Author’s Notes: I couldn’t come up with a title to this fic so I had temporarily used Marine Snow (a song by Sukima Switch) which I was obsessively listening to while I was writing this and it just stuck. ^0^ This fic is unbetaed, so constructive criticisms are very much welcome/needed.
Also, let's pretend Kyuhyun's accident didn't happen in 2007. ^0^ (but more recently)
It’s the sound of the heart monitor and the smell of disinfectant that greets him when he enters the room. He wrinkles his nose at the overpowering smell, leaving an aftertaste in his mouth. He’s been here many times but has yet to get used to it. The white washed walls, the beds with white colored sheets and the people dressed in white who come and go, asking the same questions and not telling anything new.
Intensive Care Unit.
He watches, grimly at the IV Drip in the bedpost, attached to it is someone who was singing his first solo just last week, angry red streaks mar his beautiful face now, they will heal but the sight would haunt him forever. He hears someone shift and he turns to survey Ryeowook, sleeping in an uncomfortable position in a chair at the foot of the bed. It’s only been a week but Ryeowook seems to have aged for years, he’s never thought it possible, for Ryeowook to look old.
He pulls out a blanket from a cabinet outside and drapes it over the sleeping boy. Ryeowook stirs at the sudden warmth but doesn’t wake. He lets him sleep, suspects that the only time Ryeowook can sleep is when he’s here, silently keeping vigil. Ryeowook leaves in the morning when Yesung arrives with coffee. Ryeowook avoids eye contact, and Yesung lets him. Yesung would transfer the chair closer to the bedside, sometimes holding a bruised hand and whispering stories of how Yesung’s day had gone. Most times, Yesung would just sit there, watching the machines, the rise and fall of the other’s chest, as if fearing it would stop when he tears his eyes away.
He silently wonders if this is what Kyuhyun wanted, Yesung beside him in the day and Ryeowook tending to him at night. He could have them both, he didn’t have to choose.
Is this why you won’t wake up Kyuhyun?
Because everyone had been consumed with their own grief, they had only come to notice the subtle changes in Ryeowook after one of the more perceptive members began to mention it. But he always knew, he saw it from the moment he delivered the news of the accident to Ryeowook. Saw the initial panic and fear in his eyes… and then something more that shouldn’t have been there. Guilt.
Ryeowook is drowning in guilt, and he can only watch. He wanted to ask… ask Ryeowook about the purple bruises in his wrists. Ask him about the events that happened that day, ask him why Kyuhyun was the only one in the car when the accident happened. But Ryeowook had shut him out, won’t let him talk about it and he lets him because every time he meets Ryeowooks gaze, his eyes would tell him, that no… you don’t want to know.
And maybe he didn’t want to know.
He adjusts the blanket around Ryeowook, noting the dark circles in his eyes. His fingers ghost over them gently, careful not to wake him up because it’s the only time he can touch him now.
When morning comes, Ryeowook would wake to find fresh coffee Yesung always brings. Ryeowook would always leave it untouched. Yesung doesn’t really notice. When Ryeowook leaves, Yesung would sit by Kyuhyun’s bedside, asking him to open his eyes.
He would stand and watch, because none of them would give answers. Both Yesung and Ryeowook live in suspended time with Kyuhyun.
And so he stares, stares at Kyuhyun’s beautiful face marred by angry red scratches and asks him to wake up.
Wake up, Kyuhyun.
Wake up and fix this.
Wake up and fix them.