Of all the ideas Calum had had in his life, this definitely was not one of the better ones. Yet, he felt like it needed to happen. Like it was necessary. The other boys had done it, apparently, and now it was his turn. He wanted to do it, despite how much it sickened his stomach and dizzied his head. He had to see it himself.

"Calum..." Luke said, when Calum told him his ideas they were lounging on the couch. "Calum, no."

Calum's head was in Luke's lap, the blonde boy's pale fingers combing the dark strands of Calum's hair. He felt his hand still after he spoke the words, but Calum was anything if not persistent. He flipped back onto the couch, curling his knees to his chest and turning so he faced Luke clearly head on. Luke looked at him with wide blue eyes, shaking his head.

"I want to, Luke," he said. "I swear on it. I wouldn't want to do this if I didn't think it would help."

Luke touched the side of Calum's face gingerly. "Help what, Cal? I don't think going to visit yourself at the morgue is going to help us prove Ashton's dad killed you."

Luke paused then. "I never thought I would say that sentence, ever, and have it actually make sense."

Calum pushed away his hand and pulled himself to his feet. He started grabbing his sneakers and tugging them onto his feet. "Come on, lazy bones. You don't have to come with me, but I'm going. I know it won't help convict Ashton's dad. BUT— it will help me feel more secure in the fact that I am, in fact, not dead. Maybe it will even help with the memories."

Luke stood up too. "Calum, it's not pretty. I don't think you understand how gruesome it really is. We all saw it, me and the other boys. And we didn't like it. Ashton threw up afterwards in the trash can outside the building."

"Was I that bad looking?" Calum pretended to be offended.

"You know what I mean, Cal," Luke said dubiously. He put his hands on the shorter one's shoulders. "You have to believe me. It's not a good idea."

"It is a good idea, and I'm doing it. Either you and Michael can come along, or I will go and stare at my dead body by myself."

Calum crossed his arms, and Luke set his jaw. They stared at each other, and stared, and stared, and finally, Luke gave up.

"Fine. Damn it. But don't say I didn't warn you," Luke grumbled, and grabbed his cell phone.

Michael picked them up in his car sixteen minutes later, his lips etched into a frown, one arm hanging out the side of the window. He lowered his sunglasses as Calum and Luke opened the doors to his car.

"Are you guys fucking kidding me, or are we actually headed to the god damn morgue right now?" he said, as a way of greeting. Luke shared a look with him.

"We're actually headed to the morgue," he said. "Mr. I Want to See My Dead Body over there is insistent upon it."

Michael looked at Calum in the backseat through the rearview mirror. "You will probably regret this decision, Calum."

The boy just shrugged. "Consider me warned."

Michael turned the wheel and Calum sat back, letting loose a relieved sigh. He watched Luke in the front seat as Michael drove, his curly blonde hair messy and unbrushed from a day of sleeping and watching television. His neck, pale and long, disappeared underneath a thin black t-shirt, the curves of his shoulder prominent underneath the loose fabric. Calum can remember many months worth of watching him, learning from him, being with him. It all had flooding back to him in a matter of just a few weeks.

The drive to the morgue was slow and unrelenting, due to Michael's eminent reluctance to arrive. Once he pulled into the parking lot, Calum was the first to leap out of the car. Luke and Michael followed begrudgingly.

"Remember that people can't see or hear you, okay?" Luke reminded Calum as they opened the doors to the building. "We'll talk, you... do whatever it is you intend to do."

Inside, there was a man sitting at the front desk with a round belly a newspaper propped against the table, only the bit of fuzzy hair left on his bald head showing above it. Luke cleared his throat and the newspaper fell.

Startled, the guard fumbled for the paper again. "Can I help you?"

Luke was the one to speak. "Yes, we're here to see if we could look at Calum Hood's body. We were his best friends. We just wanted to visit him."

"No can do, sir," said the guard. "Mr. Hood's body is still under investigation with the po-lice." He said the word "police" as though it were two separate words altogether. Luke pressed his lips into a line.

"I know. But you can look on the list, our names are on it. We visited right after he was admitted. See? Hemmings. And Clifford."

Calum watched the two of them bicker, both pointing to the same list, and used the opportunity to sneak away towards the two double doors that is labeled MORGUE. Calum gently opened it, just wide enough for his slim body to fit through, and then it shut behind him.

It was dead silent. Literally. The room was filled with what looked like massive file cabinets, except they opened up to contain bodies. There were a few tables with bodies still lying there, white sheets covering them up. Calum grimaced, but began searching the cabinets for his name, his footsteps silent against the floor. He could still hear the three men arguing outside the door.

Calum found his name at the very end of the room, labeled on top of a silver handle. Calum gripped it cautiously, took a deep breath, and pulled. The cabinet slid out, and containing it was a dead body. His dead body.

Calum wasn't sure what he expected. It looked exactly like him, but his skin was pale and his lips were white. Calum touched the skin, and it was cold and limp. He winced, but forced himself to continue. Slowly, he looked down to where the bullet had struck him, right in the leg. It looked almost unrealistic, the way the bullet had carved a neat hole straight through his flesh. Calum rubbed a hand along his own leg, but felt no hole. He was so relieved he almost didn't hear the morgue doors open.

In strode Luke, Michael, and the guard, who looked angry enough to smack Luke if it wouldn't get him fired. Calum turned and grabbed a pair of rubber gloves, slid them on, and then pulled a pair of small scissors from his pocket.

"What the hell are you doing?" Michael asked, and both Luke and the guard turned to stare at him.

"Who in the hell are you talkin' to?" asked the guard irritably. Luke came to his rescue.

"Me. I was humming under my breath. It always gets on his nerves," lied Luke. The guard squinted his eyes at Luke suspiciously, but the two boys turned back to Calum before he had a chance to do anything.

Calum carefully cut a piece of fabric from the body's t-shirt and then slipped it into his pocket, along with the scissors. He took off the gloves and stuffed them in his other pocket.

"Why is it already open?" asked the guard. He nearly tackled Calum accidentally as he barreled over to the cabinet, grabbing the handle. Luke pursed his lips and shrugged.

"Dunno, sir," said Luke, "but I think we're done here anyway. Thanks for your help."

And the three of them walked to the door, the fabric safe in Calum's pocket.

"But you didn't even look at the body!" protested the guard, but the three boys were already out the door.

—-

A/N: any idea what calum is planning??

thanks for reading. hope you enjoyed. love u to the moon