Silence.

The only thing that was surrounding Taehyung. No members, no surprise yelling or hugs, no welcome home cake, no cheek kisses or loud music. He went to turn the lights on hoping it would expose all of the others, but the switches didn't work. There was no electricity or running water. Who the hell hasn't paid the bill?!

"Guys?" Taehyung asked again.

Just...silence.

Taehyung's brows furrowed as he searched around the dorm and couldn't find anyone else. He wasn't too sure what was going on but he figured answers would come eventually. He stepped into his room, the one he shared with Jimin and Jungkook. "The Maknae's Lair," is what Jungkook would always call it. He threw his backpack down onto his bed and as it landed some of the medications and outpatient instruction sheets fell out. He grabbed the paper and took a seat, deciding to actually read it.

"Taehyung is to arrive for outpatient counseling two times a week."

"All medications to be taken twice daily, seven days a week."

Seven.

Taehyung sighed and threw the paper down beside him on the bed. He looked around the room to see his phone sitting on the nightstand. He hadn't had his phone his entire time in the facility, as it had been left at home the day of the accident.

The day of the accident...the day we...all...got in the car.

Memories of that day rushed right back in. The screaming, the panic, the tears.

No. No. No.

Taehyung grabbed the pillows and blankets next to him and bunched them up into a big ball before shoving his head down into them.

There is no party.

He released heart-shattering sobs as the tears took over. He fully recalled what had happened. He recalled who he had lost, and how. The electric bill hadn't been paid because there was nobody to pay it. The trash hadn't been taken out because there'd been nobody to do it.

The place had sat empty for almost a year because there was no family living there anymore to keep it alive. The clothes laying on the couch were the same clothes that'd been thrown there eight months ago.

"I'm so sorry," Taehyung cried into his bundle of pillows and blankets. He screamed and cried and wailed until his lungs gave out. Reliving that day in his head over and over was pure and absolute torture. It was like a wound being constantly re-opened, left there to bleed out and get infected countless times.

"I'm so sorry!" He screamed again as guilt washed over. A deep sense of remorse ate away at his soul as he thought of every possible scenario that would have made that day end differently. I should have stalled everyone somehow. I should have ran back to grab my phone. I should have done something.

He kept sobbing in his bed and screaming things like "I want them back," and "Please come back!"

In the midst of his sorrow, an idea hit him. He remembered always being told that anything was possible in life. What about in death? Why did it have to be permanent?

Taehyung convinced himself that it didn't.

He was going to bring them back.