Before We Go Up in Flames [7/7]

[winterdynasty]

Let | Me | Love | You | One | Last |

- TIME -

Chanyeol hated the scent of rain.

He hated the scent of it, though Baekhyun used to hold onto Chanyeol’s arm whenever it rained, taking in deep breaths of the the chemicals mixing in the air, and then letting it out with a soft giggle that would bring a smile to Chanyeol’s face.

He hated the taste of it, though Baekhyun used to run outside, holding his mouth open to catch a droplet or two, until Chanyeol would usher him back inside so he wouldn’t get a cold.

He hated the sound of it tapping against his black umbrella and fancy Italian shoes and the small black casket in front of him, though Baekhyun used to play his piano more often with the ambiance of the freshly falling rain in the background because he claimed it’d make it more soothing, or he’d listen to a recorded track of rain on nights he couldn’t fall asleep.

Chanyeol hated the rain because it reminded him of Baekhyun.

It was cold. It was wet. It was miserable.

And as he stood out here in the pouring rain, staring down to his husband’s coffin once again, he couldn’t help but notice that it made him feel empty as well.

It was empty. It was more empty than the first time they held this stupid funeral.

The tapping of the rain on his jacket.

The silence. The tears. The emotions.

The lonely walk to the memorial park and all the missed calls from Sehun throughout the week.

His chest.

It was empty.

From the small crowd of close family and friends that stood behind Chanyeol as he stood above the small picture frame of Baekhyun’s gorgeous smiling face covered in droplets of rain, to the bouquet of wet, drooping lilies in his tightly clenched fist.

From the soulless look in Zhang Yixing’s eyes, to the small black casket in front of him.

It was empty.

He set down the flowers, turned, and left the venue.

Chanyeol could still remember the look on Yixing’s face the first time Baekhyun had asked him to be their doctor if they ever became superheros. It was something between surprise and shock, abhorration and disgust. He had explained that he wasn’t a doctor, and Baekhyun had slapped him on the back and said, “Nope, but you can be!” And now here he was, just a few years later - the best physician in town.

Yixing would always enter their room and sigh as he’d glance over their wounds. “I knew being a doctor for a team of superheros would be difficult, but you two children definitely keep my hands busy.”

Baekhyun used to just smile up to him through his blood-stained teeth, glowing much too brightly for someone in a hospital. Chanyeol couldn’t help but smile too.

But now it was different, sitting in his examination room alone, and the white walls seemed so overbearing and bleak without Baekhyun by his side, poking at his bruises. Chanyeol had woken up in this room 2 days after the incident, wrapped in far more bandages than he thought was necessary, thinking about everything from the days before, which only made his head hurt. Yixing had entered slowly, silently, and closed the door without saying a word.

Chanyeol had glanced over to him and sat up slowly with a grim frown on his face. “I guess it’s just me this time.”

Yixing had merely stared at him from across the room, hands folded behind his back. He let out a sigh and spoke softly. “Of all the things I told you not to do…”

Chanyeol’s expression was hard and unreadable. “I’m still alive, aren’t I?”

Yixing clenched his jaw. “Barely.”

He stepped closer, rolling his eyes as he reminded him that he was brought into his hospital after having passed out from far too many factors, a concussion and excessive bleeding and burns were few on the list that he stressed, and how he really ought to take better care of himself, but the look on Chanyeol’s face, twisted in so much pain indicated that he wasn’t even listening. Yixing stepped closer to him with a soft sigh, raising one hand from behind his back to place it on top of Chanyeol’s head, letting him lean against his chest as he cried out his sorrows once again, oblivious to the sound of the metal knife slipping from Yixing’s fingers and clattering against the tile floor behind him.

A few days after the funeral, Chanyeol found himself reluctantly heading toward the prison to fill out some paperwork for the city.

Earlier that week, Sehun had explained what happened between the moments that Chanyeol had blacked out, from Jongin teleporting away with him and Jongdae, to finding out that Kyungsoo had disappeared with Chanyeol and Baekhyun before he and Jongin could return. The androids were nothing special without Kyungsoo or Jongdae by their side, and were more of a nuisance than a threat. Although Chanyeol truly wasn’t listening by this point, Sehun went on, groaning and moaning something about it all being an annoying distraction when they had better things to do like find out where Kyungsoo had taken them, when Chanyeol interrupted him.

“So Kyungsoo is…?”

Sehun had glanced up and furrowed his brows, guessing the information that Chanyeol sought. “Presumed dead.”

“And Jongdae?”

Sehun glanced away. “...Detained.”

Chanyeol sighed, sinking back into the depths of his mind. He felt like the only one that had lost in this battle.

Upon reaching the large, old building, Chanyeol was lead through the dark corridors by the warden far into the heart of the containment facility until they reached a large room for interrogation with a thin wooden table in the middle of it and thick bars separating their part of the room from where Jongdae sat in a chair, his hands and ankles chained.

Chanyeol pulled out a chair at the table, and Jongdae leaned back smugly.

“How lucky I must be to be visited by the one and only Park Chanyeol.”

Chanyeol looked up to him with a raised eyebrow before turning to his bag, flipping through a few papers as he muttered, “How lucky you must be to still be alive.”

Jongdae replied with nothing more than a smile as Yixing, Jongin, and Sehun shuffled into the small room behind Chanyeol, leaning against the back wall as the warden closed the door behind them.

Jongdae’s eyes scanned across the people standing in the back, and his smile fell. “It seems like you're too afraid to visit alone, however.”

“Fear has nothing to do with it,” Chanyeol sighed, pulling a stack of papers out of his bag. “I’m here for reasons that they're allowed to listen in to.”

Jongdae leaned forward with a cocky smile. “Is this deja vu? I feel like we’ve gone through this before. And do you know how that ended? With us escaping, and you all shaking in fear.”

Chanyeol sighed, clicking his pencil and scribbling something down as he muttered, “Except we’re keeping you two separate this time, and Kyungsoo was the reason you escaped the first time.”

Jongdae silenced, glaring at Chanyeol between the bars, irritated by the scratching of Chanyeol’s pencil on the paper. He took in a short breath.

“Supernova, huh?” The lead in Chanyeol’s pencil snapped in annoyance. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, clicked his pencil and began writing again. Jongdae leaned back in his chair with a bored frown. “I heard. Tragic. I never expected someone like Baekhyunnie to meet such a typical end, if I’m honest.”

Chanyeol gave him no reaction aside from scribbling down more basic information, trying to drown out anything he was saying.

“Too bad I couldn’t witness it. I’d rather have electrocuted him instead. Go out with a bang.”

Chanyeol’s grip tightened, accidentally snapping his pencil in half. He let out a low annoyed groan, set the broken pencil down, and shot a glare up to Jongdae before fishing another pencil from his bag.

“What’s wrong, Chanyeollie?” Jongdae asked, tilting his head with an infuriating smirk. “Do you miss him? How does it feel? Does it hurt? Knowing that he’s gone because you couldn’t save him, does it hurt?”

Chanyeol could hear Sehun and Jongin shuffling along the wall, exchanging harsh whispers and annoyed grunts, but Chanyeol held up a hand to silence them. He looked up to Jongdae. “It was an honorable sacrifice.” One that shouldn’t have been made.

The crazed look in Jongdae’s eyes didn’t fade. “A sacrifice made by whom? You or him?”

Chanyeol looked at him for a few seconds before glancing away, still struggling with the guilt of letting Baekhyun go. Both times, it was his fault, yet Baekhyun wouldn’t let him take the blame. “Baekhyun made that choice on his own.” Because he wanted to save me. Although I wanted to save him. He let out a soft laugh. “We were partners, after all.” Similar and dumb in all the same ways. “You wouldn’t know, though, would you?” Chanyeol asked, turning the question back to Jongdae. “You wouldn’t know what it’s like to have a real partner.” Jongdae settled down, eyes narrowed as Chanyeol looked down to his notes, uninterested. “Kyungsoo wouldn’t risk his life for you. You’re expendable. That’s why you’re still here. He uses you because you’re simple to manipulate. You don’t know what to do on your own, so you let Kyungsoo tell you what to do instead. After all, you’ve always just been Kyungsoo’s destructive little puppet...” He glanced up to Jongdae with a dangerous smirk playing on his lips. “Haven’t you?”

Something sparked in Jongdae’s eyes, and they flashed a bright green as he leapt forward, his hands only constrained by the chains clamped around his wrists that tangled in the bars between them, his hands barely reaching through the bars, electricity crackling between his fingertips as he snarled.

Chanyeol’s eyes narrowed as he let out a hiss through gritted teeth. “I dare you to try.”

Jongdae’s lips curled into a snarl before he settled back down with a loud groan, holding his face in his hands.

“I expect you to be cooperative, Mr. Kim,” Chanyeol said, clearing his throat as he adjusted his papers, the sneer on Jongdae’s face matched by Chanyeol’s own unpleasant smile. “Now. How about we talk about last week?”

---------------

The room had filled with silence except for the scribbles of Chanyeol’s pencil on his paper.

“Are you done with your dumb questions yet?” Jongdae yawned, “I’m bored and hungry, and seeing your face isn’t making any of that better.”

Chanyeol frowned down to his notes. The paperwork was done as much as it could be with Jongdae’s help, although the sparse information he gave him was anything but useful.

“One more,” Chanyeol mumbled, shuffling through his bag to slowly pull out a dull piece of metal. He set the knife down on the table as everyone in the room stood in silence, watching him turn the weapon until the blade was pointing at Jongdae. Chanyeol looked down to the small, familiar insignia formed on the hilt, and back up to Jongdae. “Would either of you like to tell me why Zhang Yixing had this knife?”

For a few seconds, the room stood eerily silent. Jongdae looked down to the knife and then back up to Chanyeol. “It’s not my knife,” Jongdae sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Perhaps you should ask whoever made it.”

“My sources tell me that Do Kyungsoo is dead.” Jongdae showed no reaction to the news aside from the slight upward twitch of the corners of his lips. Chanyeol grit his teeth. “This is convincing me otherwise.”

“Perhaps you should do your research first before expecting answers from me.”

“Where is Do Kyungsoo.”

“Now, Chanyeol, you know I’d be breaking the rules of the game to disclose information such as-”

Chanyeol stood, throwing his chair back, his voice cracking as he screamed, “Where is Do Kyungsoo!”

As the room settled down from the commotion, Jongdae leaned back in his chair with an infuriating smile, much too calm and secretive for someone like Jongdae, and although Chanyeol knew it was exactly what Jongdae was trying to do and that he shouldn’t give in, it was absolutely pissing him off.

Chanyeol huffed angrily, and with a clench of his fist, he slammed the knife down onto the table, effectively cracking the table in half. The flames of Chanyeol’s anger quickly consumed the wood, and with the blow of a whistle, prison guards rushed in to douse the burning table with buckets of water.

Chanyeol’s hand tightened around the knife as he turned away, rubbing his eyes with a groan and a lowly muttered “God, I cannot stand him,” dismissing himself with a wave to the guards to take Jongdae back to his cell, ignoring the warden’s glare for breaking one of the tables.

As the guards rushed into the room on the opposite side of the bars, Jongdae gave a final shout. “Don’t assume this is the end, Park Chanyeol - he said this would be his greatest stunt yet!”

With a sigh, Chanyeol walked toward the back wall, where Jongin and Sehun were silently staring over at Yixing, who was watching as Jongdae struggled against the guards. Chanyeol stopped in front of Jongin, turning the teleporter’s attention away from Yixing to give him a tired smile. “Thank you for bringing Jongdae here,” he said softly. “Who knows where he’d be if you hadn't.”

“I panicked, Chanyeol,” Jongin spilled out, “I’m… I’m so… I didn’t mean to leave you two behind.”

“It’s okay,” Chanyeol reassured him, patting Jongin’s shoulder. “What’s done is done. You did well.” Jongin tried to speak again, but Chanyeol interrupted. “I mean that, Jongin. Thank you.” Jongin frowned and let his head droop, unable to meet Chanyeol’s eyes. Chanyeol patted his shoulder once more and walked on to stop in front of Yixing.

He took the healer’s hand into his and uncurled Yixing’s fingers. “Thank you,” Chanyeol said softly, placing Kyungsoo’s knife in Yixing’s hands and curling his fingers back over the hilt, “for letting me make things right with Baekhyun. Even if that wasn’t your real intent.”

Yixing cowered back slightly under the weight of Chanyeol’s piercing glare, but Chanyeol quickly turned and walked on, his trench coat flapping behind him as he stepped out of the dark, stuffy building and took a deep breath of fresh air.

“Chanyeol!” Yixing called, running after him. “It was my intent; I wanted you to see him.”

“But that wasn’t all you wanted.” Chanyeol paused, glancing over his shoulder, his eyes laden with the pain of betrayal. “Right, hyung?”

Yixing’s voice softened. “Don’t speak to me like we’re strangers-”

“Are we not?”

“We’re not,” Yixing begged, taking a step closer, stopping only as Chanyeol took a step back. “Chanyeol, I did for you what I did because I care about you. I wanted you to see Baekhyun; I wanted you to smile again.”

“But even if you had a chance to, your intent was never for me to save him,” Chanyeol cut in. “No,” he laughed, “you wanted both of us to die this time. You’re a very good actor, Yixing, I almost believed you were sincere.”

“I was sincere.”

“About what? Who were you loyal to?”

Yixing had the audacity to look hurt. “My allegiance lies with you and Baekhyun, and you know that.”

“Please don’t lie to me today, Zhang Yixing.”

“I’m not.”

Chanyeol let out a sigh. “Why are we here? What else do you want from me, Yixing? There’s nothing to discuss.”

“I think you’re misunderstanding something.”

“What is there to misunderstand? You planned to make me happy, then to make me hurt, and then stick a knife into me when I was the weakest.”

Yixing silenced for a second. “...That is a separate matter.”

“But you’re not denying it.”

Yixing’s eyes shifted away.

“Could I have saved him?” Chanyeol cried, his voice cracking in distress. “Could I? Could I do it again? How many lies did you tell me that week? How long have you been plotting with them to kill us?”

Yixing shook his head. “It wasn’t to kill you, it was-”

“To break me? To hurt me, to wound me, to watch me crack? To push me so close to the edge that you’d hope I’d fall off on my own so you wouldn’t have to soil your own pristine, white gloves?” Chanyeol let out a weak laugh, though his eyes flashed a bright red as he glared at him, his lip curled in a snarl. “You were right - you’re no healer, Yixing.”

The healer’s lips slowly closed, and he looked away unable to meet Chanyeol’s eyes.

Chanyeol let himself calm as he focused on Yixing’s defeated stance, and although he looked so small and fragile, Chanyeol wasn't about to give in. “You took Baekhyun away from me. You’re already killing me as it is; I don’t know why you stopped. Would you rather watch me suffer again instead? Do you think that’s worse than death?”

Yixing still stared at the floor, his fingers clenching at his sides, lips sealed in a tight line.

“Could I have saved him?” Chanyeol asked once more, his voice a shaky whisper. Yixing’s eyes shifted away. “Could I? Did you tell me I couldn’t so you wouldn’t have to kill both of us? Instead you let me lead my husband to his death? Did you?!”

Yixing finally let out an answer in a soft breath of air. “No, Chanyeol, I-”

“Are you lying to me?” Chanyeol nearly shouted, stepping toward him. “Could I save him, could I do it again-”

“You can’t! What’s done is done, and there’s no use questioning-”

Yixing was silenced by Chanyeol’s slightly off-target punch to his jaw that made him fall to the floor. He held his hand to his cheek, and the pain quickly subsided as he stared up to Chanyeol, whose eyes were glowing that furious red as he huffed angrily.

“You knew our relationship was weak, and you used that against us - how dare you, Yixing.”

Yixing merely stared at him, stunned into silence as he watched Chanyeol’s red eyes fill with frustrated tears, his lips quivering as he struggled to speak. “I trusted you, hyung.” He clenched his jaw, trying to stabilize his voice. “Baekhyun treated you like family, and you just turned away as he died.”

“I didn’t, Chanyeol, I’ve told you…” Yixing’s voice trailed off as he realized that the look in Chanyeol’s eyes indicated that he wasn’t going to accept anything he said. “... he was already dying the first time.” He looked away. “There’s no point being mad at me about it now.”

“I’m not mad, hyung,” Chanyeol seethed through gritted teeth, clenching his fists at his side, his body nearly shaking as he tried to withhold his rage, but his eyes betrayed his emotions, and neither of them were sure whom he was trying to convince. Honestly, he wasn't sure what he was feeling. Disappointed with you, upset, frustrated and hurt, maybe. “I’m not mad.”

Yixing still couldn’t meet his eyes.

Chanyeol looked away with a scoff. “How much did Kyungsoo pay you?” he asked. “You’ve always taken a liking to shiny things that you can’t have, no matter the cost.”

Yixing struggled to stand, noticing that the malice in Chanyeol’s voice referenced something far in the past. “I wouldn’t do something so rash over an old grudge.”

Chanyeol turned back to him with a condescending smile. “Then what was it for? How could you try to kill us?”

Yixing closed his eyes with a short sigh. “Kyungsoo had offered me a deal, which I turned down the first time when he told me what he was planning to do. But with the condition you were in, none of you were ready for the next attack they were planning. The city would have been gone the next day if I hadn’t done this. I had to, Park. I turned him down the first time; I thought it would be better the second time.”

Chanyeol’s demeanor dropped. “So this wasn't for me after all.”

Yixing spoke softly with a sad smile. “I’m not that benevolent, Chanyeol.”

Chanyeol shook his head with a laugh. “It’s my fault again, isn’t it?” he asked, his laughter getting louder. “I should have known; you’ve always been selfish. Never cared who you had to step on as long as you would rise.” He laughed again, misery tainting smile, quivering at the corners. “I should have known.”

Yixing took a slow step forward. “It was for you too. Kill two birds with one stone.” He cringed at the idiom. “T-That’s not what I meant. It… It was for you to see Baekhyun, and also for me to take the deal.”

Chanyeol glared down to him. “So you planned to give me a few happy last moments, let me die with my husband in my arms or kill me yourself, and then let him destroy the town.”

“If your team was gone, he wouldn’t destroy the town.”

“And you believed him?”

Yixing paused and his eyes shifted away. “I’m not that gullible.”

“Then you had another source of motivation?” When Yixing didn’t answer, Chanyeol’s voice softened. “You would kill us for more power?”

“It was all of our death or more power, there was no other option. Neither of you would have survived anyway.”

“You don’t believe that,” Chanyeol interrupted. “Don’t you have any faith in us? It’s only true because you set it up this way.”

Yixing stared at Chanyeol for a few seconds and finally lowered his head. “Perhaps I was too rash. It was a mistake I shouldn’t have made.”

“A mistake,” Chanyeol scoffed. “I know how you are, Yixing, and this was no mistake.”

Yixing’s silence was unnerving, like ice cubes slowly sliding down Chanyeol’s back, until Yixing broke it with a soft chuckle. “You’re right, aren’t you?” He slowly looked back up with a wicked gleam in his eyes, the same sinister twitch of his lips twisting into a nefarious smirk, his dimple deep with dishonesty. “It wasn’t a mistake at all. You were so desperate… it was so simple… I couldn’t resist.” He took a bold step forward, delighted as Chanyeol stumbled back. “You shattered so easily the first time you lost Baekhyun, and I knew the second would be no different. Seeing you in such distress is so rare and beautiful, whether I did what I did for Kyungsoo or if I did it for you, I wanted to see you break.” He stepped forward with a distorted chuckle and reached out to hold Chanyeol’s chin in his hand. “I wanted to watch you destroy yourself again - crumble in on yourself in despair until there was nothing left-” Chanyeol slapped his hand away, and Yixing drew in a deep breath.

“You’re disgusting,” Chanyeol growled back at him, curling his fingers to keep himself from getting into another fight, watching Yixing’s eyes gleam with his perverse fascination with the types of pain that his own fingers couldn’t heal.

“However,” Yixing muttered, the twinkle fading from his eye as he closed them, “don’t think that means this would have ended any better if I hadn’t done this. I thought about my options for a long time too.” He looked back up to Chanyeol. “If you’ll ever believe me once more, believe me now: I am not lying to you.”

Chanyeol’s voice was low, strained through gritted teeth. “Should I thank you?”

“You shouldn’t curse me,” Yixing responded simply.

“I’ll stop cursing you when Baekhyun comes back.”

A short pause. “I’m…”

Chanyeol didn’t wait for the word “Sorry” to follow, knowing it wouldn’t come. He let out a heavy, annoyed sigh. “It doesn't matter anymore. What’s done is done.”

Yixing pulled a small lily out from his pocket and held it out to him with a frown. Chanyeol didn't accept it. Yixing took a bold step closer, never taking his eyes off Chanyeol’s, as hard as diamond, to press his thumb to the corner of Chanyeol’s lip to heal a recent wound. “It’s a better alternative to what they were planning. I have my reasons, Yeol; you would have lost him either way.”

“But I didn’t have to,” Chanyeol responded, pushing Yixing back from him. “You could have warned us; we could have taken them down together; we could have tried at least-”

“Will you just believe me and let it be?”

“Should I believe anything you tell me anymore?”

Yixing’s expression softened as the lily began to wilt between his fingertips. “I’ve been your doctor for years, Yeol. Your friend for longer.”

“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer? Well played, old friend.”

Yixing quickly reached out to catch Chanyeol’s wrist. “We’re not… enemies.”

“You’re right,” Chanyeol said, shooting a glare at him as he tugged his arm away. “We’re nothing.”

And with that, he turned and began to walk away, leaving Yixing staring at the tail of his coat, until Chanyeol paused.

He glanced over his shoulder and asked, “Is Do Kyungsoo alive?”

Yixing stood there in silence and folded his lips into a thin line.

Chanyeol shook his head. “No - would you have still tried to kill me if he wasn’t?”

Yixing just stared back at him until he looked down to the floor, unable to meet Chanyeol’s stare.

Chanyeol turned back around with a sigh, his coat flapping in the wind as he adjusted his hat on his head and walked off into the distance.

Yixing merely watched as he let the dead lily unconsciously slip from his fingers and fall to the ground.

---------------

Baekhyunnie...

...Can you hear me?

Chanyeol stretched in the dull yellow light of the dim streetlamps, giving a shiver as the heat of late summer began fading into an autumn chill. He locked his house door behind him, stuffed his hands into his pockets, and began his walk.

Happy anniversary, my love.

He let out a soft yawn in the early morning air, his body still laden with fatigue, especially after spending so much time playing around with Sehun and the others the night before, but the air was crisp and sweet, although the scent of last night’s rain made his nose scrunch. Chanyeol paused at a red streetlight and glanced up to the sky, watching the grey clouds slowly bunch together to cover the setting moon.

It’s almost been a year since you left, and I still can’t get used to the fact that you’re gone.

The walk was a silent and lonely one; very few people stopped to greet him during their morning commute, but Chanyeol didn't mind the silence. He’d tip his hat to a few strangers on the way to wherever his feet led him, and then fade back into the depths of his mind.

Your stuff is still here, just the way it was left. All of your high scores on our video games are still at the top, and no one sits in your spot on the couch. I don’t even play your piano; it doesn’t sound as pretty when it's not your fingers pressing the keys. I still keep all my old hoodies in your part of the closet because it just feels like they belong there, and I always remember to keep the lilies on the table watered.

He didn't mind being alone. He would compensate by imagining Baekhyun glowing by his side, twirling as he gave off a brilliant light, skipping ahead of him, laughing, playing, just like the old Baekhyun used to, and Chanyeol would smile as he watched him, until Baekhyun approached the black cast iron gate that led to their destination and waved him over toward it to “hurry up and enter.”

Jongdae’s on parole. I had told them I preferred that he stay locked up forever, but no one wants to listen to me. Apparently he was supposed to join our “team,” if it still even is a team, so we could teach him things like how to be decent. No one really trusts him out by himself, although his resolve to destroy everything in sight has weakened without Kyungsoo by his side telling him what to do. I still want to kill him. No one will let me.

The walk wasn't a pain, aside from the squish of mud from the recent rain under his feet, as he trudged along the trails, following the light Baekhyun left behind up the large, grassy hill, with a single large tree sitting at the top, the leaves already beginning to put on their autumn attire. Chanyeol held his hand to his eyes and stared up to the clouds, still moving across the sky as slow as ever as the sun began to rise, trying its hardest to shed the golden light of dawn between the few remaining cracks in the clouds.

Kyungsoo is gone, though no one will tell me where. Maybe he’s dead. Maybe he’s plotting something big again. We’re not sure anymore which one seems more likely. No one wants to think about it.

As Chanyeol reached the top of the hill, he let out a heavy sigh at the sight. Fireflies danced around the base of the tree as Baekhyun laughed, childishly dancing along in circles with them. Chanyeol slowly approached the small slab of concrete at the base of the tree, each step in the mud becoming more difficult. Baekhyun glanced in his direction and gave him a small smile before he slowly faded back into the soft morning light as the fireflies scattered, and soon, he was alone again, holding a small bouquet of pure white lilies in his hand, as he stood solemnly in front of the headstone.

“Good morning, Baekhyun.”

I seem to have become an attraction for the neighborhood kids. You know, kind of like the way you used to show them tricks with your light in the night? ...Until their mothers came out shouting at us. Yet they always came back, attracted to the things they didn’t understand, amazed by such simple things like a flame that used to burn solely because you wanted it to, or a light that used to guide us through the dark.

He set the flowers down next to the ones from his last visit, before sitting next to them under the shade of the large tree. With a large sigh, he placed his head back against the trunk and closed his eyes, letting the autumn morning air wash over him.

We found a new friend a few weeks ago; his name is Junmyeon. He tried to stop it from raining when he forgot his umbrella, but once he realized I was watching him, he tried to run away. Even though he can control water, he’s really not the best at it. Kind of reminds you a little of me way back when we met, doesn’t it? Scared and lost. He’s happy with us now, though he’s more like the leader our little team never had. Like a mom, or something. He’s taken a liking to Jongdae, more than I’d prefer, but he seems to know how to keep him calm when they’re out in the rain together. I hope we’ll find more people like us soon.

Chanyeol turned to the flowers by his side, white lilies bright against the dull, green grass. He reached out, taking a flower petal between his fingers, and leaned down to smell it, sweet and reminiscent as it mixed with the familiar scent of soon-to-be-coming rain. He lay back with a sigh, closing his eyes as he toyed with the petals, thinking about the way he and Baekhyun used to stay awake at night to watch the moon and the stars twinkle in the night sky, hoping that perhaps his husband was finally where he felt the most comfortable - amongst all the stars.

It’s kind of funny. Even though we’re not superheroes anymore, I still feel like we’re saving people. This is truly what you wanted anyway, wasn’t it? To help people in need; to get those like us to stop hiding. To stand up for ourselves. To realize we’re not bad or wrong for being the odd ones out. Even though we’re always ready to help out the town when anyone’s in trouble, it doesn’t seem like our main concern anymore. Besides... it would be difficult to do what we used to without you or Yixing.

No one has told me where he went either. I think everyone is afraid I’ll disappear next.

A single droplet from the sky diverted his attention from the flowers. He slowly stood up and walked out from under the branches of the tree and stared up to the sky, his hair covering his eyes as he peered up to the clouds that had finally blocked out all the light from dawn. Another droplet of rain on his nose made him cringe.

Does this make you happy, Baekhyun? Are you happy?

There was a another drop of water, and then another. Chanyeol just stood there, staring as it picked up and began to rain harder, until it was a downpour, and he was drenched by the overwhelming rain.

I miss you.

Chanyeol hated the rain.

He hated the way it smelled. He hated the way it tasted. He hated the way it sounded.

I love you.

He hated the way it could go from a light mist one second to sheets and buckets of rain the next. He hated the way it brought the grey gloom and misery along with it. He hated the way it could extinguish his obstinate flame so easily.

It’s hard. Being here without you is hard.

But most of all, he hated how the clouds gathered in bunches of grey, blocking out the light from the sun, as though it was mocking him. Mocking him because his light was gone.

But I’m trying. Because you used to hate it when I gave up.

Most of all, he hated how it kept him from seeing heaven.

Everywhere I look, I see your absence, even in the darkness behind my closed eyelids. In my dreams. In my nightmares. But sometimes, I’ll close my eyes and count to ten, knowing that when I open them, it’ll be brighter, there will be a path lit, and somehow, I’ll find my way out.

He hated how it kept him from seeing the stars.

You used to be the light that lit up these paths for me - the thing I looked for whenever I was lost - and now I have to find my own. I’ll find my way back to you somehow. But until then, no matter how hard I try, the worst part is...

He hated how it kept him from seeing Baekhyun.

...that my world will always be just a little bit darker without you.

********

A/n: If I’m honest, I’m afraid that I rushed a few parts, but I really enjoyed writing this [ and I got to watch a lot of sword fighting ;) and then decided it was too difficult to write, but it was fun to watch ], so I hope you enjoyed reading it as well :) I know it’s kinda far away from what I usually post, but I missed writing some things like this and knew I was never going to finish this if I didn’t post it lol ANYWAYS this will probably be my last character death thing for a while so whoop i hope it was a fun journey :) Yeeeeyyyy :D