... And Other Ships

VMin: Heal

this story is based off a mini-series called Beautiful Images by MoganNgyuel. I got her permission for something like this a while ago, but i couldn't come up with anything. this story contains SPOILERS, so go check out Beautiful Images and the sequel, Beautiful Pain (both of which are so good and are great to read when you're sad holy shit). go show my girl some love because she needs it. 

The last thing I remember was the color black. It flowed out of my mouth like a river. Is blood supposed to be black? My head hurt so bad, as if it were being split apart - ripped apart at the suture lines of my skull. 

This wasn't Taehyung's fault at all; I don't blame him for my death like my parents do. He's innocent in this situation; he didn't kill me. 

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I walk into the hospital, following my own lifeless body that laid on a stretcher. I'm covered in blood and my neck doesn't look normal. The clothes I wore on our date are forever ruined with all the blood in my body. I shake my head sadly, very aware that no one can see me; no one except for Taehyung. 

His surgeon seems very nice. His name is Seokjin. There are so many Asians here in Boston, but only their names are traditional; they're all bleached out of their culture. Taehyung's the worst offender, though, and I always pointed it out to him. I just never used the term bleached. 

"I can't do this!" Seokjin whispers to himself, watching as Taehyung is thrusted into general surgery for his punctured organs. 

I stand beside him and pat his back, casting my gaze upon his beautiful face. "You can and you will. He needs you to help him live, and you need him to help you be brave. You two are in this together," I tell him, and something seems to click in his brain. 

I smile; Taehyung is in the best hands. 

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"Hi, baby," I say as I sit down in the visitor's chair by my love's bed.

Today's my funeral, but I wanted to stay with Taehyung instead. He needs someone here for him while Seokjin is in surgeries and Jungkook is in school and mourning me. 

He looks better than when we entered the hospital. He's still sickly pale, but his face isn't swollen and bloody anymore. There's some stitches in his head from the surgeries Seokjin already put him through, but they don't look gross; the surgeon did his best to make Taehyung look pretty while comatose. 

All his other stitches are nearly healed; just a few more weeks and they'd only be little scars, little reminders of what he went through. Taehyung's life started in the most shitty way possible; the scars won't mean anything to him. The scars on his head are a different story. 

"You look so good, Tae. You definitely won't think so, but you do." 

I take his cold hand in mine, rubbing the back of it with my thumb. When he wakes up, he's going to be in a world of hurt. My parents won't ever tell him that they wished I was in his place, but they'd never talk to him again. He's not going to be Jungkook's superhero anymore; instead, Jungkook will be his. 

And I'll be here by his side, only seen in his hallucinations. He'll believe he killed me. He'll hate himself and wish he was dead, too. 

"Taehyung, please accept that my time is up. Time machines don't exist and you can never bring me back. But you exist, and can move on from me. For the love of god, Taehyung, please move on and heal." 

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"He's not cute; he's hot." 

I giggle as I stand by Taehyung's register at Wal-Mart. There was a cute boy, fresh out of high school, who was bickering with another (much taller) boy near the front of the store. I saw the way the smaller boy didn't want to come over to the register and blushed hard when he did.