we the cursed, nct dream ✔

part sixty-six

It's been an hour. The plane to take everybody home has been called and is perched awkwardly on top of the grassy area just behind the shore, and most students are already on board, but Jaemin's friends wait anxiously with him for news from the fire department, who'd arrived as quickly as possible. There is no more smoke coming from the school, and the air is deceptively still and quiet.

Jaemin stands with Jeno's arm around him, but his face is angled downward, fingers squeezed tightly as he inwardly blames himself again and again for letting his brother stay. For failing to recognize what Jaeyoon had been planning.

Because Jaeyoon might be gone forever, and it's all Jaemin's fault. Or so he believes.

Everyone waiting on the grass near the plane straightens as a few firefighters let themselves up through the manhole. Their eyes immediately find those of their cop colleagues, and their gazes are enough to tell Jaemin everything he needs to know.

"Sorry." One fireman shakes his head sadly. "Nobody survived. The flames had already done too much damage before we got there, so there was almost no hope."

Jaemin can't breathe.

There are more firefighters here now, and more police, too. After getting a glimpse into the school and realizing that yes, it did in fact exist, Taeyong and Yiran had called down more authorities. The shore and grass teem with law enforcement officers, pilots, detectives, and even a few paramedics, whose services won't be utilized after all. Many of these people will stay back to investigate what is left of the school; to finally put visual representations to the craziness they have heard about.

By now, parents have been called. They needed to be, because the plane ride back to the city is about an hour, and though not every single student's final destination is Seoul, the majority's are, so pick-ups must be ready.

Needless to say, most of those calls didn't go very well. And because the parents must know and do know, news outlets are already picking up on what might be the juiciest story of the year, so the cops in charge are also gearing up for the inevitable press conference they will need to hold.

The professionals turn to each other to talk, decide what should be done. "We're sorry about Jaeyoon," Renjun says quietly to his friend.

Jaemin's eyes are dry. He can't cry. His throat is dry, too. "Thanks," he croaks.

"Seriously, though?" Chenle sputters in disbelief, voice low and serious. "This is how it ends? Everybody just fucking dies? Then who the fuck is supposed to take responsibility?"

Jisung tries to calm him down. "Come on, it's-"

"No." Chenle wrenches his arm from Jisung's grasp. "All those fucked up people shouldn't get to die. That's not how this was supposed to go. How are we supposed to get any closure now?" After months, after years, he's finally breaking down. "We don't get any apologies or anything; they're just gone? What the fuck?"

"Chenle," Juno speaks calmly, going over to wrap him into a hug, "I know this is going to take time to accept. Maybe it messed us all up so much that we'll never really manage to accept it. And it's not fair; none of this is, but we can try to be here for Jaemin right now."

Chenle doesn't speak for a moment. "I'm sorry," he mumbles eventually. "Your brother just died. I should've been more sensitive."

"Don't apologize," Jaemin sighs. "I understand."

They form a protective circle around him, imparting comfort through their presence but saying nothing. Jaemin realizes that he does want to cry, not from his brother's sudden death, but from the warmth these people are giving him, figuratively and otherwise. And them it makes him almost want to laugh, because why can't he cry for Jaeyoon? Who had left. Then returned. Then left again. Then returned.