Ship/Member: seungcheol & vernon Major Tags: MCD!!!!!!! Additional Tags: funerals, survivors guilt, implied suicidal ideation Permission to remix: Please ask
***
The fact that it ends up the two of them is….well. Vernon doesn’t really have the words for it.
He and Seungcheol had been out on schedules at the same time without the others. The label wanted them to work on a song together. Typical.
Everyone else had been at the dorm. There was a wiring issue, the managers had told them later. Something installed incorrectly, left on for too long. Vernon isn’t sure. He can’t remember much besides the charred out skeleton of the dorm building. Hot and fast, was what a fireman said. It burned hot and fast.
*
The cloying smell of new leather seats makes Vernon sick. The car feels like it’s inching forward in traffic and Vernon’s seatbelt digs into his neck. Seungcheol sits next to him, fists clenched on his thighs and looking pale. He’s looked pale for the past week.
Vernon has no idea what he looks like. He’s avoided all the mirrors.
They put them up in a hotel, even though they both have their own apartments. It’s for their safety, or something, so paparazzi and journalists don’t camp outside and harass them. Their rooms have a door that conjoins them. Vernon can hear Seungcheol sobbing through it at night.
*
This is the fifth funeral of the week. The company floated the idea of a joint operation — eleven funerals seemed like too much, even more so considering everyone would be cremated. The idea of eleven urns all in a row with everyone’s families standing at the front at the same time felt a little too ridiculous.
Jeonghan was first. Then Soonyoung. Jihoon, Wonwoo. Today is Joshua. Tomorrow, Mingyu.
Seungcheol hasn’t looked anywhere except down at his feet or somewhere at the back of the room. Vernon isn’t sure he’s completely there, to be honest. He hasn’t looked a single person in the eye, just slightly bows his head as the next person comes up to bow to them.
That feels weird, too. Wrong. Were they family? It felt like it felt like it sometimes. All of the time.
Vernon grabs Seungcheol’s hand. He doesn’t let go.
*
“I’m sorry,” Seungcheol says in the car a few days later. It’s Seungkwan’s ceremony today, and Vernon feels disconnected from every single part of his body. It’s like he’s somewhere beside himself, floating, watching. But when he talks, his body makes the sound.
“For what?” he asks. Seungcheol squeezes his hand. Vernon isn’t sure when he grabbed it. He isn’t sure he ever let go.
“I should have — We should have come back when you wanted to.”
Vernon blinks, considers. He must mean the night of the fire. Seungkwan had messaged him about dinner, saying they were all ordering and didn’t they want to join? Seungcheol had been antsy, though, wanted to nail down a verse so Vernon told them to go on. His last message from Seungkwan is just “ok” and a heart emoji.
The car brakes. Vernon slams back into his body.
“Hyung,” he says, startled at how close his own voice sounds. “If we had gone back…”
Seungcheol won’t look at him.
“Do you think we could have saved them?” he asks. The thought is wretched, something Vernon hasn’t yet considered. Could they have done anything?
“No,” Seungcheol says, staring out the window. “Probably not.”
[FILL] may it rise to meet your feet
Major Tags: MCD!!!!!!!
Additional Tags: funerals, survivors guilt, implied suicidal ideation
Permission to remix: Please ask
***
The fact that it ends up the two of them is….well. Vernon doesn’t really have the words for it.
He and Seungcheol had been out on schedules at the same time without the others. The label wanted them to work on a song together. Typical.
Everyone else had been at the dorm. There was a wiring issue, the managers had told them later. Something installed incorrectly, left on for too long. Vernon isn’t sure. He can’t remember much besides the charred out skeleton of the dorm building. Hot and fast, was what a fireman said. It burned hot and fast.
*
The cloying smell of new leather seats makes Vernon sick. The car feels like it’s inching forward in traffic and Vernon’s seatbelt digs into his neck. Seungcheol sits next to him, fists clenched on his thighs and looking pale. He’s looked pale for the past week.
Vernon has no idea what he looks like. He’s avoided all the mirrors.
They put them up in a hotel, even though they both have their own apartments. It’s for their safety, or something, so paparazzi and journalists don’t camp outside and harass them. Their rooms have a door that conjoins them. Vernon can hear Seungcheol sobbing through it at night.
*
This is the fifth funeral of the week. The company floated the idea of a joint operation — eleven funerals seemed like too much, even more so considering everyone would be cremated. The idea of eleven urns all in a row with everyone’s families standing at the front at the same time felt a little too ridiculous.
Jeonghan was first. Then Soonyoung. Jihoon, Wonwoo. Today is Joshua. Tomorrow, Mingyu.
Seungcheol hasn’t looked anywhere except down at his feet or somewhere at the back of the room. Vernon isn’t sure he’s completely there, to be honest. He hasn’t looked a single person in the eye, just slightly bows his head as the next person comes up to bow to them.
That feels weird, too. Wrong. Were they family? It felt like it felt like it sometimes. All of the time.
Vernon grabs Seungcheol’s hand. He doesn’t let go.
*
“I’m sorry,” Seungcheol says in the car a few days later. It’s Seungkwan’s ceremony today, and Vernon feels disconnected from every single part of his body. It’s like he’s somewhere beside himself, floating, watching. But when he talks, his body makes the sound.
“For what?” he asks. Seungcheol squeezes his hand. Vernon isn’t sure when he grabbed it. He isn’t sure he ever let go.
“I should have — We should have come back when you wanted to.”
Vernon blinks, considers. He must mean the night of the fire. Seungkwan had messaged him about dinner, saying they were all ordering and didn’t they want to join? Seungcheol had been antsy, though, wanted to nail down a verse so Vernon told them to go on. His last message from Seungkwan is just “ok” and a heart emoji.
The car brakes. Vernon slams back into his body.
“Hyung,” he says, startled at how close his own voice sounds. “If we had gone back…”
Seungcheol won’t look at him.
“Do you think we could have saved them?” he asks. The thought is wretched, something Vernon hasn’t yet considered. Could they have done anything?
“No,” Seungcheol says, staring out the window. “Probably not.”
Vernon doesn’t ask what he means. He knows.
The car starts moving again.