Chapter Text
it's been too long, he thinks, since he last talked to mark. a visit every week has since turned to every other week, to once or twice a month, to once a month, every other month. the path towards mark's makeshift grave is overgrown now; vibrant spring greenery blossoming without a care in the world, unaware of the loose ends resting just beyond.
donghyuck feels guilty as he approaches the clearing - at this point he doesn't actually remember how long it's been since his last visit, only that it's been long enough for the trees to lose their leaves, long enough for snow to have blanketed the forest and then melted, long enough for new flowers to have bloomed all around, dotting the woods and decorating around the tall stone tower he'd built at some point as mark's grave marker. when he'd made it, he told himself he needed something solid to see - an actual point of reference for where he should project his voice to when he spoke. so far it's made him feel less like he's talking to the empty air, and more like he's talking to a figure he can pretend is his best friend.
though, things have changed since the last time donghyuck had come. after jaemin's arrival, donghyuck found himself able to stomach life once more - within a month or so, he was back on supply runs, although significantly more paranoid than he used to be. his trips are always successful. taeyong made donghyuck a party leader six months after jaemin joined them - that was probably a few months ago at this point, too. it's been a while since he last talked to mark.
sitting by the stack of stones felt foreign after so long, but not foreign enough for donghyuck to do anything else. he presses his lips in a thin line before heaving a loaded sigh and leaning over to rest against the rocks.
"mark..." his voice wavers when he begins. "it's been a bit, hasn't it?"
he doesn't wait for an answer. he doesn't expect one.
"i'm really tired lately," he admits next, guilt pooling in his gut. he shouldn't feel so tired. he feels like he doesn't do enough for warrant fatigue. "but things have been going smoothly. mostly."
there's a pause while hyuck gathers his thoughts; he isn't sure where to start.
"johnny and jaehyun are... apart," he says, trying to choose his words carefully, as if they'd hurt someone listening. "it's made the entire camp tense. they're obviously unhappy being apart from one another, but they... they still fight a lot. about you. it might be over something stupid like a piece of rotten fruit, but we all know it's about you. johnny hates himself for failing you. jaehyun hates himself for losing his family again."
a pleasant spring breeze blows through the clearing. donghyuck's eyes dart to his left upon hearing a rustling that proves to be inconsequential.
"jaehyun's taken to staying in our room with jaemin. johnny... tries to keep me in his line of sight all the time, now. he's scared, but he doesn't say it out loud. he feels like he's lost everything but me, even though jaehyun is right down the hall. they're pining. it's a little ridiculous for a couple of almost six years, don't you think?"
the burning starts in the back of hyuck's throat, signalling the onset of tears that would probably benefit him at this point. taeyong has told him a few times that he's emotionally constipated, like something's stopped all his emotional releases and his feelings have just festered like an open wound. the elder insists letting out his emotions will make hyuck feel better, but it doesn't feel so easy. he clears his throat.
"jaemin..."
he pauses and closes his eyes as the breeze picks up briefly, blowing through his too-long hair before settling down once more. jaemin is a topic he isn't sure how to begin with. he can feel the tears gathering along his waterline.
"he's nice. he likes me." hyuck's words feel almost forced, choppy, like a petulant child who doesn't want to admit to making a mistake. "he kissed me yesterday."
there's another rustle, this time to his right, and he nearly jumps out of his skin when a rabbit bounces into the clearing. for a moment, he considers catching it - his knife is in his pocket and he's sure kun wouldn't say no to fresh meat for dinner. in the end, the rabbit hops away unscathed.
"it wasn't unpleasant," he continues, voice lowering almost to a whisper. "and i hate that afterwards i thought about you, about how jaemin can kiss me with that stupid grin on his face but i couldn't tell you i loved you until you were basically dead in front of me. if i had told you years ago, would you have kissed me the same way...?"
hyuck bites into his bottom lip, brow furrowing. he pokes absently at the dirt in front of him, drawing nonsense shapes.
"i guess we'll never know, huh?" he lets out a little laugh, and that's when the tears start falling. "we'll never know."
he spends a pretty good amount of time sobbing into his hands, sitting on the forest floor. it's more noise than he should probably be making, but he's too gone to care in the moment. if something came and got him, well it'd just be poetic justice, wouldn't it? him dying in the same place mark died trying to protect him. irony at it's finest. it's mid-afternoon by the time he calms himself once more.
"i think i like him too," he whispers, like he's telling a secret. "is that... bad? i feel like i'm betraying you by accepting it, but he makes me happy."
there's a pause. this time he wishes there would be an answer. it'd just be easier if mark would tell him it's cruel, it's unfair to him, but donghyuck doesn't even know if mark felt the same way, or if he just saw donghyuck as his best friend - maybe his brother. hyuck has never been sure. they never crossed that line.
"i miss you so much. every day." he exhales shakily. "i know jaehyun and johnny do, too. i hate seeing them fight, because i know it's my fault, y'know?"
somehow, just to spite him, his body manages to push a few more tears from his eyes. they trail slowly down his cheeks.
"you're dead and it's my fault, and they're suffering because of it, but they still smile at me. they still go out of their way to make sure i'm okay, but they have to know it's my fault, right? they have to. sometimes i wish you'd just let me die instead, so you guys could have stayed a happy family."
"don't say that."
when the voice comes from behind donghyuck, he pushes himself forward, trying to fling himself as far from the unexpected response as possible. he doesn't get far, of course - only managing to push himself a few feet forward in the dirt before turning and drawing his knife with shaky hands to point it towards whoever is there. he doesn't expect to see it's johnny.
"please." johnny's voice cracks on the last syllable and, after a moment of inspection, donghyuck can see the elder's eyes are glossy and red-rimmed from crying. "we don't blame you. not even a little. we never have."
the breeze blows between them and neither make an effort to move.
"you didn't..." johnny pauses, biting his bottom lip and glancing away, blinking furiously as if trying to rid himself of more tears. "you didn't tell anyone you were leaving."
that pool of guilt, stagnant in hyuck's stomach, springs to life once more, filling exponentially. he thinks it might suffocate him.
"please, donghyuck--" johnny's lip quivers, and the following sigh he lets out is heavy with sadness and frustration. it's so sorrow-laden that hyuck feels his eyes water again. this isn't what he intended. "i thought--we thought--"
johnny's voice cuts off with a sob and he sinks to his knees on the forest floor, resting his weight back on his calves and just staring at the younger boy. donghyuck drops his knife and lets it hit the ground with a dull thud. slowly, he crawls his way back over to johnny and flings his arms around the elder's neck, pulling him into a tight embrace that's returned with no hesitation.
"i'm sorry. i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm so sorry," hyuck says, over and over, repeating it like a mantra. he never said it before - not to johnny, not about this.
they hold each other and cry for a moment before johnny leans back to look hyuck in the eyes. he raises a hand to wipe at the now dry tear streaks on hyuck's face, and he shakes his head. "he wouldn't want this. he loved you. he would want you to be happy."
"he'd want you to be happy too," hyuck retorts with a sad laugh. "you and jaehyun both."
there's a slight pause before johnny nods. "we... we've been working on it. it's in the works. we're getting there. it's just gonna take us a minute to..." he makes a vague gesture with his hand. "...heal, i guess."
hyuck doesn't know what to say. there's a sense of relief that the older boys are working out their problems, but there's still something heavy weighing on him. he doesn't know what to do.
"do you want to head back?" johnny asks, voice soft. "or do you want to spend more time here? i'm sorry i interrupted in the first place."
still, hyuck doesn't know what to say. he opens and closes his mouth a few times, before taking a breath to steady himself. "i--"
beside them, the stone tower - mark's marker - falls. the action is abrupt enough to startle both of them, and hyuck stares at the pile of rocks with wide eyes. there was no reason for it to fall. it was structurally sound enough for him to lean his body against it and have it not move, and yet... it's crumbled. the next breath hyuck takes feels like a rush of something new.
it's okay to move on.
he turns his attention back to johnny, who is also staring at the rocks with surprised eyes. "johnny."
the elder looks at him, brows furrowed, and hyuck stands once more, grabbing johnny's wrists and pulling them slightly to encourage him to join.
"let's go home," he says with a soft smile.
johnny only nods, rising to his full height before ruffling donghyuck's hair like he used to all the time almost two years ago, before mark died, before the world burned. some things don't have to change.
"let's go home, hyuck."