.

"Hey Jeongguk," Sae whispered, taking Jeongguk's hands in hers while the other lovingly stroked his hair behind his ear. "I hope you're hanging in there."

He didn't reply, unable to squeeze her hand. Sae quieted him down, even though he didn't make a noise. She adjusted the blanket over his chest, the smile she wore breaking apart as Jeongguk's labored breaths were strained. She watched him suck for air, only to squeeze his hand tighter.

"You're okay," Sae said, watching as Jeongguk's face crumpled with pain before a few seconds passed and the creases slowly eased. "You're alright, k-kiddo. The hospice nurse just came by to give you something t-to feel b-better."

The entire room was dark, for the curtains were drawn shut, and the lights were off. Sae kept it like that on purpose, knowing Jeongguk preferred it that way. She made sure nothing would disturb him. All you could really hear was the nearly inaudible hiss of his ventillator, Sae's gentle sniffles, and the occasional hum of Jeongguk's vitals machine monitoring his weakening heartbeat.

Around the room were flowers and gifts. Sae only brought them in now that Jeongguk was in the final stages. He made a huge fuss about gifts, saying they were out of pity, but she knew she couldn't throw them away. Even though most of them were from relatives they haven't heard from in a long time, she couldn't do that.

Especially when the others were from the hospital staff and some of The Buddy Program members who dropped by to say their goodbyes earlier that day.

"You know," She stroked his knuckles carefully, tilting her head back to relieve some of the pressure behind her eyes. "I'm not as prepared as I told myself. I-I made sure to separate my feelings for so long so I could oversee your case, but now? I-I'm just here to be your aunt, Gguks."

"I remember when I first got you," She shook her head, hair falling over her eyes as her shoulders trembled. She swallowed thickly, voice cracking as she said, "I was so stressed and distant. I didn't want kids. I wasn't interested in any of that."

"But you?" She smiled, kissing his wrist. "I changed my mind. You changed my mind. When things got less chaotic, I learned to appreciate you a-around my house."

"The house will be so empty," Sae blinked back searing hot tears. "I c-complain about picking up your damn laundry and you escaping at night to go God knows where. I r-remember shouting at you to stop vaping out your window! I don't think I'll really miss that but," She sniffled again.

"I'll miss talking to you. Hearing your voice. Laughing at your jokes and your insults about my vegetarian cooking." She slumped forward, pressing her face into the palm of his hand. "It'll b-be so hard to live without you."

"But you can stop fighting now. I'm so proud of you for trying, and it was a pleasure," Sae let her tears fall freely, fall onto Jeongguk's cold palm. "A p-pleasure to be your parent. You're my kid, Gguks."

"I can't imagine you being anything other than my kid."

"Am I disturbing something?" Sae whipped her head toward the door to see Namjoon. She shook her head, wiping the tears away with the back of her hand. He approached her slowly, snaking his hands into the pockets of his black slacks.

"Did the hospice nurse come by?" He didn't finish his sentence as he pulled a chair next to her.

"Yep," Sae pressed her lips to Jeongguk's knuckles once again, her words muffled by his hand. "She gave him a dose of morphine a bit ago and it kicked in. At least he'll finally be comfortable passing today."

"It could...," Her words drifted off before she added in a tiny voice, "be any second now."

"Total organ failure, right?" Namjoon murmured, hooded eyes scanning the room filled with all kinds of medical equipment. She hummed.

"And they still haven't found a cure for what he has?"

"There was a case study," Sae admitted quietly, her chest heavy as she confessed the truth she withheld for months now. There was no point keeping it anymore. It was already too late, and it wasn't like it was going to change much.

She hung her head low, sealing her eyes shut to get a grip of herself. "A doctor in the States had a similar case, and h-he wanted to do a clinical trial."

"Did you tell Jeongguk?" She shook her head.

"He wouldn't have made the flight by the time I got the call," Sae opened her eyes to see Namjoon was staring down at her. "Plus I wouldn't want to put him through anymore hell. Clinical trials aren't easy." She added, gesturing at his peacefully sleeping body wrapped in blankets.

"That must have been an extremely tough decision," Namjoon said.

"Very," She nodded, licking her lips. "B-but it was the r-right medical decision."

"You did the best you could, Sae," He reached over and wrapped his arm around her. He squeezed her shoulder tenderly, letting Sae rest her head in the crook of his neck. "It wasn't your fault."

"I know," Sae hummed, tasting salt on her tongue as her cheeks were stained with tears. "I told myself, maybe if I caught it earlier, we would have been more prepared."

"You know that isn't true."

"I know," She pulled away from him, gaze fixed on her dying kid. She wearily eyed his heart monitor, watching it steadily rise and fall. "He wouldn't want me beating myself up."

"It'll be hard but you have your staff. You have me," Namjoon whispered. He took her free hand into his, interlacing their fingers tightly. Sae glanced down at their hands, her bottom lip quivering as the tears in her eyes wouldn't stop flowing.

"Thank you," She said, but before she could finish her sentence, she shot up in her seat watching his heart monitor crash. Sae swore her breath was knocked out of her lungs in that moment. She freed her hand from Namjoon's and clamped it over her mouth, a pained, strangled sob muffled behind her hand as she watched him crash.

She couldn't even hear herself cry over the rapid alarm blaring from Jeongguk's monitor. It was like everything happened in a blur. Jeongguk dying. The hospice doctor coming in to pull his plug.

Namjoon gently placed his hands on her shoulders, watching somberly as Sae hunched over and violently sobbed. She shook her head vigorously as Jeongguk's hand grew limp in her grasp and she knew she couldn't save him.

She was a goddamn doctor, and yet she couldn't save him.

"It'll be alright," Namjoon squeezed her shoulders, tears of his own rimming his eyes. When he was finally gone and all the machines were finally turned off, Namjoon tugged her gently toward him.

"He'll be okay now." He rubbed his hand up and down her back, letting her sob onto his black button-up. She buried her face into his neck, repeating "no" over and over as her cries wrecked her small body. Namjoon held her tighter, knowing very well himself that no words could ever soothe the pain of losing someone you loved.

The next day, Jeongguk rolled past the empty hallways. It was early, a bit too early, but everyone was at the meeting room. He got a text from Jimin earlier this morning, telling him to come to the hospital, and he did. Originally, he planned to stay home and watch the last few movies he could and eat junk even though he was probably going to vomit all that out, but Jimin's message shocked him.

Or well, it confused him. It was a strange message, and it almost seemed like a silly prank, but he didn't know how to feel when he entered the hospital that day. Something was off. Dreadfully off, and the greyness of that morning followed him.

When he entered the meeting room, the atmosphere was suffocating. He scanned the room, brows furrowed when he noticed Namjoon wasn't there.

"Is it true?" He remembered the words leaving his mouth that morning, but he couldn't recall hearing his voice. He could feel his lips moving, and his breath hitched in his throat but that was it.

Hoseok, Sooha, and Yoongi were crowded around Jimin. He looked like a wreck. All of them did. But Jimin looked shattered. His eyes were red and puffy, cheeks still fresh with glistening tears. Jeongguk didn't like the feeling of this. His stomach stirred uncomfortably as Jimin's gaze met his.

He jogged up to him, shaking his head before stopping in front of him. He brought his hands up to his face, a silent sob ripping out of his throat as his entire body trembled. Jeongguk glanced up at him, repeating "is it true" as his head began to spin.

Jimin nodded, and god, he swore he was just messing with him. He had to be. There was no way that—

"I-It's true."

"What? W-what happened?" Jeongguk questioned, trying to get a better look at everyone's faces. All of them were somber, refusing to meet his eye. "Y-you're kidding." His voice wavered.

Jimin shook his head and joined his side. He leaned down, cupping Jeongguk's ear as he explained the entire story from beginning to end, unaware of how Jeongguk's entire stomach dropped. A wave of nausea crashed over him, his hands falling limp over the wheels he gripped so hard he could feel the indent of the metal on his palms.

The rest of the day passed like a blur. Like a nasty nightmare he couldn't really escape.

The news of Kim Taehyung dying that morning spread around like a wildfire. And as much as Jeongguk wished he didn't know the details, Jimin's words repeated in his mind like a broken record, endlessly reminding him of a truth he couldn't even bring himself to accept.

Taehyung was at the dormitory with Seokjin last night, and everything was fine. They were even drinking, and apparently Taehyung felt sick so he told Jin he was going to sleep early, and he did. Jin didn't think much of it and went to bed a few hours after, but in the morning...

Taehyung never woke up.

Seokjin didn't realize it, seeing that Taehyung was the type who usually slept in. Sometimes he ditched class, but there was this exam, and he never missed exams. So Seokjin went into his room, only to find out that he wasn't breathing.

His cardiology doctor said it was a pacemaker failure. Some nasty infection in his heart from his last replacement surgery caused it to malfunction over night, and it was too much for him the last few weeks.

Fuck. This wasn't supposed to happen. He was healthy, so healthy. The chances were low and all of this could have been prevented if only they caught it sooner. And yet it happened. It still happened.

He was no longer there, no longer alive. He was gone, just like that, and he didn't even get to say goodbye. Nobody got to say goodbye. Not his parents. Not his friends. Not his own brothers.

Kim Taehyung died.

And Jeongguk didn't even get to say goodbye.

Throughout the day, he didn't really notice that he was crying. They all sat in the meeting room in silence. Occasionally someone would sniffle or break into a fit of sobs in the darkness. Sometimes someone would talk about Taehyung and laugh, but the laughter was always half-hearted— a factor of coping, of remembering the good, the bad, and the silly parts of him.

It wasn't until Namjoon and Sae entered the room did everyone rise to their feet and give him hugs. The silence was deafening. Sae immediately went over to Jeongguk and scooped him into her arms, crushing him into a tight hug as Jeongguk laid his head on her shoulder.

He bit down roughly on his trembling lip, shaking his head as his eyes glossed over. He dug his fingers into Sae's back, the tears falling out of his eyes without any warning.

He cried a lot that day. He couldn't remember most of it except the feeling of his heart being wrenched out of his chest, and that was probably it. Nothing else felt real enough to properly experience.

The thing about someone dying without a goodbye, there wasn't closure. The things you said to them the day before were the last things you were going to say to them. If you didn't tell them you loved them or got into some petty fight, that was the last time that person would remember you by.

Jeongguk spent so much time worrying about his death, he couldn't even imagine that Taehyung would be the one to die first.

And that— that hurt. It hurt so bad that the pain was simply indescribable. It ached but at the same time, everything felt numb. There wasn't any way to really brace yourself for their death because it wasn't supposed to happen. Someone like Taehyung shouldn't have died. He had so much to live for.

He had so many tomorrows, but now? He didn't.

You see, Jeongguk didn't like promises. Taehyung knew that. But he believed him when he said "until tomorrow" because it always ended up being true. He would see him the next day with that irritating grin, and he would start some dumb argument with him before the two would head into the meeting room. Jeongguk favored his tomorrows as long as Taehyung was in them. But now?

God, how he wished he would walk through the door and say it was all some cruel joke. He knew he would hug everyone and take their punches and nasty glares. And when he approached Jeongguk, he would gently wipe away his tears and tell him that he promised. He promised he would see him because no tomorrow would be complete without Kim Taehyung.

But there was no chance Taehyung would come in through that door.

Jeongguk knew that. And as much as it hurt, everyone else knew that too.

The day after Taehyung died, Jeongguk couldn't comprehend time. Hours passed in meaningless blurs. Minutes were insignificant because time didn't feel right without Kim Taehyung.

His eyes stung and were red and puffy from crying to no end. Everytime the thought crossed his mind, he swore he was okay until his shoulders began to cave in and silent sobs wrecked through his body as he covered his face with trembling hands.

He wasn't okay, and he wasn't sure if he would ever be.

At the meeting room in the hospital, there was a candle on Taehyung's chair and some flowers. He noticed there were a lot of crowds of people coming in and out. Sae explained to him that they were all the friends and relatives that knew Taehyung. And it was then did Jeongguk realize how the impact of Taehyung's death reached beyond the world of their hospital.

He must've mattered to a lot of people. Groups of friends, family members, and even the staff came into the meeting room to leave him something. He was really popular, even until his death, and he supposed that Taehyung was a meaningful part of everyone's life: including his own.

At one point, he even saw Haewon enter the room and came out sobbing into her palms. He wondered if she regretted doing what she did. If she thought about the "what-ifs" and "should-haves" just like he did. If she ever regretted hurting someone that deserved so much love.

When Jeongguk finally mustered enough courage to enter the meeting room with Sae, he held his breath in the entire time. The single candle on Taehyung's chair was ablaze, the tiny flame dancing in the darkness, illuminating his empty seat with a hazey yellow. But Jeongguk didn't break down until he looked up at the window in front of him.

It was filled with letters taped to the window. Outside was a murky gray, but with all the colored notes, the light pouring into the room was a faint purple. He glanced over at the fold-up table with a stack of the same paper, tape, and some pens waiting for him.

He rolled himself over, gritting his teeth as his arms began to ache but none of that mattered right now. Sae stood behind like he told her too, watching him with saddened eyes.

He uncapped one of the pens and took a sheet of his own. He swallowed thickly, eyes glossing over but nothing came out as he hunched over his note and began to scribble his thoughts down on paper. He poured his heart into that note, uneven breath trembling in his throat as his hands began to shake. He shook his head, writing and writing until the joints in his hands burned.

He hated being selfish as he finished his note and signed off his name, but he couldn't help it. Couldn't help how all his pained thoughts, the glimpse of heartbreak, and the unanswered questions Taehyung left him with surged to the forefront of his dazed mind.

It was supposed to be a day remembering him, and yet he was crying all over again because he would never get what he wanted so badly: closure.

He would never understand what Taehyung was thinking. Why Taehyung left him. If Taehyung truly liked him the way he did. If this was some cruel joke. If Taehyung knew he was going to leave him behind all along. He would never get to talk to him ever again, and the conversation he promised would never happen. Fuck, he couldn't even remember his voice; his face.

It all hurt. Everything hurt. Taehyung dying. Having no closure. But that was life, right?