few days ago,” he says quietly and Seokjin’s heart thuds, does this kind of backflip that fails and as he falls all the breath is knocked out of his body and his head rings with this truth that he does not want to hear.

“Yoongi?” he whispers towards the phone. His voice cracks. “Is this true?”

“It’s…true…”

“And you didn’t tell us?” Seokjin hisses furiously down the line. In his peripheral vision he sees the doctor sink heavily back into his chair. He looks haggard and old all of a sudden. It strikes Seokjin that for all his brusque nature he’s a doctor in a town like this and that must mean he’s seen countless people come and Fade and it must break you somewhere down the line.  

“Why would I,” Yoongi says brokenly. “There’s nothing you can do for me.”

“What about all we just discussed? The potential cure? You could have talked to me earlier, we could have tried this before. Don’t just give up now!”

“No, Yoongi was right,” the doctor says in a shaky voice. “It is too late. For him at least.”

Seokjin whirls on him. “What do you mean?”

“Stage four typically lasts three to four days. It’s not enough time for us to try the theory and that’s partially why we didn’t tell you. Also…”

“Also?”

The doctor reluctantly meets his eyes. “Also Yoongi wants this.”

Seokjin is out the door in seconds, racing down the empty streets and towards the town centre. He hears the doctor call out behind him but he can only focus on the thought of Yoongi alone, who knows how many days into stage four, and he knows exactly what this means.

He puts the phone to his ear as he races down a residential street. “Where is the motel Yoongi?” he demands down the phone.

“Don’t come here Seokjin,” Yoongi says softly.

“Where is it!”

“You won’t achieve anything coming here,” he says flatly. “I’m still going to Fade no matter what.”

“Why didn’t you tell us? Did you just want to disappear without saying a word?” Seokjin practically cries as he tears down the street. “Why are you so stubborn like this? I know you must miss Jungkook but what about us? Aren’t we worth living for?”

Yoongi’s voice is so quiet that Seokjin almost misses it between his heavy breaths for air. “I wish you were.”

Seokjin stops, an involuntary action borne of disbelief at Yoongi’s answer.

“Do you really mean that?”

“I could tell you elsewise but it would be a lie,” Yoongi says softly. “I’m Fading and you know what that means.  It means that nothing here is enough to keep me here: not you, not the others, there is nothing.”

“Yoongi-“ Seokjin says painfully for each word digs in like barbed wire, the wound small but blossoming with blood. “Don’t say that.”

“Don’t say what? The truth?” Yoongi says almost harshly. Then he sighs like he’s tired of being strong. “I don’t do half-truths or lies Seokjin, I thought you knew me better than that. I’m Fading, I can barely see my right leg anymore. I can hardly feel my left arm. I could tell you pretty lies like everything will be fine and somehow I’ll find a way to stay here but you know that’s not happening Seokjin.”

“So what?” Seokjin half sobs. “You’re going to Fade in some nondescript motel somewhere without any telling any of us. You’re going to Fade alone and you think that by not telling us you’ll protect us?”

“I never thought that,” Yoongi says softly, tiredly almost. “I just… there was something I wanted to do and I knew you’d stop me.”

“And what was that Yoongi?” Seokjin asks, equally as soft, equally as tired of losing the people about him.

“I couldn’t Fade without making sure those boys paid a price,” Yoongi says, his voice thin as ice and sharp as a needle.

“Which boys?” Seokjin asks, suddenly very afraid.

“You know which ones,” Yoongi says quietly. “The ones who hurt Jungkook.”

“They didn’t cause his accident,” Seokjin says warningly.

“I know they didn’t, but still, they hurt him in other ways that I can’t forgive.”

“Punishing them won’t bring Jungkook back.”

“Nothing will bring Jungkook back,” Yoongi says flatly. “This isn’t for him. This is for me. And I don’t want to let them think they got away with it.”

“What are you going to do to them?” Seokjin whispers, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Teach them a lesson,” Yoongi says softly.

“Yoongi-“

“Don’t stop me Seokjin,” Yoongi cuts him off. “If I’m going to Fade then this is the last thing I want to do.”

“Yoongi,” Seokjin says wretchedly. He starts running again, heading straight into the thick of town. He’ll search every building if he needs to; scour every potential motel until he finds Yoongi. He’s not giving up on him, not the way Yoongi has given up on himself. “Please, please just stop. Tell me where you are and we can try to figure things out.”

“We can’t Seokjin,” Yoongi says. “You heard the doctor. It’s too late for me.”

“Don’t say that,” Seokjin moans as he comes to a stop in front of a black lit motel with a rusty plate outside that Seokjin can’t read. He throws open the doors and finds a drowsy woman in her late thirties lounging at the reception desk.

“Do you know if there’s a Min Yoongi in here?” he all but demands, his hands flat against the table.

She blinks in surprise and Seokjin wouldn’t be too shocked if she turned tail and ran, what with his eyes wild as the devil, panting for breath, sweaty and clothes rumpled.

“No,” she stutters in her surprise. “I don’t think so.”

“Thank you,” Seokjin says quickly as he dashes back out. He puts the phone again to his mouth. “Goddammit Yoongi, just tell me where you are.”

He hears Yoongi chuckle softly. “You try so hard Seokjin. I guess it’s why I couldn’t hate you no matter what.”

“Enough of that, where are you?”

“Hey Seokjin, I know I’m probably asking too much but… when I’m gone-“

“Don’t you dare start this Yoongi,” Seokjin hisses down the line as he sprints down the street and enters another motel looking place. It’s not and the man politely but a little frightened points him at the next closest inn. “Don’t you dare start this promise and sentimental ! You don’t get to just give up. Jungkook would hate you for this.”

A laugh. “He would,” Yoongi admits. He sounds like he’s lying down, his voice soft and serene, half gone already. “But you know Seokjin, he the only family I ever really had.”

Seokjin runs, trying to preserve his breath.

“My parents never really loved me. I don’t think they ever wanted a kid. They were the kind of couple who enjoyed romance and the easy life and a kid changed everything. It’s probably not too farfetched to say I was the reason their relationship disintegrated.”

“Yoongi-“ Seokjin tries to interrupt but to no avail.

“When they died in that fire a part of me couldn’t help but think, thank god, I’m free now.” Yoongi laughs a little bitterly here. “Maybe I was a curse on them. Maybe in a way I did cause their deaths.”

“Don’t say that Yoongi.”

“Everyone else in the town thought so. I could see it in their eyes. The adults, they wanted me gone. The other kids in the centre, they were afraid of me. They thought I was going to burn them all down like I did with my parents.”

“But you didn’t Yoongi, did you?” Seokjin wonders for a moment what to do if Yoongi says he did.

“I didn’t,” Yoongi admits. “But I might as well. When the fire started and got out of control they started screaming and all I did was crawl out of the window and run. I didn’t even think of calling for help, I just ran and watched as the house burned down and my parents with it.”

“That’s okay Yoongi,” Seokjin shouts desperately into the phone. “You were a kid! What were supposed to do?”

“I don’t know,” Yoongi says honestly. “I probably couldn’t have changed a thing, just like how I couldn’t help Jungkook at all. But Jungkook, he didn’t deserve to die at all. He was… he was the only person who ever looked at me with so much trust in his eyes. Maybe it’s because he wanted affection so much in return that he gave me so much and I … I couldn’t push him away.”  

Seokjin pants as he flings open the motel door, dark blue paint that melds into the darkness of the unlit street. “Is there a Min Yoongi here?” he all but demands and the old man behind the desk stares back bewildered.

“Min Yoongi? The blonde hair devil of a kid? The one who works down at the garage?” he asks in a raspy voice.

“Yes that one,” Seokjin says, lacking air enough to correct the man.

“No, he’s not here,” the old man says, blinking like Seokjin is crazy or something. “Why would he be? He doesn’t have any business here.”

Seokjin is out before the man can even finish his sentence.

Yoongi speaks before he can ask again for Yoongi’s location. “You won’t find me there Seokjin,” he says quietly and there’s the sound of something cracking, like wood splintering and giving or something.

“Just tell me Yoongi, where are you?” Seokjin all but begs into the phone.

“I can’t Seokjin,” Yoongi says and Seokjin imagines his eyes would be closed now, his strength giving out. Seokjin has never seen anyone Fade before but he knows it’s slow at first, the numbness lapping at the edges of his consciousness. Then, like a hunter in the dark, it will snatch him up all at once. “I don’t want you to find me Seokjin.”

“Why? Seokjin cries. “Why won’t you let me help you?”

“But you are. You’re helping me by helping them.”

“You know I don’t mean it like that!” Seokjin yells frustrated down the line.

“But you have to. You’re the only one who can take them away from this town. This dead end hole of a town.” Yoongi sounds bitter. “Nothing good ever came of this place, so take them away from here. Take them far away and never let them come back, can you promise me that?”

“If I do what will you promise me in return huh Yoongi?” Seokjin says, close to tears. “Will you promise to come along as well? Will you promise to stop this silliness and let me find you? Will you finally let me be your friend?”

Yoongi laughs, a soft, powdered thing and it’s so, so sweet that Seokjin wants to bundle him into a hug right here and now and never let him go, Fade be ed.

“Oh Seokjin, don’t you realize?” Yoongi says gently. “You are already my friend.”

Seokjin stills, his heart beating for a very different reason now.

“I’ve never said it before but I’m glad you came to this town. I’m glad I got to meet you and I know I can trust the others to you.”

“Don’t do this Yoongi,” Seokjin despairs. 

“I…” Yoongi’s voice catches and Seokjin thinks he can hear the sound of collapse on the other side now, the true splinter and dissolve of all that keeps Yoongi tied here. “I take back what I said when you first came here. You’re not so bad after all, tourist.” And there is the teasing lilt that Seokjin has only ever caught in glimpses before, in tiny shards of light that dance away when he turns to look for much longer and no, Yoongi can’t be, he can’t-  “Thanks for everything.”

The line goes dead and Seokjin stares at it, horrified.

He lifts his head and somewhere in the distance he can see the flicker of flames on the horizon. It devours away at the night and it devours away at the hope in Seokjin’s heart.

===

The flames fill the room now, long tongues of red and orange. They dance about like snakes, slithering about the room and feeding upon the copious amounts of gasoline that he took from the garage and half drowned the motel in. Their hungry mouths engorge upon the rotting wood and the wallpaper of the run down motel room.

There should be enough fire to at least burn the motel into an unusable husk.

Yoongi lies on the moth eaten bed sheets, watching as the flames grow higher about him.

In his hand is the clipper that has always calmed him down. He presses down on the button and watches as the little flames comes to life, lets go and feels the morbid satisfaction of choking out life.

The clipper was all that was left of his parents. Yoongi remembers how his parents used to share a smoke before they went to bed, their hands trading the lighter between the two of them and then they would sit back with the window open and smoke. It was the only time there was truly ever peace and when the men who had excavated all that was worth salvaging from the house had brought it to him, Yoongi had knew he couldn’t let them throw it away with all the other half burnt items.

In an amusingly morbid way it seems that Yoongi will die just as his parents did. They perished by fire, lit by the very clipper he holds.

But unlike how they died, angry and violent towards the world that shackled them down, Yoongi will go with peace.

The only thing he regrets is being unable to stay with the other five that little bit longer.

He imagines Namjoon will cry great boatloads of tears. He’s always been a bigger sap than he let on. Jimin will be the same, he’s never been one to hold back tears. He suspects Jimin has a little crush on him and he’s sorry that it’ll be squashed like this. Taehyung on the other hand will probably be the only one to let loose the tears without restraint. Hoseok, dear old Hoseok will probably be the biggest crybaby of them all.

And Seokjin, the tourist, the traveler, the stranger who Yoongi thought wouldn’t last a week here. His words to Seokjin were not a lie: he’s glad to have met him and he’ll gladly entrust his friends to him.

Really Yoongi has been so lucky to have them as friends.

The flames are growing closer now, Yoongi can feel them lap at his bare feet now. They should hurt but the Fade seems to have numbed most of his sensations and all they do is cause a gentle tickle.

Yoongi leans back and stretches his right arm out. His left one is completely unresponsive now. He plays with the Clipper one last time, lighting it up and watching it go out. On and off. On and off. On and-

Playtime’s over hyung.

His right arm goes dead and the clipper rolls out away from his unmoving fingers.

This is it, he thinks. This is how it all ends for him.

He watches as the flames grow closer, as the tips of his fingers start to literally vanish, the translucency running down the length of his arm like liquid. He doesn’t feel much. It kind of just feels like falling asleep so very slowly.

His eyelids grow heavy and he lets them flutter close. Behind them he envisions Jungkook, the bright eyed, cheeky Jungkook whose eyes were brighter than any of the stars he liked to watch.

What he said was not a lie. There had been a part of him that had harbored a tiny hope that the remaining five would be enough to keep him here. But at the same time Yoongi had known that no one matched up to Jungkook and when he had noticed how the Fade had taken over the entire space over his stomach he had closed his eyes and given in to really, what he had known was coming all along.

He wonders if another world and another time maybe they’d get more. More time to be friends, brothers, more time to spend fooling about and taking midnight drives to beaches where they’ll swim in until they get cold and then run about to dry off. More time to sing songs out of tune around a bonfire and more time to visit every burger joint down the coast and consume all it had to offer. More time. Just a little more time would have been nice, Yoongi thinks wistfully as the darkness encroaches around him.

Just a little more time to play with the sparklers about the pierside and crunch the autumn leaves of the forest underfoot. Just a little more time to finish those cars he had been setting aside so that he and Seokjin could race down the length of the beach. Just a little more time to see them smile, hear them laugh.

Just a ... little more time ... to... to...

to...

...

..

.

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