27: Blame

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"What do you mean by 'he won't wake up?'"

It's a little crazy, how your heart beat almost stops at the thought of Jungkook lying still and cold, his chest an unmoving curve.

He can't be dead.

Surely he didn't lose that much blood. Surely he didn't get that cold.

But your mind insists on running through all of the possible ways that he surely could have perished in that free fall.

Anywhere from hitting his head too hard on one of the branches to landing at the wrong angle on his back or neck could be reasons for a fatality. You just can't believe that someone so young and vivacious and alive could disappear so quickly from this life.

Jimin has trails of tears leaking down his face now, and it seems that his anger has diminished with the approach of sadness.

"He's alive," says the weeping man. "But he won't wake up. He's unconscious. He's in a coma."

Your chest fills with a mixed sense of relief and horror at the words. He's alive, and you're glad for that, but a coma?

If he never wakes up, if Jungkook turns into simply a body without a soul inside to live...

That seems like a fate worse than death.

"I didn't push him," you say quietly.

Immediately, Jimin slams his fist into the wall, roaring, "Is that what matters to you right now? Defending yourself?"

After the words flow out of him, he seems to cave in on himself, like all of the support has fled his body.

Speechless, you can only sit there.

What else can you say?

You're just trying to tell him the truth after he assumed incorrectly. You're glad that Jungkook's alive, and sad that he's in the condition he's in, but you also can't be falsely accused of something you're innocent of.

Most likely being attracted by the loud noise of Jimin's anguish, Jin appears at the door. He's dressed in dark colors, a brown sweater and black jeans, and his hair is a nest of fluffed up hair.

When the oldest sees Jimin's tears, his eyes crease in sadness. "Come here," says Jin, and Jimin flees into the security of his arms. They embrace for a long moment, Jimin's muffled cries dampening the material of Jin's sweater.

You sit silent and still on the bed, not wanting to interrupt their moment of comfort.

Visions of Jimin's cheerful laughter and Jin's mischievous smile dance through your head, reminding you of what they should look like.

Not this. Not grieving for a brother in danger, wallowing in a sea of tears.

Although it isn't your fault and you can't help but feel that something like this could be the universe's punishment for everything Jungkook's put you through, it's still sad.

There isn't a single person on the planet that you wish would go into a coma and lay there for the rest of their life, surrounded by friends and family to watch them slowly pass.

Not even Jeon Jungkook.

After a while, Jin pats the younger man on the back and softly pets his frazzled orange hair.

"Go sit with Taehyung," Jin quietly whispers, urging Jimin out the door. The upset man doesn't look at you again as he slowly trudges out, dragging his feet like they're weights of solid cement.

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