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Tonight, Jungkook died and Yoongi lived to hate him. Before that, Taehyung was arrested. And before that, they all died in a traffic crash, no idea where Yoongi had gone. Seokjin is too late every single time and every time the world fractures and realigns itself around him and he wakes up again and it's April 11.
He wonders what his neighbors must think when, some mornings, Seokjin is still screaming when he wakes up, hands grasping for people who aren't there anymore or his body curled protectively over someone as they're hit by a truck. Again and again and again, Seokjin never gets it right and the whole things starts once more.
Now, every morning, he begins by going to his wall and drawing a new map, triangulating the motels where he's found Yoongi in each loop. His time is limited. He's stuck waiting for the right moment to approach Namjoon, to act like it doesn't hurt him all the way into the corners of his soul when Namjoon sees him for the first time in two years, every time. Seokjin acts casual but he wonders if there are any timelines where Namjoon can see the heartbreak on his face.
It doesn't matter as long as Namjoon's okay.
He has to act at the right moment to stop Namjoon and then race to find Jungkook. Most tries he makes it. Some, he doesn't. The only benefit to the way he keeps looping back in time is that he doesn't have time to sleep, which means he can't have nightmares about Jungkook's crumpled body cradled by the spiderweb cracks of his windshield or hideously broken on the pavement or thrown nearly into the dashboard from the back seat because he didn't buckle up. He's seen them die so many times now, so many ways, and he just wants it all to stop.
Instead, he gets it wrong somehow every time, and it all shatters and forms again. Today, he wakes up curled around nothing on his narrow bed. His hands grasp for someone who's not there. His shoulders ache. When he gets to the mirror, Seokjin checks himself for bruises and finds none. Is it possible to carry back the bruises from car crashes or intercepting punches or bodies falling onto him? So far, he's looked the same every time, as far as he can tell. Except maybe, today, the circles under his eyes are dark and bruiselike.
Hunting in the suitcase that goes back to being half unpacked every single morning, Seokjin finds eye de-puffer in his cosmetics. He'd say a thankful prayer but none of them are being answered anyway. Gently, he taps it under his eyes and then gets up, finding his marker and paper so he can tape them to the wall and start again.
He wonders what his neighbors must think when, some mornings, Seokjin is still screaming when he wakes up, hands grasping for people who aren't there anymore or his body curled protectively over someone as they're hit by a truck. Again and again and again, Seokjin never gets it right and the whole things starts once more.
Now, every morning, he begins by going to his wall and drawing a new map, triangulating the motels where he's found Yoongi in each loop. His time is limited. He's stuck waiting for the right moment to approach Namjoon, to act like it doesn't hurt him all the way into the corners of his soul when Namjoon sees him for the first time in two years, every time. Seokjin acts casual but he wonders if there are any timelines where Namjoon can see the heartbreak on his face.
It doesn't matter as long as Namjoon's okay.
He has to act at the right moment to stop Namjoon and then race to find Jungkook. Most tries he makes it. Some, he doesn't. The only benefit to the way he keeps looping back in time is that he doesn't have time to sleep, which means he can't have nightmares about Jungkook's crumpled body cradled by the spiderweb cracks of his windshield or hideously broken on the pavement or thrown nearly into the dashboard from the back seat because he didn't buckle up. He's seen them die so many times now, so many ways, and he just wants it all to stop.
Instead, he gets it wrong somehow every time, and it all shatters and forms again. Today, he wakes up curled around nothing on his narrow bed. His hands grasp for someone who's not there. His shoulders ache. When he gets to the mirror, Seokjin checks himself for bruises and finds none. Is it possible to carry back the bruises from car crashes or intercepting punches or bodies falling onto him? So far, he's looked the same every time, as far as he can tell. Except maybe, today, the circles under his eyes are dark and bruiselike.
Hunting in the suitcase that goes back to being half unpacked every single morning, Seokjin finds eye de-puffer in his cosmetics. He'd say a thankful prayer but none of them are being answered anyway. Gently, he taps it under his eyes and then gets up, finding his marker and paper so he can tape them to the wall and start again.
