It's (Not) Ok - A Point Insertion Fanfic

Part 2

(3rd person)

It isn't often that one has to identify a body. If you are ever unfortunate enough to have to, you'll realize it's a horrible experience, as did John, Jason, and Sal. Their reactions differed greatly.

Through sore red eyes, John took only stolen glances at the corpse, each time squeezing Jason's hand tighter to keep from crying. He'd refused to leave Jason's side since last night, and Jason had refused to let him.

In fact, Jason didn't even look at Dillon. He was more focused on comforting John and Sal. It was the worst thing in the world to him, seeing one of his best friends cry as he had been for the last 12 hours, while the other had gone mute.

Sal, however, never broke his gaze. Glazed over emotionless eyes on the dead man's body, cold stare never wavering. If looks could kill, Dillon would have died all over again. He still remained silent, as he had since his phone call with Jason the night prior.

No matter how their behaviors contrasted, their answers were all the same. This was definitely Dillon's corpse. He was gone. And a funeral would be arranged for the next week.

~~~

(John's P.O.V)

I couldn't believe it had only been a week, when it felt like I hadn't seen Dillon in years. All the things he could've done... He already had two degrees. He could've changed the world. Now he would never get to.

We kept the funeral private, close friends and family only. I found myself crying into Jason's shoulder again, endless amounts of tears dripping from my eyes, as they hadn't stopped for the past week. But at least this time it was ok, because now almost everyone around me was crying too.

And Dillon's words still hadn't stopped replaying in my head.

"Don't worry about it."

I should have worried.

~~~

(Jason's P.O.V)

So he was really gone.

I spent most of the funeral comforting people; Giving hugs, handing out tissues. Mumbling "It's ok, everything's ok" to John, who still refused to leave my side, his nails digging crescents into my hand. His sobs would gradually become softer and softer, and almost stop, only to be brought back on by a glance at the casket.

Trying to talk to Sal, who ignored me, his refusal to speak only becoming more persistent and his eyes locked on the ground. I couldn't remember the last time he'd slept, or eaten. Purple half moons were beginning to form under his eyes.

I'd always been one to make people laugh in a bad situation. But for once, jokes won't help.

~~~

(Sal's P.O.V)

I hated it. I hated hearing John's constant sobs. I hated that Jason was always repeating "it's ok" like a mantra. It's not ok. It'll never be ok.

All through the service, I followed a pattern. If someone spoke to me, I'd shake their hand, not make eye contact, not speak. F*ck all these people. Crying, as if it would change anything. Dillon was dead, and nothing in the world could ever bring him back.

No use mourning now.

~~~
(3rd Person)

Soon the funeral service ended, and the casket containing Dillon's corpse was lowered into the ground. The three men stood around the grave, watching as what was left of their friend was buried.

They were all calm for the first time in a long time, until John squeezed Jason's hand again and Jason murmured, for about the hundredth time,

"It's ok."

Sal snapped, turning to face Jason. "No, Jay, it's not ok. I'm sick of hearing you say that. It'll never be ok. Dillon is gone, Jason. What are we going to do without him? What's going to happen with the channel? Huh?" as he said this, his voice began to crack and he burst into tears. A week's worth of pent-up emotions, anger and sadness all spilled out, he couldn't hold them back any longer. John and Jason patted him on the back.

He was right. It wasn't ok.

And they all payed their respects, gathering around Dillon's tombstone, which read:

Don't worry about it