train tracks
Title: train tracks.
Pairing: kaisoo [jongin centric]
Rating: pg-13 [i guess?]
Genre: tradegy
Length: one-shot
Summary: sometimes games are a lot of fun, but other times they have the opposite effect. Jongin wished that wasn't possible.
wc:1,378
warning: contains death by suicide and is linked to depression.
Pills. Lot's and lot's of pills surround Jongin as his head lays dizzy on his kitchen table. His eyes are closed, eyelashes lightly brushing again the chipped wood of the surface, the colour a faded ebony. His fingers shake and rattle as he grabs his hair, the pain of it all swimming through his system. His fingernails are bloody, his legs, arms and chest are covered in scratches and he's oozing blood like a piece of fresh meat at the butchers. His teeth are brittle, yellow, some are even a faded brown, and they carry chips and dents and traces of pills, drugs, and even more pills. His collarbones jump of out his skin, the frailness of his frame coated in skin is evident, his elbows, knees, hips and wrists poke out so much that if he stood up he would merely break into small pieces.
His chest rattles, sob after sob escapes him and his shoves another fistful of whatever the hell these ar into his mouth. They look dangerous - and they probably are too. They taste sweet yet bitter against his teeth, he's so common to them they're almost tasteless now, his taste buds accustomed to the taste of death and doses. He swallows, his throat dry, and he wails as he feels them lay in his stomach, he's empty apart from them since his dinner sits cold and ruined in the dustbin.
His head is whizzing like a race car, he's not able to keep up and he slumps down against the table again, almost falling off his chair as he does so. He starts to claw at his cheek, trying to erase a spot from a memory that the disastrous pills just flung into his mind.
Kyungsoo.
Kyungsoo, Kyungsoo, Kyungsoo. It's all Kyungsoo's fault! Everything that is happening right now is Kyungsoo's fault. Jongin can't lie - well, at he least he thinks he can't - and putting another handful of pills in his voice cracks as he spits it out, him and his body rejecting it. But he thinks he hears something.
"Go get some help, Jongin."
He slams his fists on the table, letting out a croaky scream as he refuses to believe what he just heard, and in that voice. He isn't here, oh no, and he can't tell Jongin to go get some help because he's the reason Jongin is doing this to himself, he's the motivation Jongin has to shove one pill after another down his throat knocking days and weeks off his life. If he was here with Jongin, there wouldn't be any need for Jongin to torture himself in this way.
Muttering some incoherent thoughts, another lot of pills slide down into his forming corpse.
"Go to the hospital, Jongin. You need it."
There it is again. That voice. A voice that belongs to a person that isn't even alive anymore, a person who is now an angel up above to high for Jongin to reach.
Jongin's hand shake as he lifts them, putting them behind his ears and scratching, trying his very best to claw them off and throw them away so he doesn't have to hear that sweet, wretched voice speak lies.
He doesn't need help, he's perfectly fine the way he is, he thinks. As long as he gets closer to Kyungsoo again he'll be fine.
He's confused, as to why Kyungsoo is telling him to get help. Does he not want Jongin to be an angel with him? Does he want to break their promise of I won't live without you? Is it really Kyungsoo that he is hearing or something, just a little something, telling him that he can find and settle for someone second best?
"No!" Jongin screams, his voice eloping the room so much the pills start to roll away from him, going in every direction they possibly can. He falters, as he watches his escape roll onto the carpet on the floor. Falling to his knees, he tries to pick the pills up, his hands too brittle and weak to work too well and his eyes just won't stop darting around the place.
"I just want Kyungsoo..." Jongin cries, eyes puffy, nose flared, throat popping.
He was weak now, weaker then he'd been before. He'd taken too many pills this time, and he could feel every organ in his body clenching, gasping, as they tried to fight against the demons entering his body. The white capsules floated around, each one bursting their poison into ever pour and dent in his skin, in his bones, each one winning against his system. Time was running out for Jongin.
His back snaps, a wave of pain emitting from his lips, not just for him but for Kyungsoo too - the deja vu too real, too painful for his messed up mind.
It flashes over his eyes - the memory of the game, the memory of chicken. You're too chicken, you're too chicken, you won't cross the road. His heart clenched, he wished he hadn't called Kyungsoo chicken, he wished he'd never decided to play that game.
A little scared, shaking Kyungsoo hopping over the large railway tracks in the dark, Jongin refusing to turn his torch on to help his boyfriend because that would just be cheating. The little whelps from Kyungsoo as he cried, he's too scared, an he wished he would just admit to being a chicken instead of risking himself like this. His knee's cracked, hitting a track as he falls onto all fours, and he really let's the tears fall now, loud enough for Jongin to hear.
The scrambling, when he hears a toot, signalling that a nasty mental monster is shooting towards him. The shouts that emit from Jongin as his torch falters - the battery has gone and Jongin's eyes just aren't good enough to find his little lover.
The hoarse help! help! from Kyungsoo, he's racing to the edge of the track but he doesn't even know where that is - Jongin never told him. Jongin's racing too, and he swears that at that moment his heart is beating louder and faster then the oncoming train.
And then it hits him.
The scream and the cracks of Kyungsoo's little body as the train hits him, just meters away from being safe, safe in Jongin arms where Jongin would cry, telling Kyungsoo how sorry he was for making him go through that game that they would never play again.
Jongin screeches, his feet moving too fast for him to keep up with but he has to find Kyungsoo and check if the inkling of hope in his heart that he is still breathing, still functioning, still here with him, is right.
But it's not.
He finds Kyungsoo, crumpled up in the fetal position in the dirt and debris from the old track. His tiny face is covered in cuts and bruises, his eyes slammed shut and his face is contorted with a fear Jongin is sure he put there. His hands are held tight to his chest, over his heart, little crescent moons patterned into the skin. His shirt is ripped, revealing gash after gash on his beautiful pale skin, and Jongin feels a breakdown coming. He's also shoe-less and Jongin spots his other shoe lying a few meters up the track, the sole broken and the shoe bent, covered in dirt and tattered. His hair is matted with a mixture of dirt and blood, and now all Jongin can do is declare that Kyungsoo is the biggest, bravest boy of them all.
And that's why the pills are so easy to swallow. That's why Jongin isn't going to listen to the apparent Kyungsoo telling him that he needs help, or that he needs to be treated. Because he doesn't, all Jongin can live for is Kyungsoo and he's not here.
So when Jongin feels his heart burst underneath his skin, when he feels his lungs tighten and collapse, when he feels his head going fuzzy, he knows that he'll be okay. He knows that he's doing the right thing and he knows that's he'll be safe and happy again.
Because he'll be going to see Kyungsoo, and that's all he needs to feel content.