'Nothing lasts forever. Forever is a lie. All we have is what's in between hello and goodbye.'

That had been a quote I read once a long time ago. The first person I'd ever lost close to me had been my grandma when I was only eleven years old. She'd died peacefully though. She'd died after fulfilling her life to its full. Her goodbye had been tranquil with the scent of lilacs and iodoform.

Min Yoongi's death had been abrupt. His goodbye had been violent with the scent of blood and steel.

The Reformists had retreated when a new wave of police and Outworlders swarmed the training center. Out of the sixty or so Reformists who had attacked the center— two had been arrested, eight dead.

Out of the hundred or so Outworlders that had been training that day— forty-three injured or in critical care, twenty-two dead. Over the course of twelve hours after the attack, nineteen more Outworlders passed on. Total death count: forty-one.

The attack had been officially labelled a massacre.

I didn't know how long I sat with Jimin over the body. Eventually the Outworlders, both the new ones that had come in aid as well as the few trainers who were still able to stand, carried away the body.

If Yoongi's death had hit hard for me, it was devastating on Jimin. I had to half carry him all the way back to the hotel. There, he'd contacted the others and our suite was soon filled with five Outworlders, grief and even agony twisted across all their features.

I'd held my own tears at bay and had given the boys space as they all had a much more deeper connection with the person who'd been lost.

That night a vigil was held. The Infinity Council cracked down on the city's security and protection to allow Outworlders— who had gone into hiding for the past few weeks— to finally step outside and head to the North Church, the main church of the City, where the bodies would be burned. Only Outworlders were allowed to attend the vigil and any humans found on the streets other than the police officers were arrested.

After the six of them had left the hotel to attend the vigil which would take place all night that I finally allowed myself to burst out crying.

I'd only known Yoongi for barely a month. But in that time he'd gained my respect and yes, even platonic affection. He was a strict teacher, but he'd never lost his patience, never was unfair.

Over the course of the weeks, the boys and I had all hung out together usually in the hotel rooms as public was too dangerous now, and it was such a joy to see them all together. And there was a special smile that Yoongi always wore reserved only for the boys: a sweet gummy smile filled with love and adoration for his companions.

And now it was gone.

Vanished because of piece of metal. No. Because of unbearable hate.

How many people died and would die because of hate?

How high a cost would people pay to feel the need to be right?

I stayed up all night; first changing my clothes and taking a long long shower. I'd almost retched when I realized just how blood-soaked my clothes were. Soaked in Yoongi's blood from kneeling. I'd thrown those clothes away, knowing I'd never be able to wear that shirt or pants ever again.

Then I'd treated my injuries. My whole left arm was immobilized with pain from where the gun had pummeled it and there was a nasty bruise on my jaw. I'd gotten plenty of ice and then I sat on the bed, gazing out the window at the city as I pressed the ice bags to my injuries.

All lights of the city had been turned off except the large cathedral near the middle of the city where the vigil was taking place. I could see its soft golden glow between two mountainous black towers.

Silence hung across the world. The kind of silence that only fell when the universe itself seemed to be grieving.

It wasn't until close to 5 AM and the barest of silver light signaling the sun's awakening that Outworlders began to head home.

Jimin finally came back into the hotel at around 6:30 smelling of smoke and grief. He had washed his face for the vigil, but the blood-stained shirt he had on was still the one he'd worn during the attack.

Later, he'd told me he'd been out on a break when the attack had happened. He'd came running back as soon as he'd heard the explosion. Three of his recruits/trainees had died in the attack.

I sat up in bed when he slowly trudged into the hotel room. "Come here," I murmured, holding my arms out to him.

He didn't even bother taking off his shoes. Blood-stained clothes and all, he crawled onto the mattress and curled up into my lap, burying his face against me and clinging tightly to my shirt. I gently stroked his hair, murmuring and comforting him.

At some point he'd begun sobbing again, letting out his pain and yelling and cursing at the world. I held him through it all until he'd finally fell back limp with exhaustion.

When he finally began to calm down— no not calm down, but rather emotionally drain himself, I helped him settle into bed.

He'd just fallen onto the blankets, eyes closed, a look of utter defeat that broke my heart written all over his face. He didn't seem to care about his surroundings or what was happening.

I untied his shoes and tossed them off the bed. His socks soon followed. He at least helped me remove his shirt and then his bloodstained pants which had been soaked in Yoongi's blood when he'd knelt down beside me.

Another wave of nausea swept over me similar to the one that hit me when I'd stripped out of my own blood crusted clothes.

Jimin sighed softly when he was in just his boxers. His Marks glowed dimly, reflecting his exhaustion. "You know, whenever I imagined you taking off my pants it was never like this." Though the words were a ghost of his sultry side, the tone was bitter.

"Rest now," I murmured, pulling back the covers and then tucking him into the mattress tightly. "It's been... too long of a day."

When I snuggled down into the covers he rolled over against me again, once again clinging to me.

"Hey partner," he murmured.

"Hey." I softly brushed some of his silver hair from his eyes.

"Guess what."

"Hm?"

His arms tightened around me. "I'm going to end this fucking war."

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