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Kris wakes up the next morning feeling just as bad and tired and still horribly aware of his life with a new bottle of pills on his cabinet that he ultimately decides that don’t help the least bit. He took two, right before getting out of the doctor and he obviously woke up worse than he fell asleep. His head hurts and the feeling of weariness and panic rush through him before he can even wake up properly. He goes to the bathroom and throws up, mostly bile, into the sink. His knees go weak and his head starts to spin so he lets himself fall to the floor. He keeps Chanyeol in mind as he avoids the reality strike him too hard. He needs to forget. He needs to keep his feelings aside for the sake of Chanyeol. But he feels so tired and so worn out and angry and sad and a mix of everything combined along with the excruciating pain that lies inside his chest. He just wants to make it go away.

He fights every cell on his body and stands up. He goes by Chanyeol’s room after tidying up and creeps inside without fair notice. Chanyeol turns his head as he hears Kris.

“Baekhyun?”

“No. It’s me Channie.” He goes over his already staged lines.

“Where’s Baekhyun?” His voice sounds different than usual, deeper, less scared, and Kris has a feeling this is going to be one of the tough mornings.

“He’s out.”

“Tell me the truth!” Chanyeol raises his voice it almost shocks Kris.

“He’s out Channie.”

“No he isn’t! Where is he?!” He gets up but doesn’t budge for his spot. Kris takes a good look at Chanyeol and he feels his heart break. Shatter into a million pieces as he sees what the man he loves became. What he let the man he loves become. There is nothing he can do to make this go away. There’s no solution. There are no pills in the world to make all of this go away.

“He’s dead Chanyeol.” He answered raspy. Chanyeol’s eyes widen and he starts to tremble as if he was reliving everything again. Kris wants to reach and hug him but something keeps him rooted there. He can’t fight himself. He feels numb.

“No! No! Baekhyunie!! NO!!” He shouts and his voice reverberates through the silent room. He starts to push things off the surfaces near him with fury and Kris can only watch as he breaks down before his eyes. This was the most he’s seen Chanyeol react in months. “Bring him back! Bring him back!!” He’s starting to sound crazy and suddenly he halts, with his chest heaving. “Where’s Baekhyun?” He looks pleadingly at Kris as if he didn’t just break out in angry the second before.

“He’s dead.” Kris repeats this time getting closer.

“No. No!” Chanyeol starts again as if receiving the news for the first time and Kris feels the air leaving his lungs. He can’t be stuck in a loop with Chanyeol. He just can’t.

“He’s dead Chanyeol.” He goes closer.

“No…”

“He’s dead.”

“NO!” He pushes Kris but faintly with almost no force on his limbs. The cover that usually lies on his shoulders falls and Kris can see the skin stretch around the joint bones and how his frame became considerably smaller. It pains him. It’s so heartbreaking to watch, he feels his heart trapped in his throat at the sight. Chanyeol’s dying right before his eyes and he isn’t doing anything to help him. “No!!” Chanyeol gets ready for another round of pushing things to the ground but Kris holds him from behind, gripping tightly, with his arms around Chanyeol’s thin waist. The boy fights uselessly as he keeps screaming Beakhyun’s name, each time giving a to Kris’ chest. Chanyeol goes limp after a while and falls to his knees and Kris, unable to handle himself up either, falls with him.

Kris stays held to him until Chanyeol drifts to sleep, probably the only sleep he’s had in days.

---

“Do you cry?” The psychiatrist his doctor assigned him asks. She made a house visit, without previous notice, and Kris couldn’t find the strength to fight her off.

“Sometimes.”

“You might not believe me but that’s actually a good thing.” Kris shoots her a look. “Crying helps, even if it sounds overused, it really does and it’s a sign that you’re coping with your grief.” Kris keeps quiet and thinks of Chanyeol. How the boy never shed a tear ever since. How he just blankly stared at everything. Even how he never actually believed everything ever happened and seemingly pushed it down so further inside him to a point he lives on a personal lie his brain created to make him believe everything is okay. “Do you have any recollection of the accident?” The words sink in slowly as images of that day run by his eyes. He had blocked them for self-protection that he almost forgot what had happen. For all he cared, his friends had died and that was all he needed to know.

*

The management rented a car big enough for thirteen people to fit inside so they would arrive together and on time. The trip is too far to guarantee several vans to get there at the same time. It was easier that way.

Yifan jogged to the van to seat in the back to doze off and got surprised when Chanyeol plump himself next to him, he thought the younger to want to share a cheerful conversation with Baekhyun throughout the way. He didn’t complained though and reclined his head on Chanyeol’s shoulder and they both ended up dozing off leaned on each other.

Yifan only woke up next to heavy shattering.

“Jongin!” He hears Junmyeon shouting and the some of the others making disgusted noises.

“What?”

“Keep it to yourself.”

“He asked.”

“How can Kyungsoo hyung even do that?” Yifan recognized the voice being Sehun’s.

“Sehun!” Now it’s Luhan’s voice conjoined with Junmyeon’s cries.

“Oh Kyungsoo is a lot more skilled than you’d thin-” Jongin was starting to answer.

“Enough!” Kyungsoo’s voice rose. Yifan shot his head up and took a glance at Kyungsoo who was hunched over his seat to slap Jongin across the head. Yifan laughed faintly. He took a look around only to catch the outline of the back Baekhyun’s head in front of him. Chanyeol had leaned to the other side so Yifan disconnected from him and propped himself on the rim of the front seat and looked over Baekhyun to see what the boy was doing. He was fumbling with his phone and playing some kind of game. Yifan poke his touch screen just to piss him off but the boy only looked up surprised and smiled brightly. It made Yifan’s heart writher. He wants to hate Baekhyun because Chanyeol obviously likes him and doesn’t see Yifan as nothing more than a friend because he likes, or even loves Baekhyun. But it’s physically and mentally impossible to hate Baekhyun and Yifan is actually fond of the little guy. So he only keeps on feeding his stupid unrequited love over Chanyeol by enjoying friendly touches a little too much and adore Chanyeol’s attention and pretending that Chanyeol’s jealousy over his and Baekhyun’s over-companionship it’s directed at him instead. It’s not healthy but it’s the only way Yifan finds to keep on going.

He beams back at Baekhyun and looks next to him to find a sleeping Yixing. Truly a cute vision to be looking at. Kris pokes Yixing’s cheek only to receive a soft scold from Baekhyun.

“You’ll wake him up duizhang.” He says with an eye smile that makes Yifan’s heart only tighten more. He’s not surprised at all that Chanyeol fell in love with Baekhyun. He would too if his heart hadn’t already been struck by cupid. He retrieves and reclines back on his seat.

The next minutes are only blurs and black shapes.

The minutes after that are tainted red.

He tries to focus his eyes only to realize he was hanging upside down hanged on his seat belt. He wonders how long he has been there passed out his stomach is hurting from the pressure of the belt on it. Everything around him is silent. His heart is pounding, almost vibrating inside his chest. He tries to focus his hands and he sees red on them and little cuts but it doesn't actually hurt him. He feels weird and dizzy and his head is pounding heavily as he feels blood rushing to it. A sudden feeling of blood boiling and cold air hiting him are making him shiver.

He looks down, in his case up, and sees Baekhyun. His eyes are open, dark and emotionless, and there’s blood running down his forehead. Yifan chokes on air as he tries to scream but no sound comes out, or maybe he can’t hear it. He panics as he tries to untie his seat belt with hasty, shaky hands. It’s only when he falls on his back down on the floor, that was once the roof of the van, does he realize where he is and what physical pain feels like. He looks up and sees Chanyeol fallen, just like he was, unconscious. Yifan’s heart goes to his throat. He tries to get up. He feels his body in a frantic weird shock and he stumbles upon himself feeling dizzy and panicky and wired up somehow. He shakes Chanyeol but the boy doesn’t wake up. He only breathes out in relief when he takes a second to check if the boy was breathing. He unfastens Chanyeol’s seat belt, after investigating if he didn’t had any injury, and catches him in his arms so he won’t fall. He leaves him lied down and tries to look for the door to find it now on the opposite side.

He looks down careful not to trip when he sees Yixing fallen there, immobile, turning pale. It hits Yifan even harder and he finds the walls of the van closing down on him and breathing starts to become impossible. He falls to the ground on his knees into scattered glass near Yixing’s head. It only comes to him that he’s crying when he sees drops falling from his face. Yixing still looks so peacefully as when he was sleeping. Yifan’s heart is tightening so hard he think he might faint. He can’t even get up. He can only stare and stare and be still with thick tears rising and falling uncontrollably. He can’t even find the courage to check on the others. The pain inside his chest is becoming excruciating the more he looks at Yixing. He leans and caresses Yixing’s cheek. Air leaves his lungs as fast as it comes back. He chokes. Yixing’s cold and the pink that once crossed those cute cheeks is rapidly fainting. Yifan’s head starts to hurt even more. He’s suddenly aware of noise again and he can hear himself crying.

He notices there’s no movement at all so he tries to get up to check on the others. He fails a couple times before succeeding. He takes a couple more steps hunched so he won’t hit the top of the car and his heart sinks down again. Jongin, Sehun and Luhan are dead. There isn’t even any margin for error. Jongin has practically crossed the window. Sehun, just like Baekhyun is lying in an unnatural position with his eyes just slightly open, blood running from his skull and Luhan is next to him looking terrifyingly like a rugged doll that was tossed into garbage. Yifan has to support himself up not to fall again. He doesn’t believe he can go through the rest. He starts to feel numb. He looks to the side and catches a glance of Zitao’s hand. He starts to cry all over again, if he ever stopped, and this time he can hear himself screaming. He chokes. His throat goes dry and starts to close up and he can’t stand straight. He can’t hold his weight up so he falls a second time. He reaches and touches Zitao’s soft hand and it's still warm. Yifan lets his forehead touch the back of his hand as he lets all the pain fall with his tears, feeling his chest closing up on him. He squeezes it and lets himself cry on the floor until he can’t anymore. Until he has no more tears to shed.

He only gets up when he hears a scream. It’s Chanyeol. He lets go of Zitao’s hand and looks behind him only to see Chanyeol hovering over Baekhyun.

“NO! BAEKHYUNIE!! NO! NO!” Chanyeol is screaming. Yifan moves the fastest he can he grabs Chanyeol by the waist. “NO! Let me go!” The boy battles. “BAEKHYUN!!” His face shows fear and pain and everything in between but Chanyeol isn’t crying. He’s merely staring widely at Baekhyun with his arm stretched, his hand already bloody from having touched Baekhyun’s head, to reach him again. “Baekhyunie.” He chokes. Yifan only hugs him tighter, burying his face on his back, and stays that way until eventually Chanyeol will calm down. It takes a while but he eventually does. When Yifan looks up at him his eyes are just as wide and he’s looking down at Baekhyun just the same. Yifan caresses his cheek but Chanyeol doesn’t flinch. He experiments on pulling him up but he doesn’t cooperate so Yifan goes to the adjacent door and tries his best to pull it open. He almost falls to the side. He looks down and sees Zitao’s soft features looking as if sound asleep. He fights back his tears but as he looks further he sees Jongdae covered in more blood and his heart clenches again, so painfully.

He tries to search for the others but they are nowhere to be seen. He breathes before trying to pass through the badly damaged door, that has diminished considerably. The vision outside was just as horrifying. There’s almost four more cars crashed and a bunch of people around dead bodies lying on the floor. There’s no ambulances yet or even the police. When his feet cross two patches of asphalt he can’t hold himself up anymore so he falls, hands and knees, on the ground. He stays like that before having someone hunched over him mouthing something he can’t hear. It's like his brain has shut down. The person repeats and keeps pushing on his shoulder until Yifan manages to kneel up and try to look the sober possible.

“Is anyone else alive?” The man says but no sound comes out, yet Yifan understood. He can’t answer. He doesn’t want to answer. He doesn’t want this to be real. He wants it all to be a horrible, horrifying nightmare that will end with his annoying alarm.

He lifts a finger.

One.

The last thing he remembers was darkness before waking up in a hospital bed. He feels out of place and panic rises from him sturdily and he can see a couple of people fuzz around him as he fights the tubes attached to him and tries to get out of the bed. He gets hold down by two men until he feels a sudden feel of calmness rush through him and drift him to sleep again.

He only wakes up again hours after and feeling less agitated, his body responding a lot belated from his brain’s commands. When he was well enough to be discharged they brought him to a room with a person inside. At first he thought it was the police but then he figured it could be a psychiatrist. He wasn’t really debating. He didn’t want to be in there anyway.

“How are you feeling?” The man asks softly.

“Sedated.” He answers, his voice hoarse and cold. The man hums.

“You’ll have to be accompanied by a couple more specialists so I heard.” Yifan figures he isn’t a psychiatrist after all but he doesn’t bother to ask anyway, he isn’t interested.

“Hum.” Yifan drones in dullness.

“I believe you’ll recover quickly. It’s only a matter of time. Small, I hope.” Yifan starts to drown out the man’s talking until he catches the last sentence and a sudden feeling he never thought he could feel ran through him. “After that you’ll have to answer a couple questions from the media and-”

“My friends are dead.” He murmurs blankly interrupting the man. He looks up at Yifan and blinks in question.

“Excuse-”

“My friends are dead.” He says louder.

“Yifan-”

“My friends are dead!!” Anger feels him. He gets up making his chair fall backwards. He bangs his hands on the table in front of him and leans. “MY FRIENDS ARE DEAD!!” He screams full lungs startling the man before him. “MY FRIENDS ARE ALL DEAD. THEY’RE DEAD.” He grabs a couple sheets that were on the table, gripping them tightly. “THEY’RE ING DEAD!! AND YOU WANT ME TO ING WORRY ABOUT THE ING MEDIA!!!??” He starts to rip the papers out, tossing them in every direction he can. He was almost set to lift the table when he was held by the arms by a couple guards.

*

Kris isn’t sure how he told the story without crying but he held it together if not for the sake of looking the least bit like a man.

“What do you feel towards your new manager?”

“I want to kill him.” He answers nonchalantly.

“I understand. How do you usually get your anger off when you feel that way?” Kris is starting to get tired from listening to the questions. It’s almost making him sleepy.

“I do nothing. I yell and I drink.” The woman shoots him a look.

“Aren’t you taking medication?”

“I was until the doctor thought I was getting addicted.”

“He did well. It might have ended badly.”

“If you say so. He deserves a pat on the head then.”

“I hope you understand that we’re all here to help you Kris.” Kris flinches at his stage name. She was probably the only one using it and Kris is sure that’s not what his file says.

“You all say the same. Only you don’t realize that you can’t help me.” He chuckles softly covering for a sob before continuing. “They ar-were my brothers.” He breathes out shakily. “They were my life and they were taken away from me in only a couple seconds. I saw them dead in front of me and I still had to find the strength and find a way out to save myself and Chanyeol. I had to bury them, one by one. I was there in each funeral by their families sides. One by one. Body by body. Trying to fight the tears to be the stronger one.” He couldn’t fight his tears now. They rolled down his cheek without him noticing. “I lost my brothers. I lost my family, part of my soul and you expect me to get better?” He chokes down. His chest is starting to hurt again. “I will never get better.” His lips tremble. “I will never be better. They will always be dead.” His eyes have become blurry from the tears. The woman keeps quiet intensively looking at him. “I can’t even keep Chanyeol safe. I can barely keep him alive. I can barely keep myself alive.” He looks down and cries for a few moments. The woman remains silent. “I don’t want to be alive.”

---

The next morning Kris fought the urge to take the whole bottle of pills and swallowed two dry, right after cleaning up and getting mild food on his stomach, because the doctor had ordered him to take the pills after eating and that he’d preferably stood away from alcohol. He obeyed conflicted with the swirl of emotions he feels each minute that make him want to make all the wrong decisions. Made it through for this morning so he feels a slight verge of optimism. It’s all for the sake of Chanyeol. He needs to keep him well. He needs to keep him safe.

Kris breathes as he makes a toast for Chanyeol. Hopefully he’ll get him to eat. Hopefully.

When he reaches Chanyeol’s room he opens the door with his elbow and makes his way in. It surprises him when he doesn’t see Chanyeol seated on the bed like usual but he takes that as a good sign. He settles the tray down on the table and gives the room a quick search but Chanyeol isn’t in there. Kris wonders if Chanyeol decided to leave the house. He was about to go out when he remembers he forgot to check the bathroom.

He opens the door.

Cold hits him. He can’t move. He feels all the strength leave him at once, the floor seems like it’s running away from beneath him, and he stumbles back, falling behind.

His eyes are trained on the sight before him. His heart is racing but Kris doesn’t feel anything. He doesn’t feel ache or panic. He feels blurred out. He feels numb. As if life ran out of him. His soul shattered to the last thread.

It takes him, he doesn’t count, an insane amount of time before he could pull himself up. His legs were trembling and his hands were just as shaky as he called an ambulance. His voice betrayed him sounding weak and hoarse. He sat on the bed and lost track of time between the call and their arrive. He didn’t go back to the bathroom until they got there. He couldn’t handle it. He couldn’t even react or move from his place. The paramedics shook him and asked him questions he just ignored. He wanted to cry but couldn’t, his eyes were fastened on the vision outside the window, Chanyeol so loved to admire, dry and heavy. He wanted to scream and run and hit someone and just react but all he felt was emptiness.

The paramedics left, eventually, giving up on getting anything through him. The last paramedic put a hand on his shoulder as he handed something to him but he didn’t reached to grab it. The man left the piece of paper on the bed next to him and after that he was left alone.

Dread silence settled in. Kris couldn’t take his eyes off the window. Like he found some deeper meaning written in the sky and maybe then he understood what Chanyeol was going through.

Pure emptiness.

He was completely alone. There was nothing more he could fight for. Nothing more. Absolutely nothing.

---

“Hyung, I know you worry about me but I’m doing well. I’m going to be fine.  Hyung took good care of me. Don’t miss me a lot. I love you very very much hyung.”

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I just want to say here that I'm not at all familiar with how depression works or develops and that all the feelings and symptoms described are based on research.

Thanks for reading ^^ <3